"Highlander"
Chap. 02: They.
Highlander.
Whispers in the Court brought rejection and fear as the eyes of the many knights and their families posed over the gigantic frame of the newcomer.
Highlander.
It was a so common occurrence that it was starting to feel insulting, as if those men around him not only didn't chastise their families for being so rude in front of him, but even encouraging a segregationist behavior.
Look at him; he looks a bit… off.
And again.
Look at his hair, he's balding. How old is he anyway?
Their eyes.
Have you noticed those nails of his? It's disgusting!
Filled with judgmental prejudices.
What's wrong with his eyes?
What in the blazes was wrong with them?
It's not a big surprise he's not married yet.
Why they felt compelled to criticizing someone they even didn't know?
Rumor said he's still allowing paganism in his lands.
Just… stop.
He's a degenerate.
Enough!
Reaching a place in a shadowy corner, he sat, goblet full of wine in hand, on a chair, looking at them with venomous eyes until he noticed the small child playing with a wooden horse in his hand beside him.
- Out of my sight, you little critter. – he spat with no little amount of contempt – Now.
The kid ran away crying right to his mother's skirts, gaining a frown from the woman who looked in Ruber's direction outraged as the amused Red Knight raised his goblet mockingly.
He had been the first to arrive at Camelot as the signaled date of the Round Table knights' annual meeting came closer, so he had had plenty of time to be an honored guest in Arthur's castle.
And the due scrutiny he suffered on a daily basis by the rest of the Court as the knights were arriving one by one was driving him nuts.
But just like he looked at Arthur's people and only saw enemies everywhere, through their eyes he was a stranger among them as well.
For they saw the physical effect the harsh climate and many other factors in the High Lands had done to Ruber.
He looked older, with thin lines woven across his skin in the brow and lips giving him a permanent frown accompanied with an unsmiling gesture.
His once glorious mane of bright red hair had greatly diminished; his physique had been developed through hard, repetitive exercise in timeless hours of utter boredom into a bulky, broad-shouldered mass of muscles.
And a scandalous lack… or thereof pure neglectiness of his personal appearance had led him to exhibit long broken fingernails he, together with his sharp teeth, utilized to tear roasted pork and beef without using any cutlery, nor napkins, while he ate like some unmannered, wild animal.
Overall with his evident lack of sleep sporting almost black eye bags as if he had been punched, bloodied eyes and casual muscular tics in both his eyes and mouth… his appearance didn't invite to even a courtesy greeting.
And he was getting more and more anxious as the days passed and nobody had the decency to make casual conversation with him.
Not even Arthur had spoken to him, showing an outrageous rudeness towards his guest by leaving him on his own, properly tended by the servants, yes, but utterly alone.
And that situation didn't change even in the slightest until the meeting day arrived along with the last of the invited guests: Sir Lionel.
In the eve of winter everybody was so… disgustingly happy…
They even sang. Oh, Ruber hated their frequent stupid sing-alongs…
"United we stand,
now and forever
in truth, divided we fall."
Truth? – Ruber thought – There's not absolute truth, you fools. But you prefer to pledge yourselves to your own interpretations of said truth.
"Hand upon hand,
brother to brother,
no one shall be greater than all."
Don't make me laugh…
"It's been ten years we celebrate
all that made our kingdom great,
liberty and Justice for all."
Yeah, "for all", sure.
"Each of us will now divide
in equal shares our countryside,
promising equality for all who reside!"
Wait, what?!
Once in the Round Table Chamber, Ruber clenched both his teeth and fists, hating how everybody was so optimistic about the prospects of new lands… but he, being the one that controlled bigger territory, wasn't so happy about the news.
Once in front of the big table, every man left his weapons in their respective chair's backrest… every man but Ruber, who always had an extra hidden weapon just in case. Not for nothing, his had been always a strictly business-like relationship with Arthur, so neither loyalty nor trust was in the Red Knight's agenda.
Then the fools started with their charade raising their shields and putting them in front of themselves over the table.
- Liberty! – exclaimed one.
- Justice! – another followed.
Liberty to ignore me, one of you, supposedly. Justice only for the meek.
- Trust!
- Freedom!
Trust in a utopia, freedom to bask yourselves in your makeshift lie.
- Peace!
- Honor!
Peace among the Christian believers, honor thy false God.
- Goodness!
- Strength!
- Valor! – sat beside Arthur, the loyal and immaculate Sir Lionel proclaimed his devotion and love for his kingdom.
Ruber's blood boiled.
- ME! – he screamed at the top of his lungs, planting his shield in front of him with violence, his inner self spitting over "compassion", the word he had just chosen to ignore.
For no compassion but bitterness filled his soul. Bitterness born amidst depression and loneliness these last few years.
Every man present looked at him frowning, clearly outraged for his impertinence.
And his inner self gloated greatly.
Feel that, you fools. Feel what is like to trample over your beliefs.
- Charming sing-along. – he hissed, like a snake would – Now… I would prefer to leave unnecessary pleasantries aside and get straight to business. Did I hear something about redefining the borders of our territory? How is that I was not informed of this?
- Sir Ruber… - Arthur spoke shaking his head from side to side, sighing – Always thinking of thyself.
Oh, now you address me, you little bitch.
Followed by the King's words, a chorus of recriminations followed.
- When we declared our unity… - continued Arthur, ignoring the daggers the huge red-haired man was directing at him through his eyes - … we accorded to divide the land according to each person's needs. As knights of the Round Table our obligations art to our people, not to ourselves.
- Haven't we served you loyally? – Ruber spat, leaning himself over the table, piercing Arthur's skull with his green reptilian eyes – Haven't I served and supported you unquestionably?
Haven't my people and I endured enough questioning glances and isolation?!
- The King has decided! – exclaimed Sir Lionel, hitting over the table with his bare fist.
Ruber couldn't believe it. Even Lionel, the only knight who had always treated him like an actual person, now was treating him like some… some…
Feeling all the eyes over him at that very moment, some judging him, others agreeing with his point of view but too coward to spoke it aloud, paranoia filled Ruber's brain.
They didn't know… they didn't know what was like to be in his shoes…
- Perhaps a King who fails to reward his best knights shouldn't hold such a title…
The thought, quick as it had escaped his lips, filled the room with sudden silence. And Ruber suddenly became aware that his sentiment was shared at least by half of the men present there. That gave him reassurance.
- Would you make yourself a traitor? – asked Lionel, his amberish eyes filled with something close to anger. Now they were discussing the root of the problem here.
- A traitor? – repeated Ruber – There would not be treason were Arthur no King. – and then, he rose from his seat, this time directing his words towards everyone – Maybe now is time for a new King to govern us and who'll gladly reward the deserving. – oh, he could see it now, many interested eyes now were over him – And I vote for me.
Maybe they could reach an agreement, maybe…
- I will not serve a false King. - Lionel snarled.
After those words, something inside Ruber detonated.
Something cold and dark, just like the winters he had spent leaving his soul die within the stone walls of his castle.
- Then serve… - the Red Knight said dangerously slow, reaching for his trusted mace under the table - … A DEAD ONE! – he shouted before leaping over the table and charging blindly against anything that were between Arthur and the spikes of his mace.
Lionel met his charge halfway the table… and also met the brute strength of the fiery northern man that first crushed his left arm, a second later his windpipe, sending him several meters backwards like a dummy.
The rest of the brave men who jumped to defend their King were swiftly dispatched, even with the chainmail, breastplates and helmets covering their bodies. Ruber was relentless, his gaze filled with rage, having gone completely berserker just like in his good old days.
But when Arthur managed to retrieve his sword, Excalibur, from the sheath resting in his chair's backrest, he counterattacked the Red Knight's fury, whose mace met Excalibur's blade in a blast that, given the magic embedded in the weapon, sent Ruber flying across the room.
The highlander landed, rolling. Quickly he got up holding his right arm that, at that very moment, was rendered useless after the magical energies had charred its skin, melting the nails in the process.
He stumbled a bit before running towards the exit door.
- One day that sword will be in my hand! – he shouted before closing the thick wooden gates after him, blocking them with the first heavy furniture that rested outside the Round Table Chamber and happened to be on his way outside, buying himself some time before the whole Court were at his heels – And the whole kingdom will belong to me!
After those words, he had fled for his life, breaking in a wild cavalcade from Camelot's stables to lose himself into the cold wilderness.
And he lived to regret the due following consequences.
He lived to tell.
The memories after the incident were sometimes blurred and confusing, because his mind had wanted so desperately to erase them that now he relived them often shrouded in a surreal fog, as in a nightmare.
A nightmare from which he couldn't wake up.
Ruber could tell that he had ridden for days, not taking a single moment of rest, falling off and on several times unconscious for mere seconds on his horse's rump until the snowy climate of the High Lands, his home, welcomed him.
He remembered reaching the castle, leaving the exhausted beast, foam overflowing its snout, falling dead behind and entering inside like thunder to just presenting himself in front of his mother and immediately collapsing on the floor.
He woke up a few days after with the severe green eyes of his old lady upon him, as if waiting for something.
But what he didn't remember so well were the tears that had emerged from his eyes as he took the old lady's hand in his like some lost child.
- I failed… - he had murmured – I failed all of you, mother. And now, we are doomed: Arthur will not take lightly this betrayal and, if I know him well, he likely will invade our lands!
- I know, my son, I know. – the lady said, putting some strands of wild hair behind his ear; looking at him and, instead of seeing the big man he was, she saw a frightened little child who had done something terribly bad – You tried… but the power of the Lady of the Lake's magic sword could not be matched, not even by your innate strength. – and taking his face between her hands, she added – Now you must prepare yourself and your people, for a battle is coming from the South to our very doorstep. Defend what is yours.
And the said battle came a few weeks later.
Widely equipped and taking advantage of the mountain range that surrounded his castle, Ruber and his people resisted Arthur's invasion for a hundred days and ninety-nine nights… because at the hundredth night Sir Lanval, having been present when Ruber had reclaimed his lands many years ago, advised Arthur about a weak spot in the mountain range, where they could pass to reach the castle's dungeons.
Arthur followed his advice and soon, he and a handful of his most trusted knights found themselves inside the very castle they wanted to take.
Once inside, it wasn't really complicated to dismantle Ruber's defenses.
However, during their assault, a madwoman got in the middle wielding a spear and sporting deaf ears to the threats and warning words Arthur's men gave her.
She didn't last even ten seconds against the much stronger armored men as a solitary arrow pierced her heart, ending swiftly her life.
Ruber had found her a half hour later while trying to evade Arthur by sidetracking him and his damned magic sword, searching desperately for her and their mother in order to keep them safe.
Incredulous, the Red Knight had knelt before his sister's corpse closing her dead terrified green eyes, drying her cold tears and putting her wild strands of bright red hair behind her ears.
- A man can tell a thousand lies. – a grave voice reached his ears from behind while a pale-as-a-corpse feminine hand reached his armored shoulder – Like saying that no woman, child or elder would be harmed by his hand during a siege. – she said sadly, kneeling beside her son and caressing lightly her daughter's cold cheek – There's no honor, nor mercy in this King's soul. He's only a man. A cruel man, just like his father was.
- I've learned my lesson well, mother. – Ruber said, taking his sister's corpse in his arms, wrapping her carefully in his cape as if she were a baby – Come with me. At least I will not leave you alone just as I left her. I've been careless, so careless…
- No. – the lady said with a tone so firm that gave Ruber some pause – I will not allow my last remaining son to throw himself to his death. – once this had been said, an unnatural bright greenish glow lightened her eyes and the veined ramifications of the left side of her face – Go. – she spoke with metallic voice, clearly under the dark influence of her own powers – Escape from the castle by the cliffside, reach our ancestors' necropolis by the Northwest and give your sister the burial she deserves. Honor her in death as you did in life. – and then she rose, rejuvenated, more powerful and terrifying than the man had even seen her – I will contain them as long as my body could take it. That will give you some advantage before they realized you've fled.
- No! – Ruber exclaimed – I will not leave you alone to deal with those monsters! You are the only family I have!
- Then live. – she said, turning her back to him – Live to prevent your bloodline to extinguish like a blaze in a wasted candle. Live to tell what you have learned. 'Till then, gather the means, grow stronger and avenge us. Avenge your flesh and blood, my son.
And with those words, she disappeared in thin air, leaving a suddenly alone Ruber to quickly react and start running with the weight of his sister over his shoulder.
However, once in the distance, Ruber spotted in the castle's courtyard the sinister arcane light of his mother shining brightly, blinding all the present men around her.
- A witch! – Arthur exclaimed – Regroup thyselves!
Snowy long curly hair mixed in the frozen air with few carmine threads rose like some lion's mane from her head.
- MERLIN! – she screamed, raising her hand full of electricity to the air before releasing a powerful expansive wave that propelled Arthur and his men backwards like dummies, hitting them against the castle walls – COME OUT AND FACE ME!
Suddenly, amidst the frozen stones, the ashes of the battle and the bodies of the fallen, a hooded figure emerged.
- Morgause. – the old druid addressed her, bowing slightly his head in respectful acknowledgment – I see you have not changed your belligerent ways all these years in the shadow.
- That very shadow you yourself helped to grow, traitor! – the woman shouted, stony floors and walls around her cracking slightly as her powers grew – You have allied with the Christian God and his followers against us! You have betrayed your own kin!
- Our kin is fated to extinction, Morgause. – Merlin answered – Nothing lasts forever and a new Era, the Christian Era, is about to swallow the Old Ways. But you and the rest of our kin have not accepted it, your will is to reign 'till the End of Times and that is against the laws of nature.
- What would you know about nature's laws?! – she cried again before, suddenly, calming herself – But I see, there's not avail trying to put some reason on you. I suppose instead I will have to use… FORCE!
So she did. Combining her powers along with her great hatred, Morgause sent a wave of electricity against the old wizard who counterattacked with yet another wave of light.
They struggled for some time, no clear winner in a battle so vicious that no mortal could have reached them at that very instant without being calcined in a blink of an eye.
But Arthur Pendragon was no mere mortal.
Excalibur in hand protecting him from being burned alive, the King had crawled silently to the witch's back and, making an inhuman effort to raise himself amidst so many arcane energies together, he ultimately stabbed the woman on the back, traversing her from the spine to the sternum itself.
And the magic inside the mythic artifact did its work.
A heartbreaking scream of surprise and denial left Morgause's lips when she started to being consumed from inside to outside as her skin and muscles turned into ashes leaving a charred skeleton which quickly disintegrated into a pile of dust that flied with the first wind blow.
A victorious war cry rose from the throats of every man who had stood for Camelot and the losers rapidly dispersed themselves, escaping from sure death by betrayal they knew the King would dispense them.
But only one man remained hidden, gazing in the distance at Pendragon as his men hailed him, green eyes full of pain and hatred vowing to, one day, wipe that smile from his dead, rotten lips.
For he would have his revenge in this life, or in the next.
One way… or another.
Knelt in front of Rowena's tombstone, Ruber of the High Lands directed his anguished thoughts to his gods.
Hadn't he served them faithfully? Hadn't he preserved the Old Ways for his people?
Why fate was punishing him so harshly?
As the hours passed, darkness fell over the cold land and silence followed.
But Ruber, still knelt before his sister's tombstone, opened his eyes and observed, fascinated, how a bluish, cold fire emerged slowly from the tender earth.
- Sister? – he dared to ask until he extended his hand towards it and the spirit disappeared before he could grasp it.
Then many lights around, lights of torches and lanterns, started to lighter him.
"Do you feel the thorns?
Do you see the tears?
Do you see the bloodshed in this fell war?
Have you forsaken us?
Have you forgotten our faithful men calling your name?
While I stand before you,
while we perish,
while I lay down a crimson rose,
while holding hands are forced apart,
while hopes bog like condemned men…
Were you there?
The sky is falling on me.
As your hand's turning old and weak
I'm giving myself upon to thee
A futile sacrifice gone sere."
Surrounding him, his people, women and elders mostly, left their candles before the tomb and sang while inclining their heads respectfully.
"… why hast thou forsaken me?
Together we go unsung.
Into thy hand, I commend my spirit.
Together we go down with our people!"
Feeling supported by his people, Ruber allowed them to accompany him in his darkest hour until three men stepped in before him.
- My Lord Ruber. – one of them said – I and the remains of our people want to offer you our humble condolences for your loss, for we ourselves have lost much today as well. We pray for our fallen's souls to find the rest they were deprived in life and we offer you our lives.
- Why would you do such a thing? – the Red Knight asked – Our people had been slaughtered by my fault, I brought disgrace and death to us.
- No, my Lord. – an old tattooed woman said approaching him, full of amulets and the due paraphernalia that labeled her as a shaman lady, just as his mother had been – You have been preserving the Old Ways, giving shelter to the exiled, protecting us from this King's poisonous influence. You even tried to defy his will in order to give us a better chance of living. – she shook her head – No, we will follow you, for you had earned the right to guide us. Help us to preserve our culture, our roots! We implore you!
A chorus of voices joined in her plea and Ruber, first looking at them, and then looking at his now permanently scarred hand by Excalibur's influence, knew he was not alone in his wish of revenge.
An entire year had passed trying to gather the dispersed remains of his people through the frozen land and Ruber felt utterly tired.
He had managed to convince not only his former runaway men who had been left alive after the battle but the chiefs of many tribal communities who had been waiting for him, eager to join their forces against Arthur's.
But still… he knew that wasn't enough.
He was now actively pursued by the forces Arthur had left in his territory to ensure he couldn't gather forces again and use his old castle as headquarters, so the Red Knight had been forced to lean in strategy and guerrilla to keep them at bay. Just like when he was sixteen and not a copper to his name.
Everything seemed to start anew… though in worse prospects and conditions.
Given this, his alert state had worsened and his muscular tics were now something frequent on his regular basis. He barely slept a couple of hours, if any, per day.
This constant insomnia had driven him many nights to wander alone in the woodland, seeking something akin to soothing his hyperactive brains.
But one night, he got lost in the darkness of a forest.
He then had started to wander aimlessly until something in the corner of his eye had caught his attention.
A will o' the wisp.
Just like when he had buried his sister.
Knowing by the tales his mother had told him when he was a child that will o' the wisps normally guided someone who was lost to their fate, being this good or bad, Ruber followed.
After all, he had learned that one cannot escape his fate, so it was in his best interest to not ignore the signs.
So he followed the ethereal spirits until the path they had been weaving for him disappeared once he stepped into a cromlech circle.
The moon and stars lightened the old carvings in the stones' surface and Ruber found himself mesmerized, almost having this silly idea that he was in the middle of a very strange dream until he heard the flapping of heavy wings and, as he rose his eyes, he saw something that left him for a moment speechless: the bulky, dark silhouette of an impossible mythical creature, a griffin.
The creature was looking at him intently, fixing its venomous unnatural eyes upon his throat, salivating at the mere idea to tear it off.
But Ruber was not a man to walk away from a crystal clear challenge.
And the beast was challenging his strength.
So he jumped to his fate with a war cry on his lips as the creature plummeted over him.
Author's note: ... okay, given the two reviews I had received for my story, one of them asking me for more, here you go!
I was so happy reading that my fic was well liked for one author whose story here in QfC section I adore, that I started to write more, developing in deep Ruber's background and giving the fact that his mother is a witch more relevance. Here you see many characters intertwined, having their own reasons to feel resentment against one another, not just Ruber.
I've changed slightly the summary and I've posted this and the next chapter together because I had a writer rage (which means I started to write until I felt satisfied) and I want you to enjoy the two chapters as a whole. No need to wait when something is complete, yes?
Enjoy and lemme know about your thoughts ^^
PD: yep, I was listening to Madonna's "Live to tell" and Eluveitie's "A rose for Epona", so their lyrics kinda of found their way into my story hehehehehe ^^