Gareth, the son of King Lot of Orkney and... (sources vary) mother, appears in various of the Arthur legends, earliest I've read is Thomas Malory, tho Gareth appears in a 12th century French story for the first official time. The theme of "fight an increasing boss set" is enduring, and is still the core of a lot of video games, and I've taken elements of various Gareth legends here and set them to a simplified form of Welsh poetic meter, the "Cywydd Llosgyrnog" which is a 6 line stanza, with an unlimited number of stanzas, the format of each is that lines 1, 2, 4 and 5 have 8 syllables, lines 3 and 6 have 7 syllables, and there is a rhyme structure of 1+2, 3+6, and 4+5. In traditional Cywydd Llosgyrnog, there is an internal rhyme in line 3 to lines 1 and 2, and in line 6 to lines 4 and 5. I have chosen to omit the internal rhyme in a poem of this length for my own sanity.
Gavin Kent, AS LI
Of Bellicent and Lot, their son;
was Gareth called who thus begun;
won his manhood in their court.
Dreamed he of valour fair and bold;
in Arthur's hall where it was told;
Knights of table round did sport.
Tho begged he leave to venture there;
a mother's loss was she to spare;
Bellicent demands an oath.
She wagered his pride was too vast;
at common toil he would not last;
never would he pledge his troth.
But Gareth nodded his assent;
of his desire he'd not repent;
his mother's terms he’d allow.
That in disguise should Gareth go;
that he be noble none should know;
thus Gareth pledged her his vow.
On foot in simple clothes went he;
to Camelot and there to be;
cook at the kitchen’s fire.
At feast of Pentecost he came;
forbearing all to ask his name;
sought two boons of his sire.
The first of them to grant that day;
that he a Scullion knave should stay;
Until the turn of the year.
And then of Arthur he would seek;
a second boon that he would speak;
if that day the king would hear.
So toiled Gareth long and true;
and weeks to months and seasons flew;
until Pentecost returned.
When that morn dawned there came a maid;
before the throne for help she bade;
for a champion she yearned.
To free her lands, a knight she sought;
would Arthur send her Lancelot;
to vanquish the Knight of Red?
Then forward Gareth strode to speak;
though of the kitchens he did reek;
to Arthur he bowed his head.
“Sire my year of service gone;
my second boon is send me yon;
a champion for this Dame.
I would her quest to undertake;
never flinch never to forsake;
and thusly to earn my fame.”
With troubled nod Arthur's assent;
that Gareth would indeed be sent;
to aid the lady Lynette.
Her cries of protest Arthur stopped;
until Gareth should be oer’topped;
his royal word it was set.
Tears of rage bedecked Snow White cheeks;
that this, a man who stank of leeks;
should mock her so in her plight.
Her Raven hair she plated tight;
and tarried only that one night;
‘ere coursing her shame in flight.
At castles moat awaited her;
a well-wrought knight who did not stir;
his horse and trappings well-wrought.
But when her own mount drew him nigh;
his visor raised and her green eye;
spied the scullion’s face unsought.
“Begone ye fool who smells of smoke;
serve thy betters, those honest folk;
would that one of them would try.”
But Gareth sat his horse with pride;
and said he would not turn aside;
“where ridest thou, so ride I.”
So set forth Lynette on the road;
never Gareth a glance bestowed;
he followed where ‘ere she went.
Until at dusk they came upon;
astride a wide and stately lawn;
a most fine and noble tent.
“In this pavilion does reside;
a knight most fierce, pray turn aside;
your death it would please me not.”
“Fair Lady, I have pledged my word;
Unto your cause my arm and sword;
Though with peril, it be fraught.”
Forth rode Gareth to havoc cry;
a knight purpure he stood hard by;
their lances swiftly broken.
On foot with blade the two men fought;
by neither one was quarter sought;
till at last yield was spoken.
The purple knight on bended knee;
Cried “I will do as asked of me!
Victory you have wrested.”
“To Arthur's court on your parole;
and spare not telling every soul;
by Gareth you were bested.
The night away to court did ride;
Lynette fair stood by Gareth's side;
and thusly did she bespeak.
“Methought that when your sword was free;
less kitchen stink did come from thee;
but hark, now returns the reek.”
“Away with you, thou cleaver knight;
for though you've managed here to fight;
at this next test, you shall die.”
But Gareth sat his horse with pride;
and said he would not turn aside;
“where ridest thou, so ride I.”
By morning's light the two beheld;
Amidst A clearing, newly felled;
a knight whose mail was Azure.
Right tall and broad the foeman stood;
his laughter shook the very wood;
“Come lad, and test your measure!”
With lance and sword they met afield;
to crashing blow would neither yield;
their shields did bellow with steel.
Until, at last, the Azure knight;
did kneel and crave to end the fight;
bright Gareth heard his appeal.
“Get gone to Camelot villain;
raise thee thy weapon not again;
to any, save to protect.
And speak the tale for all to hear;
before Gareth you knelt in fear;
clear then you have my respect.”
Away he rode, and fair Lynette;
bespoke Gareth “me thinkest yet;
the onset of odor fades.
But pray, brave man now leave the quest;
this final night is worst, and best;
of not but evil is he made.”
And Gareth would have said to she;
that where she rodest, so would he;
when hoofbeats sounded hard by.
A knight approached with covered shield;
and called upon Gareth to yield;
but Gareth he answered “Fie!”
With Lance and shield did they contest;
never a moment to breathe or rest;
till the knight, Gareth knocked free.
Then sword to sword they battled hard;
to and fro there across the yard;
untill Gareth bent his knee.
“I give my all, and am outdone;
In yielding now to such a one;
As you, I can find no shame.
Before you speak my doom, I would;
Know this of you, if you be good;
Pray, tell unto me your name.
Then doffed the knight his helm, and lo;
Brave Lancelot did stand there so;
And smiled upon fair Lynette.
“By three men living, from my steed;
Have seen me taken: rare indeed!
None with sword have beat me yet.”
“From Camelot this day I'm sent;
To seek the child of Bellisent;
And Orkney’s sovereign Lot.
And here I find him, hale and sound;
With his victories newly crowned;
All is not as we had thought.”
“A finer man you could not ask;
To lend his honour to your task;
But one action now is right.
He took his sword and touched he then;
The shoulders of Gareth, and when;
Was done, he arose a knight.
Lynette did look upon her peer;
She thought upon his plight in fear;
for Gareth would he stay by.
Her side to seek the knight of red;
but Gareth kissed her hand and said;
“where ridest thou, so ride I.”
When next there came the break of day;
The bones of those this fiend did slay;
Lay strewn about the rough plain.
Called Gareth “villain, come ye out!”
The rooks he riled with his shout;
The sky did turn dray with rain.
Then from a cave the red knight strode;
No mount would bear his ghastly load;
Nearly seven feet his height.
His sword was long, his reach was vast;
Despite his bulk was lithe and fast;
Gareth quailed before his might.
They met with sparks on sodden ground;
Like crashing rocks, the mighty sound;
Of sword and of shield and mail.
They sought each other in the mud;
Of rain and earth of flesh and blood;
The mists wrapped them like a veil.
Three fourths the hour saw their clash;
and then within the mists, a flash;
Of steel, Lynette held her breath.
From out the rain came Gareth, whole;
Lynette's cry rang out like a toll;
Of joy, she had feared his death.
His sword was rent, his shield in twain;
The red knight would not rise again;
Lynette's lands were free once more.
“How comes the smell of leeks, lady?
Is there aught else you'd ask of me?”
A smile, grim, Gareth wore.
“My Lord, methinks thou smell as sweet;
As springtime morning, and is meet;
That I should offer you praise.
My father's lands you have returned;
When I, your aid did scorn, and spurned;
Your valor, and knightly ways.
“My lady, fain I would you see;
In shame your head have bowed to me;
Nor hide your face from the sky.
I would you'd have me for your Lord;
My heart is thine, as is my sword;
Where ridest thou, so ride I.
