Ok, you're probably surprised with how I mysteriously disappeared for God knows how long and came back like it never happened. Let's just say that school's a bitch.
Anyways. This isn't about me anymore. This is about our main characters and their comrades. Who are currently in the woods trying to escape the Saxon Lord Horsa's men. With Mordred and Levi doing the rear guard action while Faust and Archer lead the others to safety. But how did we get here? What caused the Saxon lord to attack our protagonists like this? And how will our heroes escape the jaws of inevitable death?
To understand how we got to this moment, we need to rewind.
(Credits to Secret Base where it is due.)
SWING! SLASH! SWOOP!
"Huh, you're not half-bad after all!"
"I aim to please, Sir Mordred."
"Well, you're gonna have to up your game if you wanna beat me Levi. Now, TAKE THIS!"
"Woah!"
As the Captain walked towards a seated Archer who was watching the 'friendly' spar, he took a moment to reminisce as he gazed upon the afternoon sky. It's been a full 2 weeks since the Camelotians departed from Weymouth and a full 4 days since disembarking from the Abomination. So fast was the journey thatCaptain Faust, when he stepped into the Port of Tilbury, exclaimed how incredibly fast the journey was.
4 days ago.
"Usually, voyages last weeks. Or even months when delay is accounted for. But to get here in a mere week's time is remarkable!"
"It was supposed to be shorter, in fact." Corvus side-commented as he walked to the Captain's side with his satchel in hand. "We were meant to dock at the South end of Prittenwell. But the port that was big enough to dock the ship was destroyed by a powerful storm. So, we had to add another day or two to our voyage."
Now.
Currently. The Saxons and the Camelotians have set up camp beside a river. The locals call it the River Crouch. It's a long river. One that can take you straight to sea if you follow the right direction. Ships of all sizes can get in and out of it. (The Abomination does not count due to the fact that there isn't any port that can harbour her within said river.) Which makes it very valuable to the eyes of merchants and traders. But it's a hassle when it comes to moving people from one side of the river to the other. Especially armies like the one the Camelotians were with.
"I heard talks that it'll take a few days to rebuild the bridge." Captain Faust remarked to the redhead as he sat down. They were currently watching Mordred and Levi spar along the riverbank. The Red Knight was pent up due to the inability to duel on board the ship and wanted to release some steam. The Lieutenant obliged somewhat unwillingly.
"I heard some too." Archer replied as he looked to the workmen rebuilding the broken down bridge. "But that's just some false rumours. The worst it can be is half a day. The bridge can't be that long to require a few days to rebuild."
As the redhead finished talking, he heard a slight chuckle from the Captain. Looking up to where Faust is, Archer saw him smile. Archer was about to ask why the Captain was smiling cryptically, but was silenced when said person suddenly spoke.
"You overestimate the engineering capabilities of the Saxons." Faust calmly told the redhead as he watched one of the Saxon workmen fall into the river below. "Soon, you will see why they are merely known for their warriors and nothing else."
Silently accepting the words of the man beside him, Archer then focused on the fight happening below.
…..
SWING! SLASH! CLASH!
"Stop running away!"
Mordred screamed as she charged head on towards the Lieutenant. Who hastily went into a defensive stance. The Red Knight was like a fierce, unrelenting lion whose every move displayed her dominance over prey. But Levi was no slouch to let the Red Knight dominate him like that. As soon as Rhindon grazed his sword, Levi proceeded to redirect it to his left side. A move which Mordred seamlessly parried with a high right kick aiming for the Lieutenant's head. In reaction to that, Levi brought his right arm up to soften the blow. But that was not enough. Since the kick knocked him off his feet and forced him to eat dirt.
"Had enough?" Mordred taunted as she rested Rhindon on her shoulder. Levi can't tell, but underneath her helmet, the Red Knight had a toothy grin on her face. But even with the helmet blocking the way, the Lieutenant can feel the predatory gaze that Mordred was emitting.
"You don't pull your punches. Do you, Sir Mordred?" Levi asked as he got back on his feet. "While it is an honour to be sparring with you. I can't help but be afraid for my life."
"Don't worry. I won't kill you." Mordred said as she swung her sword haphazardly towards her sparring opponent.
"You know, when I agreed to this 'spar'. I expected that we would use it to stay sharp. You know, like a normal spar would. But no, Sir Mordred. I feel like I could die by just one of your attacks!" Levi remarked as he reformed his stance.
"Aww, don't be a pussy." Mordred calmly retorted in dismissal. "I already said that I'll go easy on you. So relax~."
"NOW TAKE THIS!"
"AGHH!"
As soon as she shouted, Mordred sprung like a cheetah and raced towards Levi. As she got close enough for striking range, she proceeded to chip away the Lieutenant's defences. Using a fast punch, a swift kick, and a quick slash from Rhindon. All of them were aimed towards Levi's chest in order to knock him down once more. But it was carefully countered by the Lieutenant.
The attacks she dished out were not as brutal as she usually dealt to her enemies. But it still hurts. A lot. And it can be seen in Levi's tired and pained expression. But the Lieutenant pushed on and went on a counter attack.
Once he parried Rhindon, Levi used all the strength he had to spare and swiped Mordred's sword-wielding arm away from her body using his left forearm in order to make his next move more effective. He proceeded to thrust his sword towards Mordred's chest with a speed that amazed even the Red Knight herself. She was so surprised by the speed of the thrust that she didn't have any time to bring up Rhindon to defend. Resulting in her chest armour being grazed by Levi's sword. The Lieutenant proceeded to retreat by a few steps and stopped until he had a respectable distance from Mordred.
"Not bad, Levi. Not bad." Mordred complimented as she brushed off the scratch on her armour. And after that, she vanished.
The Red Knight reappeared in front of the Lieutenant and attempted to bisect the man. But Levi recovered quick enough to deflect the attack. But his right arm was grazed by Rhindon in the process. Mordred saw the blood on her sword and proceeded to strike Levi where he was at his weakest. His right side.
But Levi was prepared for it. With every fierce attack he encountered, he perfectly deflected them. He couldn't block them, since his opponent's the physical embodiment of an unstoppable force. So, deflection is his best bet at surviva- uh, I mean. Winning.
Meanwhile, watching from afar. Archer was intently watching the spar very carefully. He was amazed at how much power and speed Mordred has even when holding back. The redhead was equally, if not more, impressed at how long Levi is holding up against the likes of the Red Knight. It's no easy feat to stay competitive in a fight against a Knight of the Round for long. So to see the Lieutenant last this long is impressive.
"That boy's all grown up." Faust proudly said. Which caused Archer to look towards the Captain's direction. "Trained him as best as I could. He was rough on the edges when he first started out. And he had the attitude that came with it. The boy had the audacity to challenge me in a duel back then. What a sorry sight he was after it. And look at him now! Facing the likes of Mordred of the Round."
"You talk as if you were his father watching his son." Archer teased lightly.
"It's strange that I keep hearing that. You're definitely not the first to say that to me." Faust remarked as he looked down towards the fight. "Then again, I may have shown my… 'partiality' when it comes to my soldiers and Levi a few times here and there."
"But moving on from that. Levi has the makings of a great soldier. Calm in the face of battle, cool in the midst of chaos, and like a mountain in the face of a great storm. To see him stand and fight against a foe like a Knight of the Round is proof of that."
'I think he doesn't realize that Mordred's been holding back this entire time…' Archer thought as he looked away from the Captain.
CLANG!
Just as the Captain finished his monologue, a metal shard from out of nowhere flew straight towards the area where Archer and Faust were. Using his inhuman reflexes, the redhead sprung into action and brought his right arm out to catch the shard before it hit either of them.
"That was… impressive." Said Captain Faust in awe as he watched the redhead sit back down.
"That was nothing. Just lucky, that's all." Archer replied as he tossed aside the metal object.
"Are you both ok?" Levi shouted as he and Mordred ran towards (Well, Mordred simply walked) towards the pair. His voice filled with concern. In his hand was what used to be his sword. Now it was just a hilt and half a blade.
"I didn't expect that my sword was going to break like that." Levi added
"Heh. Even when I'm holding back, I'm still awesome." Mordred smugly boasted as she set Rhindon on her shoulder.
"Your 'awesomeness' almost cost someone's eye." Archer told Mordred. "You should know better than to be that reckless."
"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'll even pay for the repairs if you want." Mordred said as she pointed at Levi's sword.
"No need for that, Sir Mordred. I have a spare that I can replace this with. Besides, it's just a normal sword." Levi replied.
"Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah." Mordred said as she grabbed the Lieutenant's shoulder, "A promise is a promise. I'll repay you somehow for that sword. You earned it through sparring with me. And if it ain't through repairs, then I guess beer will do."
"Since when was a promise like that made?" Levi thought out loud.
"Since I set my damn mind on it, that's when! Now shut up and let me give you a drink… you deserve it after all ." Mordred replied. With the last part in a softer tone than the first part.
And so, the pair set off for the camp. Where the Saxons have currently set up a makeshift pub but without a roof. Much to the amusement of the redhead and the Captain.
"Mordred of the Round being considerate… impossible." Faust said with a hint of surprise in his voice.
"That's how 'he' is. 'He' can never seem to be honest with 'himself'. Especially when it comes to treating others." Archer commented alongside the Captain.
'But I wonder what she'll do with Levi?' Archer thought to himself as he and the Captain quietly walked back the same way Mordred and the Lieutenant did, 'I just hope that she doesn't go overboard.'
Meanwhile…
"…"
As Archer facepalmed at the sight of what he was seeing, he began thinking up a plan to get Mordred and Levi away from the Saxon soldiers before someone gets killed. Before all this, the 4 Camelotians were at the western side of the camp, where all the food and kegs were kept. A bunch of logs were made as temporary seats for the people getting their rations and alcohol in. With campfires placed near the logs. There were 2 log-seats that were empty and were facing an already lit campfire that was suitably distant from the rest of the logs. Guess what the Camelotians chose to sit on
Many Saxon soldiers were present at the moment joyfully enjoying their food while having a drinking match amongst themselves. While Faust and Archer stayed quiet and slowly drank their shares, Mordred gulped it all like it was nothing. Archer didn't realise it until it was too late, but Mordred drank too much without him realising it. Maybe he didn't see her go and get some more beer. Maybe he was too preoccupied with his thoughts to not focus on his immediate surroundings. Whatever it may be, the end result of his negligence is the fact that Mordred is drunk. And that's just the beginning.
The Red Knight's drunken self was much like her sober self but more loudmouthed and aggressive than usual (If that was even possible, Archer thought.). She was basically blabbering about anything she thought was funny and laughed loudly at it. In her drunken state, Mordred think's everything is fine-
"D-didya knooowww about how stoooooo-pid Lancelot looked when he saw a girl in Galalad - Galalad? Galadad? No…no… that's not right… Galahad! Right, right, that shield virgin. That motherfucker thought he could get rid of his cherry by bringing in a hooker! Ha! The nerve of that sonofabitch. To bring a whore in the castle itself. The best part is that Galagad gawt caught! Awwwww if only I painted that moment, you would've believed me. HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA!... *hick*... Hey look at that saxon bastard, he's…"
- Well, to the Red Knight everything seemed wonderful. But to Levi, that was another story. Levi spent the entire time trying not to vomit out the beer he just drank since Mordred kept slamming her hand on his back whenever she was laughing at something. This time, she was intent on making fun of the Saxon soldiers drunkenly fighting each other whilst flailing their arms as well as roaring as the Red Knight watched them collapse after they drank a sheer amount of alcohol, the Red Knight kept howling in a drunken type of laughter while assaulting the poor Lieutenant.
And it was because of this that trouble sprung up.
Levi lost his hold of his mug as Mordred's hand slapped him for the umteenth time. At the same time, one of the wrestling Saxons fell back first to the ground near Levi. As fate would have it, the mug and beer fell onto the Saxon's face. Knocking him out and literally drowning the man in beer.
"Alhmund!" the drunk man who punched him to the ground shouted as he stumbled towards the fallen Saxon. "You… you bastard! How could you do this to him!"
"Yer' punch't 'im, dick 'ead!" Mordred told the man who was basically cradling 'Alhmund' with a slur in her speech.
"He was my friend! And now he's dead!" the drunk Saxon shouted to his equally drunken brothers. Blatantly ignoring Mordred's statement.
"He's not dead. He's just knocked ou-" Levi was suddenly lifted from the ground by the drunk Saxon from the collar and subsequently thrown aside onto a bush.
"Asshole!" Mordred shouted as she retaliated with an uppercut that sent the drunk Saxon a few feet from the ground. She proceeded to dish out the worst beatdown of the drunk man's life.
This was the spark needed to ignite a huge brawl. As the Saxons fought each other without a care in the world, Archer was there sitting beside Faust as he wondered how the hell did things come to this. Damn his E rank luck!
In a fluid motion, the redhead stood up and immediately ran towards where Mordred was and bluntly knocked her out and got her away from the offending Saxon who threw Levi on a bush. Speaking of, Levi was already taken care of by the Captain. With the two idiots - uh, I mean knights in safe hands, Archer and Faust went their way to their tent.
To this day, no one knew how the brawl started.
Midnight. A few hours after the brawl…
Archer couldn't sleep. He was too paranoid for such a thing. He was inside enemy lines. Literally within their camp, nonetheless. Not to mention the fact that he was a mix of a servant and human; hence the decreased need for sleep. So, he decided to use his restlessness for the benefit of Camelot through spying on his enemies. Something that isn't quite in his resume, but hey. First time for everything.
Since counter-espionage wasn't a thing in the 6th century, spying became quite an easy thing to do for the redheaded Bowman. Not to mention the fact that to the Saxons, Archer was just taking an evening stroll. Nothing uncommon with the mercenaries they have worked with.
This mindset will be their downfall.
The first place Acher thought of to gather information was Corvus. Ever since their encounter on the Abomination. He's been singing like a bird. Always giving updates and news whenever he got it. The most important news Corvus delivered were two things: A delegation from Camelot arrived in the city Londinium just a few days ago in order to negotiate measures to maintain peace between the Saxons and Londinium. The other is that a special guest was rumoured to be meeting Horsa anytime soon. While there isn't anything he could do with this information yet, it's still an important thing to remember.
'Time for a visit.' Archer thought as he decided to try and find the man. Which is a problem since the redhead doesn't know where to start. The redhead was at the path that leads near the northern part of the camp, where the armoury was placed. And it didn't seem like the man he was looking for was there. Corvus could be anywhere, after all. What with his responsibilities and everything. He was about to turn back towards the western side of the camp, thinking that he would have more luck in searching for Corvus there. It was at this moment he heard a pair of voices up ahead.
"Oi! Ahlmund. Is this the tent that Sir Corvus told us to guard?"
"No, you dumbwit. It's on the other side of the camp. We literally just came from his tent and told us where to go!"
"Oh. my bad, Ahlmund. So, what is it we need to do again?"
Taking a quick glance to his left, he noticed that the drunk who was flattened by Mordred and his friend were there. Not minding him whilst they speak in hushed voices. The drunk man must've forgotten who he was and didn't make the connection with Archer and Mordred. His brain must have been rattled a bit by a certain someone. Since he made no move to pick a fight or show that he was suspicious of the redhead.
Ahlmund however, was a different story.
"Hey you! What're you doing around these parts?" Ahlmund shouted towards the redhead.
Archer replied with a prepared lie. He brought up his right hand and held out a sword from his reality marble and said.
"I was going to sharpen my trusty sword over here. I didn't find any good sharpening tools back there." He nodded his head to the direction of where the armoury was located.
Ahlmund eyed him with suspicion for a second or two before he sighed. "The blacksmith's at the south end of the camp. If you want to sharpen your sword, you should go over there. '' he said.
"Then I'll do just that. Thank you for the reminder." Archer said before he continued walking. The Saxon pair began walking towards the opposite direction, no longer paying attention to the redhead. Speaking of,
'I wonder what they're doing around here…' Archer thought as he took one last look back at the Saxons. 'I'll ask Corvus when I see him'.
Meanwhile…
"So what did Sir Corvus ask us to do again?"
"We need to secure the prisoner, Eardwulf."
"Ah, now I remember. The girl. Am I right, Ahlmund?"
"Yes, her. We need to take her to Sir Corvus' tent. Something about 'keeping her up close and personal' or something."
"I see… is he going to-"
"I do not care. Nor do I want to know. We have a job to do. And whatever it is Sir Corvus has in mind for her, we do not need to know."
"Alright, alright. I get it. Now, where is that darn key…"
Londinium. The next day. 7 am in the morning…
A solitary ray of light illuminated the room. It was a clean room. With modest beds and adequate spacing for 4 men. It was cozy enough to have a nice, long rest after a gruelling day's work. And what a day these men had.
"Sometimes I wonder why I became a knight in the first place." Andrew bemoaned to his comrades while he lay on his bed. "Yesterday made me start questioning my entire existence."
"Here, here." replied Caleb. A fellow 15th Cohortian. "All we did yesterday was wait for the Queen or shit. We're from Camelot. Camelot! We should've been giving top priority. To be reduced to waiting in a line of all things... It was cold as ice yesterday too. Freaking weather froze my legs. Now it hurts like a bitch. And the worst part is: we didn't even get a chance to even see her.. What was her name again?"
"Nero. They call her. And she's an 'Imperator' or whatever title she calls herself." Joshua, another Cohortian, replied from his bed as he made air quotes. "It's not like any title changes will make a difference anyway, so there's no point in remembering."
"You idiot. Of course it matters." Said Andrew who was sitting at the table situated beside the window. He was reading a map of some sort. "Nero declares herself the rightful successor to the Roman Empire. With every action she takes, more and more people who remember the days of the Empire gather around and voice their support. Which is why we couldn't meet her yesterday."
"And what makes you say that?" A new voice asked as the door swung open revealing Lancelot.
"Sir Lancelot." Said all the soldiers in the room as they stood up in respect to the Knight of the Lake.
"At ease." Lancelot requested with a wave. To which everyone obeyed. He then went to where Bart is at and looked over the soldier's shoulder and looked at the detailed map.
"Those are the lands of the emissaries waiting in line with us yesterday, aren't they?" the Knight of the Lake asked.
"Yes, Sir Lancelot." Bart replied. "Emissaries from every single duke or petty king from Hadrian's wall to the Great Ouse River were present yesterday. Even Camelot's allies in Mercia were present yesterday. The only ones not present are Camelot's client states."
"Meaning the 2 kingdoms of Wales. And Wessex." Lancelot added. To which Bart nodded in acknowledgement.
"So it is official then. War truly is near?" Caleb asked as he put on his armor and weapons on his person.
"Not until we have a say in the matter." Lancelot replied. "Once we enter Nero's court, Sir Bedivere and I will do our utmost to secure peace between them and the Saxons. It is our King's command, after all."
"We are certain that you will ensure peace in our time, Sir Lancelot. But with how the winds are blowing these days, are you sure we aren't just delaying the inevitable?" Joshua, who was now fully armed and clothed, asked the Knight of the Lake. Worry and fear emanated from his words. Everyone in the room tensed at the question. Since they all knew that if they failed to ensure peace between Londinium and the Saxons. The flames of war will burn them all.
"I am certain that we will succeed." Lancelot said to not just Joshua but to everyone in the room. Those simple words were enough to encourage them. Had any other man spoken those words to them, he would've failed in reassuring them. Only confident and noble leaders like Lancelot were able to inspire confidence with simple words.
With the renewed energy from their leader's assurance, the group left the room and went to the Imperator's palace. Where Bedivere was in hopes of getting an early audience with Nero.
The procurator - the fancy Roman word for governor - during the times of the Empire always lived in the palace Nero is currently staying in. It was built between 80 and 100 AD on the banks of the River Thames, it contained offices, reception halls, living quarters and an ornamental pool.
Currently, Lancelot and the 5th Cohort are in one of the reception halls that was refurbished into something that I call a 'Plea court'. A court where people from all around the Kingdom will go when they wish for aid, a meeting, and anything that has to do with the King. Or, Imperator in this case. And since there are so few of these courts in place at the moment. They are always swamped with people from everywhere. Be it emissaries from the greatest of kings or peasants from the lowest of backgrounds, all are forced to go here if they want a meeting with the King.
Fortunately for the cause of Camelot and the cause for peace, Bedivere managed to snag an audience with Nero for today through his wits and negotiating skills as well as his perseverance. He did not leave the palace until he was guaranteed an audience with Nero herself.
To put into perspective how a feat like this is greatly impressive. Let it be known that such a feat was not seen around these parts. Ever. Usually emissaries can only have a meeting with a King a week or two after they made the request. And sometimes those meetings would be pointless. Since most of the time, it wasn't even Nero who came to these meetings. Rather some lapdog of hers that always wastes time and never gets anything done. So a meeting where it was scheduled
Lancelot and the boys walked up to where the Teal Knight was standing, which was one of the 12 columns that held the roof of the refurbished hall. As soon as the Knight of the Lake and his companions were close enough to quietly converse, Bedivere spoke.
"The scheduled time is around 3 hours from now. All we have to do is wait." the Teal Knight explained.
"Thank you for your efforts, Bedivere. The King was right in sending you with us." Lancelot said as he commended his fellow Knight of the Round. The Teal Knight smiled a little at the compliment and went on to discuss the finer points of their eventual meeting with the Imperator.
SLAM!
"Make way for her Royal Majesty. The Governor and King of Londinium, the Rightful Heir to the Roman Empire - Romula Augusta Claudia Nero!"
Turning their heads towards the only door of the reception hall in surprise. The Camelotians were greeted to the sight of the most stunningly beautiful blonde they have ever seen. Wearing a red gown that covered her arms with white frills that reached to her leather shoes, a crown made of gold encrusted with red rubies and green emeralds that shone bright under the morning sun, and a lovely yet confident smile that can befall any man who sees it.
The 15th Cohort were smitten at the sight of the Imperator. But the Knights of the Round that were with them had a completely different reaction in their heads.
'Why does this, "Nero"...' Lancelot thought to himself.
'...Look like King Arthur?!' Bedivere thought to himself.
It was true that Nero looks like King Arthur in some aspects. Other than the fact that Nero looks a lot younger than the Camelotian King. She has golden blonde hair that shimmers when the sun hits it just right. Her height is nearly the same as Arthur but a little bit shorter than the King. And her eyes have a warm green colour that was like the emeralds on her crown- Wait. Arthur's eyes are blue! Blue as the Lake where he was given Excalibur.
"Other than her eyes, she resembles our King when she was younger." Bedivere whispered to Lancelot.
"She does. Worrisome." Lancelot replied.
They watched the red-clad Imperator scan the room in silence. Carefully looking at everyone as if she was looking for someone. Once her eyes landed upon the Teal Knight and the Knight of the Lake. She beamed.
"Sir Lancelot! And Sir Bedivere! What brings you here to my grand and glorious city?" Nero said as she skipped towards the two Knights with an ear to ear smile that brightened the room.
Taken aback by the unexpected cheerfulness of the woman, Lancelot faltered. Unable to speak before regaining his composure. He was about to open his mouth when Bedivere spoke before him.
"Imperator Romula. It is a pleasure to meet you today. We are doing well in this wonderful city of yours." He said with a professional tone behind it.
"Umu! How splendid to hear that you are enjoying your stay here. But please, call me Nero next time." Nero said joyfully.
"I shall do as you request. Imperator Nero." Bedivere said as he corrected himself while secretly noting the detail that is Nero not liking her given name.
"Imperator." Lancelot spoke from beside Bedivere. "A few days ago, our King sent a message for a meeting with you. Yet you have yet to reply. In accordance with this, we have come here in hopes of speaking with you instead."
"Oh, that. I was planning to send my reply. However the storm that came not too long ago has destroyed our messenger posts and because of it, most of our best pigeons have escaped. We sent one bird a few hours before the storm, but now that you are here. It appears my reply won't matter anymore." Nero said with a sad pout.
Nero then bounced back with a smile and said, "I remember from one of my advisors that I have you scheduled around 3 hours later in the morning but I have changed that once I heard from him that you are here in my wonderful city. Now, what is it we need to discuss?"
3 hours later
"So King Arthur wants me to make peace with those Scoundrels?!"
"Imperator Nero. We do not wish for war to befall Britannia. Our King merely wishes for you to understand that war is a dangerous and destructive idea."
"Sir Bedivere is right, Imperator. Should you continue with your current course, you will be responsible for the deaths of multitudes. As well as indirectly cause more wars to occur. These aisles have known peace for as long as our King has reigned-"
"And yet he could not stop the onslaught of the Saxons a year ago. Am I wrong, Sir Lancelot? If it weren't for your King's leniency towards the Saxons, the lands they have taken as well as the people that live within it wouldn't have been ruthlessly killed and pillaged."
It's nearing noon now. And the debate between the Knights of the Round and the Imperator have gone nowhere. It's a back and forth affair now. With each side pointing out the reasons and facts that support their argument. So far, Lancelot and Bedivere are unsuccessful in convincing Nero that peace is the only option there is. Nero however begs to differ.
"Everything I have seen and heard about the Saxons points to the fact that they are merely warmongers." Nero said with a righteous fury within her eyes.
"They are out for blood and I know it! If we strike now, we can save Britannia from the scourge that is these beasts. If we can just strike them with one decisive blow-"
"It will encourage their fellow tribesmen from the mainland to fight the war against us. Leading to escalation on both sides." Bedivere said as he cut Nero off from her speech. "Should you continue this path, everything that King Arthur has fought for will collapse into ruin. This is why we are here, Imperator Nero. To dissuade you from war."
"But- "
While the Imperator and the Knights of the Round are busy debating. The 4 members of the 15th Cavalry are currently on standby by one of the two doors that lead into the ornamental pool Nero's palace has. In fact, this is where the meeting is taking place. The ornamental pool is… well, a pool. A rectangular pool that is about half a basketball court's size in length and width. Surrounding the pool are some oak chairs and tables. With said tables filled with refreshments like wine and apples. Though they have yet to be touched by the participants within the pool area.
"The talks aren't going as smoothly as I'd hoped judging from the voices inside." Joshua said to the others.
"Keep your hopes up, Joshua." Andrew told his comrade, "Sometime soon, we will get those peace negotiations going."
"Too long have we acquiesced with the demands of the Saxons! No more, I say. No more! I say we strike at the enemy. Banish them from these Isles. And reclaim our land." The Cohort had to mentally stop themselves from looking inside the room. Resisting the urge to bust in there and defend their leaders.
"Imperator! Calm down. We are merely-" they heard Bedivere say in hopes to calm down the raging blonde. But was cut off by another voice.
"Why are you so adamant in waging war against the Saxons?" The 15th Cavalry heard Sir Lancelot say, "do you not understand the danger you are putting every single person within Britannia?! Do you not see that you are becoming the very same warmonger you accuse the Saxons of!"
Silence… the room behind the 15th Cavalry became as quiet as the tomb. They can feel the air around them become heavier with each passing moment. So much so that they found it harder to breathe at one point. After an eternity (15 seconds), they heard footsteps coming from the room. Without an early warning, Bart and Caleb yanked both Joshua and Andrew aside respectively to give way to an angrily pouting Nero. Clearly displeased with how the meeting went.
"What the hell was that about?" Caleb wondered as the red clad figure of the Imperator vanished into the living quarters section of the palace.
"That. Was our chance in achieving peace." Lancelot replied as he got out of the room with a grim expression.
"If I had only been a little more careful with my words… This wouldn't have happened." Bedivere said as he followed the Knight of the Lake. Sadness evident even through his calm expression.
"I was expecting this 'Imperator' to be either brash or headstrong. But not like this…" Lancelot said as he groaned in frustration. "She has shown petulance and immaturity throughout the meeting."
"Sir Lancelot! This behaviour is not befitting of a Knight such as you. Calm yourself, please." Bedivere told his comrade. He was surprised that someone as patient and understanding as Lancelot was pushed to his limits so much that he began speaking such ill-willed things behind the back of the Imperator.
"...You're right. Sir Bedivere. That was unbecoming of me." Lancelot said as he acknowledged his wrongdoing.
The 15th Cohort behind the 2 stayed silent throughout. They know that at this moment, they have nothing to offer in terms of helping out. They decided to let the Knights of the Round deal with the more… complex side of things.
The Camelotians began walking back to their dorms. But not without being told by one of Nero's advisors that they are expected to resume their meeting with the Imperator 'whenever the time she has deemed so' or whatever. Meaning, that they will be summoned when Nero feels like it.
"So what do we do now?" Bedivere asked Lancelot. The group is already outside Nero's palace and on their way back to their rooms when the Teal Knight spoke.
Lancelot looked up to the sky for a moment. A few seconds later he looked towards Bedivere and said.
"We wait until further notice. Sir Bartholemew, arrange a messenger bird to be sent to Camelot detailing what has transpired here. Sir Caleb, take a visit to the horses. See to it they are well fed and ready for whenever we need them. Sirs Joshua and Andrew, check our rations. See to it that our rations and weapons are readied and in good shape. Report to me in 3 hours from now."
"As you wish, Sir Lancelot!" the 4 men declared before going their separate ways. The Teal Knight was surprised at his comrade's orders since they were a bit odd.
"Sir Lancelot. While I do approve of the measures you have taken. I can't help but be confused. You said that we must wait here until further notice. Yet why are your orders pointing to the notion that we might leave the city anytime soon?" Bedivere asked.
"Because, Sir Bedivere." Lancelot said as he brought his right arm out for the descending raven to rest on. "Another message has arrived."
Somewhere… 4 hours later.
"The raven has returned." Said Archer as he looked out from the shared tent the Camelotians resided in. The raven then flew to the redhead's side and landed on his shoulder.
"Perfect. Take the letter and open it up. I need to see what's inside." Levi said from his side of the tent.
It was a risky thing to do. But it paid off in the end. The plan basically is to send a messenger bird to Camelot. Or anyone associated with King Arthur. Now, don't get me wrong. The risky part in this endeavour is something other than the route the messenger bird needs to use. In this world of magic and mystery, messenger birds are specially trained to seek out whoever however their master wishes them too. Well, the most expensive ones at least. The cheaper ones can't send shit unless they were trained in the route they were ordered to send. And even then there would be complications. I.e. messages not being received by the intended recipient or letters taken by unintended receivers.
In our case. Our protagonists own an expensive kind of bird. A raven, it was. The same raven that sent Andrus the message detailing the change of plans from the previous chapters. The same raven who, in this time, bravely sent the message intended for Sir Lancelot. I say bravely, since it was a very dangerous undertaking. Because of the increased scrutiny when it comes to these things.
Let me explain.
The reason for the lack of communications between Captain Faust's group with the outside world was because a.) they were in the belly of the beast (in this case, Horsa's army) and b) the fact that only the higher ups can send messenger birds/ authorise the usage of said messenger birds (but the higher ups must give Horsa their letters for inspection before sending). These 2 factors are what makes contacting Camelot nearly impossible.
But now that Corvus - the only higher up that can either send or approve the sending of messenger birds without needing to ask permission to Horsa (because why the hell would Horsa ask himself for permission?) - everything became much much easier. Kind of. It's still risky to do. There is still the chance of the letter being intercepted. But if timed correctly, they can send whatever message without being hindered or intercepted by anyone.
Fortunately for our protagonists, fate dictated that they get to have their way. For now.
"In Londinium. Will stay until further notice. We'll send Sirs Gawain and Percival an update on your whereabouts soon. Stay within the Camp until circumstances deem otherwise."
-Signed with the Crest of Lancelot, the Knight of the Lake.
"So brief. Yet straight to the point." Corvus remarked as he showed the letter to the other occupants of the tent.
"That's Lancelot for ya. The bastard always writes like that to me." Mordred said as she yanked the letter from Corvus' hand. Carefully reading each word to authenticate the handwriting of the Knight of the Lake. After taking a moment to read it again, the Red Knight said,
"Yep, it's Lancelot's letter all right. The handwriting's legit."
"Then we must obey what he has ordered us to do." Captain Faust said as he stood up from his side of the tent and said to the occupants.
"You mean stay here longer than we should?" Andrus asked with a glare already aimed at Faust.
"We have our orders. And we must stick to them, no matter what." the Captain said calmly. "Besides, once our cover is compromised. We have our horses geared up and ready."
"Courtesy of me, of course. You're all welcome. By the way." Corvus said as he elbowed Andrus' arm.
"I'm still unconvinced about where his allegiances lie…" Levi said as he looked at the Saxon in suspicion. The reply he got was a stare from everyone in the room.
"...Why are you all looking at me like that? Just because two weeks passed with him not snitching on us, doesn't mean he won't do it anytime soon. We should test him again to see if he stays true to his word."
"B-but I already proved myself by telling you everything I know!" Corvus shouted in exasperation.
"I suggest you lower your voice." Archer told the Saxon, "This tent isn't the kind to stop our voices from being heard from the outside."
"Nah, you're good. I paid good money for this one. It's enchanted so that none of us can be heard by anyone." Mordred proudly declared as she grinned inside her helmet.
"When did you buy this tent?" Archer asked, curiosity evident in his voice.
"I never said I bought it. I just paid Merlin to enchant it before we left. That's all." Mordred replied with a shrug.
"But back to the topic. I can guarantee that Corvus ain't a snitch. I got his little diary to prove it." Mordred's smug attitude was very evident. As well as Corvus' distress.
"It's not a diary, it's the ledger to Lord Horsa's dealings dating back to last year. Can I have that back? I've been struggling to find spare parchments to write my accounts on and I would very much like to use it again." Corvus said as he remembered his struggles to account in the past 2 weeks he lost the book.
"Wait. you said that book contains everything?" Levi asked in surprise.
"Did I stutter?" Corvus asked in reply.
"Does it have anything on his finances, mercenary hirings, and where he placed his treasure holdings?" Levi asked in anticipation.
"That's a little too specific, but yes. That ledger does contain those things. Due to hereditary rules that came from our Culture, we Saxons evenly split our riches to all our children. Meaning, while Hengist is King, Horsa is equal to him in wealth, military power, and in influence."
"Get to the fucking point already! We don't have time for your stupid history lesson." Shouted Mordred as he folded his arms in impatience.
With a finger pointing to the Ledger, Corvus began to speak once more.
"Once the Saxons go to war with Londinium, half of all the treasures of the Saxons are primed for the taking. You can win the war just by targeting every location written in there since you'll be robbing Lord Horsa of his payment for his mercenary armies as well as Lord Hengist's chance of a swift victory."
"I've given everything I know to help your cause through giving the ledger to Mordred. I believe I've made clear where my loyalties lie." Corvus said with resolution. Staring at Levi as if daring him to ask one more question.
"...How much gold were you promised to do this?" Levi asked with a raised eyebrow.
"That… is none of your business." Andrus said before Corvus could say a word. "The payment he will eventually receive is between him and King Arthur."
"He's right. Let's leave this issue alone for now. We need to finish this meeting up quickly." Captain Faust said as he called for everyone's attention.
"Now. like I said at the beginning of this meeting. We will stay put until something happens to compromise our cover. Corvus, keep a lookout for any relevant news from the outside world. Do you have any updates about the 'special guest' that will arrive at the camp, by any chance? We haven't heard anything from you concerning that."
"Oh yeah. I was given the news by Lord Horsa himself. I found out the guest's identity. And I also found out she'll be arriving after a 3 day's journey."
"When will she arrive, exactly?" Archer asked. Since he was curious about it too. But as he thought about it, he couldn't help but wonder where the bubbling feeling of dread came from as he waited for an answer.
"A few hours from now. Although she's well known to arrive whenever she pleases. So that is merely an estimate." Corvus casually replied.
"And her name?" Mordred asked while not understanding why her left hand started faintly shaking.
"Morgan le Fay." Corvus replied. (Note the nonchalance in his voice as he said this.)
The temperature within the tent dropped instantly at the sound of that name. Captain Faust and Levi visibly shook at the sound of Morgan's name. Andrus followed suit. Corvus noticed the reactions of the two Knights and were undoubtedly confused. Corvus because he doesn't know any more… Magical side of Morgan (He merely sees her as a foreign Queen from Cornwall.) \
But for the other two inside the room. The only reaction they had was,
'Oh fuck.'
Cornwall Castle… an hour after nightfall…
A man in chains was woken up by a bucket of mop water. The dirt and much that came with said water forced him to howl in pain as the water came into contact with his raw wounds. As he glared at his unwanted visitor, he spoke.
"You bitch! Once I get out of here, you will be dead! You hear me-?!"
"Yes, yes. I know. You will make me a feast for the crows, and many more gruesome things that you can think of. But now is not the time for your idiocy, so listen."
The one who stopped the man from shouting lifted a finger to raise the chains binding him in place. A few seconds later, the two of them were seeing each other eye to eye.
"I've seen through your stuff. They were impressive. Three weapons of great power and 2 books." The woman said. Her voice is cold as ice.
"One of them piqued my interest." Morgan continued as she brought the book up to the chained man's line of sight, 'The Lion and the Witch.' the title read.
"Why on earth would a book as simple as this be cursed with the magic of the Queen of Ice?" Morgan demanded, her presence making the air around them significantly heavier. Any normal person would collapse at such a feeling. Yet here is Drecken, unfazed.
"Like I would ever tell a bitch like you-! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH" Drecken could not hold his voice as the pain that surged within his body increased. His appendages were twitching like crazy. His eyes are looking towards the inside of his skull. And his mouth began spewing blood out. Overall, it isn't a pretty picture.
"I will ask this again… once." Morgan calmly said as her hand glowed a yellow hue before it palmed the top of Drecken's head. "What. Do you. Know?" Morgan asked once more.
Apparently, the yellow glow was a truth spell. One powerful enough to make the receiver of such a spell vulnerable to saying things he should never have said out loud. It was such a powerful spell that Drecken couldn't fight against it. Making him comply almost immediately.
"Argh!- Huff. Huff… That book was a family heirloom. Huff. Huff…" Said Drecken as he was recovering from the pain.
"My father… and his father… and his father before guarded it with their lives. In hopes that we can revive- Argh!" Drecken screamed in agony before he could finish his sentence.
"You mean to say that you would bring chaos to Brittania through resurrecting the Queen of Ice? You stupid mutt. The Queen of Ice is nothing but a myth. A fairytale to keep children from wandering the woods."
She was bluffing. After thoroughly examining the book for two weeks, she concluded that the magic residing in the book was from the Queen of Ice herself. Though it took her a while to accept it. Just a little confirmation from her prisoner would do the trick of convincing her of the truth.
"You are wrong! Everything you said was wrong. She's real and I know it! My staff was once hers. That staff is proof of it." Said Drecken as the words fell out of his mouth. Even though he desperately tried to keep it shut.
"Oh. I believe you." Morgan's voice was like poison as she spoke. "And that is why I come before you now."
With a snap of her fingers, Morgan ordered the chains binding Drecken to disappear. Causing the man to fall face first onto the ground. As Drecken writhed in pain, he felt his head involuntarily rise up and before he knew it he was facing Morgan. In her hand was a flask containing a mysterious liquid with odd colors. But that's not all he noticed. The liquid is brimming with malevolent mana. Drecken doesn't know what it is, but it doesn't take an adept magus to tell it was bad news.
"What is that?! Put that away from me- urgh!" Drecken shouted before he was silenced once more.
Drecken felt his jaw open wide and the worst part of it is that he wasn't doing it voluntarily! No matter what he does, he couldn't bring his head to distance it from the flask that was only getting closer to his lips.
And then. He heard Morgan speak. Her eyes are full of hate and wickedness. As well as a hint of indignation.
"Do you really think I would allow vermin like you to summon a being more powerful than I! You ought to know your place. As my dog." Morgan said in a level voice that somehow fills the room like a shout would.
Morgan then brought her right hand up and clenched it into a fist. Purple mana circulated around it and began nearing Drecken's limbs. As the mana touched both of Drecken's arms and legs, the man instantly stopped writhing in place. Instead, he became as still as a rock.
Taking advantage of this, Morgan emptied the flask of its contents and into Drecken's mouth. The man's eyes became as wide as it could be. Morgan spoke again. But in a tone that is very much lighter and less evil sounding as before.
"You will be my pawn. For my sake. And my sake only. I will control you until I deem you worthless. So until then. Drink. And also, don't forget to swallo-."
The rest of what Morgan said wasn't heard by Drecken. He was too busy trying to process the liquid he just drank. He can feel his body morphing from the inside. As if his organs were being rearranged. He can feel his muscles become harder and stronger, his eyesight becoming clearer by the minute. But his mind…
'AH! AH! MY BODY! IT'S BURNING! AH!", was all Drecken repeatedly thought of as his body changed.
What you are witnessing is the transformation of a tyrant… into a monster.
Basically.
The complicated version of the explanation is that the inner workings of the liquid Drecken drank sums up to the modern day equivalent of steroids and performance enhancing drugs. But with magic and alchemy added into the mix. What Drecken is experiencing is his body familiarising itself with the magical PEDs. The pain is just temporary. It'll wear off soon.
And would you look at that, Drecken finally became unconscious. His body survived what a hundred champions of the highest rank could not. And he lived to tell the tale. Not that he would anytime soon.
"Impressive. For a dog like you to survive my most potent mixture. I have no doubt that your usefulness will last for a long time." Morgan said as she looked at his finest creation.
"For now… I will rest. So take your time to sleep. Drecken. It will be the last sleep you will ever have." Morgan said with a genuinely evil smile. And with that. She left the dungeon.
Normally the Witch of Cornwall doesn't need rest. I mean. She's still human but i'm talking about the recharging kind of rest. Her mana reserves were quite dented after restraining Drecken as he transformed. The man was an unstoppable force for a while back there. Draining Morgan of her mana as she struggled to keep him in place. It was… enlightening. To Morgan at least.
'Drecken's new found strength is wonderful! I've never seen anything like it. I wonder if he's powerful enough to take her down…' Morgan mused to herself as she headed to her bedroom. 'Arthur would finally fall once and for all…'
As she closed the door to her room. Morgan saw a hawk walking about on her window sill. Taking a few steps towards it. She saw a ring on the hawk's leg. A ring with the crest of Hengist.
'Hengist… he will have to wait. I have more pressing matters.' Morgan thought as she took the letter attached to the hawk's other leg and placed it on her bedside table. Clearly indicating that she'll look into tomorrow.
And then she remembered Hengist's brother. Horsa. Who she was meant to meet anytime soon. Oh well. He can wait too. His anger amuses Morgan somewhat. So she'll allow Horsa to seethe in anger as she makes him wait for her.
And so, Morgan slept.
Author note: Hi I'm back again. See ya around guys. Hope you like my story. Parts 2 and 3 will come soon. I think. Anyways. Bye.