The stories of King Arthur are some of the most important in the canon of literature. They have inspired everyone from poets to playwrights, from authors to movie directors. These legends have been the groundwork for such famous pieces like Thomas Mallory’s Morte d’ Arthur , T.H. White’s the Once and Future King, the Broadway musical Camelot, and the action-romance First Knight. These tales are a blueprint for how the Western world views the knight of the medieval era and defines the code of chivalry. Indeed, the legend of king Arthur, his knights, and the quest for the Holy Grail, define the very essence of the time in which they lived.

Until recently, scholars believed that whoever Arthur really was, whether English born, or simply a Roman living in Britannia; his figure could be traced from the oral traditions of pre-Christian Celtdom. It is only recently that new evidence has arisen that leads some scholars to believe, that the basis for these legend comes not from western Europe but from a people who can trace their routes back to the southern steppes of Russia.

In the Journal of American Folklore authors C. Scott Littleton, and Ann C. Thomas have written a piece entitled The Sarmartian Connection: New Light on the Origin of the Arthurian and Holy Grail Legends. In it they produce evidence that Arthur’s heritage is not Celtic, but rather derives itself from a people known as the Sarmartians, who used to have possession of land as far as the Hungarian plain. The descendents of these people, known as the Ossetes, have in their literary traditions, a story almost identical to that of King Arthur and his knights. It consists of a band of men called the Narts, and their leader Batradz. The primary example within this set of stories is that of the death of their leader.

The story goes that Batradz is mortally wounded in battle. He orders his men to carry him to the lake, where he then commands them to throw his magical sword into the waters. Overcome already with the loss of their commander, his men hide the sword and then tell Batradz that his wishes have been obeyed. But he sees right through their lies and begs them to throw the sword in so that he may finally die. At last they do so, and as the swords touches the water it turns to blood. Batradz dies a short time later.

This account of Batradz’s death is almost identical to Thomas Mallory’s account of King Arthur’s death in Morte d’ Arthur:

… “therefore,” said Arthur unto Bedivere, “take thou Excalibur, my good sword, and go with it to yonder waterside, and when thou comest there I charge thee throw my sword into that water, and come again and tell me what thou seest…

… “Sir,” said Sir Bedivere, “I saw nothing but waves and winds.”

“That is unruly said of thee,” said the King. “Therefore go and throw lightly again, and do my commandment; as thou art to me love and dear, spare not, but throw it in…”

… “Sir,” he said, “I saw nothing but the waters wap and the waves wan.”

“Ah, traitor untrue,” said King Arthur, “Now thou hast betrayed me twice. Who would have weaned that thou that hast been to me so love and dear, and thou art named a noble knight, and would betray me for the riches of the sword? But now go again lightly, for thy long tarrying putteth me in great jeopardy of my life, for I have taken cold. And but if thou do not as I bid thee, if ever I may see thee, I shall slay thee with mine own hands; for thou wouldst for my rich sword see me dead.”

Then Sir Bedivere departed, and went ot he sword, and lightly took it up, and went to the waterside; and there he bound the girdle about the hilts, and then threw the sword as far as he might: and there came an arm and a hand above the water and met it, and caught it, and shook it thrice and brandished, and then vanished away the hand with the sword in the water. So Sir Bedivere came again to the kind, and told him what he saw.

The dying king, the command to toss the sword in the lake, the unwilling knight, and the magical events that occur when the sword is tossed to its final resting place all are similar in both legends. Another similar theme between the Nart stories and that of the traditional Arthur are that of a quest for a cup with special powers. In the Celtic tradition it is the Holy Grail, the cup of Christ who will give the worthy drinker eternal health and youth. In the Sarmatian legends it is the Amonga or Nartymonga “the Cup of the Narts.” This is a magical cauldron that will cause the bearer to never have any wants. But only those who show courage and who are blameless are worthy of holding the cup. It is interesting to note the similarities between the names of the Sarmatian cup Amonga and the dead Grail king of Chretian de Troyes tale, King Amagnon. There are also more similarities between the Welsh version of the Quest for the Holy Grail and the Amonga, than there is with that of the Celtic version. In the Welsh poem The Spoils of Annwn, Arthur leads a raid on Annwn, the isle of the dead, in order to obtain a magical cauldron whose waters never run dry and can only be used by those who have great courage and are beyond reproach.

It is clear to see that clearly there are literary ties between the Arthurian legend and that of the Sarmatians tales of the Narts. Bases on this, Littleton and Thomas then turn in their article to the archaeological and historical evidence. Based on evidence found in ancient Roman campsites as well a carving and drawing found in monasteries, historians and archaeologists alike have surmised that Sarmatians settled in a camp at Bremetennacum and were fully assimilated into society by A.D. 400. Because of the evidence found in the Ossetic tales, it could very well be that Arthur was a member of this group. It is also very likely that is was the British who adopted the tales of the Sarmatian people and took them on as their own.

There is even more evidence in the name Arthur itself. The name Arthur is not Celtic, but comes closer to the Roman or Latin name Artorious. In fact, according to etymological studies, there is no other person in all of England, Ireland, Scotland, or Wales to bear that name until several years after Arthur disappears from history. The Sarmatians had a leader by the name of Artorious Lucius Castus. He was a good leader, and evidence from archaeological excavations of the camps shows his men were treated well. Military evidence also encourages this fact as the weapons used by the Romans and Sarmatians fit the descriptions given in the legends. Artorious’ band preferred to use a heavy spear, long sword, and fight from horseback, rather than on foot with a short sword. The Sarmatians also tended to identify their warriors by symbolic insignias on their armor. This could parallel the very basis on which one of the most infamous names of Arthur, Pendragon comes from. Arthur was known for the red dragon that was emblazoned upon his armor and banners.

The evidence that Littleton and Thomas relate in their article gives those who quest for the real King Arthur and new theory to ponder. Indeed, it shakes the very foundations upon which his legend is grounded. Was King Arthur even British? In light of these new discoveries of the Sarmatians, one is likely to surmise that Arthur was an immigrant to Britannia, and either Sarmatian or Roman.

If these assumptions are true, then the figure of King Arthur – Pendragon, warlord, the great bear, rex que futures – is all the more splendid and wonderful. Because it makes him more than just another European king riding through glory into the pages of legend and history. It makes Arthur almost universal. He know longer belongs to the annals of ancient Western Europe, but to the world. Perhaps that is the way Arthur would have preferred it. In legend he was a man fighting for the equality and happiness of all his subjects. In life, as Sir Winston Churchill described him, he is the “true inheritance of mankind.” Perhaps then, Arthur is not truly dead. Perhaps there is a piece of him in all of us.