If like an ostrich he did not swallow iron and flint-stones it was because there were none to hand. He was so angry that he roared and bellowed like a lion! Tearing his hair, he said ‘What a fool I am despite my years! The gods have sent me a brave and noble guest, but if he is overwhelmed in the fighting I shall lose my honour beyond recall. What are my shield and sword for? – If anyone tells me I shall take it as an insult!’

With that he left his men and spurred towards the Gate. A squire approached him bearing a shield painted on both sides in the likeness of a man who had been transpierced by a lance. It had been made in Isenhart’s country. He also carried a helmet and a sword which Razalic had brought to the wars to prove his mettle. But the swarthy heathen had been parted from it despite his far-flung reputation! If in later days he died unbaptized may He Who works all wonders have mercy upon him!

The Burgrave had never seen a sight that gladdened him so much. He recognized the emblem and galloped through the Gateway. There at his station was his young guest, turning to cross lances with an adversary. His host took him by the arm and led him in again. Thus Gahmuret unhorsed no others that day.

‘Tell me, sir,’ said Lahfilirost schachtelacunt ‘was it you who defeated Razalic? If so, our land is safe from war for ever, since he is lord of all the Moors, of all those loyal men of Isenhart who have inflicted such loss on us. Our troubles are at an end. It was at the beck of an angry god that they came to invade us with their armies. But now their power of waging war is broken.’

Lahfilirost led Gahmuret in, much to his annoyance. The Queen came riding out to meet him. She took his bridle and unlaced his ventail. Gahmuret’s host had to surrender him. But Gahmuret’s squires kept close to his heels. The subtle Queen led her guest through the town for all to see – the champion! When she judged the time had come she dismounted.

‘Bless me, what trusty squires you are! Do you think you are going to lose him? He will be made comfortable without your aid. Here is his horse, now take it away. I am his companion here!’

Up in the Palace he saw many ladies. The Queen disarmed him with her own dark hands. There was a magnificent bed with a sable coverlet, where a new though private honour awaited him. They were now alone: the young ladies-in-waiting had left the room and closed the doors behind them. The Queen yielded to sweet and noble love with Gahmuret, her heart’s own darling, little though their skins matched in colour.

The townsfolk brought rich offerings for their gods. Do you remember what gallant Razalic was told to do when he left the war? He kept his promise faithfully. But his grief for his master Isenhart broke out afresh.

From the shouting, the Burgrave guessed that Gahmuret had come, for the Princes of the Queen’s land of Zazamanc were streaming to the Palace to thank and congratulate him on his glorious achievement. He had thrust down a couple of dozen knights in straight joust and brought in the mounts of most as prizes. Three captives of princely rank, attended by many knights, were riding to the Palace to present themselves at Court.

The lord of all these lands, having slept and taken refreshment, was attired in magnificent robes. She who had been called maiden but who was now a woman, led him out by the hand.