The New Knight Took His Leave of His Host, most anxious now to return to his mother and to find her alive and well. He made his way into the lonely forest, for he was more at home there than in the open country, knowing the ways of the woods. He rode on until he caught sight of a castle: it was strong and impressive, but outside its walls there was nothing but sea and river and wasteland. He hurried on until he neared the gate; but before he could reach it he had to cross a bridge so weak that he feared it would hardly take his weight. He managed to get across without mishap, but when he reached the gate he found it locked fast. He wasn’t one to hammer gently, and his cries were none too soft. He pounded away until a thin, pale girl rushed to the windows of the hall and cried:

‘Who’s that calling?’

He looked up towards the girl and said: ‘Dear friend, I’m a knight who prays that you let me in and give me lodging tonight.’

‘Sir,’ she said, ‘you shall have lodging, though you’ll give me little thanks for it. But we’ll lodge you as well as we can.’

The girl drew back from the window then; and he, waiting at the gate, thought they were making him stand around too long and began to shout again. Then four retainers came, each clutching an axe and bearing a sword at his waist, and unlocked the gate and said to him: ‘Come this way.’

If the retainers had been in a happy state they would have been handsome men indeed; but they had suffered so much hardship from lack of food and sleep that they were a pitiful sight. And just as he had found the land outside all bare and deserted, so he found precious little within. Everywhere he went the streets were empty and the houses in ruins, with not a man or woman anywhere. There were two churches in the town which had both been abbeys: one of nuns, lost and fearful, the other of monks, confused, bewildered.