And while Geraint was under medical care, the Little King caused his armour to be repaired, until it was as good as it had ever been. And they remained there a fortnight and a month.

Then the Little King said to Geraint, “Now will we go towards my own Court, to take rest, and amuse ourselves.”

“Not so,” said Geraint, “we will first journey for one day more, and return again.”

“With all my heart,” said the Little King, “do thou go then.”

And early in the day they set forth. And more gladly and more joyfully did Enid journey with them that day than she had ever done. And they came to the main road. And when they reached a place where the road divided in two, they beheld a man on foot coming towards them along one of these roads, and Gwiffert asked the man whence he came.

“I come,” said he, “from an errand in the country.”

“Tell me,” said Geraint, “which is the best for me to follow of these two roads?”

“That is the best for thee to follow,” answered he, “for if thou goest by this one, thou wilt never return.

Below us,” said he, “there is a hedge of mist, and within it are enchanted games, and no one who has gone there has ever returned. And the Court of the Earl Owain is there, and he permits no one to go to lodge in the town, except he will go to his Court.”

“I declare to Heaven,” said Geraint, “that we will take the lower road.”

And they went along it until they came to the town. And they took the fairest and pleasantest place in the town for their lodging. And while they were thus, behold, a young man came to them, and greeted them.

“Heaven be propitious to thee,” said they.

“Good Sirs,” said he, “what preparations are you making here?”

“We are taking up our lodging,” said they, “to pass the night.”

“It is not the custom with him who owns the town,” he answered, “to permit any of gentle birth, unless they come to stay in his Court, to abide here; therefore, come ye to the Court.”

“We will come, gladly,” said Geraint. And they went with the page, and they were joyfully received. And the Earl came to the hall to meet them, and he commanded the tables to be laid. And they washed, and sat down. And this is the order in which they sat: Geraint on one side of the Earl, and Enid on the other side, and next to Enid the Little King, and then the Countess next to Geraint; and all after that as became their rank.

Then Geraint recollected the games, and thought that he should not go to them; and on that account he did not eat.

Then the Earl looked upon Geraint, and considered, and he bethought him that his not eating was because of the games, and it grieved him that he had ever established those games, were it only on account of losing such a youth as Geraint. And if Geraint had asked him to abolish the games, he would gladly have done so.

Then the Earl said to Geraint, “What thought occupies thy mind, that thou dost not eat? If thou hesitatest about going to the games, thou shalt not go, and no other of thy rank shall ever go either.”

“Heaven reward thee,” said Geraint, “but I wish nothing better than to go to the games, and to be shown the way thither.”

“If that is what thou dost prefer, thou shalt obtain it willingly.”

“I do prefer it, indeed,” said he.

Then they ate, and they were amply served, and they had a variety of gifts, and abundance of liquor. And when they had finished eating they arose.

And Geraint called for his horse and his armour, and he accoutred both himself and his horse.

And all the hosts went forth until they came to the side of the hedge, and the hedge was so lofty, that it reached as high as they could see in the air, and upon every stake in the hedge, except two, there was the head of a man, and the number of stakes throughout the hedge was very great.

Then said the Little King, “May no one go in with the chieftain?”

“No one may,” said Earl Owain.

“Which way can I enter?” inquired Geraint.

“I know not,” said Owain, “but enter by the way that thou wilt, and that seemeth easiest to thee.”

Then fearlessly and unhesitatingly Geraint dashed forward into the mist. And on leaving the mist, he came to a large orchard; and in the orchard he saw an open space, wherein was a tent of red satin; and the door of the tent was open, and an apple-tree stood in front of the door of the tent; and on a branch of the apple-tree hung a huge hunting-horn.

Then he dismounted, and went into the tent; and there was no one in the tent save one maiden sitting in a golden chair, and another chair was opposite to her, empty. And Geraint went to the empty chair, and sat down therein.

“Ah! chieftain,” said the maiden, “I would not counsel thee to sit in that chair.”

“Wherefore?” said Geraint. “The man to whom that chair belongs has never suffered another to sit in it.”

“I care not,” said Geraint, “though it displease him that I sit in the chair.”

And thereupon they heard a mighty tumult around the tent. And Geraint looked to see what was the cause of the tumult. And he beheld without a knight mounted upon a warhorse, proudly snorting, high-mettled, and large of bone; and a robe of honour in two parts was upon him and upon his horse, and beneath it was plenty of armour.

“Tell me, chieftain,” said he to Geraint, “who it was that bade thee sit there?”

“Myself,” answered he.

“It was wrong of thee to do me this shame and disgrace. Arise, and do me satisfaction for thine insolence.”

Then Geraint arose; and they encountered immediately; and they broke a set of lances, and a second set, and a third; and they gave each other fierce and frequent strokes; and at last Geraint became enraged, and he urged on his horse, and rushed upon him, and gave him a thrust on the centre of his shield, so that it was split, and so that the head of his lance went through his armour, and his girths were broken, and he himself was borne headlong to the ground the length of Geraint’s lance and arm, over his horse’s crupper.