Chapter one: The first step
Sequel to Misguided Roses, but you don't have to read it first. "Their will always be an enemy to slay, and evil to battle. All we can do is hold on to our ideals of freedom and equality." These were the words of Arria, the Lady Knight. I am Lucan, Prince of Britain, and I live by her words. This is my story.
I was seven when I was taken out of the darkness. I cannot remember my life before, but I am told my Woad mother died giving birth to me, and my serf father raised me on the lands of Marius Honoras. Some of the girls call it a fairy tale, that a simple serf boy would rise to be Prince of Britain, adopted by the most famous king in all the world. I don't know what to think. I suppose I should be grateful to live a life of privilege, and I hope to live up to everyone's expectations. But even princes have demons to fight.
"Lucan!" They called, shouting my name across the fields. I suppose I was hidden from sight, resting against one of the many apple trees that grew on Camelot's border. Sighing heavily, I stretched and dragged myself from my spot overlooking the lake. It was springtime, with new greens and flowers in bloom all around. The time of rebirth and plantation.
I made my way along the trail back to courtyard where they waited. "Tis a bit early to be yelling for me."
Lancelot rolled his eyes and clasped arms with me. "It's good to see you too."
I smiled and hugged the woman beside him. "I see you've gained a bit." In return I received a painful jab to the arm. Arria clutched her stomach as Lancelot squeezed her hand in delight.
"Lancelot says I can't continue with the spring campaign due to this…thing growing rather largely inside of me."
"Considering by the next full moon it'll be out of you, I refuse to let you go" Lancelot stated, his tone flat as if this was the tenth time he'd told her.
"It's all your fault" she muttered. Lancelot and Arria were two of King Arthur's Knights of the Round. Many stories had been told of his womanizing ways, and how she managed to out charm him I'll never know. But that is another tale.
Lancelot kissed her on the cheek and turned back to me. "Arthur's been waiting for you. We have much to tell from our visit to the Duke of Hempshire."
I nodded and followed them inside. All has been quiet with the Saxon incursions over the past few seasons. There were a few skirmishes here and there, but nothing of the magnitude since the Battle of Badon, and that was seventeen years ago. Prosperity has reigned since then, with every once and a while a scuffle with Irish raiders. Nearly a month ago Arthur left with a few of his Knights and King's Riders to Hempshire, where rumors were flying that the Duke was experiencing rather strange events happening to his people.
Passing along the kitchens, I swiftly insert an apple into my pocket before the staff could see and yell at me. Finally we arrived at the new Room of the Round, where endless talks of peace and war occurred. There stood the king of Britain, my adopted father. He aged much over the past few years, his brown hair gray and receding. His eyes were stil kind, but distant. Arria says he was so vibrant before Guinevere died.
I embraced Arthur and sat down beside him as everyone greeted each other. Lancelot and Arria were there, of course, as well as Gawain and Bors. Aedan, Captain of the King's Riders was present, along with Jols, Avery, Gildred, and Curran. The other officers of the King's Riders and Knights of the Round were off on various assignments throughout the land. Gildred gave me a look of sheer boredom, and the meeting hadn't even begun.
"Good morning, everyone. We are glad to be back home, after a month's work in Hempshire. The issue of missing stocks of grain was solved, and the men were punished accordingly."
"Took them a month to figure that one out, aye?" Bors grumbled to Gawain, though his voice was not discreet enough.
"Thank you for your input, Sir knight. We, in fact stayed long after the agriculture issue because the Duke made it known that in one of his neighboring lands the peasants were revolting against their lord due to his treatment of them. That matter was also dealt with."
So began a very long and arduous meeting of reports from the various lands in Briton. I desperately tried to pay attention, but often looked over at the amusing Knights as they, too, were falling asleep.
"Curran!" Arthur yelled, waking him up with a fright. Curran sheepishly bowed his head as his cheeks burned a flaming red. "Well, I can see there's nothing else important to discuss. Meeting adjourned." Many of the men in the room cracked their backs and sighed with relief. I watched as Arria shook her husband awake.
"Perhaps tonight we can talk in private, Lucan" Arthur said to me with seriousness.
"Of course."
As the king left and the others began filing out of the room, Gildred and Curran approached. "Fine way to start the day…a nice long nap" Gildred exclaimed.
Curran, who was five seasons my younger, stretched out his arms. "Did you see the look on my father's face when Arthur yelled at me? I'll be hearing that later…" Avery, lieutenant of the King's Riders, was Curran's father.
Gildred ignored him and rubbed his eyes. "Time for a ride. Anyone interested?"
Curran sighed and shook his head. "Can't, mate. Father told me to help mother with the cow today. The calf's supposed to be born any minute."
"Oh, so your sister's free then? Maybe I'll stop by…been meaning to pay her a visit…" Gildred devilishly grinned and ducked as Curran tried a swing at him. Curran's sister Deirdre was one of the prettiest girls in Camelot, and was swooned over by many lads. But, as Curran exclaimed, she had a fiery temper and would have none of it from potential suitors. The last boy that came to call went home with a black eye. I tried to steer clear of her, mainly because Curran wouldn't let his friends near her, knowing their intentions.
"Let's go, Gildred. I could use a good ride." We left our friend and made our way to the stables, where we tacked and bridled our horses.
"Curran's got to realize one day that one of us is going to marry Deirdre, and make babies with her."
I scoffed. "And you think you can woe her?"
"And why not? I'm more handsome than you'll ever be." He lightly slapped my cheek and I strung my arm around his neck as he laughed. Gildred was indeed a charmer; not yet two and twenty and already he had slept with almost every girl in the village. His father was Sir Bors of Archenridge, father of twelve children. Gildred, or Gilly as his father still called him, was the third oldest. I suppose he could be considered handsome, otherwise why would he gain such a reputation as a ladies' man?
"And so, good prince, where shall we wreak havoc on today?"
"The sea."
He rolled his eyes and mounted up. "Port Cumlain? Again? You got a girl there or something?"
I mounted my brown mare and rubbed her neck. "A new trade ship should be arriving any day now. Merchants from Gaul." Indeed, I loved going to the seaport on the western coast. Every time Arthur took me there when I was young, an exhilaration would take hold of me. Seeing all the foreign items and hearing different colored men speaking strange languages was enthralling. Once I had the fortune of practicing strange combat techniques using only my hands as weapons with a man who was much shorter than me and yellow skinned. There was always some new piece of information to be gained of the outside world; of the Hun conquering and the failings of the Roman Empire.
We arrived a few hours later, our bottoms sore and our stomachs screaming to be fed. The seaport market was bustling with activity, and we wasted no time in finding some type of new food to try.
"You were right," Gildred exclaimed between mouthfuls. "The new ship did arrive." He pointed to the northeast and sure enough, a long ship was pulling into the docks, its flags the colors of Gaul. "Perhaps I'll get a new cloak."
I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. Gildred was the type to get new outfits, swords, and brooches every week. He relished looking in the mirror.
We approached the deck just as the plank was put forth to carry out the goods. Gildred and I were wearing simple tunics and trousers, blending into the crowd. No one knew of our nobility, and we liked it that way.
A crowd was gathering to inspect the new goods, but something immediately caught my eye.
Several men and women of pale complexions were being walked off the ship, their hands in chains. They were Irish, the people Arthur currently was trying to make peace with. My stomach lurched and my hands made fists at the thought of it. Slaves were outlawed under Arthur's decree. All traders new this, yet it somehow continued to take place. One of the local guards let them pass without much of a thought.
"Isn't it illegal to auction slaves here?" I asked the guard, and he whipped around to face me. He spit on the ground beside me, and looked rather bored with my comment.
"Mind your own business, boy" he growled, and pushed me away. Even though I myself was four and twenty years of age, many people including Gildred said I looked younger.
Gildred immediately burst in front of me, but I held him back with my arm. Instead I decided to go see the merchant himself, as a podium was being made to auction them off. A larger crowd was gathering, some eager to look at the slaves.
Among them were two boys my age, an old man, a man of middle age, an older woman who looked to be beyond childbearing years, and a young girl of about sixteen. It was her that caught my eye. Her eyes blazed with defiance toward the nearest guard. Her hair was frazzled, due to the long journey, but still a gorgeous auburn color. Her face would have been considered rather plain to most men, but her eyes were a rare emerald green. She was short, but I bet just as powerful as a man. Dirt covered her tunic, and she looked beyond the faces of the crowd, towards the sea. Our eyes met, just for a second, but she turned away in disgust.
"I'll take twenty for the girl!" Someone shouted. The auction hadn't even started yet.
"She's ripe for the picking! I'll take her for thirty!" Someone else yelled. I could see this was going to take some time, and I leaned in close to Gildred's ear.
"We have to stop this."
He gave me a look as if I was crazy. "I know you have good intentions, mate, but we're just two people. And we won't exactly be treated as royalty from this mob…"
I shook my head, my eyes blazing with fury. He was right, of course. Even if we did reveal ourselves, no one would believe us. These people were anxious to buy, though it was illegal. Another alternative would have to be used.
"Sixty for the pair of boys!" A man near me shouted.
An idea struck me. "I'll take three hundred for the lot of them!" I exclaimed, raising my hand. Gildred widened his eyes.
"Your crazy, Lucan! You didn't bring enough for this! I'm sure their owners will treat them well, let's just forget about it…"
Suddenly the girl who I thought was bound leapt at the nearest guard, her hands free as she took his knife. She kicked him where it hurt and held out the knife towards anyone that came near.
One of the boys started screaming at her in their own tongue. Sorcha, Curran's mother who was Irish herself, had taught most of us their language, but only a small amount. 'No!' he was crying, 'Stop sister! They'll hurt you!'
She looked out at the crowd, anticipating someone to attack. "They will hurt me anyways! I will not let their filthy hands touch me!" she cried in Gaelic, her hands shaking with fright.
I had my sword unsheathed, waiting to see what would happen next. The guard went up to the boy behind her and held a knife to his throat. "Drop the weapon, whore!" he yelled. She gasped with shock, as the other slaves tried desperately to help. By now the crowd was pushing and shoving, and it was impossible to get by. We were wedged in the middle, with nothing to do but watch.
"Stop!" I cried "I'm the Prince of Britain!" But my voice was drowned against a sea of shouts from the crowd, some calling for his release, others calling for her death.
"Drop it or I will kill him!" The guard yelled again, his eyes staring at her fiercely. She seemed to understand him, and one small tear trickled down her cheek.
She looked at the boy, who was struggling and crying at her to save herself. Back to the crowd she faced, and our eyes met once more, hers vacant. "I will not be a slave!" she whispered, but I could make out what she had mouthed.
Gildred looked at me, and back at her. My mouth opened and my eyes widened as she plunged the dagger into her gut, blood pouring out of her. The other slaves screamed with terror and hell broke out among the crowd. Gildred and I were being pushed forward along with the rest of the crowd, my breath quickening.
The girl, with the fiery red hair, fell to the ground, life escaping her body. Her head was facing the crowd, and I stared at her, her eyes wide open.
"I'll kill you!" The boy cried to the guard, lunging at him. The other slaves did likewise. It took ten men to hold them off, their cries of revenge echoing across the port. Gildred and I were still pinned against the crowd, all trying to look to see what would happen next.
In the next few minutes, it was over. All the slaves were killed, the merchant ordering it, knowing they would never be compliant. As the crowd dispersed, I fell to my knees, tears coming to my eyes at the horror I had witnessed. Gildred stood beside me, his face stone cold, his body frozen. Neither of us had ever witnessed the killings of people before. We had never taken part in the raids against the Saxons and the Irish. The bodies were quickly taken away, and peasants began washing away the blood that stained the deck.
Words would not come to me. I did nothing to prevent this. I did nothing to stop that girl, or stop the guards. I was helpless. The men continued to load out boxes and barrels into the port, as if nothing had happened.
I overheard one of the men passing us. "Such a waste. That pretty girl would have amused me greatly…" he stated to his friend, who nodded. I got up to do something, but Gildred stopped me. He looked me in the eye, seeing the pain rise within.
"Get the horses, Gildred. Tie them up by this post." he obeyed without a word. I knew that by the time I got to Arthur, the merchant would be gone, and the trade would occur another day. It was getting late, and the sun was setting over the sea in front of us. Villagers were returning to their homes, and artisans were closing up shops.
The merchant, who had decided to get a drink at the local bar, was returning to his ship. His men were waiting aboard, and he reached the plank.
"Excuse me!" Gildred called, and the middle aged man turned to face us. His left cheek was scarred, and his eyes bore an evil that no words could describe. He was no ordinary merchant. You could see by his features that he was a mercenary turned merchant, who caught slaves himself through violence.
"I do not know if you are aware of this, but murder and slave trade are illegal in Britain" I stated, keeping my tone flat so as not to draw attention.
"Are you one of them reformers? One of them Arthur patriots? Let me give you a piece of advice, my young friend….Arthur doesn't own this port. I do. I make a good living off these slaves, so ye best keep yer trap shut, or I'll have someone do it for ye!"
I scoffed at his shallow words. "If I was to tell you I was Lucan, Prince of Britain, what would you do?"
He guffawed and looked me over. "A right funny one you are. Well, my prince, I'd probably kill ye. Can't go whisking off to the king about this incident. But your no prince. Your just a sorry bastard child that still needs to grow up and learn what the real world is like!"
An anger so great rose within my body, wanting to burst out. I snapped, unsheathed my sword and thrust it into his chest, Gildred doing likewise. The men aboard the ship had seen, and instantly shouted the alarm. I picked him up and dragged him to the edge of the dock, both Gildred and I tossing him into the water.
"Time to go!" Gildred called, untying the horses near us. As the guards closed in we cantered out of the port, into the hills and beyond. For hours we rode straight through, not sure if we were followed. The sky was black when we were near Camelot, and I slowed down. By the lake I dismounted and paced, Gildred behind me.
I rubbed my hand against my forehead, pacing back and forth. I had just killed in cold blood. I had murdered someone out of revenge. A new pain was forming in my throat. I screamed out unto the water, my voice echoing. I began to throw rock after rock, until I tripped and fell, all the food I had eaten earlier spilling out of me. Gildred watched from behind, unsure of how to react. I dug my hands into the dirt, my head touching the ground.
I was in a rage. I was angry with the merchant for hurting the innocent, angry at the girl for taking her life, angry at myself for doing nothing, angry at myself for killing in cold blood. Angry that I relished it. This was not what a Prince does. This is not what Arthur told me to do. This was not who I wanted to be. I was a monster, no longer innocent to the ways of the world. It was my first step toward becoming a leader, and I hated it. I am Lucan, prince of Britain, and I will forever face the demons of that day.