'Choose from amongst yourselves,' said he, 'the three knights that you all think the bravest and the best fighters, and I shall fight them, one by one. The knight who beats me shall have my sister Canacee for his wife.'
Now all the knights knew that Canacee had given her brother a magic ring, and that, as long as he wore it, no matter how deep a wound he got, the wound would not bleed, and he would not die.
'It is very well for Cambell,' they said. 'We cannot kill him, but he can kill us.'
So they would not fight, even to win Canacee.
But the three brothers, Priamond, Diamond, and Triamond, were not afraid.
'We will fight with you, Cambell,' they said, 'for all of us love Canacee.'
So a day was fixed for this great fight. On the morning of the day, no sooner was it light than the three brothers in their shining armour were ready on the field. Crowds of people came to watch the fight, and there were six judges to see that the knights fought fairly. Canacee, in a beautiful dress, sat on a high platform whence she could see all that went on. When Cambell strode into the field, he looked as if he were quite sure of defeating all three knights.
Then came Priamond, Diamond, and Triamond, marching together, in splendid armour, with their gay-coloured banners flying.
They bowed low before Canacee, the lady they loved, and the trumpets sounded and sweet music played.
Then a trumpet blew loudly, and Cambell and stout Priamond began to fight.
Furiously they struck at each other, and at last Priamond's spear went through Cambell's shoulder. But although the shoulder was pierced, and the pain from the wound was terrible, not a single drop of blood fell from it. So they fought and fought, until Cambell's spear was driven through brave Priamond's neck. Like a great oak-tree that the storm has struck, Priamond tottered, then fell with a mighty crash. There, on the ground, he lay bleeding and dead.
When he died, all his strength passed into his two brothers, as the Three Fates had promised to his fairy mother.
A second time the trumpet sounded, and slight little Diamond, his battle-axe in his hand, fiercely rushed at Cambell.
So furiously did they hew and hack at each other, that their armour was cut and gashed as if it had been rotten wood. No blood flowed from Cambell's wounds, but Diamond's blood gushed fast, and reddened the green turf.