the third addition to Elaina of Camelot.

see 'the beginning' and,

'along comes gwaine' for a catch up.

the story continues...


Thomas's finger followed the shape of the branding on his arm. The company had never truly recovered after the run in with the prince of Camelot. The young prince had taken down some of his best men, those who he had been instructed to bring by that damn witch, the lady morgana.

The feather branding scorched onto his skin when he first joined the group. He had been a young lad but proved after years defending himself on the streets that he had willpower and an iron fist to back him up.

You had to be cunning too to survive among the filth of the earth who wouldn't blink twice in selling you into slavery while you slept, or lace you're scraps with poison to give your body to a mad physician. of course, you can't escape it all being just one person and sooner or later he eventually did fall into what might have been further misfortune and possibley death. only when thrown into the fighting pits, he managed to kill both mangy dog and man with nothing but a wooden sword and determination.

So, they took him in as one of their own to train up some more and gamble on his fighting skills to bring in coin. That coin bought weapons and provided a living for the members who could then feel safe in their new kit, to take on more dangerous jobs that paid handsomely. Thomas himself was a quick learner and through observation of past plans and his surroundings, picking up on the abilities among his ranks that could be utilised better in their roles during their work, he was the one to come up with the best strategies to make them a success and revered throughout the land.

It wasn't long after that he became the newly elected leader, from street urchin to something more worthwhile. However, seems his luck has run out now…

They had called themselves the phoenixes. the feather a symbol of being able to rise from the ashes, if they carried enough willpower that is. Only, it seemed many of those he had called brothers had forgotten that life lesson and after their defeat, chose to abandon Thomas and their group. Their faithlessness in his ability that he could bring them out from the darkness had caused a deep hatred in Thomas and those who had turned their backs on him, didn't make it far...

It was a small blessing though, because now those who were left, he could count on to be truly loyal, despite their reputation being tarnished.

After their failed assassination attempt on Arthur Pendragon, news got out to morgana's sister. He only knew that is who she was as the maddened sorceress proclaimed it so, owning up to another name who shared her blood, which unfortunately Thomas had stabbed after she got in the way of the fatal blow he meant for the prince. Angered by his mistake, even though the blame should be at both his AND her sister's door, Morgause trespassed on their hideout and burnt it to the ground, taking out whoever got in her way.

They had nothing to their name now and Thomas was struggling with his inspiration to rebuild, after having come so far to end up at the bottom again. it was a true test of his strength, one he worried to fail in.

"hey, Thomas!" the voice was low and gravely, belonging to a man who had been part of the company since it's conception. Used to speaking in whispers, Otto was the lookout and had been since the skin on his face was far smoother, rather than how it was now when it hung off of bone loosely. Small in height and width, he blended in with the shadows and was awful light on his feet, being lookout for so many years had added qualities to his character, such as being able to move in stealth and silence, that made him hard to detect.

Thomas turned on the boulder he was perched on, which acted as his pillow too come the night, though he hardly slept since the incident which brought their downfall. It was like he could not permit himself to feel comfort when his men had suffered such a defeat. Needing every annoyance like this rock to jab him, to provoke him to seek out a path to lead them from this misery.

It was he and merely a handful of men, Otto included, who now resided in this cave which had become their home momentarily. It was a haven as there were many enemies, jealous from their past success who wished to see them rid of once and for all, while also nestled near a main road. In that sense it let them watch out for signs of wealthy travellers they could use for ransom or steal their goods for profit. Yet, it was a slow process, since Thomas did not want to risk losing more than he had, so they had to be careful in their choice of precious cargo.

"what is it?" he asked, wanting the specifics and something worthwhile rather than this just being an exchange of pleasantries.

"three riders. Two wagons. They're decked up in riches, one wagon the same, whilst the other is hauling a prisoner."

That piqued his interest as it was an odd combination, so Thomas gave it some more attention and the old man led him to the break in the foliage to see for himself. They had stopped to enjoy some refreshments, honey cake and ale, that made Thomas's stomach growl wildly like a bear.

"A rich merchant and his guards?" Thomas asked, pondering over their identity.

The old man replied, "we can sit in wonder all day, but there's only one way to find out. He ain't got no armour on, one arrow and he's a goner."

Thomas nodded in agreement and clutched the hilt of his sword, "then I'll take the guards from behind. Whoever is in the prison wagon, might be a new friend for us to keep, depending on the crime."

Both wrapped their faces up with black cloth, a signature habit they did to protect their identities in case they ever fancied a walk among the cities without being identified as wanted criminals. In any case, normally they did not leave any survivors to tell the tale but after past experiences, mistakes could clearly be made.

Thomas climbed over to the opposite side of the road, careful not to make a sound or startle the horses. The prison wagon had no bars so they couldn't alert anybody if for some reason they wanted to, and he waited on the old man to give the signal of a bird call whistling three times. After a few minutes the first echoed out, with the men none the wiser, then the second, then the third.

Suddenly an arrow shot through the air and with a keen eye for his age, the old man never missed and pierced the victim in all his finery, straight in the heart. He had barely hit the dirt when Thomas launched out from his hiding spot, his impressive form bewildering his opponents as they scrambled to unsheathe their swords. They were fit young lads, but so very green, Thomas could smell that they had not known bloodshed and easily with two strikes did away with them both, to fall beside their master.

The old man would have been prepped with another arrow in case Thomas needed the help, but soon after not needing it, he joined Thomas who was not even out of breath.

While he had waited on him, he did quickly scan the now dead men, checking their pockets for anything that might indicate who they were and ultimately what they could offer them.

"this one ain't no mere merchant," Thomas muttered, pointing at the crest on the man's cloak. Woven with a falcon, he was nobility from a kingdom in the far north, house Amsberg. They had stolen from them plenty enough to know the Sigel and had done their own digging to assess the threat when they were at their peak. The young man, now dead at their feet, was self-made after his family was wiped out from plague. His men only paid to serve and not by any sworn oath like most nobles. News of his death would see them scatter for other means of income surely.

Thomas explained this to Otto, he already knowing this of course, but neither had met the lad face to face until now and he was not what they had expected. More like a minstrel and they were dainty as daisies, singing sweet poetry and oblivious to the misery in this world, choosing to look out on it as if an innocent babe.

Otto spat with disgust that the boy was what was regarded as the finest the land had to offer to domineer over others like themselves, "he doesn't look as though he's ever gotten a speck of dirt on him."

staring at him splayed out on the ground with an arrow stuck out his chest, Thomas added while searching his pockets, "well, he does now."

A few coins, a comb and a letter were all he produced on his person and Thomas opened it presuming Amsberg was transporting the wagons, including the prisoner, for money, in which case they could do on their behalf, seeing as they were dead.

Thomas unfolded the parchment he thought may give him further indicator of where Amsberg was going however, it was impossible not to take heed of the broken seal. He lined the thick wax up to see the stamp better and with a snigger, showed it to the old man.

"a dragon?" he confirmed with Thomas.

That only meant one kingdom and Thomas hastily got to reading the contents,

'Dear sir Erik of Amsberg. I write to further our correspondence on a most delicate manner. Having long admired your story well you know, I am happy to confirm that a union between your house and that of my wards, Elaina, would be an honour. You're intended I can assure, carries a most handsome dowry and with that comes a position to be offered within my court as her husband with a stately home to call your own. As her guardian I believe this to be a most appropriate match for both your social standings, that might produce in the long run a strong bloodline to follow after between house Amsberg and Gorlois. As such, I invite you to Camelot to finally meet and assess the intended bride for yourself, whereby I hope to host a most happy wedding ceremony. Sincerely, King Uther Pendragon'

Thomas's eyes glistened with a plan formulating in his brain, as it would be a damn shame to leave a business like Amsberg's to ruin without someone to succeed him. in his world, it is the winner who takes the spoils of the defeated, whatever they may be.

The letter did not finish there, and Thomas continued reading, 'PS. I am most grateful for the great service you have done in capturing the wanted man. He is no innocent and if our intentions are to go ahead, he would only stand in our way, having developed a fondness for your betrothed due to her gracious behaviour towards him. As such he will be brought to justice as a criminal of Camelot for his insolence and I appreciate the inconvenience in you bringing him here, which of course I shall reward in more than just a bride.'

Unable to stop himself, Thomas laughed manically as though giddy from ale. he doubled over holding his sides with the ache from his own amusement, while Otto stared in confusion. The pendragons had a part in their misfortune, the lady morgana one such ward, though fortunately not the bride in question, thus she can see as he rises amongst her court unbeknownst to her, his true identity. Who knew favour would be restored to them, by the very royals he was once hired to destroy.

"what is going on Thomas, have you finally cracked?"

Wiping away the tears, his jaw throbbing from smiling, Thomas wandered to the noble's belongings, finding an ornate chest which he pried open with his blade breaking the lock, to spill out some pristine clothes. It would be a tight squeeze to fit into them, but he picked out what he thought would work best.

Otto had followed along, not making any sense of what was going on until Thomas handed over the letter.

"…it seems I am to come into a life of leisure, and I shan't go anywhere without my dear advisor."

He waited until the old man grinned back at him, the mystery finally dissolving.

"what do you say, fancy a more permanent visit to Camelot?"