as was the tail – to its tippety-tip!

And a long, tied thong lacing it tight

was strung with gold bells which resounded and shone.

No waking man had witnessed such a warrior

or weird war-horse – otherworldly, yet flesh

and bone.

A look of lightning flashed

from somewhere in his soul. 200

The force of that man’s fist

would be a thunderbolt.

Yet he wore no helmet and no hauberk either,

no armoured apparel or plate was apparent,

and he swung no sword nor sported any shield,

but held in one hand a sprig of holly –

of all the evergreens the greenest ever –

and in the other hand held the mother of all axes,

a cruel piece of kit I kid you not:

the head was an ell in length at least 210

and forged in green steel with a gilt finish;

the skull-busting blade was so stropped and buffed

it could shear a man’s scalp and shave him to boot.

The handle which fitted that fiend’s great fist

was inlaid with iron, end to end,

with green pigment picking out impressive designs.

From stock to neck, where it stopped with a knot,

a lace was looped the length of the haft,

trimmed with tassels and tails of string

fastened firmly in place by forest-green buttons. 220

And he kicks on, canters through that crowded hall

towards the top table, not the least bit timid,

cocksure of himself, sitting high in the saddle.

‘And who,’ he bellows, without breaking breath,

‘is governor of this gaggle? I’ll be glad to know.

It’s with him and him alone that I’ll have

my say.’

The green man steered his gaze

deep into every eye,

explored each person’s face 230

to probe for a reply.

The guests looked on. They gaped and they gawked

and were mute with amazement: what did it mean

that human and horse could develop this hue,

should grow to be grass-green or greener still,

like green enamel emboldened by bright gold?

Some stood and stared then stepped a little closer,

drawn near to the knight to know his next move;

they’d seen some sights, but this was something special,

a miracle or magic, or so they imagined. 240

Yet several of the lords were like statues in their seats,

left speechless and rigid, not risking a response.

The hall fell hushed, as if all who were present

had slipped into sleep or some trance-like state.

No doubt

not all were stunned and stilled

by dread, but duty-bound

to hold their tongues until

their sovereign could respond.

Then the king acknowledged this curious occurrence, 250

cordially addressed him, keeping his cool.

‘A warm welcome, sir, this winter’s night.

My name is Arthur, I am head of this house.

Won’t you slide from that saddle and stay a while,

and the business which brings you we shall learn of later.’

‘No,’ said the knight, ‘it’s not in my nature

to idle or allack about this evening.

But because your acclaim is so loudly chorused,