Orlando in Love, Episode 21: Rinaldo v. the Champions of Truf-al-dino Tonight, I speak of bold Rinaldo, champion of Charlemagne: He wields the famous sword Fusberta; his horse is Baiardo, best of steeds. That is, Baiardo /was/ his horse. When magic lured this knight from France, his noble steed was left behind. He found another in his travels, a /magic/ beast, of marvel great, a coal-black horse named Rabicano. Rinaldo has wandered into the east, and come to the city of Albraka. This city now is under siege by Marfisa, saracen warrior queen. Rinaldo dueled with Marfisa. Her valor clearly equaled his. But when they were attacked by others, the two joined forces to drive them off, and soon they had become fast friends. Rinaldo now learns from Marfisa that, hiding there within the fortress is Truf-al-dino, Baghdad's King. Rinaldo's pleased to hear he's near, for he has sworn a sacred oath to kill this treacherous murderer. Truf-al-dino *has* defenses. Several valiant cavaliers have sworn to serve as his protectors. King Truf-al-dino 'd tricked those knights and made them swear under duress, but /honor/ now *makes* them obey. At dawn, Rinaldo blows his horn and echoes these words in its sound: "You champions in the citadel together with that evil man, listen to what affects you all, (R) both cavaliers and kings with crowns: "If you let treachery run free, /unpunished/, (R) you're *accomplices*. Those capable of stopping crimes, who do not /do so/, _share_ the fault. And every /natural/ gentleman's obliged by chivalry to be the enemy of traitors, and_to take revenge on villainy. "But *you* despise this, (R) since _you_ lack the strong compassion you should have. Instead, you house a murderer, a false dog who is cursed by God, Truf-al-dino, Baghdad's King, who's a traitor, thug, and criminal. "Now understand me, great and small: (R) I challenge you to take the field where I will wait with sword in hand to prove you're all perfidious slaves." With such words, and with more Rinaldo menaces all those cavaliers. They look in one another's eyes, because Rinaldo's speech is clear. There is not one who does not know that he supports an unjust cause, since all consider Truf-al-dino traitorous, evil, and depraved. But.promises and sworn vows forced them, armed for battle, through the doors, And, though men of audacity who all, for /honor/, don't mind dying, they entered *this* war terrified. There's not a single knight so strong that when he sees Rinaldo, he_does not go numb down to his feet. Six barons left the fortress to_descend the stone slopes to the plain: Aquilant and Grifon, his brother, [count on fingers] both with enchanted steeds, charmed armor, King Adrian and bold Chyaron, Oberto dal Leon, and ~ cringing in their midst, false Truf-al-dino. [make fist] Grifone recognized Rinaldo. "Brother," he said to Aquilant. (L) "If I see right, it seems to me that this is Rinaldo Montalbano. It would be good to talk with him, and find out if we might make /peace/. To tell the truth, it bothers me to fight a battle where _we're_ wrong." "I think," said Aquilant, "It's he -- (C) but I can't really say for certain, since he's not riding on Baiardo. Let's go to him, and when we're close, we'll know if it is him or not. You talk with him as you see fit -- accord or battle, peace or war." They're riding tow'rds him as they talk. Now each side recognized the other, and so they rode aside and spoke about what they should do. Each told why he 'd come, and how, and when, But all three knights were disappointed that they could find no reason why this ~ death-dealing war should cease. Their noble clans are closely tied, but now for others and because of strange events, they meet to die. Grifone told Rinaldo -- he_spoke boldly, but politely -- "Please! (L) Luck and fortune do you wrong to make you perish for this man. Five cavaliers, each one well known, all very highly praised have sworn an oath to keep King Truf-al-dino safe from all the world. "Dear cousin, I won't hide my thoughts: (L) I see you on the meadow, slain. Since after one, the second comes, and then the third, and then, at once, the fourth -- You can't outlast us all." Rinaldo answered, "On my honor, fighting you weighs me heavily, (R) and I'm not saying that from /fear/, since *all of you* will fall to earth. So /monstrous/ is your arrogance -- you undertake to fight the *world* -- that you've no cause to be amazed if I fight _merely_ with /five/ men. "But we spend too long in debate; (R) I'd rather not be armed /all day/. I defy *anyone* to fight for Truf-al-dino. Take the field! Surely the sun won't pass that hill before I stretch you one by one, and I will clearly demonstrate it's *you* who move against what's right." When he had spoken thus, the knight_no longer bides, turns Rabican, and takes his distance, head held high, then stops to wait, with lance in hand. Now all the others see the need_to blood their swords upon that plain, because Rinaldo would not yield. They organize their battle plan. For all to charge would shame them, so_they chose Oberto dal Leon to be the first to fight, alone. And if he should receive the worst, King Adrian would rescue him, And if need be, Grifon would speed, to whom his brother would respond, whose help, in turn, would be Chyaron. Oberto was extremely strong, one of the world's most worthy barons. He spurs his horse, he grips his lance. No joust was *ever* run so fast, for no two knights *so* arrogant have sought to knock each other down. They *hit*, with /little/ edge obtained, @ but what there was, Rinaldo gained. And they returned, with blades that bite, like /dragons/, to that fearful fight, their minds resolved that one must die: Ceaselessly, desperately, they strike. *Both* saw their armor cut and hacked, their hauberks sliced and their shields cracked, although Rinaldo's fighting skills_and force allowed /him/ an advantage. While giving varied, vicious dints Rinaldo waited, seized his chance, and when Oberto dropped his guard, he hit his helmet with Fusberta. He broke the cheek and visor plates and smote him cruelly on the face. That blow was fierce past measure, and_Oberto toppled as if slain. Seeing this, bold King Adrian, who waited fully armed to aid him, speedily rode across the plain_with his enormous, heavy lance. Rinaldo was without a spear because he broke his earlier, but met him with a naked sword. Adrian struck his shield dead center. His lance flies high and snaps in pieces. @ Rinaldo holds fast, like a rock. Now I can tell you, neither's steed goes at a slow trot or a gallop. Rather, they /race/ like _thunderbolts_ and *crash* together, chest to chest: @ King Adrian's good charger falls. Grifone draws his sword -- he's next. That famous baron wants no lance; He's /almost/ too _ashamed_ to fight, thinking Rinaldo must be tired, but as I said, he gripped his sword. He had charmed arms, a magic horse, and nothing made him hesitate -- Except -- that he could never end_this duel unless he /killed/ Rinaldo. (L) So he implored ~ and pleasantly_asked him to /cease/ this battle, /please/. Rinaldo said, "Don't preach to me! (R) Come and defend yourself or flee!" After Grifone heard these words, his face was lit with sparkling flames, and he said "I don't run away! (L) You will be slain for your disdain!" These words were hardly spoken when Rinaldo *struck* @ with so much ruin Grifone could not see the sun, or tell if it was night or day. Rinaldo said, "You need much more than splendid arms and a white horse (R) to be a valiant warrior -- You need *strength*, and a /daring heart/." Grifon, hearing Rinaldo's scorn -- feeling great anger fill his heart -- _hit_ his bright helmet with _both_ hands. @ Although he could not harm that helm, since it was magic, as you've heard, the blow was so *insanely* hard it gave Rinaldo vertigo. Grifone _did not_ pause, but swung again, much harder than before. Rinaldo'd never felt such pain, and his whole crest was torn away. "I'll show if I have strength and heart, (L) if a white horse is all I've got, you highway robber, you low thief!" He swings a third blow, even greater, and this one is so venomous, so rapid, and so furious, Rinaldo can't defend himself. But, as the high Creator wished, it strikes him on his helmet, for, had the blow landed somewhere else, the duel would not have lasted long. Grifone would have hacked his /armor/ *off* -- but the _helm_ withstood that stroke. Grifone fumed past measure: never had he been so hot or angered. Worse than *his* rage -- guess how much worse -- was the way that bold Rinaldo felt. Not Aetna nor Mount Vulcan burn as much as does Rinaldo now. His eyes were like two sparkling flames. He seized Fusberta with both fists and struck Grifone -- he was reckless. Not *seven* suits of armor could, without enchantment, have resisted, but ~ Grifon survived, so well_cast was the faerie's magic spell. He /is/ unconscious from the blow, hanging around his charger's neck, and while his spirits are still weak, Rinaldo hits him -- ruinously. But young Grifon, who has great strength, wakes ~ and takes swings that pass belief. They've started such a vicious duel no other *ever* was so cruel, But neither of them asks for rest or minds the trouble and distress. Each baron's face was so inflamed, those who just *gazed* were terrified: One watching from a distance might believe their helmets issued fire. The conflict constantly grew hotter until almost five hours had passed. Rinaldo said, "Almighty Christ, (R) If I have ever sinned before, don't ask I make amends in *this*: I fight for what is right and _just_. You /know/, Lord, if my cause is true. No one could ever lie to you. "Grifon defends a Saracen_against /me/, and *I* a Christian. (R) He battles for a pagan who's inhuman, faithless, evil, cruel. Show justice *is* defended by Heaven's King. Make him understand!" So that knight spoke. Meanwhile, Grifon, all the while fighting with great ruin, looked up to heaven with devotion: "O Virgin, Heaven's Queen," he prayed, (L) "Have sympathy for my mistakes and don't reject this /worthless/ soul. "Although I may have sinned before, (L) I'm on the right side in this war. I only sought peace with Rinaldo, and he misused me, like a villain! "What I do now I do not like -- (L) I fight with him against my will -- but his sharp words and lofty pride have brought me to this evil battle, where I await the aid you owe me, you who give help to those in need." Their blades were never seen to stop as fierce blows were by /fiercer/ topped. To tell the truth, they have no fear, since both are bold, deft cavaliers, and each, with sword, with lance, on horse, on foot could match the other's force. The hold their lives as valueless, and neither ever seeks a rest, spares any blow, or hides himself. Each one responds. Each does his best. Everyone gathered gradually around them -- knights and infantry -- and in their great desire to see barely squeezed.in the narrow field. Marfisa watched in front of all, her face completely red, like flame. And while she stared, *behold*, Rinaldo gave a great and furious blow. It landed on Grifone's helm. If it had hit a *tower* then it would have knocked it to the earth, but the helmet's spell, a faerie's charm, preserved the gallant youth from death, although his consciousness _had_ fled so he was neither live /nor/ dead. He lost his stirrups and his reins and dangled from his horse's side, dragging his sword along the plain, @ for a chain bound it to his wrist. When Aquilante witnessed this, he thought his brother had been slain, and, ~ maddened, he aimed at Rinaldo, breathing hard from despair and rage. He too was the son of Oliver, born from the same womb as Grifon, no weaker or less fierce than he. And, like him, he 'd been enchanted -- his arms, his sword, and horse, I mean. The two bore opposite devices -- his is black and Grifon's is white -- but both are wondrous, valiant knights. So this fight was not one whit less severe; it was *more* inhumane, since Aquilant felt great distress, believing that Grifon was slain. Madly, like a desperate man, he fought Rinaldo Montalbano, swinging with both hands, hurrying to instant death, or instant vengeance. Rinaldo, for _his_ part, believed that he was being wronged by them, and so he hit more terribly_than ever, stung by greater fury. He saw *all* were opposed to him. He was alone, with no help_but Fusberta and his _daring heart_, so he fought in an angry rage. "Go on," he shouts, "you ugly curs! (R) and scout around for others who~will _finish_ this assault for you. Or, if you'd rather, charge together. You're worth less than a piece of straw! How can you lift your eyes to heaven when you've been so disgraced and scorned? How can you let yourselves be seen?" Aquilant offered no response, though he heard that defiant speech, but in his pride he clenched his teeth, And then, with all his force and strength he hit Rinaldo's shining helmet with such a mad and bitter blow, Rinaldo was knocked back on his horse. And if his sword had not been chained to his right arm, as usual, it would have fallen to the plain. Now Rabican ran rapidly: Rinaldo had let fall the reins, and he'd lost any sense of place as, in a spasm of great pain, his heart stopped and his senses failed. Aquilant swelled with pride and rage and followed him across the plain with so much venom in his heart he would as soon have murdered him as he'd have killed a *Saracen*. Rinaldo, though, regained his wits, and he was active and alert_when Aquilant rode up to him. Again he gripped the sword he'd dropped, @ turning his horse tow'rds Aquilant, @ provoked by an enormous fury. With even more force than before he hit the center of his helmet. Aquilant's courage was no help, nor his enchanted armor as, knocked senseless, he lost consciousness. Rinaldo did not hesitate this time, for he was full of rage. He quickly cut the leather laces which held on Aquilante's helm, meaning to cut his head away. But now, as had been pre-arranged, (L) /Chiaron/ set his lance in place, and, ~ unnoticed by Rinaldo, charged.in, from.the.side, and struck his hip. @ Plates and thick.mail were no protection as that spear cruelly slashed his flank. But now Chiarone, his spear broken, had not the strength to halt his steed. Just when Rinaldo felt that stroke, precisely then, Grifon awoke. He long had been in agony, out of his senses, stupefied, but, as I said, Grifon recovered just as Chiaron rode away. He did not know Chiarone fought, that Aquilant had battled, too, or surely he'd have never moved. But when he's shaken off his daze, he sought revenge, since he'd been hit. Angry, he turned Rinaldo's way. Rinaldo Montalbano was not_firmly settled in his saddle (that cruel and villainous attack had almost knocked him from his seat) when, sword in hand, Grifone came. He found him battered, unprepared, and struck him horribly and hard. Rinaldo, swollen with great rage, turned fast.as.a.snake to face Grifon. He would have stretched him on the ground, so madly did he swing his blade, except Chiaron, who'd wheeled around, came and disrupted their new game. He arrived unexpectedly, and hit Rinaldo's right arm, hard, jolting it so ferociously, he almost made him drop his sword. Imagine now Rinaldo's anger, I'd waste my time describing it, my words aren't equal to the task. He swears to God and loudly yells -- And then he turns 'gainst Chiaron, having decided he must die. But now Grifone does not wait_or let him rest and catch his breath, and look here! Aquilante joins the duel -- recovered from his swoon, though not completely since, it's true, he does not see the other two. He spurs his war-horse with great ruin and hits Rinaldo with a blow so pitiless, ferocious, cruel, it cut his shield completely through. Though the shield was plate and buffalo hide, and his sleeve was made of chain-mail, @ still Rinaldo's arm was deeply cut. To those who watched, this seemed to hurt. Daring Marfisa rushed to his side: Until then she had barely kept_herself from lending him her help. But now that the fight's no longer fair, there's no more reason to stay back. And so he fought beside that queen who has no peer for strength on earth. What wind, what tempest of the sea could ever equal her great fury? It seemed that mountains tumbled when Marfisa was in motion, rivers sank to hell, and the air, and all the heavens too, were burning with great violence. Although her terrible, strong furor could have bedeviled anyone, Grifone does not lose his nerve, nor does his brother Aquilant; The pair of brothers charged Marfisa, gripping their shields, defending well. Valiant Rinaldo, left alone, fights Adrian and Chiaron, and also Oberto dal Leon. King Truf-al-dino stayed apart as if in this _he_ played /no part/. So great are the blows, the noise, the splitting sounds of plate and mail, *thunder* would hardly have been heard. I'll tell one battle, then the next, since two are going on at once, Now to begin with the first duel: Grifon and Aquilante face Marfisa, who's between the two. She seemed to be a lioness that sees herself between two deer, has heart for both, but can't decide, and grinds her teeth, and glares at each; @ Just so, Marfisa had to choose, ready to spring at either knight; The mighty queen was wondering which one should be the first to die. Grifone helped with her decision. That fierce young man with both his hands let fly a swing beyond belief. The dragon on the lady's crest was cut in two and thrown to earth, but that swing did not move Marfisa, although she felt her head hit hard. Enraged, she struck Grifone soundly, but she had hardly turned tow'rds him when Aquilante hit her neck. Imagine all her rage and shame as that swing, merciless and sudden, battered her helm against her face. The blood flowed from her mouth and nose -- this never had occurred before! She straightened up, then cried, "Foul rogue! (R) If you knew what you don't yet know, you'd wish you'd stayed inside the stronghold. The fact is, you're about to die, and at *my* hand, and heaven's God can't help you to avoid _my_ ire!" While she was boasting what she'd do, Grifone did not waste his time but gathered all his strength and power and hit her, back-hand, on the brow; @ a blow more great than I can tell. Ignoring this assault, Marfisa threw herself at Aquilant. The angry woman hit so hard, in such a rage, with so much wrath, that if his arms had not been magic, she would have severed him in half. Said bold Grifon, "You rabid *bitch*, (C) You will not boast throughout the world you've killed my brother, as you've sworn: Your talk will be lies, empty words!" And saying that, he swung his sword, thundering at her shining helmet. She _turns_ on _him_ with so much force that she believed he'd be destroyed; The strong queen hit his shield so hard, she knocked it to the ground in bits, and had /his/ armor not been well_enchanted by the faerie's spell, she would have sliced him *and* his /horse/. The bold youth answered back in kind and hit /her/ helmet with both hands. Then Aquilante also moved -- Neither knight lets alone the maid, one or the other always swings, while she, for her part, is so daring that their advantage hardly matters. Their frequent blows ring through the air -- and twenty blacksmiths' hammers pound less loudly than that crashing sound. Beside them, on that very plain, there was another awful fight, The Paladin Rinaldo fights King Adrian and Chiaron, also Oberto dal Leon. Rinaldo had been badly wounded, both on his left arm and his hip, @ but he's so fierce, so skilled in battle, he fights three knights and still prevails. As I said, evil Truf-al-dino stood by himself and watched the war. When he saw that the three knights now /fell back/ before Rinaldo's blade, as one who had a lot to fear, he _fled_ and reached the fortress walls. Rinaldo did not see him run, or surely he'd not have escaped: for Rabican is very swift. But in the battle's heat, I say, Rinaldo'd not seen Truf-al-dino_fleeing 'till he'd reached the gates. He turned to those he fought and he said_furiously, "That traitor fled! (R) Listen to what I have to say, and do exactly as you're told if you don't want to die *at once*. I don't care _who_ you are; I'll *kill* you unless you _promise_ me you'll bring that *villain* to the field tomorrow. "I want this battle we've begun (R) to be concluded for today. All of you here who have defended_your /glorious/ King Truf-al-dino, when the sun shines tomorrow, at_firstlight, report back to the field. "We will conclude our battle, (R) and_that _foul assassin_ will be killed, or truly, I myself will die -- if God confuses wrong and right." These were the words Rinaldo cried -- and others that I won't repeat -- and to them every knight accedes, though, at first, Marfisa disagrees. Her heart was animated, hot, and she refused to quit the fray until Grifon and Aquilante promised her /they'd/ return next day, and they would battle from the dawn until the sun sank in the sea. With that, the barons, sore and weary, retreated to the stronghold. They possessed no armor, not one piece, intact, undented, or unbloodied. Those outside were no better off: neither Rinaldo nor Marfisa. Each one attended with great care to his own needs and to his armor. As all of them prepare for sleep, and for the great duel on the morrow, this seems the place to pause my tale. I'll tell you more another night... when /Orlando/ comes to join this fight.