[A/N: Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!]
Chapter 2 [Camlann]
Hundreds of miles to the north, a grey overcast obscured Sol's light. An early chill billowed through the craggy gauntlet and into the box canyon. Crows and pickpockets eyed the deceased knights and other soldiers for their armor, weapons and other valuables.
For that reason, the surviving knights desperately sought to account for all royal and the highest ranking nobles. Out of due respect and the kingdoms in question's security, possessions and especially royal seals had to be in hand. Continuity had to remain in play.
Alas for that reason, Hope and Pride both lay strewn across the battlefield. A generation seemingly gone due to Morgana's vengeance.
More so than most thought…..
Galahad frowned deeply at the carnage. Despite his station, he allowed his emotions to play publically across his face. He'd already spent a few tears on his close friends and allies from near and far. Now he slumped against the craggy granite wall and rubbed his forehead in consternation. What will I say to the King and Princess? The kingdom's already in enough chaos! He glanced out toward the outer ring of the camp….
…toward the area where the knights had recently finished burying the poorer soldiers and hangers on….
…toward the wagon off to the left of that waiting for word to depart. That same wagon carrying Sir Simon and the unfortunate Prince Kay now wrapped in linen and awaiting burial in their families' respective crypts….
What will we do? Our prince was the only male heir. Princess Mithian will never marry, it seems! Galahad rolled his eyes. Calm yourself! If those manure heads on the council would only accept her, she has shown clear aptitude. She certainly survived the witch's torment well enough! If only King Arthur had honored his promise! A flash of anger burned at him. As if the servant girl was a better match than Princess Mithian? His eyes narrowed. He clutched his sword's hilt tightly while recalling the collective indignation felt by the Nemethian delegation at that point….
…an indignation assuaged by Arthur's servant, Merlin, who despite his friendship with his King and future Queen, made them all feel welcome. Granted as a servant, it was his job to make them feel at home. Still Merlin seemed to go overboard for them at that point….
…and that wasn't counting the stories he heard concerning Odin and Morgana's takeover….
The boy protected his king, King Rodor and the Princess? He did what they said he did? That thought induced a head scratching session. How would a mere servant be able to do that? A knight would be hard pressed to run a league or more, then deal with guards, survive the witch's attack and lead them all to safety? Still the Camelot knights insist he did. Sir Percival and Sir Gawain are good men after all.
"Sir Galahad?"
Galahad stirred from his reverie to see a knight with an Iberian complexion approaching him. "Sir Rodrigo, what news?"
Rodrigo bowed his head in due reverence to his commander. "We are ready to depart. The other kingdoms' forces have already left."
"Any word on Arthur of Camelot?" Galahad queried.
"None. The knights report that an old man took him from the battlefield. None have seen either of them since. Pardon me for being so irreverent in suggesting this, Sir Galahad. Perhaps we should worry about the report to King Rodor and Princess Mithian? The Prince was the heir apparent. Sir Simon was her intended," Rodrigo reported.
Galahad nodded. "Indeed. Still I'd worry more about Prince Kay. Sir Simon and the King had an understanding but little more. He was a drunk and cared little for rule save to have the title. The only reason he even fought with us was to impress the King…and that was reluctantly. He would've tired of the Princess unfortunately. Especially with the King being more and more despondent these days, she needs to settle on a husband."
"That is not for us, Sir Galahad. It is unfortunate that the mysterious wizard who turned the battle will not step forward. Perhaps he might be a worthy successor to Rodor?" Rodrigo proposed.
Galahad coughed sarcastically. "The nobles would never accept a wizard on the throne. Too many of them remember Uther of Camelot's laws and customs. I fear with no options left, we may have a civil war on our hands. Perhaps that is what the witch wanted."
"Meleagant of Cawdor still desires the Princess. His men made aspersions to that effect," Rodrigo replied with a troubled tone. "He'll know the King's desperation and will play off of it."
"I fear you may be right." Galahad sucked in a heavy breath. "If only Sir Ywain and the lion were here…."
Rodrigo shrugged. "Alas…if only Britomart had remained in Whitgate, they would be so. However they are all heading toward Camelot. We have to prepare the King for the news. Are you certain sending word about Simon was the right course?"
"King Rodor needs to know so that plans might be redirected diplomatically. Come though. The Prince must be seen to his final rest." Galahad straightened himself up. "So the tents aclimbnd supplies are stowed? We are ready to move out?"
"As I said earlier, Sir Galahad, we are ready at your word," Rodrigo reiterated patiently.
"Then it is given. Thank you, my Friend." He clapped the other man on the left shoulder warmly. Then he mounted his horse. "MOUNT UP! WE RIDE!"
Within minutes, the other knights had climbed onto their mounts as well.
Galahad urged his steed forward and away from the deadly ravine. He'd had his fill of Death's spore to say the least. Along with the other knights, he longed for the familiar sights and sounds of Nemeth…even if the insecurity awaited them there.
And that wasn't counting what would be looming ahead.
Not counting it at all….
