Dragon [Arthur’s Tale]

The following is another perspective of King Arthur, presented here in the format of 120 Year of Fayen.

Chapter 0.
Morgaine spied upon Arthur in the castle courtyard engaged in weapons training with Lancelot and Galahad. Arthur looked up and smiled. Lancelot and Galahad bowed to both and excused themselves from their presence and walked swiftly to the barracks.

Arthur looked around and him and Morgaine ran behind the tall shrubs. She grabbed his member, exposed it and gently caressed it, making it erect. Arthur ran his fingers through her long, black hair and then grabbed the back of her head.

“You’re only involved with me to stop thinking of Gonnore and Lancelot.” she smiled, then got on her knees. She looked up longingly into Arthur’s eyes. Then she received Arthur’s member with her soft lips.

In his heart, he what Morgaine said was true. He felt the pain of Gonnore’s betrayal. Tales of Lancelot and Gonnore had spread throughout the castle and into the adjoining villages. Everyone had looked at Arthur with great pity and not reverance these days.

The woman of his dreams was drifting away before his very eyes. He felt her leave their bed in the middle of the night and a hand maiden take her place. Out of spite, he had planted his seed into Gonnore’s various hand maidens, pretending to be ignorant of Gonnore’s rendevous with Lancelot.

What of Lancelot that Gonnore found alluring? He was not what many call an intellectual. He was merely a glorified servant to Arthur. Yet many believed that Lancelot’s simplicity and “innocence.”

Morgaine felt Arthur going limp. She looked up and saw tears streaming down Arthur’s face. Through his tears, Arthur failed to see Morgaine suppressing her laughter.

“I’m sorry, my dear Morgaine. I am thinking many thoughts at present time.”

Morgaine stood up and touched Arthur’s face.

“I will be in my chambers if need be. Tonight.”

Arthur then looked after Morgaine as she walked away. Morgaine was Darkly beautiful and sensual. Yet, she was not the love of his life. The sun was setting in the distance, rendering a dark, yellow glow reminding Arthur of Gonnore’s hair. He clothed himself and then retreated to his quarters. Again, tears streamed down his face as he walked, staring at the sunset.

Chapter 1.

In the dining room, Arthur had entertained himself with the company of yet another of Gonnore’s hand maidens. Gonnore had claimed to have taken ill and could not be present for supper. Arthur was angry but obscured it in Gonnore’s presence.

As Arthur poured wine for the hand maiden, Tristan arrived in the dining room in full armor, bearing his helmet in his right hand.

“My Lord! Pardon the interruption!”

“Yes, Sir Tristan?”

“There’s an invading tribe en route to Long Mynd! They are approximately forty miles northwest.”

“Hmmm.” Arthur stood as the hand maiden took her hand from Arthur’s lap as she had heard the severity of the news. “They will be here at noon tomorrow. Alert the battalion. We wait.” he said calmly.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Who is this tribe that is to be eradicated?”

“Just one of the chieftains from the North, my Lord.”

“Spread word that there will be no prisoners nor will there be conquering and assimilation into the settlements. They are overcrowded and the chieftains mistake my kindness for weakness. Tomorrow, it shall be offerings for the Goddess.”

Sir Tristan bowed and took his leave. He smiled as he left.

Arthur smiled at the buxom wench as he returned to the table.

“Show me why you are a hand maiden, lass.”

The hand maiden finished her wine and began to undress as she walked towards her King.

Chapter 2.

The King’s men had secured the castle’s perimeter during mid-morning. Arthur watched from a turrett with Sir Lancelot at his right and Sir Gawain on his left. He looked towards Lancelot and smiled. Lancelot returned Arthur’s smile.

Arthur once again felt Gonnore leave last night and a hand maiden taking her place to warm his bed in her place. Arthur slept soundly to prepare for this morning.

Arthur strained his eyes and spied lights from many torches in the distant forest. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Today, there was no prisoners to be taken and the Dark Goddess’ insatiable thirst for blood would be quenched.

Sir Tristan sounded the cornet to signal the approach. Sir Erec gave the command to fire the arrows.

“Hellfire, now!”

The sky was ablaze with fiery arrows swiftly approaching the forest towards the direction of the enemy torches. Soon, the forest was illuminated with flames. The sound of horses galloping towards Camelot.

As the horses appeared from the woodline, Tristan gave another command.

“Hellfire!”

The sky was again ablaze and once again Camelot’s best archers’ aims were true. Fiery arrows had struck much of the enemy, setting them ablaze.

“Lower the main gate!” Tristan commanded.

Just then, a large contingent of armored soldiers swiftly emerged from the castle and charged towards the enemy. At first contact, the enemy seemed overmatched.

Arthur turned to Lancelot.

“Let’s get down there.” he smiled.

“Yes, my Lord.” replied Lancelot.

Arthur, Lancelot, Gawain, Kay, Gereth and the brothers Balin and Balan ran down towards the bailey where their horses were.

They charged out of the gate and then the gate rose.

Arthur raised Excalibur in the air and beheaded the first enemy tribesman that he encountered. His knights were just as proficient if not more so and made the battle to appear simplistic.

A tribesman off of his horse looked up and watched Lancelot approach. The tribesman bent down to avoid Lancelot’s sword then quickly grabbed Lancelot’s right ankle, dragging himself in the process. Lancelot fell off the horse and rolled on the ground as the tribesman let the ankle go.

Arthur turned and watched through the fighting multitude of soldiers and tribesmen as Lancelot limped towards the tribesman and pierce through his chest with his sword. Arthur then turned his horse towards Lancelot.

Lancelot looked up and smiled at Arthur, raising both hands. Arthur smiled and then turned somber. He raised his sword and chopped off Lancelot’s outstretched forearms. Lancelot fell on both knees as blood sprayed from where his elbows began. Arthur doubled back and ran Lancelot over with his horse. Another tribesman walked towards Lancelot’s broken body and pierced his heart with his sword.

Gaheis spotted the tribesman and angrily approached the tribesman, raising his sword. He beheaded the tribesman in one motion and dismounted. He walked towards Lancelot.

“No! Lancelot!” Gaheis removed his helmet and bent over towards Lancelot, removing his helmet as well.

Kay, also dismounted and walked towards Gaheis and Lancelot. By then, the battle was over and a few scattered tribesman were retreating in two different directions.

Arthur remained on his horse and shouted towards the sky.

“No! My greatest friend! Why?!?” Arthur outstretched his arms for dramatic effect.

He then looked at the soldiers now gathering around him and he removed his helmet.

“Kill all remaining tribesman. Remove their hearts for the Dark One!”

Chapter 3.

Maerlyn the Wise, Arthur’s advisor stood next to him, facing the ellipse comprised of nine stones that enclosed Lancelot’s funeral pyre in the large clearing in the Southeast corner of the forest. Maerlyn’s apprentice and Arthur’s mistress, Morgaine stood behind Maerlyn and smiled. Everyone in attendance was donning the customary black robes.

Arthur looked with anger at Gonnore standing by his side and weeping inonsolably. He placed his arm around her as if to console her.

“I’m so sorry, my love.” Gonnore whispered. “I know that he was your greatest friend and the greatest of the Knights.”

“I don’t know how I will go on. I take solace in having you.” Arthur smirked, unbeknowest to Gonnore.

“I love you.” Gonnore said softly.

“As I you.” Arthur replied.

“May our memories linger to haunt the spaces and the Dark! So it has been, so it shall be again!” Arthur addressed those in attendance.

All present began to throw their empty wooden wine goblets into the fire and walked away. Sir Bors the Temple Guardian, Arthur and Maerlyn remained until the pyre was reduced to ashes. Bors would then spread the ashes along Marton Lake, along the Camlad River, the origin of Excalibur.

Arthur approached the pyre and spit on it. Bors said nothing for he knew of Lancelot’s trysts with Gonnore and empathized with Arthur.

“Traitor!” Arthur screamed at the pyre. “I didn’t execute you publically because Gonnore would hate me. In the very least, you perished as a hero.”

“Let us take our leave, my Lord.” said Maerlyn.

Arthur exposed himself and began to urinate on the pyre.