Chapter 40 [Noon]

[North Road—near Camelot/Gedref Border]

Arthur spurred his horse up the trail. He and the knights' pace devoured Distance's expanse. Urgency and Worry drove him onward. He needed to know Uther's situation. Imagination played havoc over Mithian's condition. He bit down Politics' souring condition. War's prospect scared him to be honest.

Camelot could deal with Nemeth well enough. Still could the knights deal with another kingdom attacking at the same time?

Father just had to take matters into his own hands! Arthur ground his teeth. He pulled up just short of the Severn's rushing waters. "Knights! Look around but be careful! The King would be around here somewhere! Just be aware! There may be Cawdorians or Mercians nearby!" He pointed in several different directions.

The knights fanned out in a search pattern. Within a dozen heartbeats, Blood Smeared Grass and Graves met their collective eye. Kilgarrah's landing area dented that grass as well. Each knight signaled to their comrades and Arthur.

Arthur shook his head. Decency restrained him from digging up the graves to see which kingdom's knights lay in them. "Our knights? Nemeth's? Cawdor's? Mercia's?"

"Sire, perhaps we should press on?" A slender knight proposed. "There was a battle here. Still there are no signs of our knights. Perhaps up the road?"

Arthur sighed. He regarded the road and the Bridge of No Return in front of himself. "King Kay would not be like his father or grandfather. We can ride through Gedref. Still, I do not want any fighting or an incident. Am I clear?" He frowned. "We can explain to Lord Aethelwald that we ride for both my father's and the Princess' benefit. He hated the partial lie at that point. That is what Merlin was doing all along. He manipulated the truth to make me overlook the obvious. Great! So I am becoming a Prat like him! "Mount up. We will ride down the path and…."

"SIRE!" A more muscular knight pointed toward the north. "There's a rider coming from the north! He appears to be Mercian!"

"Mercian?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Cenred is certainly getting bold. Stand ready, Men!" He drew his sword. He motioned the knights into a line.

The rider stopped his horse just short of Arthur. Stolid eyes peered out from his helmet's eye slits. His right hand held the rein. His left hand carried Truce's banner. "Knights of Camelot! I have a message for your Prince!"

Arthur strode toward the horse and rider. "I am Arthur, Prince of Camelot." Challenge blazed in his eyes. Frown curled in upon itself. "We respect your flag of truce, Messenger. State your business on my father's land."

The Mercian shook his head. "You talk grandly, Prince. King Cenred and my fellow knights are but a few hours behind me. He offers surrender with terms for your subjects. Otherwise he will bring his entire army down on Camelot. The city will be sacked and burned."

"You may speak to my father upon his return, Messenger. King Uther will deny Cenred's request. He is…." Arthur started.

"Uther's return." The Mercian scoffed. Tsk escaped his lips. "I fear, Prince Arthur, that is not happening. My Lord Cenred instructed me to deliver this to you." He pointed to the sack hanging from his saddle's right side.

"Not happening? You'd best not be implying…." Arthur grabbed the bundle from the saddle. He undid the rope tying it shut on top. He peered inside. His eyes narrowed.

Uther's head stared without feeling…without life itself...back at his son….

"Father." Anger seethed in Arthur's heart. Issues stood between them. Marital Impasse provoked Emotions' spleen in their last words. Regret's pangs stung his heart. He maintained the Mask of State. "You tell Cenred that Camelot will demand an answer for this, Messenger!" He grabbed for his sword's hilt. Then he forced his hand to stop. "Nay. You rode in under a flag of truce for your King. You tell Cenred."

"I shall indeed, Prince Arthur." The Mercian nodded. Esteem, despite everything, made an imprint on him. "Ride hard. You do not have long." He turned his horse back toward the north and galloped off in that direction.

Arthur ground his teeth. Merlin knew about this! Was he…? Common Sense asserted itself. Nay. Despite his magic, Merlin would not conspire against Camelot. Nemeth has nothing to gain from conspiring against Camelot. I wanted to be free to marry Gwen but not like this! He clenched his fist. "Back to Camelot!" He tied Uther's sack to his own saddle. Then he mounted his horse and sped back toward his own citadel.

Anxiety jumped between the knights' glances toward one another. Words failed them. They'd never seen Arthur like that. They raced after him.

Storm brewed in the north. It advanced toward them….