The Calling

Francis walked in the courtyard, followed by Mordred and he watched as Morgan smoothed down the hair on Gwen’s head. “my dear...it would appear that your suitor has arrived” she said smiling toward Francis. Gwen shot a glance toward Francis and turned away quickly unable to meet his stare. He felt tortured, his heart died at her betrayal and he felt heavy in his feelings. He felt his emotion swelling in his gut as a combination of anger and disappointment threatened to overcome him. “Don’t blame her my dear” cooed Morgan releasing Gwen’s hair from her grasp, “it really wasn’t her fault” she glided across the courtyard toward Francis and stood before him regarding the youth carefully, “she didn’t have much of a choice” she smiled, then brought the back of her hand sharply across his cheek. The force of the strike thrust him backward and he stumbled to the floor, his hand sneaking to the side of his face. He could taste a slight tinge of iron in his mouth and his hand revealed small traces of blood from his mouth as he pulled his hand away gingerly. “What she did...she did for you” she said softly and turned on her heels and strode across the courtyard back to Gwen.

“Leave her alone” whispered Francis.

Morgan laughed and grasped Gwen’s face pulling her close, “you see my dear” she cooed in her face squashing Gwen’s face between her slim fingers, “he still cares...even after you betrayed his trust”

“What do you want!” snapped Francis

“What makes thee think I want anything from you”

“Then I’m free to leave” he mocked her and pretended to move away only for Mordred to grab him roughly by the shoulders.

“Let me have this knave and we can dispense of this jest”

“How many times!” snapped Morgan flashing him a quick warning, “as I was saying...” Morgan spoke directly to Francis, “I wish nothing of thee”

“But...”

“Hah!” she laughed clapping her hands together, “I like thee boy” she said, “your actions belittle your emotion”

“And your actions betray your words” countered Francis, “I know what you want” he stared at her as he spoke and the pair stood frozen; locked in a static glare.

“Then let us dispense the niceties and commence to accord” she moved across the courtyard and circled Francis slowly, standing behind him and leaning forward to his ear she whispered, “Excalibur...”

“And there we have it!” Francis exclaimed, “Excalibur” he turned his head to look at her, “I don’t have it” he said simply.

Morgan clenched her fists as anger rose through her body and she slammed her hand against his face. He felt his skin bruise as her hand connected with his chin and the pain coursed through his face, “you lie!” she spat, “I know you have the sword!”

“I never said I didn’t. I just said I don’t have it” he spread his arms offering her a look at his unarmed body.

“So you do have it” Morgan purred, “I knew it to be so” her eyes sparkled with the revelation and she placed her hands together, closing her eyes, “I shall have it” she whispered.

“No” said Francis determinedly, “I’ve told Merlin to return to sword if I do not return” the beads of perspiration formed on his forehead as he lied, and Francis hoped Morgan couldn’t read minds or see through his lie.

“It matters not” dismissed Morgan, “for we shall take the sword by force if need be” she waved him away.

“Why?” asked Francis, “why all the killing”

“It is our way” Mordred snapped, “The throne shall be mine by right of conquest” he strode across the courtyard and joined Morgan by the crystal sphere, “it is written that once I smite the purge of Arthur, then I; Mordred shall be King of the Britons” he smiled triumphantly as he slipped his hand into that of Morgan.

She looked at Francis and smiled, “I offer thee a deal youth” she said eventually, “thoust does not wish bloodshed” her statement brought a resolute shake of the head from Francis. “Then I offer thee this...” she released her grip on Mordred’s hand and walked toward Gwen who was still standing, silent, watching the exchange between the two parties. Francis waited, watching Morgan as she circled Gwen like a vulture slowly stalking its prey. She ran her hand through her hair and leant her head against Gwen’s smiling at Francis as she did so. Her fingers played with the strands of her hair and they cascade through her touch. He watched as Morgan’s fingers curled and swiftly she tightened her grip on Gwen’s hair, pulling it down toward her chest. Gwen winched with the pain as her hair was pulled forcibly and a slight scream escaped from her mouth, which caused Francis to step forward slightly from his position only to be barred by the burly arm of Agravain who had moved from the shadows. “Thoust shall give me Excalibur...freely and of thine own will” cooed Morgan.

“Will I?” commented Francis.

“Thoust will, and more over thoust shall do it tonight” she smiled and tightened her grip, “for if thy do not...the girl will die” she laughed as Mordred drew his sword and ran it gently across the throat of Gwen, the cold steel pressing against her soft skin.

“Please...” Gwen begged, her words unheeded as Morgan stared defiantly at Francis.

“Your decision”

Francis looked at Gwen and closed his eyes turning his head from her. His mind spun in turmoil, he knew she had betrayed him and led him into a trap but despite it all...

“Francis...” Gwen’s voice sounded desperate as the blade moved slowly across the skin, producing a small cut below her ear. He opened his eyes and saw Mordred grinning as a small stream of blood flowed down her neck from below her ear.

“Alright!” he snapped and stared down at the ground, “Leave her alone” he warned, his voice waivered with emotion, “you shall have Excalibur”