Chapter 49
[Outside of the Walls—Ten Minutes Earlier]
Arthur shook his head as Kilgarrah soared over the city walls. While his mind had digested that his servant indeed had magic, he still couldn't believe the sight in front of himself.
…Merlin had commanded a Dragon….a bloody dragon…
…Princess Mithian also had a connection to said Dragon….
…Their magic (they claimed) could turn the tide of battle quickly….
Arthur mused on that point. Magic and the ability to control a dragon? We went on all of those missions. He fought like a regular person. And he could do THIS? He furrowed his brow.
"Incredible, aren't they?" Gwen supposed. Like her husband, she'd mused over the scene in front of herself.
"How many times did he do things like this? I have to wonder," he declared aloud.
"More often than we know, I'm sure. Given how you accused him back in Ealdor years ago, is it any wonder that Merlin hid the truth? I know he cares for us and Camelot. But I remember what you said to him beside the pyre," she reminded him pointedly. "You set a tone for both Merlin AND Morgana that day." She inhaled sharply.
"I was speaking the truth, Guinevere. Sorcery is dangerous!" he protested.
"In the wrong hands, Arthur! Both Merlin and Princess Mithian are trusted allies!" She grabbed his shoulders and stared right into his eyes. "Arthur, you are about to lose them both because of this attitude! Did you not hear Rodor and Elena earlier? That will happen! If you try to forcibly return things to the way they were, you will start the war with Nemeth this time."
"Rodor will understand, Guinevere. You'll see," he insisted stubbornly.
"I fail to see how," she countered while folding her arms firmly across her chest. "You're really going to keep Merlin as your servant against his will?"
"He is my manservant and a servus. If Rodor had knighted him, that would be an act of war. Slighting my prerogative for some misaligned love…."
She arched an ironic eyebrow. "Misaligned love is it? Arthur, what do you call our love? You slighted his prerogative and humiliated Princess Mithian when you cast her aside for me."
"That's different!"
"Is it really? Arthur, Merlin and Mithian are in the same position as we were. The difference is that Uther didn't approve of us. Rodor, on the other hand, gave Merlin his public blessing. I know you rely on Merlin. We all do. But it's not like he's going to the ends of the world…unless you drive him there with your attitude," she recalled tersely. "And what about Gawain? Have you thought about him?"
"He's loyal to me."
"Yes but you're antagonizing him as well. Arthur, in case you haven't noticed, he's really fallen for Mithian's companion…that new knight, Lady Britomart. What if he goes to Nemeth? Are you ready for that? He is a free man. He can go that way," she pointed out.
Arthur felt a fuse burning in his head.
"On the other hand, let's say we all survive the battle. You let Merlin go to Nemeth. Gawain, whether he's here or there, remains a friend. No matter how small that kingdom is, it will be potent." Seeing his frown deepening, she grinned. "Oh I get it. What if Merlin were to become king and Mithian queen?" She smirked mischievously.
"Guinevere, really! Merlin's still my servant! Quit spouting such rubbish!"
Before they could continue the debate, the entire camp shook. A loud explosion echoed back from Camelot itself.
"What now? What's going on in there?" Arthur demanded. Seeing Elyan galloping toward him on horseback, he straightened himself. "Ho, Elyan! What just happened?"
"Milord and Lady! The gates just exploded open unbidden! It was miraculous!" Elyan announced while rubbing his aching ears.
She chuckled. "Miraculous or magical? Seems that they've just given us the way in."
He shrugged before pulling on his helmet. "Stay here, Guinevere! I'll be back!" He quickly mounted his horse and rode up to where Rodor awaited him. "King Rodor, it's time!"
"It is indeed! Merlin and Mithian do their task well." He lowered his helmet's visor. "Arthur, call the charge."
"Time to reassert ourselves!" Arthur drew his sword. "FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT!" He spurred his horse onward galloping toward the gate.
"I'll be right there with him, Queen Guinevere. Don't worry," Rodor vowed before riding off in the younger man's wake. Have a care, Arthur. Bad enough Kay and Mithian are stuck in the midst of this fray, we cannot risk the entire future on a stray arrow or sword thrust!
Before him, he witnessed the mixed banners of Bors the Elder and the Amazons pouring through the gate. He imagined that more of their knights did the same through the western one as well. Hopefully Meleagant sees reason and surrenders in short order! He looked around for one of his counterparts. Then, at the tail of the blue banners, he found the Gallic Prince. "Prince Bors!"
Bors raised his standard in acknowledgment of Rodor. "King Rodor! My knights advance into the city! Queen Elena leads her own troops through the dungeons! We will find Prince Kay and your own knights! It seems Merlin and your daughter do their work well."
"As I just pointed out to Arthur," Rodor concurred with both pride and satisfaction. "Follow me!" He rode into the city on the heels of the Gallic influx.
Before the combined forces, the townspeople cheered. They waved their own tools and implements accompanied by chants of "LONG LIVE KING ARTHUR! LONG LIVE KING ARTHUR!"
"SECURE THE LOWER TOWN!" Bors commanded his troops. "TAKE THE ENEMY ALIVE! I DO NOT WISH POINTLESS SLAUGHTER!"
While some wished further chances at valor and redemption, the Gallic knights followed their Prince's command. They rode through the area investigating every corner and hiding place. Some talked with the townspeople and checked their houses.
"Roget!" Bors insisted.
"Yes, Milord?" a strapping rogue haired man replied presently from his own horse.
"Ride through to the west gate. Relay my order to the men there! Make haste, my friend!" Bors insisted.
"I shall! Be safe, my Liege!" Roget sent his own steed skirting around the upper town toward the other gate.
"Any thoughts, King Rodor?" Bors queried deferring the moment to his more experienced counterpart.
"We secure the Lower Town so that the Cawdorians and their recruits cannot be at our backs. Once that is secure, we do the same with the Upper Town and then the citadel itself," Nemeth's king noted sagely.
Almost on cue, Malodius' ferocious roar echoed over the din from the Upper Town.
"By God's troth!" Prince Bors stared in wonder.
Rodor allowed an admiring smile. "It seems our knights have engaged Meleagant's forces, Prince Bors. Those knights have now seen Malodius' paws and teeth. Pity them."
By now, Bors had collected himself with the reminder of the magical lion's valor and skill. "Aye. And our other allies stand with him. So shall we! Take care, King Rodor. Your people rely on you!" he insisted while charging up the cobbled causeway toward the melee.
I would say the same of you, Prince Bors. Rodor followed closely behind feeling eager to defeat their enemies and bring matters under control…..
[Upper Town—Ten Minutes Earlier]
Much as some feared and dreaded, the standoff brewed beside the citadel. Tensions and anger ran high. Weapons remained brandished and ready for use.
On the one side, a good portion of the townspeople (other than those remained behind in the Lower Town) surged into the square intent on an uprising such as the later Jacquerie or Great Uprising of centuries to come. The exasperated citizens bellowed their rage at the usurpers for taking control of their lives, deposing their king and damaging their precious order….
…for the third time in a decade, a Morgana-led usurpation had disrupted their lives and threatened everything they held dear….
…for the third time, their king stood on the outside looking in…
…well, they were sick of the situation…
…they wanted their lives and ruler back….
On the other side, the Cawdorian knights stood firmly entrenched around the governing structure. The guards who'd rushed there from the upper ramparts and causeways collected themselves. They huffed short ragged breaths. Despite their own fears, they held their swords and crossbows ready for use against the rising tide across the stones from themselves…..
…for the second time in four days, a flood threatened to swamp them….
…for the second time in four days, they would hold true to their oaths.
…they'd die for their king…
…Rock meet Hard Place….
One particularly intransigent knight strode forward. Sir Ranulf had served Meleagant for much of the previous decade and a half rising from a boy barely able to raise a sword. He'd stood in the face of hopeless odds and spat into them without fear or hesitation. He'd raised the banner over the rubble of conquered cities and taken his share of spoils. Now he stood in the midst of his personal trophy, Camelot.
He wasn't about to let up…again.
He pointed toward the mob and proclaimed angrily, "Citizens of Camelot! Disperse now or be dealt with! THIS IS YOUR WARNING!"
"LONG LIVE KING ARTHUR AND QUEEN GUINEVERE!" the crowd chanted over and over again. Their refrain grew louder and louder with each chorus. "GO HOME, CAWDOR!" They took a step forward.
"PRESENT ARMS!" Ranulf ordered his comrades as professionally and cool a manner as possible. "CITIZENS, DISPERSE! ANY MORE RESISTANCE WILL BE MET WITH FORCE! PLEASE DISPERSE AND GO HOME!"
At that moment, a particularly ominous shadow blocked out the sun momentarily shading the entire area.
"DRAGON!" The townspeople froze in place momentarily. They stared aghast at the sky not knowing how the creature had returned to rain further vengeance down on Camelot. They knew their weapons wouldn't make a bit of difference against the massive creature. Still they didn't want to end up well done either….
Then the sonic boom rang their ears and disoriented both sides. The cobbles shook from the impact. The wood, mud and straw structures stressed to stay erect; the lesser-quality ones collapsing into rubble. Even the castle and citadel itself shuddered under the sorcerous assault.
"MORGANA PENDRAGON, SHOW YOURSELF! FIGHT FAIRLY, YOU WITCH!" an elderly woman bellowed from the background.
The Cawdorians, on the other hand, remembered their standoff at Whitgate. They well knew that the now banished priestesses had nothing to do with this particular assault. They still recalled how the majestic being alighting overhead had dispersed them with fire and swipes of its mighty tail bowling them over like so many pins in a bowling alley….
…they were in no mood for Round 2….
As with the townspeople, several of the knights hesitated and for good reason….
Seeing Kilgarrah alighting on the balcony to let Merlin and Mithian off, Ranulf ordered, "SIZE UP THAT BEAST AND BRING IT DOWN!"
Per his command, the subordinates turned away from the mob while projecting where the next flight would be. Accordingly the few knights with longbows aimed their shafts skyward.
Kilgarrah, seeing this and being no fool, flew over the citadel using the balcony and building as cover from the potential assault. He roared defiantly at the army. As if they think I'm going to be their target? HRUMPH! Let them deal with the others!
"BLAST!" Ranulf barked in disgust. He rubbed the burns and wounds inflicted by Kilgarrah's assault at Whitgate to stoke his own inner determination. "KEEP WATCHING! IT MAY COME BACK!"
Unfortunately for them, one of the mob fatefully picked up a stone and threw it at the Cawdorians.
Several other Camelotians followed suit, raining refuse and punishment upon the invaders. From their hands, other stones, knives, mallets and more than a few crossbow bolts streaked toward their adversaries wounding several targets before the shields took the remaining brunt.
"FINE! LOOSE!" Ranulf growled and motioned toward the mob. He hoped that a few arrows and crossbow bolts would instruct the rabble well.
The knights fired their weapons into the surging mob delivering flesh wounds for the most part. A few citizens fell to the stones writhing in agony and pain.
"BACK, YOU DOGS! GET BACK!" the commanding knight bellowed at the rioters. "ANOTHER VOLLEY! FIRE!"
At that moment, a loud roar pierced the air.
"What now? The bloody dragon again! I…" Ranulf started. His eyes went wide. He just raised his sword to deflect Ywain's swiping blade.
Malodius rushed toward the scene at full sprint. Tensing his legs, he launched himself through the air. As he landed, the lion dropped its shoulder effectively splintering the Cawdorians' defensive formation. His paws swiped out this way and that rending wounds in the enemy and spreading them out.
Behind the magical beast, his allies along with the Amazons and Gallic knights rushed onto the scene.
The townspeople fell back noting that the newcomers had the invaders in their sights. They recognized Gawain of course figuring that anybody with him was a friend to them all.
"Save some for us, Blood Lion!" Gawain declared pointedly while crossing blades with one of the other knights.
"Can't you ever stop talking?" Britomart complained while knocking a blade from another knight's hand and delivering a right cross to his nose.
"Hey! It's me!" Gawain knocked another enemy out with the flat of his sword. Still, despite his bravado, he determined to prove himself to her further.
"I'd say that of both of you!" the Black Knight hissed in irritation. His sword streaked through the knights cutting swaths in their numbers.
"Lighten up, Sir Tristan! They get the job done," Isolde defended their friends while parrying with still another knight.
Her lover stabbed another adversary trying to sneak up on her. "And some of us have to cover each other's back." He smirked at the blonde. "That's a mark for me."
"We're even. Keep going!" Isolde noted; her face knotted in determination as her sword stabbed into another foe.
"Surrender now, Cawdorian! You're outnumbered!" Ywain directed his counterpart over the clanging of their clashing blades.
Ranulf grunted an unintelligible response allowing his blade to ring Ywain's particularly hard. His loyalty and honor blocked any option other than victory for him and his men. Still other noises from the Lower Town caught his attention.
Cheers echoed from the townspeople down there….
More feet pounding the stones.
More hooves clapping against the granite….
"FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT!" Arthur bellowed leading Bors, Rodor and the remaining knights into the square. Their numbers rushed down upon the enemies cutting off their avenues of escape rapidly before the latter could do anything.
"Surrender and keep your lives at least!" Rodor directed firmly. "Your master leads you astray! Lay down your arms! There can be no victory! Do not tempt fate!"
The occupying knights clearly saw the overwhelming odds increasing by the second. The sea of armor only deepened as seemingly more knights flooded the area with each passing heartbeat. Their own numbers dwindled from the ceaseless assaults.
Among the blue and green banners, the yellow lion rampant on its crimson background flew in their eyes symbolizing the rightful rulers' return to the city….
"As King Rodor advised, this is YOUR LAST CHANCE, Men of Cawdor! Lay down your arms and surrender! You will save your own lives!" Arthur offered backing up Rodor's earlier claim.
Ywain feinted drawing the enemy commander in. Evading the other's wild stabbing, he gashed the other's sword arm and then held the blade to the other's throat. "You heard them. Call the surrender. You cannot win."
The Head Cawdorian scowled. His arm burned from the wound. He slowly lifted his blade but found it difficult to maneuver it adroitly. "So be it, Nemethian." He dropped his sword indignantly at the other's feet and stepped back from it. He looked to his men. "Put down your swords! This battle is over!"
"Thank you, Sir Ranulf," Rodor expressed while picking up the weapon. "Tis a pity we have to meet at crossed swords like this."
"Pity the witches did not do their job better, Rodor of Nemeth. If so, we'd rule here and in Nemeth. Speaking of witches, how's the former Princess faring? Still looking at the peasant?" Ranulf retorted angrily adding the insult toward the senior monarch.
"The peasant, as you put it, has put us in position twice to defeat you. He is a thousand times the man you are now. I am proud of him as I am of Princess Mithian and Prince Kay," Rodor pointed out.
"For now, Sir Ranulf, I believe you and your men are heading for my dungeon," Arthur indicated pointedly. He motioned to his knights. "Secure the surviving Cawdorians and take them to the cells. We'll deal with them fairly after Meleagant's been brought to task."
"Speaking of the Red Knight, where is he?" Ywain queried.
"Hunting for the witches," Ranulf guessed disrespectfully. "He will deal with them! Enjoy your victory, Rodor! It will destroy you!"
"Get him from my sight!" Arthur ordered indignantly. He stewed over the defeated knight's attitude. What has come of chivalry and honor? Have we forgotten everything?
"Perhaps you might wish to lead us into the citadel, Arthur Pendragon?" Queen Elena supposed. Her face had several soot streaks darkening her features. Scratches marred her armor and arms. Seeing his surprised look, she scoffed, "What? Just because I was a maid does not mean I am not a warrior. Look to Queen Guinevere as your example before you judge. We are who we are in the moment. Today you fought well and like a king. Let us see what remains. Shall we?"
"Aye. We shall," Arthur accepted. "One moment however." He turned to the huddled citizens who stood on the sidelines. "Citizens of Camelot! We have won a great battle with the aid of our friends today! My heart is gladdened that you are here with us! Thank you for your loyalty! However the task is not finished! Meleagant must be contained! Know that I will not rest nor will our friends rest until Camelot is secure!" He raised his sword. "FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT!"
"FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT!" the crowd and his knights chorused triumphantly.
"FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT!" Arthur reiterated.
"FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT!" the crowd bellowed back even more enthusiastically.
Arthur nodded in thanks for their loyalty. "Now, my friends, we have a citadel to secure. For the people's sake, we have order to restore."
"Now that is a noble cause indeed," Bors concurred as they all headed into the granite fortress.
However, what would they find? Would they be too late? That would be telling….