WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS CENTERED AROUND UNPLEASANT TOPICS.
A child's bedtime story was a naïve representation of the truth. The narrative was absent of human nature. To create a fairytale in reality, the author must clean up the mess and set up the stage.
Any good upstart King of an existing nation must reform the policies of the old to restart the economy and give prosperity to its citizens. Mordred was not king material as she was never trained to be one, neither was the soul within her. Combined, we were horrible at government delegations.
Knights were warriors of the battlefield. A few were knowledgeable or even excellent in politics, but it was never their role. King Arthur was raised to be a king and a knight, but fell into her hole of ideals and left the jurisdiction of her nation to the church, lords, and other governing bodies. The monarch did have the final say in things, though reality was never as vibrant as her ideals. The laws she implemented were ripe for abuse. Even if no loopholes were available, no one was there to stop the ruling bodies from neglecting it. With the growing discontent of the populace, loyalists to the crown were declining and easily bribed. If the bribe did not work, the alternative was simply having the opposition disappear. The king was too engrossed into her perfection to respond to the absence of a few minor individuals.
The fear and rivalry amongst the governing body kept the nation in a fragile stability. Hell broke loose when Lancelot's love affair with Guinevere was uncovered and ended in my crowning.
The sudden uprising of my regime was not welcomed by most aristocrats and clergymen. Only the selected few who fought by her side supported her supreme authority. The upper class hated Arthur for not being a willing puppet…They would hate me for the same motives.
A good iron fisting should kickstart a deteriorating nation, especially one filled with neglect and corruption. Off with the heads of the truly despicable and strip the opposing nobility of their high social status and fortune. The final step was to refill those ranks with those I trusted, which mostly consisted of minor nobles and commoners who sided with me during my rebellion.
The standings of the surviving Knights of the Round Table were left mostly intact, besides the minor ordeal of compensation from their treasure vaults to help repair the damages of the civil war. Some of the knights may despise me for my rebellion and slaughter of fellow knights. They held grudges, but they outwardly agreed to pay up to better their nation.
Some people were definitely pissed at my actions, especially the nobles I punished. Like what I did to most of them, if they complained, then off with their heads. When people went against sound reasoning in favor of prejudice and/or bullshit god speeches, off with their heads. It was dirty work…Dirty rewarding work.
I held no tolerance to the parasites that featured the streets and halls of Britain. Everyone realized that when I decapitated a fat noble after he interrupted my crowning.
"I don't give two shits about what you think is the old ways, or God's given grace. If they don't show results, then I don't care. Any more bullshit that you can't upfront prove with sound reasoning, will have my fist shoved up your ass. You will be seeing my fingers coming out of your throat." I screamed at the squirming pigs sitting around me. "You got that!"
My enemies swiftly nodded in a cold sweat and my allies applauded my frank and violent approach. They knew what entailed them when they joined my side and accepted it as who I was. A few soldiers were called forth to drag the corpse out of the throne room.
"Now, back to more official businesses." I walked back to my throne and waved forward to the newly appointed minister of finances to give us the changes that were implemented.
The man stood from his seat and began to speak. "From this day forward, all nobility and church presences will be emptied of their wealth to support the people of Britain in welfare, education, and construction. The items that remain after the rehabilitation will be reinstated to their former owners. The-"
"Preposterous." A bishop in his mid-50s rose from his seat, cutting the minister off. "You would dare use God as an instrument to your rule?! The Lord will smite you where you sit!"
"Oh please. We all know you people are using it to bribe government officials and buying luxurious mansions with those donations." I cracked my neck and grinned. "Besides, I don't mind."
"YouYouYouYou!" His face turned bright with anger. "This is heresy. Everyone, do you not see the madness of this heretic? This whore of a mad dog is tarnishing our God's name and is demanding us to live on the level of peasants!"
The bishop screamed towards his fellow peers and nobles in hopes of rallying allies. He never expected a young priest breaking his nose. The bishop was knocked off his feet and tumbled to the ground.
"And what if she is?" The attacking priest spoke. "I was a so-called peasant not too long ago and you don't see us complaining."
"It is the peasants' duty to be servants to the righteous man chosen by God!" The man on the ground picked himself up and screamed back. "You being one of them shows that filth is defiling God's sacred places!"
"Do those so-called righteous men have the right to hang my mother for being a WITCH!?" The younger priest tackled his peer back to the ground and threw more punches. "Do YOU have the RIGHT to rape my little sister!?"
I whistled at the sudden display of violence, not done by yours truly. The bloodlust within the room was already thick as honey. The two groups within this room were out for blood even before I killed the fat noble. I guess the comment by the old priest really pulled the pin of the grenade.
I was surprised that it had happened between priests, instead of the more hotheaded nobles. I waited until the young priest was satisfied with his deed.
"Please, help me, your majesty!" The wounded man pleaded. Look at that...The once prudent bishop was reduced to a quivering rat.
"You want my assistance?" I sweetly asked. "Do you really want help from this whore of a mad dog?"
His face paled at my response. I looked back at the priest; he had dusted himself off and was kneeling before me.
"I am sorry for my immature outburst your highness, but I can not allow this man's presence tarnish my origins and tragedy." He calmly voiced.
"There is no need to apologize." I clapped my hands. "In fact, I applaud you for your quick wits. It is better to weed out the parasites before they multiply."
I leaned forward with my hands supporting my chin. "Tell me, do you remember what I said at the start of this gathering?"
"That you will not tolerate bullshit, your grace." His reply was immediate and unyielding.
I nodded. "And was his talk bullshit to you and everyone else? Raise your hand if you believe so." I scanned the room. The young priest and the majority of my rebellion supporters raised their hands. There were a few that hated me who also did so. All the knights had raised their hand, which was expected.
I registered the answers and gestured my head towards Lancelot. The knight nodded and ordered the soldiers within the room to escort out the people without raised hands. The victims, including the wounded priest, screamed in protest:
"You can't do this to us!"
"I can be of use. I have gold, money, everything. Please no!"
"I have done nothing wrong!"
...
...
The squeals of sinners; a pleasant sound to my ears. I may be a tad bit harsh to these people, but they needed to know their place. King Arthur was the untouchable god, while I was a ragtag human with parent problems. I did have Excalibur now (stupid Lake B*tch) so that should affirm my new title, though that didn't stop me from rebelling against my father. I needed something to anchor them so that the reconstruction of Britain would not be hindered by greed.
And this method was what Mordred and the soul within her simultaneously agreed upon. It was the only way to get things done. To atone for my failed promise...To clear the stage of garbage and present a fairytale upon its polished deck.
"You want a new job?" I asked the young instigator.
*Tap*
*Tap*
*Tap*
In an empty tavern set two men playing a quiet game of chess. It was noon, a high time for people to be at work and little to waste on entertainment.
"Is there something on your mind, Gawain?" The red haired knight Tristan asked his friend and fellow Knight of the Round Table. Gawain didn't respond and pushed up his pawn.
"This is not like you. To be filled with this anger and regret." Tristan said with concern and moved his rook.
Gawain kept his silence as he moved another pawn and captured a bishop.
"It is Mordred being king." Tristan calmly proclaimed. "Isn't it?"
The blond knight took a long swig of his alcohol. He emptied the mug and gently placed it onto the table.
"I can't have a clear conscience on what has happened. There are too many things to keep a clear conscience." Gawain gradually started. "Lancelot and Gareth had fully sided with Mordred and her method of authority."
His frown deepened. "There is so much change that is being done to Britain. So much death even after Mordred's crowning."
"I agree with Mordred that they deserve it." Gawain countered his own statement. "He, no she, killed our king who I swore my loyalty to. Yet, she did so for a righteous, knightly cause. I do not know what to do."
He looked at Tristan, his eyes asking desperately for answers. Tristan stared back before refilling the mug of alcohol. Gawain accepted it and began drinking.
"Perhaps you should see the situation from an outsider's perspective." Gawain heard Tristan's statement and stopped drinking. The red knight noticed the interest his friend had shown.
"Instead of seeing everything as a knight, why not see it as a common folk?" Tristan continued. "A common man saw a selfish king being replaced by another who would distribute the wealth of the rich to help support their livelihood. In doing so, many more lives were saved from his tyranny."
"In doing so, Mordred killed our king!" Gawain interrupted and slammed his fist on the desk. The chess pieces bounced at his strike.
"Yes she did, but does a common man care for that if it meant a better life for his family?"
"We are not the common man!" Gawain angrily declared. "We are the Knights of the Round Table who had sworn loyalty to King Arthur!"
"Now that our king is gone, do we not show the same loyalty to his heir? A heir who proved to be quite blunt and lacked manners, but still held the traits of a great ruler."
"Mordred is his child?!" Gawain yelled in shock.
"Is that not obvious from their similar complexion?" Tristan was truly confused by his friend's naivety.
"NO!" Gawain slumped in his chair, shocked at both Mordred's heritage and Tristan's opinions. He sat in silence and steadied himself. "How do you handle this?...This mess?"
"I simply accept everything as fact and hope for the best. I feel sorrow for the loss of King Arthur and the people who died in battle. Though he may be gone, but his legacy will not end here." Tristan chuckled. "And people say I am the gloomy one within the Round Table."
Gawain looked at his mug and finished it. "Perhaps I too should move forward and make amends with Mordred."
At that, Tristan nodded. "Mordred did save Gareth so you should not hate her too much. Oh, and checkmate." The red knight moved his queen and trapped the opposing king. Seeing the completion of their chess game, Tristan left the tavern to give Gawain some time to reorganize his thoughts of events hereafter.
"Indeed." The lone knight sat silently, staring at the chessboard. He moved Tristan's queen towards his king and knocked the king piece over.
"In...deed."
"Oh poor Bedivere." The hooded man chimed. "Your King is dead and everyone chose to follow that false bastard of a knight to be the new ruler of Britain. Do you wish to change this fate?"
He revealed the Holy Grail and a pair of hands reached for it.
"Make a wish and everything will be as they should. It is your destiny."
