Chapter 2: Court of Discontent
"A legend is sung of when England was young and knights were brave and bold.
The good king had died and no one could decide who was rightful heir to the throne."
(From Disney's 1963 film The Sword in the Stone)
The kings gather to celebrate "their" victory and Merlin puts them in their place.
Wingedkatt gets the "Gold Star" because Sir Ector did indeed call the young Arthur by the name Wart in Disney's The Sword in the Stone.
489
The High Court of the Seven Houses had gathered for a feast to celebrate the army's victory over the invaders. The joyous news had been carried by a courier, who brought the glad tiding to the rulers of the land and they gathered at the large hillfort's mead hall. At the great table, which towered above that of all the other nobles, there were grand chairs for each of the seven kings and all were occupied by their respective lords, all save for three. The chair of the House of Arth had remained empty since the death of King Uther, his brother Sir Ector had sat in a smaller chair beside it as befitting that house's Royal Steward and after his death, his son Sir Cai. But the stouthearted bear had been dispatched to the far north as an emissary of peace and so the chair sat empty tonight. Also vacant was the chair of the House of Blaidd, for King Maelgwn was with his wolf warriors upon the field of battle.
The last chair was rarely occupied and it belonged to the dwellers of the so called Drowned Lands, the House of Foroedd, and they were ruled by the enigmatic Fisher King. However, often the seal lord's duties at court were attended to by a mysterious female otter dubbed the Lady of the Lake.
Even in the flickering of the burning rushes, it was evident that discontent was amongst the minor houses, who cast warily glances over their cups of mead or wine at the kings who sat above them. "They think that this victory is theirs and not Arthur's!" a somewhat drunken hedgehog in a blue linen tunic grumbled to his friend. "They set no chair at the table for good Arthur."
The small weasel glanced around before he answered, "Fie friend, he is in the field with his war band and doth not have the least patience for yon petty kings and their courtly intrigues."
"Still it is said that he is the son of Uther, surely the bears should proclaim him their king?"
"Nay, he is base born and a very bastard. No crown shall touch his forehead."
"Yet if the army proclaims him a king, which of these fools would be brave enough to meet them in battle?"
"Bide thy tongue scoundrel before one of yon kings has it removed from thy head!" the weasel warned the small hedgehog. "There is more afoot then thy prattling, look hence at the House of Llwynog."
"The foxes are still bitter with the House of Cwningen over the execution of Sir Bedivere."
"With their King Maelgwn away, I doth fear they shall seek rightful vengeance."
"Surely those here tonight with the House of Blaidd will keep their king's vassals under control?"
"Verily, their chief is sorely vexed by King Cyflym and the reynards doth chaff for revenge, which yon council has forbade them."
"Sir Bedivere was the eldest and heir. His death...no his murder as I shall proclaim it...was a great loss to us lesser houses and clans. He led Arthur's scouts, in which many of your kin serve. His brother Tristan has not the heart of a warrior, but that of a bard, and will be ill-suited for the chieftainship."
"Aye and if those two houses come to blows tonight, it will nay bode well for yon foxes. Verily, the kings may outlaw their house itself."
"I shudder to think upon such a loss! The foxes may not be as bold in battle as their kin the wolves and have no place within the ranks of the shield wall, but they devious and sly. They are the eyes and ears of our war band and without them, Arthur would be as one blind upon the field of battle."
"Ah…King Lot rises to toast the gathering! Perchance he will recognize Arthur as the author of this grand feast and truly proclaim his victory?"
The large gray bull stood, towering above the other kings. The blood of the ancient aurochs was within him, as his huge horns attested. They protruded outwards from each side of his head and were elaborately decorated with bands of gold and silver. His silken tunic was royal red with green stripes, although he wore a woolen blanket like a poncho to warm himself from the evening's chill. A large battle ax was laid upon the table before him as a reminder that he was once a great warrior. But age had grown upon him and it slowed him enough so that he no longer ventured with his warriors upon the field of battle.
King Lot slammed his massive hoof against the table and called out for silence. "We have won a great victory against the barbarians who have sallied forth against our sacred lands. Our warriors have slain a great many of the enemy and brought honor upon the Seven Houses, for that I salute them!" He raised his wood bowl of wine towards the gathered nobles. "To victory!"
His toast brought grumbles from the gathering, but no one spoke what they thought too loud, that is until a voice called out from the doorway, "A victory brought forth by Arthur!"
The massive bull looked up at the intruder at first in anger, but then it seemed as if the very blood drained from his silver furred speckled snout and he sat down.
"Arthur!" others called out, much to the displeasure of the kings who sat above them. "Artorius Pen Draig" others proclaimed.
"King Aldroen, get your wretched vassal under control!" Lot grumbled as he looked at the goat in the black raven's feather cloak who had swept into the hall. The ram in an imperial purple silk tunic, who also sat the king's table, stared back at the bull with a frown.
"I am not kin to nor vassal of the House of Defaid!" the goat laughed. "Myrddin Emrys is a vassal of no house or king, especially one who kept his warriors at home and did not join the war band upon the field of honor."
"My warriors were needed to guard our flank from the bandits who live in the hills," Aldroen nervously replied. It was quite evident that he was attempting to avoid the goat's gaze. "If they had not been gathering, I would have led my rams to join the army in battle."
"Surely some of the great number of warriors you command could have joined the shield wall?" Merlin challenged. "The bears, bulls, wolves and bucks held the field today. Where were the other houses?"
"Chide us not Merlin!" a tall stately red stag spoke as he stood in his black priestly garb. "We all serve the gods in our own ways."
"I would not speak ill of you good King Guethelin, for your archer bucks were upon the field today and many of those you call savages fell before their arrows. However, I did not see any of the rabbits with their ballista on the field, nor were any of our allies the boars with their long axes present."
"Surely Merlin, you do know that the House of Cwningen suffered greatly by the paws of that rogue An Sionnach and his raiders?"
"For which they still owe thanks to the House of Blaidd or more specifically, the House of Llwynog."
The rabbits and hares called out in protest, as the foxes stood and shouted back in anger. King Cyflym wobbled to stand upon his chair while he fumbled to draw his long dagger like sword.
"Do you wish to bring violence to this peaceful gathering?" the priestly stag challenged Merlin, while he also placed a calming hoof on the hare king's shoulder. "What was done was within the laws of the land, as sanctioned by this council."
"A council which has sat far too long without having a High King."
"Our houses have ruled together since good King Constans was murdered by the upstart Vortigern."
"Votigern who was laid low by Uther and yet you do not recognize his born son Arthur as the true king of the House of Arth!"
"Who sits upon the throne of the House of Arth is up to the bears and their vassals."
"Yet, this council does interfere."
"Arthur is a bastard and not royal born!" King Lot scoffed as he took a gulp from his wine bowl.
"As if your own ancestors were more than just liegemammals of the foreign conquers who ruled these lands? They who finally left you and yours to fend for yourself over a hundred years ago? So as the grandson of those who abased themselves as conquered serfs, tell me what does being royal born truly mean?"
Merlin was interrupted as a messenger entered the hall, the deer in a yellow linen tunic panted as he knelt before King Guethelin. "Arthur sends his greetings and has called for reinforcements, another fleet of the savages has been sighted," the messenger announced. "War is upon us again!"
Present Day
The red fox sat up in the bed with a groan while he looked around the dark room, everything was as it should be and he felt the vixen's tail shift off of him and curl along her sleeping body. He reached a paw over and gently stroked the reddish orange fur on her thigh. She mumbled something and rolled onto her stomach, reaching for the blanket that he had discarded earlier when he had sat up panting from the overwhelming feeling of fear he felt in his dream. Nicolaus had been plagued by bad dreams since the villagers found him wandering in the hills.
He had no memory of who he was or how he got there, but they took him back to their homes and accepted him into their lives. Tonight these dreams had changed, he now remembered enchanting purple colored eyes looking lovingly up at him. His heart was stirred at the sight of them, but he knew of no vixens with such colored eyes. His fiancée Marie's eyes were brown, natural brown like the earth they farmed. She was a farmer's daughter, a carrot farmer…no... they grow cabbage and wheat…not carrots. Carrots? Why did that sound familiar?
The pleasant dream he had earlier quickly changed back to his familiar nightmare, that of a huge white paw shoving his head under icy water until he began to drown, then the fiery explosion, and finally the thin dashing hare in the black suit. Nicolaus slowly crawled out of the bed and softly padded his way through the dark cottage. Slowly, so as to keep it from creaking, he opened the door and stepped out into the garden. A waxing moon illuminated the land around him, the shadowy hills and the glistening distant sea beyond. Below the farm was the village, the cottages were now dark as the villagers, his friends, slumbered.
This was paradise to him, not the bright lights of that other place. Why did he dream of that city, the one the sailors called Zootopia? He went online at the village library and looked at photos of that place, all so familiar in some ways and different in others. He felt what he saw was wrong, all those pictures of different species happily mingling together, prey with predator. Somehow he knew that was wrong, prey feared predator…wait! Where did that come from? He shook his head as he remembered small sheep ewe's sarcastic voice saying that to them from above as he stalked someone in in a pit. A pit? When was he in a pit?
The fox gave a soft whine at the memories, because he felt deep in his soul that they were not…could not... be his.
"Nicolaus?" a feminine voice called out. He turned to see Maria standing in the cottage doorway, the vixen was wrapped in the blanket. She was a vision of loveliness and he cared for her deeply. His ears flattened as he remembered those dream eyes, the purple ones, and he felt as if he had cheated on his fiancée in his dreams.
"I'm fine sweetheart, I just needed some night air," he replied with a smile.
"So you walk around naked in the garden?" she giggled. "Come inside before someone sees you!"
He began to walk towards her, but paused to glance up at the moon again. Why did this not seem right?
As I explained in the last chapter, the Seven Houses are modeled on the seven minor Pictish kingdoms of what became Scotland and also the seven petty Anglo-Saxon kingdoms which later became England. I am aware the George R. R. Martin has seven Houses or kingdoms in his Game of Thrones series. However, am not a big fan of his works as he just kept killing off every character I liked in the first two books and so I stopped reading his works (I also do get HBO). A few of my favorite stories are Bernard Cromwell's Saxon Tales series and Mary Stewart's Merlin Trilogy.
The seven Families or petty kings in my story are as follows:
House of Arth – House of Bears with no current king since Uther was killed. Sir Cai (Kay) is the house's royal steward or regent.
House of Blaidd - House of Wolf with King Maelgwn ruling. The House of Llwynog or House of Fox is a minor house loyal to King Maelgwn.
House of Cwningen – House of Rabbit with King Cyflym as ruler. Many of the small mammals owe their allegiance to this house.
House of Foroedd – House of Seas with a seal known at the Fisher King ruling. He is often represented by his regent, a female otter called the Lady of the Lake.
House of Defaid – House of Sheep ruled by the devious King Aldroen. The goats are also vassals of his house.
House of Carw – House of Deer with the priestly King Guethelin upon its throne.
House of Tarw - House of Bull ruled by the once powerful King Lot.
There are some mammals, such as bats and some sea mammals, which do not belong to a royal house. The boars are invaders who were invited by king Votigern as mercenaries. Arthur and the army of the Seven Houses defeated them in previous battles, although they did not have the power to drive them off the land they had occupied along the coast. The boars are based on the Saxons who battled the British during this time in human history.
Yep, the "other" Nick Wilde from my first story is back!