Tales From Camelot Series 1: PENDRAGON

by Paul Green

  "WHAT!?" Uther exclaimed as he instantly jumped to his feet. "How badly injured!?"

  "It is only a scrape; he shall be fine and walking again, soon."

  "Who attacked us!?"

  "It was Terrel."

  "WHAT!?"

  "It was but a small skirmish in order to test our might. I do not expect Terrel to try anything again for some time."

  "Are you certain Arthur shall recover!?"

  "He shall be as good as new."

  "How many did we lose?"

  "27 brave men lost their lives. 200 were injured."

  Uther sighed. "I ... do not like losing men."

  "I did not think you cared."

  Uther gave Bors a hard cold glance, and then sat back down in his chair. "I care."

  "We have it all under control, your Majesty."

  "Stop calling me that, Bors. You know I care not for titles."

  "Your mind seems ... sharp, this night."

  Uther shook his head. "It comes and it goes. Sometimes I am uncertain where I even am."

  "You should not be traveling the kingdom, alone. You should have men with you."

  "And have them see how I am much of the time? I cannot think, Bors. My mind ... it will not let me."

  "Indeed, this is the first conversation we have shared in some time."

  "I only wished ... to return..."

  "...to see if your son is well. Yes, Arthur is fine. He has proven himself in battle and shall be a great warrior leader."

  "How old is he, now?"

  "He shall be twelve years of age, this summer."

  "He must be getting big."

  "Arthur looks more like you every day. You would be proud."

  "I am an unworthy father, Bors."

  "Agreed. You are an unworthy king."

  Uther smiled. "I have always appreciated your truthfulness with me, Bors. I appreciate it now, no less."

  "Shall I kick your royal behind?"

  Uther chuckled. "If you think it would help. But I am afraid, old friend, that even your mighty foot cannot purge this sickness from me."

  "Perhaps the Master Physician..."

  "I have already spoken with the Master Physician. There is nothing he can do."

  Bors sighed and looked down at the floor. "I am truly sorry to hear that. More than you know."

  "I would ask something of you, old friend."

  "Of course. You are my king."

  "I cannot ask this of you as your king; for you would refuse my request. I can only ask this of a friend."

  "I am listening."

  "Take my life, Bors."

  "WHAT!?"

  "While there is still clarity in my mind, I wish you to take my life."

  "I CANNOT!"

  "Please, Bors. I cannot rule. I cannot father. I cannot do anything. I am unable to take my own life, as most of the time my mind is not right. But I ask you now, take this breath from me, so that my son may rule in my stead. It is better this way."

  "Uther, I cannot..."

  "I beg of you, Bors; I ... I ..."

  And then once more, a haze began coming over Uther as his eyes started to cloud.

  "Uther! Listen to me! I have news!"

  "I am trying, Bors. What news?"

  Bors sighed. He didn't want to tell Uther about finding Gorlois, for Uther was in no condition to go up against the evil duke. For Uther's own safety, Bors chose not to mention anything about Gorlois. But he thought Uther should at least know about a possible daughter of Igraine.

  "Uther, hear me, while you still can. A girl has been found. There is a possibility, however remote ... that this girl may be a daughter born of ... Igraine."

  Uther's eyes widened in surprise. "A ... daughter? Regan had ... two daughters; born of Gorlois."

  "I know of them, Uther; you have before told me. But we do not know of the whereabouts of Elaine, but for what you have told us; that she was placed with some other family, of whom we know nothing about. The other daughter, we do not know her fate."

  "You believe this girl may be Regan's other daughter?"

  "Perhaps. We do not know."

  The haze was growing heavy over Uther and his words were beginning to slur and stumble. But before he disappeared into his mind completely, he managed to get out two words. "Find ... daughter."

  Bors clapped his fist to his chest and nodded. "It shall be done."

  And then in a matter of moments, the awful glaze once again filled Uther's eyes. And Uther was gone.

  Bors stood in place for a long time, watching as Uther became confused and unsure where he was. Finally Bors walked over to Uther, and helped him sit in his chair. Then Bors turned and left to head upstairs towards Arthur's room.

  *** *** ***

  KNOCK. KNOCK. "Young pup? Awaken, it is Bors."

  "I am awake." Arthur called out from his bed.

  Bors opened the door to Arthur's suite and saw him lying on his bed, with tears in his eyes.

  "You still grieve for Frederick?"

  "It was all my fault!"

  Bors sighed and decided against a reply; for they had discussed it many times, but Arthur was very much determined to take full responsibility and all of the blame for what had happened.

  "I have important news, young pup."

  "Is it about Frederick!?"

  "I am sorry, nothing has changed; he still remains asleep."

  "What is the news, Bors?"

  "We believe we may have located Gorlois."

  "WHAT!?"

  And Bors began explaining everything he had just learned from Aggravaine and Geraint.

  "So you think this ... 'daughter' ... might be my mother's ... second daughter?"

  "We can only surmise. We do not know the whereabouts of the first daughter, but the last we knew she was safe with another family."

  "Elaine. We at least know her name is Elaine. But the second daughter ... we do not even know her name."

  "Or ... this may yet even be a third daughter of Igraine. This is all only based upon the words of a disloyal servant, seeking to sell the girl out from under his master. Perhaps he was merely lying about Igraine only to fetch a higher price."

  "That is not possible, Bors, and you know it. My mother was not with Gorlois long enough to bear a third daughter."

  "Perhaps if the body we found..."

  "No, Bors. My father is certain the body he found was that of my mother. I have seen it in his heart."

  "If this daughter was born of your mother..."

  "I know, Bors. I have always known I have two half-sisters, out there ... somewhere. This must be the other one. When do you leave?"

  "I shall take Accolon and Sagremor with me and leave immediately. If we ride fast, we can reach the house of Gorlois before dawn."

  "I wish I could go with you."

  "You are not fit to ride, young pup."

  "Bors, I want Gorlois as much as you do. But I remind you, we are not on good terms with King Eldon. Killing one of his subjects would only serve to start a war. Only a High King has the authority to cross his borders and execute justice."

  "Can we not at least bring Gorlois back?"

  "No, we dare not. I shall send a messenger to King Eldon and ask permission. But until then, all we dare hope to get away with is taking my half-sister, who, in effect, belongs to me. Surely King Eldon cannot find fault with that. But as for Gorlois?"

  "I understand."

  "Bors? I am very serious about this. You cannot lay a hand on Gorlois. Not until I first hear from King Eldon. Perhaps I can convince Eldon to allow us to ... 'interrogate' Gorlois. I shall be sure to accompany my message with a large tribute of gold."

  "May I be in charge of the interrogation?"

  Arthur smiled. "I am sure my father may also wish to participate in the 'questioning' of Gorlois, as well. But that is to be determined at a latter time. In truth, Gorlois is not longer a threat to us. His station has been revoked and he has no title. He is as nothing."

  "HE KILLED YOUR
MOTHER!"

  "You do not think I know that!? Bors, I shall not go to war with Eldon. I have no desire to lose another man like Frederick, just because of a vendetta."

  "Young pup, what happened to Frederick was unfortunate, to be sure; but it was a casualty of battle. It could have just as easily been Frederick who first passed under that tree."

  "I do not care to keep belaboring that point with you, Bors. Frederick died because I did not look up. It is that simple."

  "Frederick is not dead, Arthur."

  "He is as good as dead, Bors, and you know it."

  "He can still recover."

  "And be what? A vegetable!? That is what the Master Physician believes! There is no coming back for Frederick! He shall be lucky to live another week! And it is all my fault."

  "I shall go and retrieve Accolon and Sagremor. I expect to return by midday."

  "Be careful, Bors. I do not want to lose you, too. I could not bear it."

  Bors grinned at Arthur. "Now you sound like my wife."

  Arthur gave Bors a slight smile. "Please be careful, Bors. And to not let harm come to Accolon and Sagremor."

  Bors nodded and turned on his heels to leave.

  "Remember, Bors! You cannot kill Gorlois! We cannot afford another war. We shall only retrieve Gorlois when the time is right."

  Without response, Bors left Arthur's room, closing the door behind him.

  Arthur lay back his head and groaned. "He is going to kill him. I just know it."

  Chapter 40

  It was an hour before dawn when Bors, Accolon and Sagremor reigned in their horses a short distance away from an old, beat-up wooden house that didn't look fit for a dog.

  "Seriously!?" Accolon exclaimed. "This is where Duke Gorlois lives!?"

  "Keep your voice down, you fool!" Bors whispered. "Remember, he is a duke no longer."

  Sagremor looked over at Bors. "So ... do we just knock on the door?"

  "Nay." Bors replied, drawing his sword. "It is a door. Doors are for opening."

  Sagremor shrugged as he dismounted his horse, along with the others. "Works for me. Let us take this worm."

  "Nay, we shall not take the life of Gorlois."

  "Surely you jest!!" Accolon exclaimed. "I believed you only spoke those while we were in the vicinity of the castle! You are really going to let this wretched snake live!?"

  "Our High Prince has good reason, just as I have already spoken."

  "So we kill him and hide his body! King Eldon need not know!"

  "I shall obey our High Prince in all things or not at all. My orders stand; we do not take the life of Gorlois."

  "What if he is not here? Then what we do?"

  Bors shrugged. "We search ... and then we leave."

  "Could we not wait for him to return?"

  "Must I repeat myself, Sir Knight? We do not come for Gorlois."

  "Right." said Sagremor. "We are only here to search for this supposed ... mystery daughter of Gorlois, based upon the fool and untrustworthy ramblings of a servant."

  "If there is such a daughter, she would also be a daughter of Igraine, once beloved wife to our High King Uther."

  "Sagremor bowed his head. Of course, Battlemaster. I meant no disrespect."

  Accolon drew his sword. "Can we stop talking and go in? I am most anxious to meet Gorlois."

  "Sir Knight..." Bors warned.

  "I am not going to kill him. I give my word as a Knight."

  "See that you do not."

  "I am only going to wound him a little."

  "Accolon..." Bors growled.

  "And I am going to wound him a lot." Sagremor added, drawing his sword.

  "Nay. If anyone is going to ... 'wound' Gorlois, it shall be I and I alone."

  "We can at least watch, I hope?" Sagremor grinned.

  Bors gave him a slight smile and then raised his sword. "Come. Let us go see what Gorlois hides in his house. Perhaps we shall be fortunate and he shall attempt to prevent us from searching."

  The three Knights quickly made their way quietly to the front door of the old shack. Bors looked towards the east and saw they had little time before the rising of the sun. "We must be quick. I wish to be long gone before first light."

  Accolon and Sagremor nodded, and then Bors smashed his foot through the front door of the house of Gorlois.

  *** *** ***

  Bors and Accolon and Sagremor had seen many things in their lives. But nothing had prepared them for this.

  For they had just entered a house of horrors.

  Strewn about the wooden floor were dozens of candles. The floor itself was covered in blood, and the walls were covered with hideous drawings and symbols, written in blood. And everywhere they looked, there were internal body parts and organs; whether they were human or animal; they did not know.

  But it was the people inside the horrific one room shack that unnerved them the most. Strapped upon one of the walls was a man ... naked and hanging upside down, and his body was covered with ghastly deep cuts. His entire chest had been sliced open and peeled back, revealing his ribcage and organs.

  And the man was still alive.

  "Help me..." the man whispered, in agony.

  But there were others in the grisly room, as well.

  Four young teen boys were sitting in a circle upon the sticky and bloody floor; also naked. Their heads were shaven bare and they seemed to be in some sort of drugged trance, such that they didn't even realize that three Knights had just burst in upon their abhorrent and gruesome ritual.

  And there was a terrible heaviness in the air; a blanket of evil that pervaded the house, giving the Knights pause.

  Bors shook his head trying to clear his thoughts of what he was seeing. The upside down man on the wall looked to be in his last throes of life, and so Bors quickly rushed over and put his sword through the man's exposed beating heart, freeing him from his terrible misery.

  Then Bors turned towards the four boys with shaven heads, who looked to be no more than ten or eleven years old. Part of him wanted to kill them all right there. Another part of him could not, for they were not of age. But it was his promise to Arthur that caused him to stay his hand and not harm the four sons of Gorlois.

  Just then a servant came running in from the back of the house, having heard the crashing in of the door. The servant's appearance matched the description of the servant seen in the Marketplace. Upon seeing the four large Knights armed with swords and filled with rage, the servant instantly dropped to his knees. "PLEASE!" he began begging for his life. "I am but a servant of my master!"

  "WHERE IS GORLOIS!?" Bors roared.

  "PLEASE! Sir Knight, my master is not here!"

  "LIES!!" Bors was now

  "NO! No lies! My master is not here!"

  Bors rushed over and wrapped his giant hand around the man's neck and lifted him into the air. "WHO ELSE RESIDES IN THIS VILE HOUSE!?"

  The servant man began struggling with his hands, desperately trying to ease the giant Knight's powerful grip around his throat. As tears of fright came to his eyes, it was all he could do to shake his head.

  Bors growled at him and threw the servant to the ground. Then he held his sword at the man's neck. "WHO ELSE RESIDES IN THIS VILE HOUSE!!?" Bors shouted again; for he was convinced the servant knew more than he was letting on.

  And for a brief moment ... and only the slightest of moments ... the servant's wide and fearful eyes briefly flickered across to the far side of the room; but he just as quickly caught himself and looked back at Bors. "PLEASE! Sir Knight, my master is not here!"

  Bors then smashed his fist into the side of the servant's head, causing the servant to fall unconscious to the sticky red wooden floor.

  Accolon and Sagremor had also seen the very brief flicker of the servant's eyes and dashed over to the corner of the single room shack.

  Where they found an old and worn, wooden trap door in the floor with a handle made of what looked like ... hair.

  Accolon reached
down and was about to yank open the trap door, when he pulled back; for it was then that he realized that he handle was made of human hair.

  "OPEN IT!!" Bors ordered.

  Accolon gulped, and then grabbed the handle made of long brown curly hair in his gloved hand and pulled. The trap door opened easily, revealing a ladder descending down into a deep narrow man-sized hole, which had been dug into the earth.

  Accolon gulped again.

  "WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF, SIR KNIGHT!?" Bors demanded as he strode over to stand beside Accolon and Sagremor.

  Together the three looked into the deep hole but it was too deep to see the bottom.

  Bors turned around and snatched two candles off of the floor and handed one of each to Accolon and Sagremor. "I would go in your place, but that rabbit hole is too small." He growled. "You two women go and see what is down there."

  Ordinarily, Accolon was a fearless man. But the house of horrors had unnerved him and he was more than a little hesitant.

  "Afraid of monsters in the dark, little girl?" Bors sneered.

  Accolon gulped as he looked down the dark hole. Even the flickering candle in his hand did nothing to reveal what horrors lay below.

  Whereas Accolon was a little on the superstitious side, Sagremor was not. He simply shrugged and pushed Accolon aside, and then turned and lowered his right foot onto the first rung of the ladder to begin his descent into the hole.

  Suddenly Accolon shrieked. For standing right behind them were the four sons. They stood beside each other like four creepy statues. Their eyes were rolled back up in their heads, and all four were pointing down into the darkness of the hole while shaking their heads in warning.

  Bors spun around and held his sword at all four of their thin pale throats. "WHAT IS DOWN THERE!?"

  While shaking their heads and pointing down, with only the whites of their eyes showing, they all answered in unison:

  "Animal."

  Sagremor instantly leaped back up out of the hole.

  Bors raised his sword, with the full intent of bringing his sword across all four of their shaven-headed necks at once; but he hesitated. For it seemed as if they were still in some sort of trance. Still struggling with taking the lives of four young boys, Bors then slammed the flat of his blade against all four of their chests, sending them flying backwards against a wall and then sliding to the ground into an unconscious heap.