If I Could Tell It

Camelot, Britain, 647

I had always thought of myself as a leader.

Dominant, the alpha, the one that people looked to for guidance in a time of crisis. Someone that others could depend on to have a plan, instruction. That was me. Especially in a group of people my age. I could take command, tell others what they needed to do in order to make the bigger system work, That was what I was good at.

I never felt more like a leader than the day I rode off to war.

I was decked in my shining silver battle armor, my red cape with the gold Pendragon crest flowing behind me as the wind blew it back. Excalibur hung proudly at my side and I sat atop my white stallion with confidence. I felt invincible.

Kay and Bedivere flanked me and Perceval and Lancelot rode on their sides. Behind them came the thirty footmen from the city that my father had ordered. Women and children, as there were not many men left, stood up and down the streets of Camelot as we rode through, cheering us on. Cheering me on. Because I was leading.

They shouted my name proudly and small children reached out to touch my horse as I trotted by. I smiled to myself, basking in my momentary glory. I knew that this praise felt good, but at what cost? I was being praised to kill other people, innocent people. And I was leading other innocent people into the war to be killed themselves. It really was a stupid thing.

Suddenly, my horse reared up onto its hind legs, stopping the parade. I pulled back on the reigns and came to a complete stop, curiously looking to see what had caused this sudden halt.

“Who goes there?” I asked in my deepest, most authoritative voice. Thankfully my voice did not crack.

“Arthur, ’tis me!” It was a northern accent. One I had not heard in a good couple of months. One I did not want to hear for another good couple of months.

“What do you want, Gawain?”

“I want to march with you.” He said firmly.

“Gawain, we are going to war; I doubt you want to go with us.” I said, irritated. I wanted to collect the last bit of glory that was being issued to me in the form of this parade. “Get out of my way.”

“Arthur, I want to march with you.” He was serious for once in his life. Dead serious. “I want to fight by your side.”

I motioned with a gloved hand for him to continue, my horse stamped impatiently.

“You have helped me in the past, and Britain has been good to me.” Gawain said, nodding. “It is my duty to fight for it. I think I may have given you a hard time in the past but know that I mean this; I can think of no one better to fight for.”

I looked at him for a moment. I analyzed his pale face that was hidden by his perfect hair. His dark eyes were impossibly sincere.

“Well, come on then.” I told him and reached my hand down to him. He took it, and I hoisted him up onto behind me on my horse. “You belong with the cavalry; you are my cousin after all.”

Arthur

After the results of what happened when I told Ty the truth about how I thought I came to Colorado Springs, I kept myself guarded. I knew that nobody would actually believe me when I told them anyways, but still, there was some part of me that believed that if someone was close enough to me, they would believe me. They would not think that I was insane. They would not laugh at me.

That part of me died.

I gave up hope that there would be anyone who could possibly understand. Except for Viviane of course, but Viviane was once in a lifetime, once in the span of existence. And Viviane was gone.

I told myself that I would never tell another soul about the strange occurences of here and there. They would be separate. Only I would know of it, and it would never flee outside the void of my mind. If nobody knew, then nobody could make fun of me.

Central British Battle Camp, 647

We reached the war camp the day before the battle was to commence. Lionel was waiting at the covered entrance to welcome us.

“Arthur, my lord.” He bowed to me, which I found strange because he had always been my master. I was not his. I suppose I was though. I was the leader now.

I nodded, and he lead us into the camp. I noticed that he had a curly blonde beard now; he had not been able to shave as he fought and lived in this rugged camp of men.

As soon as I lead our parade into the camp, every man and boy got down on their knee to me. I swallowed. This was what it was going to be like from now on.

The six of us (including Gawain) that were cavalry dismounted from our horses and followed Lionel to our respective tents.

Mine was a bright red weathered fabric that was held up in the center by a large wooden pole and was staked to the ground in a circle. I entered in through the flap that was buttoned to the tent, and one of the footmen followed me in with a trunk full of my things.

Toward the back there was a wood and grass cot and next to it was a wooden bed table. In the center of the tent was a rectangular oak table with six matching chairs around it. The flooring was a thin worn rug that was draped straight over the grass on the ground. This was to be my home for as long as the war lasted which might very well be the rest of my life. The quarters were not very prestigious but I knew that they were probably the nicest in the entire camp.

After I was done investigating my small living area I walked back out into the center of the camp to look around and try to make some sort of sense of everything.

Every eye turned to me as I meandered into everyone’s vision. I did not mean to be the center of attention, it just sort of happened. The men rose to me and I glanced around nervously. I realized that they were expecting me to make some sort of speech to them.

My armor suddenly felt as if it weighed three hundred pounds when really it was only seventy five. I took a deep breath and squeezed Excalibur’s hilt nervously. I saw Lancelot and Perceval standing together with Gawain watching me expectantly. I cleared my throat, and forced words to form in my mouth.

I had never had any problems coming up with words to say in front of a crowd, public speaking had never been hard for me, as it was for many people. When I stood in that camp though, with all of those men looking at me hopefully, as if I was going to be the one to bring them out of that wretched war, it was hard. It scared me. I was only a fourteen year old boy who had been desperately thrown into an impossible situation that I had no control over.

“H-hello.” I said weakly, then cursed myself for beginning so unconfidently. I cleared my throat again. I had no idea what to say. “My name is Arthur.”

Duh! Of course they know who you are! Do not start with that you idiot! You have to sound strong!Masculine! Like you actually might not completely fail at leading them into battle!

“I believe that this war has gone on too long.” I said truthfully. I praised myself for the deepness of my voice. “I think that is time we end it.”

There were nods of approval around the circle of men that had gathered around me. I sucked in air through my nose.

“I have never lead so many men before.” I said, praying that it did not make me sound weak and inexperienced. “So many valiant warriors. I know that many of you probably doubt my ability to do so, but hear me on this; I promise that we will end this catastrophe and that we will all be able to go home, at least for a little bit. If not tomorrow then the times to come.”

I heard a single pair of hands clapping then. It was Bedivere, he was nodding as he did so. Then Kay joined in with him, and then Lancelot, Gawain, and Perceval. More and more men joined in until I saw every person around me clapping for what I had said. I smiled and I felt the nervous pit in my stomach dissolve. I nodded and I could not keep myself from grinning at their approval. Never before had I felt a better feeling. It was even more rejuvenating than when I had held Excalibur in my hands for the first time.

I let the breath out that I had not even realized I had been holding. These men believed that I could do it. If only I could as well.

Colorado Springs, America, 2010

That day in America I was a nervous wreck.

I was so nervous that as soon as I woke I ran to the bathroom and threw up.

Miss Marion had heard me and she immediately got out of bed and helped me clean myself up. Then after she had me shower and brush my teeth she tucked me back into bed and told me that I needed to stay there all day. I could not even go to football practice that afternoon.

“Did you feel sick yesterday?” She asked me as she shoved an electric thermometer into my mouth.

I pointed to the metal stick that was keeping me from answering her.

“Oh right.” She said and laughed. The thermometer beeped and she pulled it out. “Ninety seven point eight. You don’t have a fever.”

I nodded. Of course I did not have a fever. I was not sick.

“Are you upset about something sweetie?” She asked me as she brushed my hair out of my face.

“Um no.” I said as I pulled the comforter up over my bare chest. “It was probably just something I ate.”

“I don’t think so.” She disagreed with me. “You ate what Anthony and I ate yesterday. A lot more of it though.”

I shrugged.

“Arthur you’ve lived with me for two years now I can tell when there’s something going on.” She said. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I loved Miss Marion as my second mother but she knew next to nothing about me. “You can tell me.”

“Really it’s nothing.” I said. All I wanted was for her to go away so I could go back to sleep and hopefully wake up there so I could make some last minute critiques to the plan of attack.

“You haven’t been drinking have you?” She asked suspiciously. “Or heaven forbid, doing marijuana?”

“No no of course not.” I said quickly. “I don’t know what’s going on with me.”

Miss Marion sighed in defeat, obviously realizing that she was not going to get the real answer out of me.

“Well if your stomach feels better when you wake up I’ll make you the best pancakes you’ve ever had.” She said and stood up from sitting on the edge of my bed. She began to leave and I smiled. “You are sick on your summer vacation after all.”

“Hey Miss Marion,” I said as she opened the door.

“Yes sweetie?”

“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me.”

“I like doing it for you Arthur.” She said and smiled warmly at me. “Now get some rest.”

I turned out my bedside lamp then, buried my face in my pillow, and went to plagued sleep.

Central British Battle Camp, Britain, 647

It was still dark when I woke up there. I rose from my cot and slipped a cloak over my under tunic and breeches and pulled on a pair of leather boots. I used the candle on my table as a light and walked to Lionel’s tent which was directly to the right of mine.

“Hello?” I called softly.

“Hello Arthur.” Lionel’s voice called back to mine, he was sitting in the dark at his own table. “Please, sit down.”

I sat down where he requested me to and lit his candles with my own so that we could see each other clearly.

“I can never sleep the night before a battle either.” Lionel said truthfully. “I just keep thinking of all those men we are to kill...they must have families too…”

I nodded even though that was not at all what I was thinking. I had never felt much compassion toward the men that we were going to kill tomorrow, I was thinking only of how we could acquire victory.

“Drink.” Lionel commanded me and pushed a silver chalice toward me.

I took a sip expecting wine and instead tasted a thicker, metallic tasting liquid.

“What is this?” I asked as I licked my lips and swallowed, trying to get the bitter taste out of my mouth.

“Dragon’s blood.” He said solemnly and took a draft in. “It is supposed to make it so that you can kill without feeling. That might just be a myth though.”

I just looked at him for a moment. I suppose Lionel’s compassion was one of the things that made him so great, I never imagined that it might be a flaw, now that I thought about it it very well would be in a war. Someone like me could probably kill without a second glance as I did not like people so much because they did not make sense. Lionel liked people, how could he kill them?

“I do not think I will have a problem killing.” I said truthfully.

Lionel sighed. “You always were different.”

I did not say anything and we just looked at each other in the silent darkness.

“What if I fail?” I asked quietly. “What if I mess up and I lead all the men to their death?”

“Arthur.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “You are an amazing young man. I can think of no one else that I would want to lead me to battle.”

“But I have never even fought before.” I said inconfidently. “I am so inexperienced.”

“Have the boys been giving you a hard time still?” Lionel asked. “Kay? Bedivere?”

“No they are not.” I said and played with some of the melted wax on my candle.

“You will gain experience.” Lionel told me firmly. “Right now all you need to worry about is getting some sleep. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow. We will meet in my tent to discuss our plan of attack tomorrow.”

I nodded and got up from the table.

“And Arthur.” Lionel said, I turned back around. “All of us have faith in you. The question is do you have faith in yourself?”

I did not have faith in myself. I was positive that I was going to lead all of those men relying on me to their death.

Colorado Springs, America, 2010

I woke up around ten o’clock that morning there and went down to the kitchen in just my shorts.

Miss Marion ruffled my hair and put a heaping plate full of fluffy golden pancakes in front of me. I drowned them in maple syrup and began shoveling forkfuls in my mouth. I realized that I had not eaten anything last night there because of my nervousness and I was starving.

When I was finished I leaned back in my seat and sighed. I just needed someone to reassure me that everything would be alright. Like my mother used to do. My real mother. I desperately wished that I could confide in Miss Marion about what I was going through but I knew that she would not believe me. She would have the same reaction as Ty, except she might actually think I was mental.

It felt like I was stuck between two worlds. Each one was holding one of my hands and pulling, trying with all its might to keep me there. Each of the worlds were equally strong though, so neither one could pull me all the way in. Sometimes one would feel like it was winning and I felt much more attached to it and other times it felt as if I could not decide which one was real. That was what it was like most of the time. The lines between the real and the fake were blurred.

Central British Battle Camp, Britain, 647

Lionel woke me up that morning. To my surprise I actually overslept, which was the last thing I expected to do considering how incredibly nervous I was to be leading the Britons into battle that day. Soon after we walked into his tent where Lancelot, Perceval, Kay, Bedivere, Gawain, and...Merlin (?) were already seated around his table eating hard biscuits and dried venison.

I sat down in the seat left for me and rubbed my messy hair so it stuck straight up in the front; at least it was out of my eyes.

“Merlin?” I asked tiredly. “What are you doing here?”

“I cannot have you and Lancelot going on adventures without me now can I?” Merlin asked playfully.

I raised my eyebrows at him. Whenever Lancelot and I went on small quests to do things, he always opted not to go. “Since when has this realization occurred to you?”

“Knowing you, Arthur, you will trip and fall as you are riding in. I cannot have you dying before your kingship.” Merlin said meanly. I knew what he was saying though. He was worried about me, and he wanted to help me fight.

I smiled. “How did you even get here?”

“I will let you guess.” He said mysteriously. That obviously meant that he had used sorcery, and I gave him a knowing look. If he divulged the secret that he was a sorcerer, many of the men in camp would have him killed immediately because of my father’s laws.

“Are you ready?” Lancelot asked me warmly. He gave me a gentle pat on my shoulder.

I nodded and took a biscuit from the steel tray on the table. It tasted like dried glue and cardboard, but I ate it anyway and took another because I knew that I would regret later if I did not.

Lionel took a breath and spoke quietly to me. “Arthur, because you are leader, it is your duty to come up with the basis for a plan of attack and lead this meeting.”

I cringed. I should have realized that.

“What is the terrain of the battlefield like?” I asked him, trying to get at least some sort of basis for what it might be like before I started rattling off gibberish.

“It is a flat grassy meadow inside of a long valley; there are a few rocks, but they are not big enough to hide behind,” Lionel explained. “We need a plan that does not require archers to be unseen. I believe that is where we have failed in the past.”

“You said that the battle will be held in a valley?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“What if we did not march straight through the valley and instead came over the sides?” I asked. “Or we could just have a few people marching the normal route and have the rest of everyone come rushing down?”

“The sides of the valley are practically cliffs,” Lionel said doubtfully. “It would be incredibly difficult to bring horses down over them.”

“We could have archers on horses going the normal way,” I could practically feel the wheels in my mind beginning to spin rapidly as an idea formed. “All the rest of us could come down over the sides by foot and pose a distraction to them while the archers on the horses at the far end of the valley pick off their cavalry one by one. Then the archers would not need to be hidden at all. Plus, I think that a lot of our men, at least me, are better with sword and spear on foot than on horseback. We have more of a range of angles that way and we are more agile.”

Everyone at the table was staring at me wide-eyed. I do not think that they had expected me to come up with a plan so quickly. I smiled to myself. I had impressed them. Then, remembering what my teachers there had lectured me about teamwork and not just taking over, I said, “At least, if you guys think that is a good plan.”

Kay sat up in his seat. “That is actually a brilliant plan, Arthur. That way we could use our tournament training, you know, the work we do to get better in our individual duels.”

“And it would give our footmen more of an advantage,” Perceval agreed. “If we are on the ground with them it makes that angle of the force stronger and would likely make it so that less of them get hurt or killed.”

“Am I late?” A lazy voice came into our ears.

We all looked that direction. Gawain was slouching in the tent flap door frame. He looked like he had been drinking. I was beginning to regret my decision on letting him come with us.

“Who is that?” Lionel asked. I realized that when I had introduced all the boys to Gawain that did not know him on the journey here Lionel was not with him. It felt wrong to say to Lionel that he was the boy that I had hid in my closet.

“That is Gawain,” I said quickly before any of the other boys could say anything that would potentially embarrass me in front of Lionel whom I greatly respected. “He is my cousin.”

“Wait a moment…” Lionel said, as if thinking hard. “Your cousin...Gawain...you were that boy from Orkney who went missing a few years back! Morgause’s son!”

Gawain nodded as if he was proud of the fact that he had caused so much panic from his disappearance. He bowed. “At your service, my lord.”

I rolled my eyes.

“How did he get here?” Lionel asked. “Uther never mentioned anything about it.”

“Probably because Arthur kept him hidden in his rooms,” Perceval said triumphantly. He knew he was tattling and he smirked at me; I wanted to hit him.

“It was for only three moons!” I defended myself. “Believe me, that is the most amount of time I can handle from Gawain!”

“You are the one who brought him home with you from Meredith,” Kay said haughtily. He had obviously gotten annoyed with Gawain over the course of our journey as well. He did not need to take it out on me, however.

“Oh and what were we doing in Meredith Kay?” I fired back. “I remember, I was killing the dragon that you ran from! And then lied about!”

His nostrils flared. We had never spoken to anyone else about what had happened that day.

“That did not happen!” He defended himself.

“Really?” I asked angrily. “Gawain was there! Let us ask him!”

Both of looked in fury at Gawain who was barely standing up and looking at us wide-eyed as if afraid of the both of us.

“Uh…” He said nervously, looking at the two of us who were both seething in anger. “I-I do not want to get into a fight between you too.”

“Gawain is right!” Lionel’s voice suddenly pierced through our rage. He stood up quickly. “Both of you are acting like children!”

“I am not the one lying,” I said arrogantly and glared at Kay, my eyes were like fire.

“Arthur.” Lionel scolded me. “You are supposed to be our leader. You are arguing with one of your men about something that happened two years ago that none of us even know about. You are not doing your duty.”

Kay continued to smirk at me as if vindicated. I gave him my fiercest glare in hopes of impressing my anger on him.

“Kay.” I smirked at Kay. At least he was in trouble too. “You should not have blamed Arthur for bringing an extra man with us. We can use all the help we can get. He is an advantage for us.”

“And you.” Lionel’s stern tone went in Gawain’s direction. “Are you drunk?!”

“W-well, I only had four cups out of that ale barrel by the well,” he said, his eyes never quite met Lionel’s.

I had to stifle my laughter, and I noticed the other boys at the table doing the same.

“Only...four cups….?” Lionel blinked. “That ale is not watered down yet! That was why it was by the well!”

I had to put my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud at Gawain’s stupidity. Lionel did not yet know him.

“I know,” Gawain said.

All of us looked at him awkwardly. Lionel sucked in air through his nose. I could tell he was deciding whether or not to try to argue with Gawain. He must have decided against it because he sat down and put his hand up as if implying he did not know how to deal with it.

We all looked at each other, waiting for something to happen. Gradually each and every gaze shifted to me. I looked to Lionel for help, and he motioned with his eyes for me to speak.

“Anyways,” I said, clearing the wayward glances and the tone that now lingered around the tent. Gawain sat down on the ground, which I found odd, but I did not question it. “Did anyone have anything more to say about my plan?”

Heads shook.

“What if our archers cannot aim on horseback?” Lancelot asked quietly. He was usually like that in a group, quiet.

“That is a risk we must be willing to take.” I said firmly.

“I have something to say.” Merlin spoke up.

“Yes?”

“What if the Saxons do not intend to march straight down the valley?” He asked. “Or what if they use magic and find out what the plan is?”

All of us went dead silent. We heard the tent rustle in the morning breeze. One did not mention magic. Especially not that someone could be using it against us.

“Ah Merlin.” Lancelot said softly. He gave him a look. “I doubt anyone is using magic against us.”

Merlin took the hint and shut his mouth.

“He is right about if they do not march straight down the valley.” Bedivere said, halfway standing up for Merlin, whom I assumed he had just met. “We should have at least some sort of back up plan.”

“We should use the woods.” Lancelot said. “We know how to use them from our capture the flag games. We should use that to our advantage, if anything goes wrong we run to the woods and hide out until we can regroup.”

“That is a good idea.” I agreed. “So is it settled then? If anyone disagrees say nay.”

Everyone shook their heads. I took a breath, at least now we had a plan. I felt good about the plan too. It was so unique, that it just might work.

“We will meet in the center of camp two hours past noon to march.” Lionel said solemnly. “Until then, get your things ready, prepare your body and your mind.

“This will be a night to remember.”