TITLE: The Pictish Warrior
They marched, a hundred strong, through the open gates of Camelot, spiked boots stomping the ground with such force they left broken stones in their wake. Blue
tattooed faces glared out from under horned and tusked helms. Thick fur capes hung from the shoulders of padded, hard leather brigandines. Heavy muscled arms, scored with scars and paint, held unsheathed long swords carelessly or bounced huge double bladed axes or hammers off their shoulders. Soft leather layered made short, barely decent kilts that hung half way down their thighs, leaving huge, strong legs for all to see. Tall, oval shields decorated with ancient symbols with some long ago meaning were strapped to their backs. Long, matted hair of varying colors, from black to red to lime dyed blond, flowed down backs and over shoulders.
In the lead, on small, shaggy horses were five large men. They were armed and dressed same as their men, for the exception of the center man who rode ahead of the others.
His cape was the skin of a giant lion, the mane framing his shoulders. Instead of a helmet, he wore a thick silver ring around his head, which, on either side, hung large, heavy white tusks. His face was covered in a thick, curly gray beard, matching the thick braids that hung over each shoulder. He carried no shield, but a long flame dagger strapped to each leg. He held a large flail over one shoulder, the spiked double balls rolling back and forth over the lion fur keeping to the rhythm of the sway of the horse.
Horns announced the arrival of the barbarian army as they entered the court yard of the citadel. A herald stepped forward to call out "Caw o Prydyn, the Hunter of the Great White Boar, Killer of the Black Witch, Conqueror of Giants…"
"Bah!" snorted one of the riders, swinging down from his mount. "'at little beast 'ey be callin' a giant? Well, now, me Fadder, what'd ya 'ink 'ey'd call 'em all grown up?"
His comment brought a roar of laughter from his army, but only a "Humph." From his father and King, Caw o Prydyn.
Young squires and servants rushed forward to take care of the mounts as the King's sons began to dismount, but the first snatched a hand full of tunic, dragging a hapless servant into his face and snarled "What's ya 'ink ya be doin' 'ere, lad? Ya 'ink ya can handle a real brute of a beast like ol' Shaggy? Ha! Get yer arse away from me an' me beast 'fore ah use yer hide to shoe his tired feet!" and he violently shoved the boy away, stumbling into another who had quickly rushed them both to a safe distance.
Again the riders and army laughed.
"Hueil mab Caw!" roared the King and instantly every man snapped to a silent attention. Once his men were settled, Caw o Prydyn nodded sharply down at the nearest servants.
The skinny, dark haired servant hesitated, but only slightly, before rushing forward to take the reins.
The heavy King swung down from his mount with far more grace than one would have thought from someone so bulky and old. He nodded his thanks to the servant, before spinning about, his lion cape snapping out behind him. His heavy boots made a clanking sound on the courtyard stone as he stomped across to his son. Without a word, without a sound, the King slammed the back of his armored fist across his son's face.
His head slammed to the side with neck popping force, but the young warrior made no move to defend himself. He kept his hard eyes down, diverted, letting blood drip unchecked from his split lip to the white stone between their feet.
Caw o Prydyn let his dark eyes drift over his men, then his sons, and, finally he snarled to the son before him "Ya dishonor me again, boy, an' ah'll split ya sure as ah brea'. Understood?"
"Aye, fadder, me King." breathed the son.
The old man snorted, casting one last look over his men. Then he snapped about and took his first step toward the steps. He paused for his sons to fall into their appropriate flanking positions. His dark eyes remained level, straight ahead as he lead the way across the yard to the steps that lead up to the citadel.
King Arthur, stood at the foot of the steps, flanked by his advisors, patiently waiting for his fellow King's approach. The red caped Knights of Camelot lined the walk that guided the precession, ending with the elite Knights of the Round Table.
"You think…" Percival whispered to Gwain, "if he'd actually hit the boy, ol' papa would o' gutted him right there and then?"
Gwain smiled slightly. "Yes." Was his one word answer.
His fellow knight glanced sharply at him. Percival had been joking, but, for once in his life, Gwain didn't sound like he was. "Are you…"
"Shhh!" came a hissed command from Leon. When he had the two's attention, he tilted his head toward King Arthur, reminding them as to why they were all there.
Truth told, Arthur was just as curios as the big Percival. The young King resisted the urge to frown at his guests' display. He knew these Northerners were rough, crude men with their own ideas of honor and polite behavior. They came from a harsh land that taught harsh lessons.
He knew before he had invited them that there would be… awkward moments. He just hadn't expected them right out of the saddle.
But Caw o Prydyn handled the situation quickly and true to his nature. He struck his own son, in front of everyone, in defense of… a servant?... or his honor? Did it matter as long as his barbarians stayed peaceful?
Putting the scene aside, Arthur stepped forward to greet the visiting King. "Your Majesty, welcome to Camelot." he offered with an honorific bow of the head, a greeting between Kings. Then offered his hand, a greeting between men.
Caw o Prydyn pounded an iron clad fist against his chest, before accepting the offered hand. "Aye, a fine city ya have here, King Ar-thur o Pen Dragon." he answered, struggling with the th sound not native to his language. "It is an honor to walk 'rough 'em gates wi'out havin' to knock 'em down first." He shrugged and smirked, throwing a glance at the Knights behind him. "'ough, it'd been interestin' to have given 'em a knock ah'm 'inkin'."
Arthur hesitated, but managed to force a slight smile. "Well, hopefully, we can make sure such… knocking won't ever be needed between us."
The Caw's expression was hard, his eyes glancing about at the many, many armed men from both kingdoms. "Aye, aye, 'ere be wisdom in 'at. 'ough some of 'e young may look at it in o'er light." His eyes flickered to the side as if he was about to send another glare at his son. But then his eyes refocused on Arthur. "An' some of 'e old, ah dare note. It'd be strange to take 'e hand of 'e son when 'e fadder only showed fist."
Arthur let his eyes drop for a moment, remember past discussions with his father over a moment just like this. The Caw and Uther had long time been rivals, fighting over the smallest of honors. He knew that, under King Uther's rule, there would never be anything but war between the two kingdoms.
But Arthur was not Uther.
And, damn it, he was getting tired of pointing that out to folks!
Taking a deep breath, Arthur raised his eyes again to give the Caw his best, strongest I-AM-KING! gaze. "Well, your Majesty, perhaps, together, we can teach both the young and the old a new trick or two. After all, one man can be strong. Many can be invincible!"
It was something Guises had told him to say. The Pictish warriors respected strength. But the Caw respects smart strength.
Caw o Prydyn's eyes narrowed for a breath, before, a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Ah 'ink we, young Ar-thur, will have much to speak of." He nodded slowly. "Aye, much indeed."
0o0o0o0o0o0
The young girls huddled in the corner, giggling behind their hands, doing their damnest, and failing, to not seem obvious in their staring.
Though the Caw's sons and soldiers didn't seem too distressed at the scrutiny. The men stood about in the yard in front of their barracks, pushing each other about, comparing weapons with some of the knights that had wandered in for a closer look. Some had straddled a fence and were arm wrestling.
Merlin frowned at the girls as he walked pass, his arms loaded with Arthur's clean clothes for the night's feast. He paused as they giggled, but, when they gave him a murderous glare for blocking their view, he hurried pass. So quick to get out of their line of fire, the King's manservant spun around a corner and ran right into someone, dropping his whole arm load of clean clothing to the not so clean floor.
"Oh, excuse…" Merlin started as he dropped down to scoop up his fallen load. But his apologies ended in a curse as he inspected the once white tunic.
"oh, Merlin." Gwen giggled as she dropped down to help inspect the damage. Holding up one severely dusted shirt, she winced. "Oh, I hope Arthur wasn't expecting to ware…" She stopped when she saw Merlin's expression. She had to bite her lip to keep from giggling again.
Merlin groaned, dropping his head and shaking it. "Wonderful. Just… wonderful."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Merlin." The maid laughed. Scooping up an arm load, she offered "I'll help you."
As they stood, Merlin shook his head again. "No… no, everyone is running around with their own jobs… I can't ask…"
But Gwen stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Then don't ask. I know what you do for Arthur… and I'm sure he still needs a hundred things done for him before the feast. Give me the shirts and I'll get them taken care of." Huffing away his protest, she took the load and added with a laugh "Besides, I can get them to his rooms without running blindly around corners."
Merlin smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."
As they began walking down the hall, Gwen wanted to know "What were you running from anyway?"
"Oh, Rachel and the girls…" again he stopped in midsentence, blushing.
And again Gwen had to laugh at his discomfort. "Running from girls? Merlin, if the Knights knew of this…"
"Arthur runs from you!" Merlin shot back. "Besides, they weren't chasing me. They were cooing over the Picts." He wondered if he sounded as disappointed to her as he did to himself. Really? He chided to himself. Like he had time to moon over girls!
"Well, can't blame them." Gwen answered with a shrug. "Did you see how much they ware? Or, rather, how little?"
Merlin huffed. "According to Gwain, we should be glad they came in peace. You want to know what they ware in a fight?"
Gwen looked up at him and politely waited… and waited… and then elbowed him in the ribs. "What?" she insisted.
This time Merlin laughed. "Wow, aren't you demanding?"
"Do you want to do this laundry yourself?" she teased right back.
Merlin shook his head. Leaning close, he whispered in her ear.
Jaw dropped, eyes big, she stared up at him. "No…?"
The king's manservant shrugged. "Accordingly to Gwain." Then he grinned. "And we know he never expands on the truth."
Gwen laughed. "Oh, never…. But really? If they don't ware… well, anything… how do they keep from getting cut?"
"By not gettin' 'it." Was the answer offered from behind.
Both servants spun about to see two of the visitors behind them. The speaker of the two was the Caw's son, Hueil mab Caw.
Gwen recovered quickly, dipping in respect, offering "My Lords."
Merlin gave an awkward bob of the head, but he kept his eyes on the newcomers, not at all liking the way they looked at them. He suddenly felt like a mouse bobbing his head at a rather large cat.
Hueil's eyes slid down Gwen, then slowly crawled back up. "Aye, now, what ya 'ink 'bout 'ese two birds, 'eh, Eugrad?"
His fella, one of his brothers, slowly circled the two servants. "Aye, 'ey make a hungry man drool. Even the lad 'ere could satisfy a 'irst ah bet."
"Excuse me?" Gwen snapped. She spun about, dragging Merlin with her, putting the wall to their backs.
"Would ya look at 'at?" Eugrad chuckled. "Ah 'ink at lass has her some growl."
"Grrr." Hueil offered, baring his teeth somewhere between a sneer and a grin.
Merlin stepped in front of Gwen. "Is there something I can do for you? I am King Arthur's personal servant…"
"Ha!" Eugrad's hand snapped out, grabbing Merlin by his tunic and dragging him so close their noses would have touched… if Merlin had been a head taller. "An' what does a personal servant do fer 'e King?"
"Hey!" Gwen protested, but when she stepped forward to help her friend, Hueil wrapped his arm around the girl's waist, pulling her off her feet and against him. "Let me go!" she cried, slamming her fists uselessly against his heavy chest.
Hueil only laughed. "'ey so pretty, ah don't know which one to kiss first." And he nuzzled into the girl's neck, his teeth nipping her soft flesh.
Gwen cried out, kicking her feet. "Get off me!"
Merlin dropped his eyes, his hands wrapping around his captor's wrists. "Teine." He barely whispered.
Suddenly Eugrad let out a curse of pain and threw the boy against the stone wall with such force the world went black.
When light crept into Merlin's world again he was laying on the floor, leaning against the wall.
Ah, damn, he thought when he noticed the laundry on the floor again.
But then a cry cut through his foggy head, reminding him why the laundry, not to mention himself, was on the floor. He blinked away the flashes until he could see Gwen, now in Eugrad's arms, kicking and yelling at the Pict brothers.
Hueil nudged him painfully with the toe of his boot. "Ya still alive?" When Merlin smacked the foot away, he chuckled. Crouching down, he eyed the boy. Grabbing a fist full of hair, he tilted his head this way and that. "Wal, 'en, li'le mouse. Ya got yerself a bit of a growl too." He chuckled.
"Merlin!" came a loud, gruff voice from down the hall.
Instantly the Picts released their holds on the servants, backing away until they stood side by side, facing the interruption.
Gwain and Leon were coming down the hall, their long limb strides full of meaning. Though Leon's hand was on his sword hilt, his expression very serious, Gwain was grinning, his arms spread like he was offering a hug.
Hueil chuckled. "Gwain… lad, ya got all shiny." He accused.
Gwain chuckled back. "Well, Hueil, always getting into trouble."
Leon quickly took Gwen by the arm, directing her behind him, before easing toward Merlin. His eyes never left the brothers. He was angry to see the servants, two so close to his King and the Knights, treated as such, but he was too good of a knight to start trouble that could be, otherwise avoided.
So he waited for Gwain to start it.
The rough and tumble Knight kept his grin in place as he shook his head. "Been a long time, friend. Didn't think you'd be in the Caw's guard. You never were one for the city bustle. You or Eug." He nodded his head in greeting to the second Pict.
Eugrad huffed. "Like ya were ever a city folk, Gwain. What ya be doin' in 'is spit 'n' polish domain? 'e 'ought ya'd been banished from high 'n' mighty life."
"Well, you'd be surprised how grateful a king can be when you look after those he cares about." With a tilt of his head, he indicated the two servants.
Eugrad's eyes went big with disbelief. "Aye? 'e li'le mouse? 'e be kin to Ar'ur?"
"Damn well close enough." Leon growled. He reached down and took Merlin by the arm, dragging the boy to his feet.
Gwain chuckled again. He glanced at the boy. "Little mouse? Now there's a description." When Merlin simply frowned at him, he laughed, shaking his head. But then he turned his attention back to the trouble makers. "Hueil, Eug… my friends, why don't I take you down to the tavern where you can find good drink and some willing lasses to lay away the time the high and mighty spend making boring speeches and looking pretty?"
Eugrad snarled, one hand rubbing a red spot on his wrist, his eyes boring into Merlin. "Ah'd like ta have a word or two wi' li'le mouse, 'ere." He took a step around Gwain.
Leon instantly shoved Merlin back against the wall as he turned full on, ready to take Eugrad if he dared another step.
But Gwain stopped the Pict with a hand to the man's chest. "Now, Eug, you know me well enough." He told the man in low, dangerous tones. "Do you really think I'm going to let you another step closer to that boy?" All fun and friendliness was gone from every detail of the Knight. Gwain may have been a friend a breath before, but, now, he was a Knight of Camelot. Let there be no doubt.
Eugrad's lips curled, his eyes glancing down at the hand at his chest. He had known Gwain a long time, ran with him in all sorts of trouble up north, before Gwain became all respectable and such. Back then, Eugrad knew better than challenge the hot head. Foreign he was in his the Caw's land, but few mightier warriors had there been.
But, now, all shiny and pretty in his bracers and chain, spit and polished… a good Pictish Warrior just may think the man had gone soft.
Hueil had other thoughts. Reaching out before his brother could answer the challenge, he snatched Eugrad's arm and pulled him back a step. "'ink we can find 'at tavern on our own, friend Gwain." He answered, his grin never fading. He tugged on Eugrad's arm until his brother grunted a curse and obeyed, turning and stomping back the way they had come. But Hueil waited, letting his eyes drift over Gwen again.
The girl fidgeted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. Still she managed to force strong, hard eyes up to glare right back at the Pict, just daring him to make a move on her again. If only he knew her hand was wrapped tightly around the hilt of the small dagger in the folds of her skirt. If only he knew she was not only able, but more than willing, to use it… if the need arose.
"hmmm…" the big man seemed to purr. "what a growl." He admired. Then his eyes found Merlin. They narrowed slightly. "Some 'in' 'e willin' always manage to be lackin' is 'at growl. We'er it be a sweet lass or a wee li'le mouse." With a lick of his lips, he gave Gwain a friendly swat on the shoulder, then spun about and hurried after his brother as if there was somewhere they were meant to be.
Gwain stood where he was for a moment, waiting for the echo of their boots on the stone floor to fade, before he turned. Just in time to as he jumped forward to catch Merlin as he was sliding back down to the floor. "Woe, there, little mouse. Where do you think you're going?" he teased.
Bleary eyes blinked up at him. "You're not gonna start calling me that now… are you?" he mumbled.
Leon finally chuckled. "Well, it does suit you."
Merlin groaned, dropping his head in his hands.
"ouch." Gwain observed, seeing blood where Merlin's head had bounced off the wall. "Come on. Better take time to visit Guise." He took a strong hold on Merlin's arm, and half lifted, half guided him away from the wall.
"I'm fine!" Merlin protested and gave his arm a yank, trying to free himself.
Which only threw himself off what little balance he had, and he would have fallen to the floor again if not for the Knight's unbreaking hold.
Still…
"I have work to do! Who's gonna get the King dressed if… Gods, he'll show up with his shirt on backwards and no pants if I'm not there!"
"I'm sure King Arthur will manage a few minutes without you." Leon assured.
"Besides, with what his guests are wearing, you think anyone would notice?" Gwain laughed. Despite their mirth, the Knights exchanged looks over the two servants' heads, assuring the other that neither charge would be left unprotected.
The only reassurances for Merlin, though, came from Gwen, who called after him "I'll take him his clean clothes, Merlin. Don't worry."
With a sigh, Merlin finally surrendered. Not that he had much of a choice. Gwain already had him through the door and heading for Guise's apartments.
After a few stumbling, silent steps…
… very unlike either Merlin or Gwain…
… Merlin looked up at his protector and observed "You knew them… from before Camelot."
Gwain didn't bother to look at the boy as he lead on. "I wandered wide and far before Arthur gave me a home, Merlin." He admitted, though it didn't really answer anything.
Merlin frowned up at him. He wasn't sure if he was seeing a flicker of fear in the Knight's eyes or if the spinning world was playing tricks on him. "You don't like them." He suggested when he couldn't seem to make sense of things himself.
At that Gwain paused. Still not looking at his ward, he slowly licked his lips, thinking about how to answer. "Eugrad is mean. He will take what he wants, when he wants it, no matter the cause or the pain." He frowned, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Then he started them walking again. "But he will obey his father. He has no doubt that Caw 'o' Prydyn will lay him dead with one swing if he tarnishes the old man's honor."
The young socerer digested that for a moment. Again it hadn't really been an answer… yet, maybe what hadn't been said was what was important. "And the other one?"
Gwain flinched.
Now Merlin knew he saw it: fear! Gwain was afraid of the other one, the Hueil mab Caw.
Just before they reached Guise's door, Gwain turned Merlin and leaned him against the wall. He faced his young friend and met his gaze, eyes to eyes. "Whatever happens, Merlin, promise me you will stay far away from Hueil."
Merlin frowned. "You know what he said in the hall? What he and his brother were said they wanted to do to Gwen… and me?"
Gwain sighed. "Gender has little meaning to the Picts. Look at their guard. Ten, at least, are women. And just as tough and mean as the men. They live with a very different idea of honor than we do. In their world, if you aren't strong enough to keep what is yours, than it was never yours to begin with. And, with that belief, Hueil is a very rich man, second only to the Caw… and his father grows old with every passing moment."
The boy's head tilted to one side. "Is that why the Caw hit him? Remind him that he's still strongest? That he's still Caw?"
The Knight blinked, then shrugged. "Who knows what goes on in their heads. Just… Just stay away from, them, Merlin. Hueil won't care if he throws the kingdoms into war. Damn, he prefer it. You and Gwen… well, you'd just make it all that much more fun for him."
Merlin opened his mouth for further inquire, but Gwain grabbed his arm again, pushing open Guise's door.
Author's Note: Just wondering if there's an interest in this story. Please FB.
