Chapter 29: Ugly
Disclaimer: I do not own Arthur or any of the characters in the movie, King Arthur. I am, however, the creator of the majority of the other character in this novel, as well as in its prequel, The Look of Hope.
Arthur was the last through the tunnel, and that was after he had made several sweeps through the last quarter mile to make sure he had not missed anyone in the dark. When he came out for good, he had the way sealed off, and the people kept moving through the forest about another mile. They then happened upon a large clearing in the dense woods and settled there. Many fires were started, and tents that housed three families at a time were pitched from cloths hidden along the tunnel, and ropes gathered from battle. There was of course, a separate tent for Arthur and his Knights. Amanda and Nicolarious were to stay with him too, and it wasn't until Nicolarious brought up the question that Arthur gave a thought to Amanda.
"Arthur, have you seen my sister?" Nicolarious asked, his voice tired while the Caretaker finished examining his legs.
"No, Nick, I haven't. Where was she last you saw?" Arthur asked his voice suddenly strained.
"Last I saw she was leaving the Keep," Nicolarious answered.
"Then she must be around here somewhere," Arthur answered.
"No," Nicolarious said, "she was going back into the palace." Arthurs face dropped, and his shoulders went down.
"And you haven't seen her?" he asked, his voice suddenly quiet. Nicolarious shook his head. Arthur rose up, and dashed out of the tent. Going to a near by guard, he pulled him to him.
"Have you seen Amanda Marslyn?" Arthur asked.
"No, Your Majesty," the guard answered.
"Order a search party. I want this camp combed to find her. Report to me the instant you know anything," Arthur demanded. The guard nodded and darted away. Arthur walked on, looking for his Knights. He spotted the long hair of Gawain, and shouted:
"Gawain!"
"What is it Arthur?" Gawain asked, sensing the stress in Arthur's voice.
"Have you seen Amanda?" Arthur asked.
"No, Arthur, not since the break we had in the Keep. Why?" He asked. Arthur gave him a look with disappointment in his eyes.
"No one has seen her," Arthur said quietly. Gawains face went pale and he couldn't tear his eyes away from Arthurs.
"Damn it," Gawain said, and Galahad came over, his tired face looking confused.
"What? Please, you two, don't start arguing again," Galahad said, but went silent when Gawain gave him a sidelong glance.
"We can't find Amanda," Gawain said, and Bors slammed his fist against armor that was lying around.
"Didn't you tell her not to wait for us?" Bors asked.
"Yes, I did. But, she wasn't in the Keep when we passed through. I thought she had gone ahead. Nick just told me that she left the Keep when she sent the people out," Arthur answered.
"Foolish girl," Jols said, and Arthur shot him a look.
"Do we even know for a fact that she's still there?" Galahad asked. Arthur was lost in thought, mentally attacking himself for letting her out of his sight.
"Where else would she be Galahad?" Gawain asked his voice angry.
"Somewhere in the tunnels?" Galahad shot back.
"She's not an idiot Galahad, she can follow people," Gawain said. Galahad and Gawain continued to argue, and Arthur fell out of the conversation. He was tried of listening to Gawain argue, and had too much on his mind to stand for it. He walked over to the edge of the clearing, his eyes looking in the direction of what would be the tunnels. All sealed up and blocked off. Amanda wouldn't have made it back out if she was in the palace. They had closed off the entrance when they went through. There was no way Amanda's small frame, despite her strength, could open up those doors. It took two of his strongest men to do it, never mind the fact that she didn't have the wedge to separate it from the stone. He heard the padding of small feet behind him, and looked back to see the small child Amanda had kept with her before the first battle. He smiled, and the toddler reached for him. Lifting her, he settled her on his side, and looked down.
"What's your name, little one?" he asked softly.
"Collette," she said, her voice airy and her word unsure. Arthur looked at her, taking in her light brown curls, and small brown eyes. As he looked at her, he became lost in thought, images of Amanda coming to his mind. This one of her holding Collette on her hip, her head tilted slightly to the side, her blue eyes sparkling and her hair around her face kept repeating in his mind. He longed to see her again, and to tell her how much he loved her.
Amanda awoke on the cold stone floor of some room. Wincing for a moment, and blinking a few more times, she lifted her heavy head and assumed the room to be the kitchen, which she had never seen before. Looking all around her were other bodies. Bodies of men from Camelot; men that were injured. There was another man in the room, with his back turned to Amanda, whom Amanda could not tag as an enemy or a friend. He was tending to the wounded men, his voice deep and very quiet. Rising from a crouched position, Amanda staid still, and waited for the man to notice her. He looked her way, and when she saw his face, she gasped. It was Marc Hughman, but she would not have recognized him if he hadn't turned his whole body towards her. The entire left side of his face was red and discolored, and it dawned on her what had happened; the fireball that separated them earlier had hit him much harder than it had hit her. She rose and walked carefully over to him.
"Marc, are you all right?" She asked, her voice quiet but concerned.
"Oh, milady, this is nothing," he said in hushed tones.
"Please don't feel obligated to use those ridiculous titles. My name is Amanda. And that," she said pointing, "Is not nothing."
"I've put ointment on it, why are you still here?" he asked.
"Because I am a fool Marc," she answered. He chuckled.
"I doubt that," he said. Amanda rolled her eyes.
"His Majesty told me to go with the people and I went back to my room to get jewelry. Try to tell me I'm not a fool," she said. Marc shook his head.
"You're a fool," he said. Amanda looked aside his large build to see he had been doing his best to bandage and take care of the wounded.
"And you are a good man," Amanda said, gesturing to the other men in the room.
"Most of them are unconscious because of the catapulting that went on, hit by stones that come off the wall and what not. They've already removed many whom have passed," Marc said, squatting down next to another man, and examining a gash on the man's head. The door behind them opened, and two Irishmen came in.
"You!" one said, pointing at Amanda. The other came around to grab her arm, and twist it behind her back.
"His Majesty would like to see you," he said, and Amanda complied with their wishes. She walked and they led her to the throne room. The moment she walked in she was disgusted, and the smell that emanated from the men that were crowded and lounging about in that once beautiful room was disgusting.
"Your Majesty," the Irishmen said, bowing to Gurshion and releasing Amanda. Amanda stood still and looked at the evil man now sitting on Arthur's throne. His legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankle, and his right hand was wrapped around a goblet of wine. He sneered at Amanda, and Amanda simply stared back, hoping that every hateful bone in her body could be conveyed through her blue eyes.
"Amanda Marslyn, you are to bow before royalty," he said. Amanda looked about her, and furrowed her brow.
"I see none to bow to," she said, and knew she would regret it. Gurshion, though looking like he was going to attack her, straightened up and smiled.
"I was hoping you'd say that. Because, you see Amanda, while you were pleasantly unconscious, you agreed at our trial to be my serf for all eternity. I asked if you would speak for yourself, and since you gave no answer, I assumed you were willing. At that trial, I also explained what you are and aren't allowed to do. Speaking to me unless I ask you to is one of the things you cannot do. The punishment you receive for that is ten lashes. Orhus, if you would do the honors," Gurshion said. Amanda was outraged, and suddenly over taken by three men. Two held out each of her hands, forcing her to the ground. The other ripped open the back of her tunic so that her backside was exposed. A small, sneaky man came forward, and Amanda recognized him. He had lived next door to her when she and her family had just moved here. He was still in Camelot when she left, and now here he was, working for the enemy. Her face was pushed to the floor, and her body began to shake uncontrollably.
"I hope you think better to watch your mouth next time," she heard Gurshion say. Then, there was a loud crack and the skin just under her shoulder was split open by what felt like an unrealistically sharp blade. She cried out in pain, and felt hot tears seep out of the corners of her tightly shut eyes as her skin welted and burned in pain. Again there was a crack, and the blade sliced open the skin from her side to her lower back. Amanda yelled out, and she felt the grips on her wrists get tighter as she writhed. Another crack, and her forehead dug into the cold stone as her other shoulder tore open in agony. She could her Gurshion laughing as she cried out, and as the whip kept echoing through the bodies of her enemy laughing. Amanda's body kept shaking, and her heart beat wildly in her body; out of anger and in order to keep blood pumping to the new and fresh wounds that covered her back. Amanda had lost count of how many times the whip had touched her skin. But, on the last one, Gurshion gave Orhus a look that the receiver understood what to do next; inflict as much pain as humanly possible. Orhus turned his grimy face back to Amanda's body, and his wrist twitched. Raising his arm over his head, he snapped his elbow, and sent the whip at Amanda's back. He was good with a whip, and Amanda screamed out in pain as the whip lashed vertically from the base of her neck down her spine. Not only was it the most sensitive area on her back, but it crossed over two other lashes and her skin felt white hot. Her head snapped back in pain, and her body trembled all over. The whip recoiled from her body, and Amanda felt the hold on her body loosen as the men lifted her up. Amanda stood still, her mind numb in pain, but her face still and indifferent to the world around her. The others in the room were jeering and throwing food at her, and Gurshion ordered the men to do something, but Amanda didn't hear him. They turned her around and began walking her away from the throne. Her tunic was coming off her shoulders, but she couldn't fix it. Suddenly, icy water touched her burning back, and the others roared in laughter. Two others came and poured their alcohol over her back. Amanda cried in pain, the alcohol stinging, even though she knew it would help her wounds. Dripping wet and cold, Amanda was forced down onto her knees. A new face came forward; a tall Saxon with a red beard came with a knife in his hand. She faced Gurshion, and she saw him give the man a signal. She kneeled, unmoving, and she felt her hair be lifted up by the Saxon. The knife was sharp, and her curls were cut just below her ears. Her mouth didn't twitch into a frown, and she could see that Gurshions' temper was raising the more and more she appeared to not care. Food was still thrown at her, and she had bits of cheese, lettuce, tomato, and bread all over her. Her face had soot on it from being against the floor, and Amanda still didn't care. She could feel the chain of her mothers' neck cold against her now bare skin, and her tunic sliding further down. Gurshion got up off Arthurs throne and walked forward to Amanda.
"I've never seen an uglier woman in my life," he hissed, "Arthur will never love you now." Amanda looked up at him, and refused to speak.
Merlin sat and watched Arthur for a while, the man standing in the forest with a child in his arms. When it was darkening, and others were readying their fires, he went to Arthur, and cleared his throat.
"You know, you would make a good father," Merlin said after a moment.
"Ah, if only I had a wife to bear me a child," Arthur said, turning and looking at Merlin.
"Well," Merlin paused, "You've had two already Arthur, how many more do you need?" Arthur looked away.
"You really know how to frustrate people, you know that?" Arthur retorted.
"And you really know how to drag out a relationship before you make a move," Merlin replied, going to Arthurs' side and looking in the direction that he knew was the tunnels.
"I told her I love her," Arthur said, looking at his feet.
"And?" Merlin asked.
"She was asleep."
"Fool!" Merlin exclaimed, "You could take a lesson from your cousin! Just take her up in your arms and kiss her!"
"I can't just do that Merlin!"
"Why not?"
"What if she rejects me? What if she doesn't love me in return?" Arthur cried, putting Collette down.
"Arthur! You cannot be serious! Look at her! Look at all you have put her through! You took her in and then turned her out, you have fought with her countless times, and you sided with a person who disrespected her, denied her trust, didn't believe her, labeled her as a murderer, and indirectly killed the only man that has ever openly loved her! And you think she doesn't love you! You're lucky she's still in your life!" Merlin spat at him.
"Don't you think I know that?" Arthur bellowed.
"So why are you letting something as silly as fear hold you back when it has never held you back before?" Merlin asked. Arthur turned away from him hit the tree. Merlin threw up his hands in the air, exasperated.
"She frustrates me so, sometimes. She provokes this anger in me and we're both so stubborn I can't even talk to her sometimes! We spend most of our time fighting than being at peace, and then apologizing we don't even talk!" Arthur said, looking back at Merlin.
"So you don't know if you love her?" Merlin tested.
"Of course I love her!" Arthur said, without even thinking. Merlin smiled and raised his eyebrows at Arthur. Arthur let his head hang back, and her stared at the treetops for a moment.
"How am I to tell her Merlin?" Arthur asked. Merlin shook his head.
"That's for you to figure out; I am no expert in matters of words. But, Arthur, you're not going to have anyone to confess your love to if you don't save her first." Arthur watched as the man of wisdom turn around and walk away from him. Arthur felt a small tug on his fingers, and looked down at Collette.
"Where's daddy?" she asked, in her small voice. Arthur shook his head, his green eyes meeting her brown ones. Kneeling down, he knew that Marc Hughman had been injured in the city when the firebombs were coming down. Kneeling down, and looking at her, he shook his head.
"I believe you're daddy's in heaven sweetheart," he said the best way he knew how to.
"He's with mommy?" she asked. Arthur nodded, assuming she was right.
"Where is Amandaba?" she asked, forcing Arthur to smile at her pronunciation of Amanda's name.
"She's not here right now, but I'm going to go get her very soon sweetheart."
Amanda had been dragged back to the kitchen where Marc was, her body limp and weak. As soon as the men that dragged her there left, Marc came and tended to her wounds.
"They're not too deep Amanda," he said soothingly, even though he knew she wasn't listening to him. "I'll keep putting this ointment on them, and you shouldn't scar at all." Amanda let her eyes close in peace before she spoke.
"Collette is safe," she said quietly. She felt Marc pause in his work, and then continue.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"I left her in the care of my best friend. I am sure she is well," Amanda answered.
"She's all I have left of her mother," Marc said softly.
"She's a beautiful girl," Amanda said back.
"That means much to me, coming from you. The legend of Camelot," he chuckled a bit. Amanda felt the anger well up in her chest again.
"I hate that title," Amanda said, "I have done nothing to earn it."
Except show the world you love Arthur, Amanda criticized herself.
"I beg to differ. You are the majority of what they say. Smart, kind, witty, gentle," he paused, "beautiful." Amanda wasn't phased.
"I don't understand why everyone feels the need to talk about me," she said resentfully.
"You're interesting. And we're all rooting for you. It's like a fairy tale is unfolding before our very eyes," Marc said. Amanda considered it. She knew that if she was not one of the major characters in this "fairy tale", she would be just like Marc, and would be enveloped in the story of Arthur and his new fair maiden. Amanda sighed, and tried her best not to move.
"Thank you," she said, "for everything." Marc moved beside her, and looked down.
"You're welcome. Thank you for taking care of my daughter," he said.
"If we ever get out of here, I would very much like to spend time with her," Amanda said.
"Oh, we'll get out of here," Marc said confidently, "I'm already formulating a plot in my head." Amanda raised her eyebrows at him in surprise, "Oh, it's not quite finished yet. But, don't worry Amanda, when it's complete I'll share it with you." Amanda nodded ever so slightly and felt her back protest in agony.
"I'll listen when you're ready," Amanda added.
If only she had done that the first time around.
