A/N; Thanks to everyone who is reading, following and reviewing.
There is no Merlin or Arthur in this chapter (sorry!) but the events that occur will cause Arthur even more angst!
The knights of Camelot spent many hours practicing on the training field at the front of the castle. Almost every morning of the year the men ran through their paces, perfecting their foot work, familiarising themselves with the weight and balance of their own weapon, learning to predict the likely moves of an opponent and fine tuning their sparring techniques. No man could become a master of the broadsword if he did not commit himself to it's mastery in body, mind and soul.
Training accidents were no rare thing, which is hardly surprising given the vigour, testosterone levels and dangerous weapons that were involved. Usually it was something relatively minor like a pulled muscle, twisted ankle or superficial cut. King Arthur and Sir Leon were stringent about the men wearing their chain mail whilst training, even though it was heavy and uncomfortable. The possibility of injury to a knight without armour was just too high to risk, furthermore, it was bad enough to be wounded in battle, much less during friendly rivalry.
It was a combination of exhaustion and bad luck that almost brought about a horrible accident on that cloudy and cool morning and it would assuredly have been fatal if it hadn't have been for the presence of a youth who possessed some rather special skills.
Adwr, a second cousin of Sir Leon, was a blond headed boy of roughly 14 summers old. As was tradition at that time he had been employed as Sir Leon's squire since he reached his 12th summer. All was going well; he was learning fast and seemed to be making friends amongst the other squires. Adwr was a dedicated worker who did everything asked of him and had earned himself an affectionate place within the circle of knights that Leon was closest to.
Not bad for a child who had not spoken a word in over three years.
Sir Leon had explained when Adwr first arrived that around a year beforehand his family home had been set upon by bandits seeking riches and all his family and their loyal servants were killed in cold blood. It was believed that Adwr had witnessed it all from his hiding place below the floor boards. The shock and horror had been so traumatic for the boy that he had not spoken a word since that time. The relatives that had taken the boy in at the time were convinced he would never recover his full wits but Sir Leon was determined to give him a chance. Perhaps, given time, he would find his voice again some day.
No-one really understood the extent of the grief and guilt Adwr suffered since the day of the attack. The feeling that some, if not all, of his family would have survived if he has been brave enough to use his magic out in the open tormented him and he still punished himself for what he perceived to be his cowardice, everyday. The treatment he'd received at the hands of his Great Uncle (who had taken on guardianship of the boy) only convinced him of his worthlessness even more.
When Sir Leon had agreed to take him in, Adwr was desperately scared that he would fail once again, fortunately though, good fortune had finally smiled upon the boy. Sir Leon was a far more compassionate man than his Great Uncle had been and with the knights unending reassurance and encouragement Adwr began to see that he wasn't as hopeless as he thought. As the years went by, Adwr reached a stage where he felt worthy again and he knew he owed it all to the man who had bothered enough to give him a chance.
It was because of this dedication and affection Adwr felt toward Sir Leon that he deliberately put his own life at risk to save that of the knight.
Training was winding down for the morning and many of the knights had already headed back to the armoury to clean and stow their gear. A few others stood around watching the remaining bouts, talking and laughing jovially.
Gwaine had been late to practice, not an unusual event for the laconic knight, so was still some minutes from being able to call it a day. He and Sir Percival were currently engaged in an intense although friendly rivalry where by each man was trying to prove to themselves (and to the other knights) that they had superior skill with the various weapons used in close combat; sword, mace, flail and dagger. Whilst it was widely acknowledged that Percival was without match when it came to hand to hand combat and that Sir Gwaine was second only to the king in his abilities with a broadsword, neither man had the upper hand when it came to the flail.
The flail was not an often used weapon amongst the Knights of Camelot, except in melees. It consisted of a foot long wooden or metal handle with a short length of chain at one end to which was attached a spiked metal ball or many sided star. Generally, it was bandits, brigands or mercenaries who favoured this vicious piece of equipment as it required significantly less time to perfect its usage compared to the sword, depending more on brute strength and timing.
Gwaine swung his flail in a wide trajectory in an attempt to land a blow around Percival's shield but the large man was able to predict what was coming due to the width of his opponent's stance and the way he shifted all his weight to the right. All it took to nullify the blow was a minor outward movement of his shield.
"I saw that coming Gwaine.! Step it up!" He cajoled, enjoying the look of frustration on Gwaine's face.
Gwaine muttered something about a 'big lump' before he launched his next assault. This time he feigned a blow coming in from the left, hoping to draw Percy's shield aside so that he could strike effectively from the following rightward swing. Alas, Percival was too quick again and his goading of Gwaine was joined in by Sirs Elyan and Pellham from the sidelines.
Tiredness and frustration were catching up with Gwaine by now and after a few more of his carefully thought out strategies failed, he threw caution aside and attacked his opponent recklessly, smashing his weapon into Percival with so much vigour that he pushed him backward toward where Sir Leon was patiently tutoring Sir Mordred. Neither of the later
were wearing helmets as Sir Mordred, much to his mortification, wasn't yet judged skilled enough to use a properly sharpened, fully weighted sword.
Sir Pellham called a warning to Gwaine and Percival regarding the proximity of the two other men but neither heard it above the noise of metal on metal. At this point, none of the people present foresaw any imminent danger so no-one was terribly concerned. Gwaine's movements were becoming less fluid as he grew exhausted and he put all he had left into another attempt to outsmart his opponent. When he felt the jarring of his flail upon Percival's shield yet again he swore loudly then threw his arm up and back before bringing the flail vertically downwards with all his might. Percival ducked to the side evasively but the unfortunate knight who now found himself lying helplessly in the path of the swinging flail had no time for such manoeuvres.
It was nothing more malevolent than a patch of mud that had been Leon's undoing. One moment he was shouting instructions to Mordred, encouraging the young knight to take control of the bout and force his opponent to move in the direction he wanted, then, within a heartbeat he was lying on his back staring up at the gruesome spiked head of the flail coming at full speed toward his face. There was no time for his life to flash before his eyes or to regret that he hadn't done a more thorough check of the ground's surface; the only thought that ran through his mind was that he was, quite probably, about to die!
While Sir Leon desperately willed his muscles to move, his squire, who had been watching very closely from near the sword wrack, felt something shift within himself. Without any conscious attempt the magic he had for so long tried to keep at bay suddenly began to writhe and swirl within him before bursting forth like a torrent of water. Adwr felt everything momentarily spin wildly around him before rapidly coming to a halt, leaving him as the only animated thing in existence. Those more knowledgable about sorcery would have recognised how Adwr had instinctually stopped time, not requiring a spell or even a direct mental command. The next piece of magic the boy did however, was done with deliberation and clear intent.
Acting quickly and without regard to himself, Adwr turned the thrum of his magic to the ground at his feet where a shield lay abandoned in the grass, picking it up and sending it across the turf on a cloud of golden energy. When it was within a horse length of his cousin, Adwr carefully guided the shield with subtle movements of his right hand, so that it was in the correct position to take the full force of Gwaine's flail.
All this happened within the blink of an eye and once Adwr knew Sir Leon was safe, time resumed it's regular rhythm with a nauseous jolt, almost as though his magic had been able to sense his relief. Suddenly it was all noise and movement again; people shouting warnings from either side of him, Gwaine's cry of horror and the crash of the flail into the shield.
The thud that sounded as the shield fell impotently to the ground was the starting signal for the maelstrom that followed.
Audible gasps were intermingled with nervous exclamations about sorcery and evil. People glanced around at each other nervously, not quite knowing what to do next. The loud shout of a peasant who had brought a pail of water over for the knights to drink, drew the crowd's attention to Adwr.
"It was 'im! His eyes were glowing gold I swear!" The toothless man squealed as he pointed a grubby finger toward Adwr.
When he had recovered from the initial shock of escaping death (again), Sir Leon did his utmost to calm the situation, proclaiming his trust in his cousin and arguing that if Adwr had magic he would surely know of it. Lacking any other explanation and adhering to Camelot's strict laws regarding the investigation of any suspected sorcery, Leon had to concede the argument. It was with a mixture of anger, sadness and wonder that he watched two burly guards accompany Adwr to the dungeons.
Leon tossed and turned restlessly all night. Adwr's fate was to be determined in a hearing tomorrow morning in front of the King and other members of the High Council and Leon feared the worst.
He had initially regarded the peasants accusation of magic as ridiculous. The man was obviously extremely poor and perhaps he'd hoped for some sort of reward if he pointed out an 'enemy of the kingdom'. But then again, a metal shield cannot move of it's own accord so witchcraft was the only explanation.
But Adwr? Surely he would have known if one so close to him had magic? Beside that, the lad was virtuous and gentle which was far from what he had been taught to believe about sorcerers. They were all corrupt, evil, power hungry devils weren't they?
Leon's mind whirled with confusion. The truth was, he'd began to doubt such teachings long ago. Never would he forget how the magic imbued vessel known as 'Cup of Life' had been used to safe him from certain demise. Cenred and Morgause had also employed that very same vessel in a much more sinister way with destruction, death and power their ultimate goals. In this case it was the nature of the person (or persons) using the Cup that determined whether the magic it contained was used for good or evil. Carrying on with this logic, perhaps it wasn't the possession of magic that determined a person's goodness or otherwise no more so than their hair colour or town of birth?
Leon did not realise it at the time but it was a series of very similar conundrums that Arthur was wrestling with himself at the moment. The Kings struggles however, were rendered even more complicated and difficult by the nature of the relationship he'd had with his father and his ever longing need for parental approval.
A/N; I hope my OC had enough depth so that you, the wonderful reader, could feel for him!
All opinions and feedback are greatly appreciated!
There is a fic called "Intentions' by Lynse that was posted a few days ago which also has a child accused of magic brought before Arthur. Some similiar themes are covered, albeit in a differnet way and with a totally different plotline. It is definately a good read so far!