******
Even with the witch’s fastest horses and servants, and propelled by his own hatred, Mordred could not find Arthur anywhere. His men stopped at the border of the Devil’s Wasteland and stared into the fog. “You think he is still in here?” rasped one of the witch’s dark, hooded servants.
“No,” replied Mordred. “If he were in there he would be dead by now.” Mordred then noticed small indentations in the grass several feet away. He then leapt up off his horse and examined the grass. “These are tracks of some kind. They are certainly not ours and they are not accompanied by chariot marks, so they must belong to someone else.”
“You mean someone else came and rescued Arthur? He didn’t escape himself.”
“No, not likely,” said Mordred. “It seems from the tracks that they moved west.” Mordred then stopped following the tracks and moved back towards his horse.
“Are we not going to follow?” asked the dark servant.
Mordred shook his head. “There is nothing to the west of here worth finding. They most likely used the forest as refuge only temporarily. My guess is that they moved north, back towards Camelot. If we are going to find him we must be able to cut him off. Let’s move! We go back towards Camelot and keep your eyes open. We do not know when we may see them.” So Mordred urged his horse onward, leading the company back towards Camelot.
******
Merlin, Arthur, and his knights continued riding all night until they saw the sun begin to rise in the distance, thus illuminating the golden field before them. “The river is ahead Lancelot! You and your company must depart!” Lancelot and his company prepared to separate. But as they approached the river they saw a figure crawling on the grass out of the river until he collapsed entirely.
“Alas Arthur, someone is near the river!” exclaimed Lancelot. Lancelot and the rest of the company moved towards the river to examine this mysterious figure. When they approached the figure they noticed that it was a man, a man who lay face down on the grass with two arrows emerging from his back, although not over his heart. Lancelot was the first to dismount and examine the man closely. After flipping his body on its side he noticed a familiar face. “Gawain! Arthur, its Gawain!”
All the knights seemed to suddenly take notice and ran over to Gawain’s body. Gawain was barely alive. He coughed several times and was clearly having a difficult time breathing. “Gawain!” exclaimed Arthur. “Never has my heart wept as much as it does now. If you have the strength to speak tell us what happened.”
Gawain struggled to speak, but then finally did. “The witch, she has completely taken over the city. At first I did not see her as a witch…I did not see her evil…forgive me Arthur…I wanted to be loyal to my brother. I did not, nor could I see my brother or the witch as evil, but now I do. I noticed her evil and when I saw her killing innocent people I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran, grabbed a horse and rode outside of the city, but I was hit…” Gawain suddenly struggled to breathe and couldn’t speak any more, reaching towards the arrows with his hands.
“We will have to pull them out,” said Lancelot. “This might hurt!” Lancelot positioned one hand on top of Gawain’s back and wrapped the other around the base of the arrow. Then he tugged and pulled out the arrow. Gawain let out a painful scream. Lancelot did the same thing again with the second arrow and again Gawain let out a painful scream.
“Get him something to stop the bleeding!” yelled Arthur, looking around at the other knights. Then suddenly Merlin stepped forward with another one of the leaves he pulled out of his handbag.
“Here, take this,” said Merlin, as he handed it to Arthur. Arthur nodded, grabbed the leaf, ripped the back of Gawain’s shirt, and placed the bandage across his back.
“That ought to slow, if not stop the bleeding,” said Arthur, looking up at Lancelot. “He will be okay Lancelot. But now we have a problem. Someone must stay here with Gawain by the river to look after him. He is in no state to move.”
“I will stay,” said Tristan boldly. “Gawain is my friend and I will stay until the battle is over.”
Arthur nodded and lifted himself up on his horse. “Very well, stay with Gawain, but we must be off...” Suddenly Arthur felt an arrow graze his head. This immediately attracted the attention of all the knights.
“Somebody attacks!” yelled Lancelot as he gazed back in the direction of the fired arrow. From the distance he could see a black, hooded rider with his bow drawn, moving slowly over the hilled plain to the east.
“Servants of the witch!” exclaimed Percival. “They are come! Draw weapons knights!”
Lancelot was the first to draw his weapon as he drew his bow, aimed it up at the distant rider and fired, hitting him square in the forehead. The rider fell back off of his horse and to the ground. “Good shot Lancelot!” exclaimed Arthur. “Now go Lancelot! The action that has taken place here has most likely drawn the witch’s gaze! So quick, take your men north-west to the secret passage and my group will remain here to fight against these men and keep the witch’s gaze focused on us.”
Lancelot nodded and returned to his horse. “We will go then!” Lancelot, several of the knights, and a few soldiers then rode quickly to the north-west, leaving Arthur, Percival, Galahad, and several others to stand against the dark riders.
After Lancelot and his group had fled, Arthur watched as a hoodless rider came within view above the hilltop. “Who is that?” asked Percival. “Who is the hoodless rider?”
“Mordred,” mumbled Gawain from the ground. “Mordred has come to find you…”
“He is right,” replied Arthur, finally getting a view of his bald head. “It is Mordred. Prepare yourself knights.” Arthur drew his sword and rode towards Mordred and the hooded figures, but he was surprised to see that they did not attack. Instead, they rode away, back towards the city of Camelot.
“Why do they run away?” asked Galahad, after firing an arrow at one of the hooded figures.
“Mordred is smart,” said Arthur. “He will not fight us here. There are only twelve of the witch’s servants with him. He will be sure to return to the city where they will have the advantage.”
“So men, we must be quick. To the city.”
Galahad shook his head. “Arthur there is no way we are going to beat those horses back to the city. They travel faster than any horse I have ever seen.”
“The witch’s devilish magic gives them speed!” exclaimed Percival.
Arthur nodded. “Come! Think not on the greatness of the enemy! Camelot awaits!”
Percival, Galahad and the others quickly followed Arthur as he rode towards the city. Then, only a few minutes later, after they had crossed over a large hill, they saw the great walled city of Camelot. Darkness had spread over it, the clouds so thick that little sunlight could get through. “The sun rises now men!” yelled Arthur. “And so will the time of freedom and prosperity for this kingdom!”
Arthur stopped at the top of the hill and looked onward, towards the gate, watching now as Mordred and his servants entered into the city, the gate closing fast behind them. “It will be difficult for Lancelot and his men to sneak through the city now, with Mordred and the witch’s other dark servants there,” said Galahad.
“Yes, my friend,” replied Arthur. “But we must have faith. Lancelot is resourceful and will find a way.” Arthur suddenly drew from his side pack the Horn of Kings and blew it loudly for all to hear. After he blew it he could feel the entire land and city shudder under its massively loud vibrations. He could even feel fear come into the witch’s heart. “She can see us now! The witch does now look upon us!”
Smiling, Arthur ripped his red shirt from off his chest, although he had a shirt underneath it, and waved it high in the air for the witch to see. Oddly enough, after Arthur ripped the cloth from over his heart he realized something. He realized that his heart was now a paradox. Despite having been broken and thus now more sensitive and tender, he felt his heart was much stronger and much more determined—de
termined to end great injustice that worked on the hearts of all those in his kingdom. In addition, he found his heart of possessing much more of an ability to relate to the deepest desires and longings of all men.
Because Arthur knew that with her magic the witch could see and hear him, he stood up straight and smiled, loudly declaring to the witch, “You may have the powers of deception, beauty, and frivolity, but you will never rob me of my valiancy, of who I know I am and can be. Let the whole world know that you have failed. My love for you may have drug me into the deepest depths of the earth, but it did not kill me and it could never make me your servant. You have not taken my heart! It still beats for the love of all mankind!” Galahad, Percival and the other men with him were astounded at his boldness.
They then raised their hands and cheered, “For Arthur! And for our hearts!”
The witch, from afar off in the tower of Camelot, looked down with disdain and anger on Arthur. Any joy she had previously was wiped clean from her. Suddenly she heard steps behind her and knew it was Mordred.
“My lady,” he said, bowing. “That fool Arthur has returned.”
“He has returned alive and you are here,” replied the witch.
“Dani, it would be far easier to kill him here, within the bounds of the castle,” said Mordred.
“Perhaps your love for me does not extend as far as I thought, for a true lover would go to war for me despite the odds and would not retreat here to this tower.”
Meanwhile Arthur and his men waited patiently for the gate to open before them. “What if something has happened? It will be very suspicious to the witch for us to remain sitting here,” said Galahad.
“Yes, then let us not stay here, but taunt her,” replied Arthur. Then he had an idea. “Percival, hand me your spear.” Percival nodded, and although he didn’t know why yet he tossed him his spear. Arthur then took his red shirt in his hands. By now it was bloody and tattered, but it would work. He tried to stretch out his shirt as much as possible and then tied it onto Percival’s spear right underneath the pointed blade. He then waved it in the air while he rode back and forth through the field.
The witch looked down from her tower with disgust.
“What is he doing?” asked Mordred.
“He is waving a red flag,” said the witch. “He most likely means to lay siege to this city. But what does he have? He has no army, but a bunch of rambling warriors, warriors that will die before they ever penetrate this city’s walls. But just to be sure… Mordred, take a band of men and go down by the gate. I want you to guard the gate. If he and his men somehow break through the gate you will be ready for them.” Mordred nodded and began to leave the tower room. “Oh, and Mordred, this time don’t let me down. Kill Arthur or bring him to me in chains so that I can kill him myself!” Mordred bowed and left the castle to stand on the top wall of the city.
Several minutes passed with Arthur riding on his horse back and forth on the hill facing Camelot, waving the shirt emphatically. “That fool,” said Mordred as he stood on the wall watching. “He will wear himself out.”
But Arthur knew what he was doing. While Arthur moved around the city and waved his banner boldly in front of the witch’s presence Lancelot and his group had opened the door to the secret passageway and passed secretly and quietly through the castle, taking out the witch’s guards quietly as they passed through. Once all the guards were knocked out Merlin entered the castle. However, he would not pass outside of the castle walls. “Continue without me,” said Merlin softly to Lancelot. “I must now find Alice.”
Lancelot nodded. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” replied Merlin, as he disappeared up the stairway of the castle.
Lancelot and the rest of the men snuck outside of the castle walls and moved in quietly, but quickly through the city. Once within several feet of the wall Lancelot and his men hid behind several houses near the wall. Looking up he could see about forty guards, including Mordred himself, patrolling the top of the wall from where the gate could be raised. This wasn’t a considerable amount for the group, but Lancelot knew they had to be extra cautious. Any action they took against these guards would immediately draw out more of the witch’s servants. Lancelot turned to the other knights and men there and said, “We must separate into two groups and scale the ladders up to the top of the wall secretly. We need to take out as many guards as we can before they notice our presence. Once they do we must kill quickly and get that gate open.”
The soldiers nodded and both groups separated. Once Lancelot was at the top he drew his bow and snuck a quick shot off at one of the guards on the top of the wall. The arrow killed him on impact, which sent him falling off the wall. He got several more arrows off before the guards all around the wall noticed their presence. Mordred turned and saw Lancelot and his men. “What? How did you get here?” But immediately after he said these words he remembered the secret passageway into the castle. He realized that the witch must be wondering how Lancelot and so many of Arthur’s men entered the city. “Guards, it is a trap! They mean to open the gate! Do not let them pass!”
Mordred then drew his sword and began fighting ferociously against Lancelot’s men. But he soon realized that he was losing men fast to these knights and quickly leapt up off the wall to the ground. He knew his only hope now was to get to the witch, so he raced back up to the witch’s palace. Lancelot prepared an arrow to fire down at Mordred, but was interrupted by Sir Pellias, “Lancelot, we need your help. We must get this gate open.” Lancelot did not fire the arrow, finding helping get Arthur into the city a more important task than killing Mordred, no matter how much he despised the traitor.
With all the commotion going on the witch’s eye was quickly drawn to Lancelot and his men that were now heaving open the gate. She realized that perhaps she had underestimated Arthur.
It was then, from the distant hilltop, that Galahad motioned for Arthur to stop. “Arthur, the gate is beginning to open. We must begin our ride!” Arthur quickly put his shirt back into his side bag, drew Excalibur, and lifted it up towards Camelot. Then Galahad, Percival, and the rest of his group, totaling eight, began their ride towards Camelot.
All the riders rode in a “v” formation, with Arthur at the head. They could feel the wind against them, and could see the gate slowly opening more and more. “Beware of the archers!” yelled Arthur. Several arrows flung up from the top of the wall, but none were able to hit them.
They then continued riding faster and faster towards the city, with Hengroen gaining momentum and speed as they moved down through the field. Once the gate was entirely open Arthur and his men entered the city and rode up the cobblestone road, only to stop rather rapidly for a few moments after they passed the gate. To their dismay hundreds of the witch’s warriors waited for them inside the wall. Some were hooded. Others were not, but were men who simply decided to side with the witch. The witch smiled as she looked down on Arthur and his men, who she knew had clearly walked into a trap.
Lancelot and his men up on the wall knew that they could hold the gate open for no longer and released the chain that sent the gate rushing downward. Lancelot turned around and was surprised by the hundreds of the witch’s warriors that stood between Arthur and the castle. He quickly drew his bow and looked down towards his wife Elaine and her followers, who still stood in hiding behind the neighboring buildings.
“You will not be able to escape Arthur!” rasped the witch. Again, the witch’s voice seemed like much more than a voice, for it spoke to everyone in Camelot with perfect clarity and poignancy.
“Surrender Camelot!” declared Arthur. “You failed to make me fall in love with you and you will fail to take control of my city.”
The witch did not reply to Arthur, but yelled to all her warriors, “Attack fools!”
There, near the gate, the chaotic civil war began in Camelot. Lancelot and his men stood with arrows ready to fire from the top of the wall while Arthur and his riders prepared to ride the road up t
owards the castle, through any opposition, no matter how grave.
“Go!” yelled Lancelot to Elaine.
Lancelot watched as Elaine and several other fighters emerged from behind the buildings. Most were in fact women. Some were armed with swords, but the majority had only small axes or other such weapons.
The cheers of Elaine’s warriors echoed loudly throughout the city of Camelot.
Arthur then raised Excalibur and yelled, “Charge! To the enemy!”
As Arthur and his men began their charge Lancelot and those up on the wall fired down a volley of arrows, which knocked several enemies to the ground. Meanwhile Elaine’s army began attacking them from all sides, causing, despite the superior size of the witch’s army, chaos among their ranks.
Many enemy soldiers stepped down and held out their spears and swords to Arthur and his riders, but nothing would deter Arthur from his main goal—reaching Alice in the castle. Arthur and his knights valiantly dove into and through the enemy, swinging their swords down at the witch’s servants and followers. Although it pained Arthur and his knights to fight many of their former friends and allies, he had no choice. He had to get to the castle soon.
What ensued the next several minutes was terrible chaos. Shields were thrown into the streets. Arrows came flying down from the wall and from the top of many of the buildings throughout Camelot. The battle occupied more than just the streets of Camelot. Instead, people fought in alleyways between houses, stables, and churches. Children who couldn’t fight watched frightfully from near their window, trying desperately to remain hidden from view.
The knights all around Arthur fought valiantly against the witch’s hooded servants. Blood was now being shed chaotically throughout the streets of this once peaceful city. The only thing that wasn’t chaotic was Arthur. Arthur rode gallantly on Hengroen down the center of the road that led up to the castle. As he rode he tried to keep his bright sword raised as a symbol to the people of the light that he was to bring—using it only when it was necessary to fend off the evil that threatened him as he ascended the windy street of Camelot towards the castle.
The Poison Rose: A King Arthur Tale Page 20