The Calling

“My liege...Mordred has laid waste to Camelot”

Arthur’s face darkened in the sunlight as he faced the rider on horseback.

“Explain” he demanded.

The knight lowered his head and spoke through the green visor of his helmet. “My lord...I sent riders ahead to Camelot to announce our imminent arrival. Upon their arrival they were taken prisoner my Lord by the castle guards, stripped and tortured” the knight raised his head to look at the King as he continued his tale. “One rider was freed and has spoken of the tyranny of Mordred and his abuse at his hands”

Arthur considered his words for a moment before speaking. “Good Gawain...” he began searching his Knight for any signs of emotion or descent, “such treachery...bring me the rider!” he demanded, “so I can question the fellow myself”. Gawain nodded and pulled at the reins of his steed and headed toward the rear of the party. “Galahad...Percival” he said softly, “your counsel”. Two horses extracted themselves from the column of Knights and the three separated themselves from the rest of the men. Arthur looked over the procession of troops at his disposal and attempted to hide his disappointment over the failure of the recent foray into France. Knights sat on horseback in a long column, flanked on both sides by foot soldiers carrying banners, pikes and weapons. Each man wore a demoralised look as they watched the conference at the head of the column.

“Do you trust Gawain?”

“My Lord?” inquired Galahad.

“With the news spent from Camelot regarding his brother...would you trust Lord Gawain?”

“He has shown devotion to your charge my liege” commented Percival.

“Ah...but did not Mordred once” Percival nodded at the logic to Arthur’s response.

“That is true my lord, but Lord Gawain’s personal ambition has little in merit...while”

“Yes, Lord Percival?”

“Mordred has always had eyes for the throne”

“And Galahad, your thoughts?”

“I must agree with Lord Percival my liege. Lord Gawain has shown naught but utter devotion to your majesty. It would be my belief Sire, that he would follow you into battle against any such foe...even a half-brother”

“He did follow to France...” mused Arthur as he watched the return of Lord Gawain with a bedraggled figure, “and his counsel at Mons Badonicus did assist with our victory”. His spoken thoughts trailed off as Gawain stopped his horse before the King and presented the rider. Arthur looked at the man, and through the cuts and bruises he could see a dejected and broken spirit. “Speak man...speak to your King” he commanded.

The rider licked his mouth and spoke through cracked lips. His voice was strained and as he spoke, Arthur watched the cuts and abrasions on his face swell and turn with the man’s facial movements. As he spoke the King’s mind wandered to what other tortures he had endured in his name and instantly regretted his decision to enter the fool’s errand to France. The search for Lancelot had proven fruitless and served nothing more than a long expanse through the wilderness of France. Information gleamed by Iseult and Lord Kahedin had proved naught.

“My liege...my life...” the rider stammered. The King waved away his praise and urged the man on with his story.

“Three of us rode to Camelot to announce our return and we were greeted by hostility from the castle guards”

“Are you sure” demanded the King, “They are loyal to the throne”

“My lord...they still are, but it is a throne that Lord Mordred revels in” The King nodded his understanding.

“Proceed”

“We were seized as we rode through the gates and taken immediately to the throne room and paraded before Mordred” the rider almost spat his name as he spoke, “he demanded a reckoning with yourself and declared himself as the one true ruler of the Kingdom”

“How dare he...I rule by divinity”

“My lord” the rider lowered his head and coughed.

“You there!” shouted the King, “Get this man some water” he returned his gaze to the rider, “proceed”

“We were stripped of our weapons and taken from the room and down to the dungeons. Our armour was stripped from our bodies and we were beaten”

“To what end?”

“To denounce your rule my lord” the rider drank heavily from the water vessel presented to him before continuing with his story. “I could feel bones crack under the pressure of the beating, the nails pulled from my hands...that was before the burning. They stripped us naked and placed hot pokers against our skin...I could smell the flesh cooking beneath the pressure as they burnt my body” he looked at his hands and from his position on horseback Arthur could just make out red marks running from the riders sleeves across the back of his hands. “My arms...my back...my genitals...my legs...every part of my body was cut” he fought back tears as he spoke, “one of my colleagues died during the ordeal, but he remained obedient to you my lord...even in death”

“Then what”

“Ordeal by fire and water...we were repeatedly burnt then doused in water. The two of us were dragged from the cells and forced into the courtyard of Camelot still completely naked and stoned by the common folk. They trampled us with beasts...horses...cattle...then hung us from our arms at the gateway” The rider paused as he struggled with his memories, “I am sorry my lord...” he apologised, “I could stand no longer. they thrust swords and spears into our bodies as we hung, then lowered us. I watched as my comrade was decapitated and as pigs gorged on his body...I betrayed you My liege” he sobbed as he completed his story. The King sat in his saddle and watched the poor wretch before him. “I could take no more...”

“That matters not...I think no-one in our company could blame you for your actions”.

“Was all this the doing of Mordred?” asked Arthur.

“Yes My lord...wait...there was one other in the hall when we arrived. The Lady Morgan Le Fay”

“Damned that Harpy!” spat Arthur, “I knew that fool Mordred had neither the mind or the gall to usurp the throne” he clenched his fists in anger then turned sharply to the rider. “You man...why were you released?” he asked suspiciously.

“On the orders of the lady, my liege. I was instructed to present my story as a warning to yourself my lord”

“Ha! then Mordred is a fool, the throne and the crown is mine by right...order the men Lord Galahad, we ride for Camelot”

“But my Lord”

“Yes...what is it?” demanded Arthur impatiently.

“Your sister My Lord...the Lady Gwenhwyfar. Mordred has her and has threatened her safety on your approach”