The Youth With the Golden Ring

The others heard Arthur and Mordred returning. "About time," Hector said in relief.

"We were about to start searching," Astomar added.

"We're fine. Barely," Arthur cynically replied, coming out of the woods. "All three of us."

"Three?" Bleoberis asked.

"Guess what we picked up," Arthur dryly said, gesturing back at the bushes. Balin stepped nervously out and awkwardly grinned.

Immediately protests rang out. "Quiet down, quiet down!" Meliot ordered.

Mordred came into sight just then. "What happened to our brother?" Gareth demanded, eyes widening on seeing Mordred's muddy appearance.

"Yeah Wart, what's the scoop?" Kay asked.

"Kay, not in front of the guys!" Arthur exclaimed, horrified at the use of his nickname.

"Wart? What's the story behind that?" Balin questioned. Kay and Arthur both tensed up, grimacing and exchanging looks.

"We'll talk about this later," Arthur grumbled in embarrassment.

"Enough. Gareth and I want answers! What happened to Mordred?" Gawain shot.

"Run in with quicksand," Arthur dryly remarked, looking down at Mordred's mud-covered body.

"Quicksand? Wow!" Lionel exclaimed in shock.

"How did he get out?" Hector wondered.

"Me," Arthur replied.

"You? You saved him?" Gareth incredulously asked.

"He's my nephew! Of course I did!" Arthur shot, frowning as his temper flared.

"With help from me," Balin added. "Arthur nearly got himself trapped too, trying to save Mordred, but I was able to help pull Mordred out. Take that, bad luck."

"You got stuck promptly after," Mordred dryly reminded. Balin winced and face-palmed.

"Never mind that. What possessed you, Mordred, to skip that safety class?" Safir demanded, unimpressed with the lack of safety awareness.

"Get off his case, Safir," Gareth bit.

"I'm too young to have taken that class yet, and when Ector was doing a summary I didn't come because me and Loholt just had a run in with Bleoberis. I wasn't in the mood to hear it," Mordred replied.

"Sorry guys," Bleoberis said, looking a little sheepish. Arthur blinked. Had the guy just apologized to Mordred and Loholt?

"Bleoberis never attempted to pick on Mordred and Loholt again," Gawain said, glaring at Bleoberis. Bleoberis winced. Yeah, having Gareth, Agravaine, Gaheris, and Gawain all leap down his throat hadn't been pleasant.

"Enough, boys, they're back again safe; that's what matters," Ector declared.

"Are you okay, Mordred?" Ywain worriedly asked.

"I'm okay," Mordred confirmed, nodding.

"And now we have the added responsibility of young Balin," Pellinore said, shaking his head.

"I can totally go back to Gaheris, Agravaine, and my bro," Balin lamely offered. "Need to get back to IAK anyway."

"I don't think so. These woods are filled with various creatures this time of year, all of them at peak power. You're staying near to us and in fact leading us to your fellow spies. They cannot be out here alone without the protection of a larger group. They could get themselves killed," Galehaut said.

Balin paled, immediately worried for his twin. "Say it like that, I guess I'm with you, dude," he replied immediately. Loyalties meant nothing to him when his brother's life might be on the line. Gaheris and Agravaine he wasn't overly fond of, but hey, might as well get all three of them back, safe. Something told him he was a prisoner now anyway, so he didn't have a lot of refusal options here. Soon Balan, Gaheris, and Agravaine would be 'prisoners' too unless IAK showed up in time to pull them all out.

Just then they noticed Gawain pacing around the camp, looking restless. "Gawain, what is it?" Meliot asked.

"Can't you hear it?" Brunor questioned hollowly for Gawain, startling them all. They turned to him. He was gazing into the fire intentely. It was actually kind of eerie. "Gawain and I saw something. He went to check. He doesn't hear it, but I do. Someone, something, is watching us…" He shivered.

"La Cote Male Taile, what's wrong?" Kay demanded.

"La Cote Male Taile?" Lamorak asked.

"'Tis his nickname for Brunor. It means the Ill-Fitting Coat," Palamedes replied, pointing out the coat Brunor was wearing.

"She-she's picked…" Brunor stammered in the same eerie tone, as if he'd been put into a trance. "She's chosen her consort amongst us."

"Get Gawain away from the woods!" Pellinore ordered, quickly rising. Worried now, the other boys rose. All except Brunor.

"Gawain is safe… She sees someone else she likes better…" Brunor said.

"Balin behind yous!" Bleoberis suddenly cried out in terror. The others whipped around to look at Balin. Balin turned swiftly but hardly had time to gasp before something grabbed him tight! He cried out in terror as he was dragged into the woods.

"Let him go!" Arthur shouted after the thing that had taken Balin and pulled him away.

"Get it!" Lancelot ordered.

"Why dost he not fight?" Palamedes exclaimed.

"The wretch is unluckier than Arthur. Whatever creature that is probably has him under a spell!" Lucan stated.

"Fight back soldier, fight!" Degore ordered as they all gave chase. Galehaut shook Brunor to snap him out of his daze. For a moment the boy looked confused before catching his breath as he registered what had happened. He quickly leapt up and ran after the others along with Galehaut.

KAK

Balin felt dizzy as the creature pulled him farther and farther from the others. What was it? He tried to clear his head of the cobwebs, so he could piece it together. He managed to clear his mind just enough to figure it out. Hagraven! It was a Hagraven! He gasped and tried to pull away from her, but she must have cast some sort of spell on him because he couldn't get free! "H-help me…" he quietly whispered, trying to cry out. His voice wouldn't work. No, this wasn't going to end like this! He had to fight back! With a sudden burst of adrenaline, he pulled away, falling to the ground free of her.

She growled and turned on him, teeth bared. "Insolent boy. You will come with me whether you want it or not; and you will be either my consort or food for my sisters."

Balin, teeth clenched, glared up at her. "Bring it on," he challenged in a low voice. And she did. With an unholy shriek, she lunged for him! He tried to move only to collapse with a cry as all his strength was sapped from his body. He almost cursed. She'd cast a spell on him! She'd cast a spell, and now all he could do was hope he survived long enough for the others to intervene in time. He closed his eyes tightly and braced himself.

"Get away, hag!" a voice suddenly shouted. Balin's eyes flew open with a gasp. There, up on a cliff ledge, stood a boy around his age with fiery red hair and an Irish accent. Said boy leapt down and slashed the hagraven. She screamed and leapt back. She dove at him, but he moved around her, blocking her attacks and fighting valiantly. The kid had talent, but it wasn't refined well so the hag was slowly getting to him. Balin felt the spell starting to dissipate and began to try and move again so he could help. Just then Palamedes and Tristan sprang through the bush—the first two to reach the scene—and saw the battle. Instantly they joined the third boy in fighting off the hag. It took only seconds before she was driven away with an enraged and hybrid sound, something between a shriek and a roar.

Tristan, Palamedes, and the stranger pursued her, but didn't leave Balin's sight, stopping just short of the treeline to watch and make sure the creature wouldn't come back. After a few seconds, they determined it was probably safe to return their weapons. They did so. Panting, the three summed each other up warily before returning quickly to Balin, who was just managing to stagger up. The stranger took his arm to help stabalize him. He looked at the guy in disbelief before nodding a cautious thank you. The stranger smiled worriedly back. Just then the others arrived. "Balin, are you okay?!" Arthur exclaimed in disbelief, running to his friend.

"F-fine, thanks to this guy," Balin replied, surprised. Said guy stood back a bit uncertaintly, watching them.

"'Tis thy name name, stranger?" Palamedes quietly asked him, tentatively approaching.

The boy looked a moment uncomfortable, shifting slightly, before relaxing a little. "Me name? I was called Stephen," he replied. "Servause was me… well, me birth name. Stephen is probably easier t' remember though."

"Your… birth name? Tristan asked, immediately suspicious. Why had his name been changed? Was it of his own volition? "Where do you hail from?" Tristan asked.

Stephen, Servause, was quiet. Soon he replied, "Ireland. I'm… I'm an escaped slave, one o' three hundred youths and maidens sold to the Irish king Anguish annually. A compensation for some battle I've long forgotten the reason for. I was raised in slavery there and finally…" He trailed off, pausing. Soon he sighed, closing his eyes. "I got tired of it, okay? I escaped and stowed away on a boat heading somewhere. I had no idea where. But it was caught in a storm and destroyed. I managed t' swim t' shore. I don't know what happened t' the others, but I haven't seen a soul o' 'em since so I assume they're dead. I've… been trapped in these woods a long time… A real long time… You're the first people I've seen for longer than I'd care t' admit…" It was probably a miracle he was talking to them at all, but he'd been starved for human contact a long time now. If he was nothing else, he was bold. Bold enough to take this chance, at least. Tristan was obviously furious. Balin looked appalled at the mention of slavery. He recalled that tribute, but to see and physically meet one of the slaves that belonged to King Anguish, Morholt's boss… It was a little jarring. "I'm on me own now," Stephen said.

Arthur, on hearing this, inwardly winced. Before he could even think it through, he solemnly said, "Not anymore you're not. Come with us. We're students of Worcestershire Academy on a field trip. Follow us and we'll bring you back to the school where you'll be safe and taken care of. You can even improve your fighting there, get a proper education! We… we can protect you." The others looked at him in vague surprise, still not used to this kingly side of Arthur that kept peeking through every time you forgot it was there or chalked it up to fluke.

"I-I have no money, nothing," Stephen replied.

"It doesn't matter," Tristan said firmly, answering for Arthur.

"Totally dude!" Balin added. Arthur nodded at them approvingly. There were two people, at least, backing him up with this decision. How would the others take it now?

"R-really? Are ya serious?" Servause asked, looking a little hopeful. Having a place to stay, being around other people again, getting a formal education? These were things he'd begun to think he'd never have… Well, he'd been educated by his master, but as established it wasn't formal. Not that it was bad, just not formal!

"You're sentimental. We have too many of those. You should go," Mordred said. That earned him a strike up the back of the head from Gawain. "Ow!" he protested. He gave his brother a dirty look. Gawain just glared warningly at him, unimpressed. Mordred thought about protesting, then decided that probably wasn't for the best and fell silent with a pout. Loholt, Ywain, and Yvain snickered at him. Mordred shot them all a spiteful glare.

"Welcome to the, well, won't call it family, but welcome anyway!" Dagonet said, smiling. Arthur inwardly sighed in relief. Seemed the guys were open to this call too. That was a massive relief.

"I'll show you the ropes, bro! It's the least I can do! I mean I'm not like the most studious guy around, but hey, whatever," Balin said. "Gods know I owe you that much. I mean you like, totally saved my life, dude."

"Then he's under your wing, Balin," Pellinore said, smiling.

"Welcome to King Arthur's Squires," Lancelot dryly said with a roll of his eyes.

"Lacks a ring to it, but it'll do for now," Arthur remarked. Lancelot frowned at him then shrugged, letting it slide. It wasn't worth the breath it would take to point out he was being sarcastic.

"All right, one more for the team," Bedivere said cheerily. "Well, two if we count Balin."

"For now you do," Balin said, shrugging.

A NEW CHARACTER EMERGES

Servause le Breuse/Stephen, the Youth with the Golden Ring: Stephen is a boy they find in the woods, soon after the unlucky Balin is nearly kidnapped by a hagraven. He saves Balin's life and the others learn he is an escaped slave of Ireland. One of three-hundred, in fact, who were given to King Anguish as an annual ransom for some won battle from long ago. Immediately Arthur welcomes him into the group, swiftly backed up by an indignant Tristan and a very grateful Balin, with whom he clicks. The two become fast friends. Stephen's immune system is the stuff of legend and he always stands up for those who are being made into the underdog. He wears a golden ring at all times, around which various theories are floated. Some suspect the ring is the source of his legendary immune system, some suspect it's the source of his luck. Servause loves to keep them guessing. He has no intentions of telling them the truth any time soon. He is a semi-pacifist, notorious for rejecting battles with men in favor of battling giants, dragons, and wild beasts.

Parents: [REDACTED] "Have a nice day!" – Merlin

Siblings: Unknown

In-Laws: Unknown

Paramour: Unknown

Children: Unknown

Uncles: Unknown

Aunts: Unknown

Cousins: Unknown

"Like this, see?" Balin said as he wrote a sentence. Servause watched carefully then copied. "Not too bad," Balin remarked, smiling. "You catch on quick."

"I did have some education in Ireland," Stephen replied, smiling. "Reading and writing were for the nobility, though."

"You're getting the hang of it," Balin assured, smirking. Probably best he didn't mention he was from a dorm house sponsored by King Anguish. Or that his dorm father was Anguish's enforcer Morholt. That the others hadn't said as much either was probably a good sign he was making the right judgement call. Stephen grinned.

"All right, break time. Come on up, Stephen, and let's see where your skills are," Ector declared.

Servause rose and went towards him, drawing his blade. "Against who?" he asked.

"Me," Meliot answered, going to him and crossing their blades. "Come, child, let's see what you can do." Immediately he struck. Servause gasped and blocked, then set his eyes determinedly. He struck back immediately and roughly, backing Meliot up. Meliot blocked a strike and lunged, swiftly pushing Stephen back with slices and jabs. Servause held his own, but he was becoming uncertain. He struck again recklessly, and Meliot had his sword to the throat almost the next moment. "You're good," he remarked.

"I lost," Servause said, looking down.

"Not one of these boys has beat a teacher yet," Meliot assured, chuckling. "With a little practice you'll be swinging that blade like a champion." Stephen grinned excitedly.

"Nice going, man," Astomar complimented.

"Thanks," Stephen replied, swinging the blade around. "The spear or the bow and arrow is where I really shine, though." He snatched a spear and threw it powerfully. Lamorak screamed in alarm as the spear barely grazed his head. His heart was pounding practically out of his chest.

"Some shot," he bit sharply.

"I hit it right on," Servause protested, pointing. Lamorak and Palamedes turned, only to see a bee impaled by the tip. Their mouths dropped.

"Behold, all yon knights. Here amongst us walks the lion-hearted Achilles in another form," Palamedes said in awe.

"Not quite," Servause replied, smirking. "But I needed to hunt somehow."

"Nice," Balin said in disbelief.

Pellinore—once his heart stopped pounding out of its cavity from his son's close brush with the spear—swallowed and said, "That was… impressive. But next time, don't throw in the direction of a student."

"Especially not if that student is Lamorak," Loholt added, snickering. Stephen looked confused. "Lamorak's his son," Loholt explained, smirking.

Servause paled a bit. Oops… "Uh, any other family ties I should be aware of?" he asked.

"Oh yeah. Buckle in," Pelleas said. Soon enough the family ties were being laid out for him one by one.

KAK

By the time everything, or a good portion of it, was laid out, Stephen's head was reeling from the complicated mess. "Now to get back to the matter at hand," Pellinore said. Stephen was low-key relieved that the subject was turning to something else now. "You mentioned, Balin, that Balan, Gaheris, and Agravaine were with you out here as well."

"Oh, right, yeah," Balin said.

"Then we have to find them," Ector said. "Before something bigger does."

"I want answers from Balin first. Why were you four in these woods so close to us in the first place?" Galehaut questioned.

Balin stiffened immediately. "We were… camping…" he lied.

"Liar!" Mordred shot, drawing his sword.

"Whoa, easy!" Balin exclaimed. "We were, err, well… Spying on you guys!"

"I knew it!" Mordred exclaimed.

"Typical. Send the slummers to keep an eye on the guys out of their league," Astomar said.

"Hey! Who's slumming now? I'm sorry, but I think that would be me," Balin said, a bit put out at the dig against his dorm house.

The Worcestershire crew burst into laughter. Balin blinked and winced, shrinking back a bit. "Leave him alone," Stephen defended, frowning. Balin was inwardly grateful to him for that.

"Enough, boys," Meliot warned. "We need to focus on finding Balan, Gaheris, and Agravaine."

"There'll be no need for that, Meliot," a new voice said. The Worcestershire crew leapt up, alarmed. From the forest emerged the IAK students on all sides, surrounding them with blades drawn!

Balin smirked, visibly relaxing. "About time," he said, rising and heading towards his brother Balan.

"Wait, you planned this?!" Arthur demanded, indignant.

"Oh please, Artie. You think I could have planned something like this? Nah. This was a group effort," Balin said, brushing Arthur off.

"When we saw who Balin got picked up by, it was time to step it up and get our boy back! Leave my own bro a captive of war? I don't think so dude," Balan stated.

"Speaking of brothers in distress, oh my god, Mordred, are you okay?!" Gaheris shoved in, immediately going towards his little brother. Agravaine was quick to follow.

"I'm fine," Mordred replied, slightly surprised at the sudden turnaround.

"We heard about the quicksand. You could have gotten killed! Why did you run off?!" Agravaine demanded. All Worcestershire eyes went to Arthur. Arthur stiffened and blushed bright red. "Of course, why am I not surprised?" Agravaine growled, glaring murderously at Arthur. "What did you tell him, uncle?!"

"Look can we not get into this right now?" Arthur asked, looking guardedly around at their rivals.

"We'll fill you in later," Gawain said to Gaheris and Agravaine. "Right now, I'd like to know what, exactly, your plan is for us."

Just then they noticed Stephen looking pale. "Servause? Dude?" Balin asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

"M-Morhaus…" Stephen stammered, eyes fixed on Morholt in uncertainty and fear. Morholt's gaze on Servause was equally as intense and fixed.

"There you are," the enforcer replied.

"Oh god!" Servause exclaimed, backing swiftly away and into Tristan.

"What's wrong?" Tristan demanded. Wait. "The tribute," he realized immediately.

"Morholt, might we ask what's going on?" King Bagdemagus asked, raising an eyebrow at Morholt warily.

"Anguish's enforcer had an alternate agenda is what's going on," Tristan furiously hissed, eyes blazing.

KAK

The two groups faced each other steadily. Worcestershire were herded together in the middle, surrounded by IAK, but the tone changed with Tristan's statement. "Morholt, what does he mean?" Daniel asked, speaking up uneasily.

Morholt looked around at the students of IAK then sighed through the nose, pinching the bridge and closing his eyes, considering his words. Soon enough, he looked up at them once more. "I'm afraid I've used you all to my own gain," he answered. He turned to Bagdemagus. "Forgive me, your majesty, for my deception. The reason I agreed to join this competition was not for as noble of reasons as I made it sound."

"What do you mean?" Bagdemagus asked, a chill shooting down his spine.

"I joined you for the purpose of tracking down the escaped slave, Stephen. You and your boys have done very well in finding him, I must say. My compliments," Morholt stated.

"What? But you told us we were looking for a lost treasure!" Alisander exclaimed, obviously angered at this declaration and slightly unnerved.

"I lied," Morholt deadpanned,

"You told them what?!" Bagdemagus demanded. Treasure was why they'd been so dedicated to this game?! Here he'd thought they'd finally clued into how important it was, but instead it had just been greed? The students of IAK gaped in shock, visibly uneasy now. What had they just done…? What would happen to this slave now that Morholt had found him? Had they just sent a boy like them to his death or worse?!

"You won't take him back as your captive!" Tristan viciously shot, drawing the dull weapon he'd been given for this competition. It wasn't ideal, but it was something. He could work with something.

Morholt looked coldly at Tristan then faced Servause. "For so long I've searched to find the escaped servant, the survivor… Finally, I have you… Was I truly so bad a master that you felt you needed to flee, Stephen?" he questioned in a softer tone.

Servause bowed his head and put a hand on Tristan's wrist, pushing it down. Tristan looked at him confusedly. Why was Servause making him lower his weapon? "No… Y' weren't a bad master…" the boy answered. Murmurs went through the IAK group. Their dorm father had had a child slave only their age?! What the flip?! That was just messed!

"Then why did you run?" Morholt asked.

Servause looked quickly up, fear in his eyes. Swallowing dryly, he answered with breaking voice, "It wasn't from ye I ran, sir."

"What?" Tristan asked icily.

Stephen licked his lips nervously, shifting. "Listen, not every single one o' the three-hundred slaves were given to Anguish. They were sold to others as well. I was one o' the few Morhaus kept for himself. He saw potential. I was a slave, aye, but he made me a squire and had me tutored! Morhaus wasn't a bad master… But one o' those associated with him was… He didn't see me as a squire, he saw me as the slave I was and ensured I was treated as such, even down t' literally wipin' his backside. It was horrible… and humiliating… He said if I ever went t' Morhaus about it, he'd kill me or the man himself. I needed t' get out somehow… So I ran… I ran but he pursued. He sunk the ship I was on… All those people died because o' me… I wouldn't go back, though, so I made it look like I died. Except I didn't die, I ended up in these woods where I've been living and hiding," he narrated.

"Oh wow, that sounds horrible," little Constantine said, eyes wide.

"You don't look surprised at this, Morholt," Petipace remarked, glaring guardedly at Morholt with eyes narrowed darkly.

"I didn't seek out Stephen to drag him back to Ireland a slave. I caught wind of the member of my court's offense shortly after he returned from sinking that ship. He got drunk one night. He boasted it up, boasted up all he had done to that boy and other slaves of mine… Of all he'd intended to do to the 'beautiful lineup', in his words." Servause caught on and paled. Brandelis caught on about the same time, body going rigid. He suddenly looked paler than Stephen. Quickly enough the others got the meaning as well, say for the little children, and looked horrified. "I had seen this boy's prowess. I didn't believe he died when that ship went down… Nor did the member of my court, who vowed to seek him out and drag him back… I turned the man away, but not before he swore to find my squire. So, I mounted my own search to find him first, and to protect him as I should have been able to before… The Squire and Knight relationship is not a one-way street for the Squire. They do not give and get nothing back."

"Y' never once let me try and lay me life on the line for you," Stephen said, still looking down.

"Not if I could help it," Morholt answered. "As you well know from the assassination attempt on me that you tried to foil and nearly got killed for."

"Y' stepped out, just as the assassin was going t' kill me… Y' said you'd surrender to him if he let me live…" Servause remarked quietly. "I wouldn't leave, not even when y' ordered me away. The assassin was impressed at your willingness t' defend a Squire, and at that Squire's loyalty t' you… Is that why he let you live…?"

"It was," Morholt replied. "That assassin, for the record boys, happened to be none other than Meliot."

"Meliot?! Meliot was the assassin?!" Accolon blurted in shock. All eyes shot over to the man, who'd been playing dumb this whole time apparently, in disbelief. Meliot ignored the glares, taking them like a class act.

"Well, this has certainly changed the tone of things," King Caradoc dryly said.

"Whoa, whoa, let's slow things down a bit here! This is too much information in too short a time with too little background! Let's just step back, sit down, and start from the beginning!" Alexander exclaimed, hoping to find a happy medium.

"I believe that might be wise," Bors the Elder agreed, nodding.

KAK

The two rival schools, plus the elementary children, were seated together now, hostility gone in favor of story time, so to speak. "I will take the lead in telling the tale," Morholt declared.

"This should be good," Tristan icily said.

Morholt glared at him but didn't grace the boy with an answer. Instead he started to speak. "It began many years ago with a tribute ship, owed to Anguish by King Mark of Cornwall, that I had gone to collect. On the ship was a pregnant young woman who had been molested by a sailor during a lengthly stopover in England. When the crime was found out, the sailor was swiftly and severely dealt with, though too late to prevent the woman's pregnancy. On the way back to Ireland, she went into labor pains on the sea and gave birth to a child who she named with her dying breath. Servause. The child was lucky to survive. The woman's body was dumped at sea and my men insisted the child join her. After all, we hardly had the amenities needed for childrearing. Especially when the infant was still messy with fluids and now did not even have a mother's milk to feed him. It was a majority that voted to throw the boy into the sea. As I held the newborn, though, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I refused to dispose of him and had all the women brought up to the deck. I questioned each to see if any were producing milk. Finally, a woman whose baby had died only very recently stepped forward, saying she still was. I handed the child off to her and commanded her to take care of it as her first task. She gave him the name Stephen. So the boy grew up in servitude. When he was around age eight, I began to notice his talents. The child's immune system was the stuff of legend. A good thing too, because one day he decided to go gallivanting about in a sick ward filled with patients suffering from a quickly quarantined bout of plague. It seemed he couldn't help but go everywhere you specifically forbade him from going, the little bastard."

Stephen sheepishly grinned, shrugging as Morholt glared at him. "Go on," Carados pressed.

"It was around that time I took him under my wing as a Squire. My last had been killed only recently. Stephen was simply another expendable who would not last long… But he did, and he learned quickly, and he took his duties very seriously. At first, I hardly cared… And then in battle I was very nearly killed, close to death, but the boy came and dragged me into the woods out of sight and pulled me all the way to someplace safe where he was able to tend to my injuries. He nursed me back to health and I was grateful… And then guiltstricken on seeing a little piece of innocence fade away from his eyes… I wondered for how long it had been happening, and I put my foot down. I felt… protective… Something I had never felt before… He was doing everything for me dutifully, as a slave should, as a squire should, and I was doing nothing for him in return. That changed swiftly. It became me protecting him, me tending to his injuries and sicknesses, me returning to him all the respect and duty he had shown to his master… I admit, a paternal chord was struck in me regarding Stephen."

"It was?" Servause asked, looking quickly up with eyes wide.

Morholt 'hmmed' but didn't directly answer. He wasn't admitting as much out loud again. "Then came the assassination attempt by Sir Meliot. Stephen was sleeping outside my door, as he was accustomed to doing. Meliot snuck up and saw him there. Before Meliot could retreat, Stephen awakened and realized what was happening. He leapt up and attacked. Meliot overpowered him swiftly and went to run him through for standing in his way, but I—who had been roused by the noise—came out just then and saw the price my slave and squire was about to pay for me. The paternal chord echoed, and I called out to Meliot to let the child go. 'Here I am,' I said. Meliot paused, looking at me as if confused as to why I was giving myself over for a mere slave. He let Servause go. Stephen attacked again, but I called the boy off and told him to go downstairs. In tears he refused. I assured him it would all be alright. He didn't believe me… And then Meliot began to speak to me in the Gaelic language, a tongue Stephen did not understand well, questioning me as to the actions. We got to speaking, he left without an action more. Some years passed by, the time period Stephen spoke about earlier. When one of my associates decided to play lord and command my slaves to do his bidding down to the most degrading and menial tasks. I was unaware of this. I know now why Stephen never talked to me about what was happening. You are concerned with me overmuch, boy. To your own detriment in fact, and that needs to stop. It will stop. Regardless, what was happening ended in Servause stowing away on a ship for England, leaving me lost as to what to think or do until my associate claimed Stephen had been killed. Servause has spoken about the rest from there."

The others listened quietly, unsure of what to say to this. "I leave off begrudgingly impressed with you, Sir Morholt," Tristan finally remarked, watching the ground which he found suddenly very interesting.

"Why the deceit? Why the trickery? Couldn't you have just asked us to help you find him, sir, instead of lying to us about treasure?" Tor asked.

"The trickery and deceit was meant to make it appear to others as if I had no other reason for coming to this place aside from helping Bagdemagus show up Pellinore. Or in your cases, making it appear that I had no interest in anything other than riches. It was an excuse my household and my associates would believe, and by extension the man who ill-treated Stephen and who seeks him out," Morholt answered.

"Wait, he's here?!" Servause asked, fear springing to his eyes.

"I'm unsure. That was why I needed to find you. To be certain he didn't beat me to you," Morholt said.

The boys looked overwhelmed. Petipace, concerned, seriously said, "I think it's high-time we all turned in. Let's let this sink in tonight. Tomorrow we can make decisions about what to do." The Worcestershire boys said nothing. They just rose and went to their tents.

Pellinore sighed, looked back at Morholt, and nodded. Morholt probably needed to have a long chat with his dorm students, so they would leave him to it. "Stephen, who will you come with?" Pellinore asked.

"I-I'm not sure," the boy answered.

"Perhaps it will be best if you stay with us," Gaheris said. "Morholt knows what's happening better than Pellinore does."

"That might be wisest," Pellinore agreed, nodding.

"A-alright," Servause answered, deeply upset at the possibility his pursuer might be near.

Pellinore nodded. "Tor, Aglovale, Lamorak, Dornar, Percival, don't stay up too late. Get some rest. You'll need it," he said to his sons.

"Yes sir," Percival replied quietly, uncomfortable over everything they were hearing.

KAK

Tor, Aglovale, Percival, and Dornar, like the rests of the students of IAK house, did not in fact get to sleep early. All of them were still awake and lost in thought even after Worcestershire house had all fallen asleep. Servause of course sat amongst them. "So… this has become convoluted," Alexander remarked after a moment.

"You mean Morholt's secrets?" Accolon flatly asked.

"Yes," Alisander grimly confirmed.

"So, let me get this straight. All of this, or most of it, was a huge complicated scheme wrought with risk and danger—at least should this nobleman you speak of happen to show up with backup and try to take Stephen away—and we were kept in the dark until now?" Brandelis summed up, glaring at Morholt.

"I never wanted any of you to become so deeply involved in this," Morholt replied.

"Well we're in it now, and I don't know about anyone else, but I'm up to the challenge. Danger is my middle name," Aglovale declared. Namely because he wouldn't let it be his siblings' middle names.

"No it's not. Your middle name is…" Percival began.

"Say it, I dare you," Aglovale darkly warned his youngest brother. Percival fell silent immediately.

"It's the eye of the tiger it's the thrill of the fight," Ermind sang, parodying Lamorak.

"Thrill, schmill. Ultimately, it's a problem that needs to be dealt with. I'm not about to have my siblings buried neck deep in danger. If things get heated up, you guys stay out of it. Leave the situation to me. I've probably been in worse," Aglovale seriously warned his brothers. Minus Lamorak, who he would be sure to repeat this to tomorrow. All of them looked ready to protest, but Aglovale put up a hand sharply, conveying to them there was no room for argument. They harrumphed but said nothing.

"D-do we even kn-know what t-to look for?" Hoel questioned. Hoel had always been good at quick decision making and strategizing. He was practiced from all those roleplaying games he played with Segwarides, Gures, Xavier, and on occasion Hector. Hector wasn't really all that into roleplaying, but he enjoyed a good geek out session every so often. Actually, Arthur had humored Hoel as well every once in a while. He'd missed his cousin. Family and all that, he guessed. He was glad they were speaking again, but now he was getting sidetracked. Back to the situation at present. "S-seriously, wh-what do we n-need to b-be wary of? We n-need basic details and explanations."

"I'm not sure," Morholt honestly answered. "I just don't know what to expect."

"Regardless, we can count on Worcestershire's help," Bors the Elder said.

"What?!" all the boys, say for Servause, exclaimed in outrage.

"Kind of kills the purpose of a rivalry, don't you think?" Galihoden asked.

"Down," Bagdemagus warned. Galihoden winced and frowned, but backed off a bit.

"Can't believe I'm saying it, but I'm with Galihoden," Accolon stated.

"Worcestershire and IAK have been enemies since we came into existence. It would totally break from tradition to, ugh, 'team up'," Dywel said with a grimace. He, like Ermind, was clinging to Geraint and had hardly let him go since being reverted to human. Or let go of the piece of cloth his brother had given him when he was a… a goblin… He shuddered to remember that detail and tried to will it away by snuggling against his sibling tighter.

"Yeah, what Dywel said," Constantine dryly agreed.

"I say let Worcestershire slum around and stumble over each other. We've got this covered," Dinadan, declared. "We may lose the competition, but we'll have dealt with a way bigger problem. Stephen, stick with us. The losers at Worcestershire will get you killed all the sooner."

"It's not as if we're much better than they are, Dinadan," Geraint seriously pointed out.

"Worcestershire are our rivals," Galeschin stated. "Why do we need to work with them?"

"One way or another, with or without them, we have to figure out what we're going to do. It'll just be easier with Worcestershire on our side," Percival said.

"Look, I don't actually give a flying flip which way we go with this, just as long as we all come out of it alive," Sagramore said.

"Here, here," Erec, aka Geraint, agreed dryly. He looked to the fire and tossed a ball of leaves into it like it was a net. The group watched it burn, really hoping it didn't end up a twisted metaphor for whatever happened next.