Orlando in Love, episode 48: King Agrramant's Arrival You barons, damsels, listening~to famous, to prodigous deeds that made those cavaliers renowned in times past and the present age, I've come to let you hear today the largest and the fiercest fight, the most profound and perilous, that verse or prose has ever told. The powerful King Agrramant, the emperor of Africa, with two-and-thirty vassal kings came 'cross the sea with all their troops, to bring great harm to Charlemagne. His father had died fighting him, and Agrramant wants vengeance now. His old advisor, King Sobrino, told him the folly of that course, but when he sees that Agrramant~cannot be swayed from his bold plan, Sobrino, loyal, comes with him. -- Before the.African armies sailed, France was attacked by another foe. Bold King Marsile of Spain had led~an army 'gainst south Gascony. He reached the plain of Montalban, and set siege to the castle there. Rinaldo, bold lord of that place, was not at home when they arrived, but soon appeared, with Charlemagne~and all his men, to battle there. Rinaldo is a newcomer to Charles'~court, and he is strong. His power is quite close~to that of Count Orlando, noted knight. These paladins became fast friends, until the day that _each one_ fell~in love with the _same_ lady fair. This rivalry makes them compete, and try to show the other weak. The knights no longer serve King Charles, but their own reckless, love-torn hearts. -- Despite distractions of his knights, Charles and his men fought well that day. Although the sides were closely matched, it seemed our men would win the fray. But then, King Agrramant and all~his Africans came to that field. Orlando raised his eyes and saw a huge horde coming down the mountain, descending with their flags unfurled, and he saw no end to that swarm. Orlando cried, "Eternal God, [knight, deep and resonant] where is this ill wind blowing from? Even so many men, however, won't save damned Marsile and his men! I think they must have come from hell, but they'll find they're unwelcome here -- no matter who those devils are -- {disdain} if my sword does what it can do." Now he rode toward the mountain. Someone had.dropped a lance upon.the.plain, and Count Orlando picked it up. I don't know if you understand: I mean, while saddled, fully armed, he plucked that round spear off the field. -- But let's return to Agrramant who watched the conflict in the field, the kind of sight he liked to see. He had a young man brought to him, he who wore Constantina's crown, and this king's name was /Pinador/. He ordered him to go alone~and fearlessly among those men, where the fight was tightest and~the battle bloodiest, most fierce, to capture several barons bold and bring them back alive, unharmed -- best to bring four or six at once -- so he could learn about this war. King Pinador now galloped forth, descending quickly down the slope, and through the countryside he rode. He never gave his spurs a rest. But then he ran across Orlando: As if he'd come to joust with him,~he hurled a dare, and right away~they charged together, lances low. There wasn't anyone around, though they were very near the war. Each of them spurred with all his force, riding precipitantly, hard, and both shields echoed when they hit. The king of Constantina fell: His lance turned into little splinters, and he flew cleanly from his saddle. Orlando grabbed him easily after he'd fallen from his steed, and the king put up no defense -- he could not fight this Paladin. -- Orlando learned from Pinador that Agrramant was on the mountain. He'd crossed the sea with many men to desolate King Charles and France. /Happy/ at that, the baron bold lifted his joyous face to heaven,~saying, "O God on high, you send~swift help and aid where there is need! Because (if I am not deceived) King Charles will lose, Rinaldo too, and when each peer has met defeat, *I* will then rescue _all_ of them! "I will regain -- by valiant deeds -- the love of one I love so much, and I swear by her beauty that~if the whole world is armed and massed~against me at one time, I will -- if that day comes -- destroy them *all*!" Orlando told King Pinador, "Hurry back quickly to your lord. If he has sent you here to learn~what's happening, make this report: Say that Spain's Marsile and King Charles battle together in this furor -- and if his heart and mind are royal, let him join in and _show_ his worth." -- King Pinador then gives him thanks, as any gentleman would do, then wheeled around and did not stop till he unhorsed by Agrramant. He told him, "Highest lord, [young man] I went~where you bade me, and I can say~down on that plain, the battle pits~King Marsile and bold Charlemagne. "I don't know what you think of that, but my advice is, Don't descend! for on that plain I found a knight whose prowess still amazes me. His shield was quartered white and red, and if that man shows what the rest~can do, we'll lose this war -- at best!" At this _Sobrino_ smiled (for he~was present when they spoke) and said, "Red and white means that was Orlando: [hollow, -old] Now our battalion's pride will fall! I've known him well since he was small, and (may Macon make him afraid!) in tests of swords and lances, he's~the fiercest man in all the world. "Now you will know if I was wrong~back in Africa, where you laughed~when I described the power of Charles and praised his army's excellence. "Call out all of our strongest men. Let's round up all those beardless boys~who claim to be so bold and fearless, who joust for /fun/ in tournaments, _playing_ with spears and their /fine clothes./ And -- in case anyone suspects~I say all this from cowardice -- I'll ride with them. I'll stake my soul~no one will take a step before._me._" -- The knights ride forward angrily; not one wants to be left behind. It is no use for Agrramant~to call them back: they just ride faster. It seems a thousand years until~they're down -- they go like unleashed hounds. When Agrramant sees everyone~descend, he hesitates no longer, and the king does not order ranks, just makes his rabble follow him. Sounding their trumpets, drums, and horns, that mob descends towards the plain. Few of those men are armed with swords, but some have maces, some bear clubs. Not in a hundred days could they~be counted, they are spread so far. -- The Spanish king, Marsile, by now~looked like he was about to die, for he could hardly keep his saddle, and now was slipping down one side. He was attacked by bold King Charles, who never ceased his two-hand swings, and, as I said, Charles did much damage, bringing him to the brink of death. But when Charles raised his eyes, he saw~Agrramant riding though the plain behind so many flags and standards they _filled_ the field, in every corner. Now as he saw those hordes descend, Charlemagne quickly crossed himself, @ almost stunned -- certainly amazed -- by the great company that came. He quickly left his failing foe to organize and help his men. -- Rinaldo fought not far away, and the king yelled so loudly that he understood Charles through the din. "My son," the king cried, "dearest son, [old, deep] today we must be gallant men. If we don't find deliverance, we'll see our final infamy. If ever any day were black~for Montalban and Gascony -- the *end* for Christianity -- that day has come, or _never_shall._" Charles organized his ranks to face~Agrramant, who came down the slope. Rinaldo came; King Charlemagne~gave him the rank he'd first arranged, saying, "Go quickly to those hills, right where the enemy descends, and use all means to battle them~at the hill's foot. "Do what I say -~ go to that narrow pass -- attack~the king who wears a flame on black. Now that I think of it, I'm sure~King Agrramant has crossed the sea, since that is King Sobrino's sign. I know it, and I know his power -- he is a valiant Saracen. Away now, son. Do not delay!" Charles assigns several other ranks, then leads the last troops in himself. -- Rinaldo Montalban is in~the battle, lance down, on his horse. Sad is the man he meets afield! Some he dismounts and knocks half dead; Some he spits through the back, like frogs. He breaks his lance, then draws Fusberta, @ and I'll tell you, he clears some room. "Who is that man who kills my men?" says King Sobrino, watching him, "Who bears a barred shield with a lion? This paladin's unknown to me. In that great country where Charles rules, I never saw him or this sign. "But it must surely be Rinaldo, whose name is known throughout the world -- Now I'll discover if he is~as bold as everybody says." He spurs his war-horse as he speaks, that king, who boasts of so much force, and since he'd split his spear afield, he hunts Rinaldo with his sword. -- Rinaldo saw him and considered~that king's appearance formidable,~his armor fine. He thought, "It's said~a good beginning gives an edge, [gravelly, scornful] so I won't _let_ you start. The man~who reaps first will not go without!" He spoke, then swung his hands about~quickly @ and gave his head a clout. The pagan's helmet was so fine that it was neither cracked nor broken, and King Sobrino never flinched, although he thought that swing no token. But that old baron was so fierce, he did not seem to care a bit; He faced the lord of Montalban and hit his head with both his hands. @ Rinaldo answered him at once, and the two started fighting hard; But this rank neared the other one, and everybody joined the brawl. -- Although the pagan men were more, each Christian battled twice as hard: Great was the horrible fierce roar~of screaming voices, drums, and horns. Lances and banners from both sides one toward the other madly moved, and when the armies crashed headlong~against each other on the plain, the foremost men received the worst since none of those encounters missed. Some pierced their spears through plates and shields; some with their horses fell afield. The first rank, where Rinaldo led~seventy thousand Gascon men, was swallowed up immediately~by them, as knights and soldiers fell. The African plebians seemed -- like hordes of insects in the heat, or fat ants swarming on an oak -- _numberless_ on that battlefield. And every king seems like a dragon~among our soldiers -- cutting, thrusting. Their swords put our men to the test. Great is that massacre. Our troops~scatter in discord or lie moaning. The swarm of Saracens keeps growing as more stream down the mountain slope. -- Rinaldo, fighting all this time~against Sobrino (who was losing), saw how his troops ran in confusion -- a sight that filled his heart with loathing -- and left the battle he had started. Gnashing his teeth, Rinaldo moves, cutting armed men on every side, and where the battle burns the hottest, he turns his horse and calls on God. The pagan knights now stare to see~a knight of such great strength that he~cuts a /man/ as he'd cut a _hair._ Rinaldo, unimpeded, swings, sending chunks flying through the air. Pieces of bodies -- severed heads~and arms and legs -- bestrewed the ground. The routed pagans turned around~and ran. They panted, their mouths wide, so frightened that they could not cry, and still Rinaldo swung Fusberta, chopping them into food for dogs: Sad was the man who tarried long. -- Not far away, some pagan kings, four of their number, saw that rout. They charged that knight from every side, and each one hit Rinaldo hard. He was outnumbered, and he strained~to fend the frequent blows that rained~down on him, for the four kings swung~and did not bother taking turns. Rinaldo raged at one of them, smashing Fusberta on his head, splitting his visor, helm, and shield: That cruel stroke sliced his chest in half. But now the second hit /his/ helmet with the tremendous club he wielded, a club whose shaft was iron-wrapped. He smacked Rinaldo on the head, that hefty pagan, with such force, he practically unsaddled him: Rinaldo bent, about to drop; the third king, though, knocked him back up. @ But now the fourth one hammers him, tearing his helmet's crest away, and while Rinaldo suffered thus, the Saracens -- so numerous -- one more time put _our_ men to flight. -- After the first platoon is routed, the second charges to the rescue, eager to be engaged in combat. Duke Sigier recognized Rinaldo, and hurried to help him at full tilt. He engaged one of the pagan kings, and Sigier beat that Saracen. His sword went through the pagan's stomach~and out his lower back, then passed~through -- and a foot beyond -- his saddle. He hadn't yet retrieved his sword -- @ {stuck sword} it was still stuck fast in the saddle -- when one of the two remaining kings turned to face him upon the field. He smote him with a stroke so hard it cracked his visor and his helm. That evil man had so much force, he opened up Duke Sigier's face, cut down his neck, and sliced his chest. -- Rinaldo was infuriated: He gripped Fusberta, and attacked~that pagan king, landing him~a great blow on his iron helm. That helm was very hard, and so~Rinaldo did no damage, but he left that pagan dizzy when~his visor smashed against his chin. He stayed like that a quarter hour, not knowing which world he was in. Rinaldo was recovering when the last of the four kings swung. He raised his heavy club with both~his hands and madly _smashed_ Rinaldo, @ who did not /threaten/ back, but flailed~Fusberta, which had never failed. @ The helmet cannot stop that stroke. It shaved off half his beard and dropped~his jawbone on his shoulder blade. -- Shocked by that swing, the Saracen~galloped away without delay and passed _Sobrino_ on the plain. He saw him suffering great pain,~and cried out, "Where are your friends now? I know, Rinaldo killed them all! No one believed my tales before, telling of Charles' power at home. But it seems _I_ was right, as we~are learning at our own expense. "Where is that strength and arrogance you babbled of in Africa? Where are the bold looks, where's the courage~you showed the day that you rode down~the mountainside in such a rush, thinking /Orlando/ nothing much? "Now you're not losing to the _Count,_ whom you've /caught/, in your _mind,_ and killed. That's not the man with Durindan -- and yet he beats you like a whore. You retreat, now that you're in trouble -- but *I* prefer death to dishonor!" Blunt old Sobrino makes this speech, and leaves that king behind at a gallop. He hacks our men without regard, destroying everywhere he charges. That valiant pagan slaughters our~soldiers and steeds on every side, heading to where Rinaldo fights. -- During the fight betwixt those knights, King Agrramant came down the mountain and filled the plain with so much rabble, it seemed the earth cringed as they yell. Nymph of Parnassus, help me now! Sound trumpets, say the words to me! As I get ready to relate~a large, long fray, I need your aid! King Charles saw his predicament. The emperor surveyed his men~and said, "My sons, the day has come~for which we'll be renowned on earth! We have to hope for help from God and stake our lives upon His love. It seems to me we _cannot_ lose: If God is on our side, who'll stop us? "Don't be afraid of that great mob, even though they have filled the plain. Much straw is burned by one small flame, and small winds bring enormous rain. If we most furiously fight, they won't resist our /first/ assault. Loose your reins and charge! Pursue! I _see_ them routed! Make it *true*!" When he had spoken, Charlemagne~lowered his lance and spurred his horse. Where is the craven traitor who~would see his sovereign go to war and not immediately follow? Everywhere, there's a mighty roar: Men yell, and horns and trumpets call. The pagans on the other side make the field tremble with their cries. The space between the armies narrows~little by little as they charge~each other, and no ditch or river~stands.in.between those souls of fire. -- They spur across the field so fast there never was a greater clash. Up to the sky flew splintered lances, clattering as they fell to earth. Shield smashed on shield, and sword on sword, plate clanged on plate with great uproar. The pagan army was in flight: our men held half the field, now more, as staggering back, the Saracens~were routed, reeling, and in ruin. They'd fled the length two arrows fly, when Agrramant turned them around, and then _our_ army panicked, wheeled, and started to desert the field, running from men they'd just pursued, Just like the sea when there's a storm -- first blown from shore by northern winds, then rolled back by a southern gale. The Christians and the Saracens played back and forth along the field, now on the run, now in pursuit, changing their places frequently. And though the lords and sovereign knights~abandoned ground reluctantly, the common soldier and the mob changed round like leaves with every breeze. Three times each side failed to sustain~its gains and fled across the plain. When for the fourth time they converged, both of the armies were determined~to stand firm. They met chest to chest. Horrendous blows began once more, cruel buffetings, and bitter war. {cough} Although the outcome's still in doubt, I fear my voice may soon give out~and so I'll pause my tale - for now;~next time: the climax of this row!