Wizardness

Arthur stared at the throng of people. They were feting, dancing, cheering. Arthur’s stomach growled. Most importantly, they were feasting. There was a banner over the whole thing. Supposedly it said something about the King’s 40th birthday.
Arthur turned as another part of the seething mob let out a collective moan of disappointment.
“The young King Lancel just failed at removing the sword.” Morgana whispered in his ear. Arthur turned to her. He started, as he almost always did at her eyes. They held an age and wisdom well beyond her 8 years of age. It was said Merlin’s eyes were the same flickering and dancing hue.
Arthur grunted in return. He had another 9 months before he could give the sword a try. He wiped sweat from his eyes, “Let’s steal some food.”
Arthur watched the men struggle at the sword. They all hoped to pull the sword from the stone before the King returned. The aging king had been on a tour since his birthday 9 months ago. Today he’d be returning. The queue beside the stone was longer than it’d been since the King’s birthday. Arthur was in that queue. He was finally 10. Old enough to try the sword.
Arthur hadn’t tried to time his turn with the King’s arrival. It just happened that way. The trumpets blared announcing his arrival through the gates. Arthur knelt, impatient to give the sword a pull.
The king reined in next to the group of men and women. “I see there’s a grea many of you hoping to become heir upon my return. Young man, you seem to be holding up the line. Go ahead, pull the sword out of the stone.” These were the words the King always said when watching someone make an attempt.
Arthur didn’t know that. He felt a heavy burden fall upon his shoulders. He stood, shoulders bowed. He shuffled to the sword. The larger men behind him snickered at the thin young man.
Arthur touched the sword. He felt it quiver. He started. The crowd laughed. “It’s a sword not a snake. It won’t bite you!” cried a voice from the mob.
Most of the crowd was focused on the boy. Morgaana was staring intently at the King. He too had started when Arthur started. Like he felt some jolt.
Arthur adjusted his stance. He made sure he could pull the sword with a clean movement. He put both hands around the sword and pulled.
The sword pulled smoothly from the stone.
The sound was jarring, like two boulder grinding against each other. The crowd was silenced. Men were staring in awe.
Arthur staggered back. The sword tip crashed into the stone, sending sparks into the crowd.
The kingcalled, “Boy, what is your name?”
Arthu stared back, mouth agape. Morgana answered for him. “My king, his name is Arthur. I am his sister, Morgana. I can vouch that his birthday is today and he is 10 years old.”
“Well met Morgana.” The King said. “All kneel before, Prince Arthur!” His voice boomed in the crowd’s stunned silence.
The old King died only a few years later. Arthur was barely 15. News spread fast. King Lancel, the closest country and often at odds with Camelot, was the first to strike. Arthur, with the help from Merlin and his apprentice Morgana, swiftly defeated Lancel’s main host capturing the king.
Arthur questioned him, “Why did you raise your hand against my people, while we still mourned?”
Lancel sneered, “You are destined to unite all of Britain. If the country is united under you, what happens to the other Kings?” Before Arthur could answer, Lancel continued, “No. I knew you were but a child. So, I struck, hoping to claim your sword and your throne and unite Britain myself.”
Arthur pondered this. After three days of thought, he visited Lancel again. “What should happen to Kings when I unite Britain? Your people are now my people. If I kill you, then your people may rise up. If I imprison you, then your people may try to break you out. I will instead send you on a quest. You will help me fulfill another prophecy. You will seek the grail. You will search for 2 years before you return.”
“If I refuse?” Lancel calmly asked.
“You will tell your people of your cowardice. That you refused to find the grial. The grail that ends illness, mind you. That for this cowardice, I will punish you to death.” Arthur smiled as the man slowly blanched.
Lancel returned to find a very differnt Britian. He had heard rumors of wars in Britian. Where Kings had followed Lancel’s lead and struck at Camelot. King’s Galahad and Perceval had failed and were sent on the same quest as Lancel.
Lancel rode through his former country. His small retinue behind him. He’d managed to find some support abroad, mostly in Gaul, but not in Britain. His people were happy. He entered the village square of Bath and there were mid summer celebrations ongoing. The peasants were fat. They were dancing.
“Sir Lancelot!” Cried one of the peasants.
“I am your rightful King!” Lancel called, drawing his sword, “You shall treat me as such.”
“Sorry my lord. But you are not.” another peasant replied. A crowd started to gather.
“You are the first of the Kights of the Round Table.” a priest had worked his way through the crowd. It was his former adviser Lionel. “Our people are happy under King Arthur’s rule. You are part of that rule. You are a hero, searching for the very thing that will heal the only people Arthur cannot. The sick, the ill. What word do you bring?”
Lancel glanced about confused. The crowd’s mood had quickly shifted, from happy, to angry, to hopeful in just a few words. He took a breath. “I have not found the grail yet. I came to giv word to Arthur of the status of my quest. I have tiding from the King of Gaul. I will continue my quest. To help my people.”
The first peason called,”We know you will be successful, come! Let’s celebrate. It’s mid-Summer after all, my lord!”
Lancel met his King. “My Lord. I have met my people. They have prospered in my absense. I thank you for your care.”
Arthur smiled, “Of course. Your people are my people. I heard you were greeted as a hero. I’m glad. What tidings do you have?”
Lancel’s smile faded, “None. I was unable to find what I sought. I have failed, my king.”
Arthur patted his arm, “You have not succeed, yet. That is all. You may need to go farther than Gaul. Jesus was in Israel, after all. Come, we must plan for battle. Your former ally, Gawain, is assaulting your people. It would be good for us to defend them, together.”
Over time, Arthur and his Knights of the Round, all former liege lords of Britain, fully united Britain. Some Knights, such as Tristian elected to join the Kingdom of Camelot rather than join through force. Peace fell across Britian.
By the time Arthur was 40, the same age as the old King, peace had reigned for nearly a decade. Arthur’s son, Morgoth, was hungry for glory.
“Father, I am 15, the same age you were, when you first conquered Lancelot. I beg you to let me earn my honor.”
“Son, war is not the only way to gain honor. War of aggression, against the weak, against the helpless, is not an honorable war. Despite unifying Britain, I never once started a war with a neighbor.” Arthur sighed.
Before Morgoth could reply, Gawain rushed into the hall. “My lord. The Gaul’s gather for war.”
“Why after all this time?” Arthur’s brow bunched. His hands clenched his armrest.
“I shamed them. During my search for the Grail, I happened to be there, when a Green Knight challenged their knights. A single blow for a single blow. None would answer. I slew the knight. Or at least removed his head. He rose from his beheading and told me to find him in a year. Leaving his axe.
“A year later, myself and a number of the Gaulish knight found the Green Knight. I offer my head, unflinching. The knight decided not to take my head. He gave me his axe in honor of my bravery.” Gawain removed an axe, that was both heavy and inspired by the forest.
“The Gauls took exception. They were embarrassed and incensed. They took this as a stain on their honor and have declared to regain their honor through conquest.”
Morgoth spoke, “There is no honor in war for war’s sake.”
Gawain appraised Morgoth, “You speak wisely, my prince. Britain is lucky to have you as heir.”
Arthur cleared his throat, “We must prepare. The Gauls are a threat we mustn’ under estimate.”
The Gauls made landfall, pushing back the Arthur’s defense. The Gaul made steady progress. Starting with Tristian’s land first. Arthur held a war council. The knights in Britain were present, along with Merlin and Morgana.
Arthur, “We must hold. What can we do to hold these brutes back. Merlin, can you summon a fog to allow us to ambush them?”
Merlin shook his head. “I cannot. I can summon the rest of the knights to Britain. I have foreseen the only manner for victory is with a united Britain.”
Arthur considered this. “Do it. We will hold until they have all returned. We will protect our people as well as we can.” He turned to Morgoth, “You will lead a host with Lancel to protect our people. For a king is nothing without their people. Lancel, has experience with this and will teach you. Listen well.”
“I should be leading the host in defense of our land. I need the honor of defending our land.” Morgoth whine.
Arthur looked at him sharply, “The land is nothing without its people. You are defending Britain.”
Morgoth sneered, “Come Lancel. Let us plan.”
As the rest of the Knight left, Merlin leaned close. “That one will break the Unity of Britain unless something changes.”
“What do you advice Merlin?” Arthur’s shoulder sagged. He rubbed his eyes.
“Offer him something he wants. Perhaps, let him lead the fighting withdrawal.”
“I will discuss with Lancel after this initial evacuation.” Arthur waved away his adviser.
Arthur’s knights trickled in. One by one. The fighting retreat gaining strength. Morgoth, though, was more and more sullen each day he was away from the front.
A Gaulish company snuck past the main lines and assaulted a village under Morgoth’s command. His units responded immediately, removing the threat with minimal damage. Morgoth gave chase. Leading a flanking assault on the Gaulish forces. Lancel was mortally wounded in the battle.
Arthur met with Lancel on his deathbed, “My friend, I am shamed that we could not hold back the Gauls. That we could not push them back.”
“My lord.” Lancel coughed, “It is not your fault. Morgoth betrayed me. He struck me while I was locked in combat with a Gaulish commander.”
Arthur gasped, “I have failed as a father.” He wept. “Merlin warned me. I didn’t listen.”
Lancel shook his head, “You didn’t fail alone. Put him on the front. Leave Gawain here. The front may deal with the problem.”
Arthur stood, stunned. “I will have Merlin stop by.”
Arthur paced the halls of Camelot. He did not sleep. Could not go to bed. He found himself in the kitchens as they started baking the bread for the day.
“My lord,” cried a scullion. She cleared her throat and attempted a curtsy, “How may we help you?”
“Just some bread and watered wine.” He murmured.
The young girl ran off. Arthur sat and stared at the battered work table. He could smell the flour. The yeast from the proofing bread.
The scullion returned putting a plate in front of her king. “Anything else my lord?”
“Just a question, if your child did something unforgiveable, what would you do?” The king ask quietly.
The girl gaped at him. “Um, ah.” She cleared her throat. “I would send him away. Make him join the army. Nothing’s so unforgiveable that saving our people can’t make forgivable.”
The king nodded. “Thank you dear. You may go. If your chef questions you send her to me.” The girl quickly nodded and ran off.
Arthur slowly ate the bread. It was day old bread. He used the watered wine to soften it. It was almost as good as grape jam on the bread.
He dusted his hands off, stood, quaffed his wine and left the kitchen.
Later during their war council, “Morgoth. You will go to the front line. I will give you command of the eastern front. I will remain in command of the center. Gawain. Take over Lancel and Morgoth’s command.”
Gawain’s face darkened. “I will do as you command, though I fear you are surrendering our eastern flank. There are rumors about Lancel’s wounding.” Gawain threw a dark look at Morgoth. “I will go meet my commanders.”
Gawain swept out of the council before it’s conclusion.
Morgoth beamed. Ignoring the discord he had sown.
Arthur sighed. He held his head. There was no good solution.
The eastern flank almost immediately collapsed. Gawain was sent in to relieve Morgoth. He solidified the flank. Morgoth was furious. He stormed into his father’s solarium. “What is the meaning of this? You give me a command and immediately take it from me.”
“You were to learn from Lancel. You learned nothing. The feint you fell for was obvious. Learn from Gawain. Once you can hold the eastern flank, you will lead the counter assault. You will counter conquer Gaul.”
“NO” Morgoth screamed. Spittle landed on Arthur’s boots.
“What do you mean, ‘No’?” Arthur asked quietly.
“I will take over full commadn now.” veins bulged on Morgoth’s forehead. His face was red.
“Did you kill Lancel?” Arthur asked.
“You dare ask me that? You take his word over my own?” Morgoth stepped back. “You don’t love me at all. How can my own father, dare to ask me that?”
“I see.” Arthur stated. He sighed and stood. He walked towards a window, back turned to Morgoth. “I taught you everything I knew. I failed you, my son. It is not you, it’s my failure as a father that made you who you are.”
Arthur felt the icy blade in his back. He knew he was dead before he knife fully entered. Arthur pulled his own knife. He thrust backwards, into his son’s chest.
Morgoth pushed Arthur forward, sending Arthur through the window. Morgoth staggered back. Knife embedded deep into his chest. He touched the blade and retched. Morgoth fell to his knees and pulled the blade out. Blood poured out onto the floor. Staining the shape of Britian below him. He dropped the knife, it bounced and impaled Camelot.