Read Online The Ballad of Sir Dinadan by Gerald Morris - Free Book Online

it have healing properties? Can it cure any ill? Right any wrong?"
    King Isbaddadon roared with laughter. "Ay, it can do all that!" He laughed a moment longer, then said, a strange gleam in his eyes, "It is said that any wine drunk from this cup becomes the finest vintage and is stronger than any wine on earth!"
    Bedivere closed his eyes, and Sir Kai muttered an oath, but Culloch's face lit up. "Now I call that something useful!"

    Culloch, Bedivere, Sir Kai, and Dinadan left the next morning, accompanied (to the displeasure of everyone but Culloch) by Wadsworth the minstrel. As they rode, Wadsworth hummed to himself a painfully simple melody with a short, four-stress line—Dah—de—Dah—de—Dah—de—Dah—de—over and over. Sir Kai had looked fit for murder since they set out, but when he actually moved his hand to rest on his sword hilt, Dinadan judged it was time to intervene. "Wadsworth, my friend," he said. "As you are accompanying our hero on his, ah, noble quest, it seems fitting that you should write the song of his adventures."
    Wadsworth looked at Dinadan coldly and sniffed. "Why, I'm sure I could not do it so well as your lordship," he said, his lips prim. Dinadan stifled a grin. So Wadsworth still smarted from his story's poor reception, and Dinadan's success, back at Isbaddadon's court.
    "But of course you could," Dinadan replied soothingly.
    "To be quite honest," Wadsworth said, "heroic tales are not my real strength. I am far more skilled at love songs."
    "Why then, you should write a love song for Culloch," Dinadan said promptly. "After all, these tasks of his are performed for the love of the fair Olwen, aren't they, Culloch?"
    "Eh?" Culloch replied, surprised. Dinadan innocently repeated his question, and Culloch stammered back, "Ah, yes. Why, by Jove, yes they are, aren't they?"
    Wadsworth peered closely at Dinadan. "Do you ever write love songs?"
    "I've never written a one."
    "Then I challenge you! A duel of songsters! Each of us shall compose a song on Culloch's love for Olwen, and these knights shall judge between us!"
    Dinadan felt a stir of pity for the old minstrel. Surely it must have been galling to have been shown up by a youth of Dinadan's age—who wasn't even really a minstrel. Resolving to compose a truly dreadful lyric so that Wadsworth could easily win, Dinadan agreed. Sir Kai then spoke suddenly. "This is an excellent plan for passing our time, but to make sure that each song is original, let us separate. Wadsworth, you ride ahead with Culloch—out of earshot, mind—and Dinadan stay with us."
    It was the most pleasant part of the day. Dinadan took up his rebec and occasionally even played a few desultory notes and idly experimented with a few rhymes, but mostly he chatted with Bedivere. Even Sir Kai, away from Culloch and Wadsworth, thawed somewhat and became almost agreeable. Meanwhile, a quarter of a mile ahead on the path, they could see Wadsworth assiduously working at his lyre. Wadsworth must have taken the contest very seriously, because he worked at his song for almost four hours before at last he signaled his readiness to present the fruit of his efforts, and the two groups came together.
    "Is your lordship ready?" the minstrel said.
    "Whenever you are, friend Wadsworth," Dinadan said. "Shall I go first?"
    Dinadan had offered out of generosity, feeling that it would be an advantage to go last, but Wadsworth's eyes narrowed with suspicion, and the minstrel launched into a long explanation of why it would be best for Dinadan to go last. Bored by Wadsworth's explanations, Dinadan agreed.
    "My lords and ladies," Wadsworth began, assuming a formal tone.
    "Ladies?" growled Sir Kai.
    "I sing for you a melody of great love, the love of the noble Sir Culloch for his absent lady, the fair Olwen, for whom his soul longs, in whose memory his very breath moistens the air, and for whom his eyes stream tears." Here the minstrel paused, as if holding back