by Cpt._Funkotron » Wed Jun 27, 2018 5:41 pm
Rather than taking the quarrel outside, a space is cleared before the high table. The Pendragon wants a show. Cornelia's quarreling lovers quickly arm and armor themselves and stand opposite, ringed with supporters on either side and onlookers all about. The surrounding gossip is incendiary. Sir Gelyn salutes Lady Cornelia, and at the drop of Uther's hand, the fight commences. Gelyn clearly has little skill to speak of, but he is driven on by a ferocious spirit to make up for it. He never lands one blow on Persidius, but every reeling strike he takes, he rises and rises again, his blade and his head held contemptuously high even as he is cast down again and again. He refuses any chance to surrender, as his body is peppered with wounds and his upward swings grow sluggish. At last Persidius sends the young knight's sword clattering across the floor with a flick of his risk, but even at such a sheet disadvantage, he does not yield, but crawl after his weapon. Driven by mercy, honor, and the respect of the crowd, Persidius allows him to pick up his sword and stand once more. Sir Gelyn isn't nearly as pretty as when he started the duel, covered as he is in sweat, dirt, cuts, and bruises, but as he stands shakily by the hilt of his sword, one could think from the crowd that he were Achilles reborn. Much like the prince of the myrmidons, it's his ankle that fails the young knight. One more strike, one more cut, one more walloping than he can stand, his eyes roll, he slips, the fighting devil releases his spleen, and young Sir Gelyn rushes to embrace the ground in a witless heap. Cheers and applause fill the hall.
Sir Corneus watches on stoically. King Uther fans his hand and inclines his head in salutation. "The lad could use some training, but I'd say the north can hardly afford to spare his spleen in times like these. Merlin? See to his injur-" the king turns his head to look at the man he is addressing, but finds him gone. "Merlin?!" he rises from his chair and looks around hall and up into the rafters."Where the devil's that devil of mine now?!" he picks up his chalice and looks into it, perhaps hoping to find him there. He doesn't seem to. The hall is cast into silence at the king' outburst, the first time since the duel began, which allows everyone to hear the scuffle occuring in the larder.
"HELP!" comes a shout from doorway. Clay pots shatter, shelves collapse, steel rings against steel, grunts and curses hiss past gritted teeth. Puffs of multi-color smoke seep the doorcrack. Suddenly the sound of several men screaming can be heard, and several thuds can be heard against the heavy oak door in quick succession, like heavy rain on a tent-cloth. Sir Bellias, the captain of the king's bodyguard, and two other knights rush to the door to open it. No sooner have they done so than they are knocked back by a coursing black mass that rushes through the portal like water through a valve. It soars up into the air and swarms narrowly above the heads of the guests, causing many to cry out and duck for cover. The swirling swarming mass squawks deafeningly, for it is a flock of ravens. It congeals in the air and descends into the cleared space before the king, becoming a column of ravens and then in a blink disappearing to leave the wizard Merlin in its place, beaten, bloody, and noticeably grayer of hair. He falls forward for want of a missing staff, to be caught and steadied in the arms of Uther. He swivels his head around and then looks his monarch in the face. "Your grace, there are rats in the cellar, and someone has tried to kill me." he declares in a matter of fact tone before falling limp.
"Guards!-" calls the king, but just before he commands every knight in the shire though the larder door, a pair of figures emerge, one with a swordpoint held to the other's throat. "My King, I've caught the Lord Rat!" announces the captor, a modestly attired gentleman in his late twenties with short dark hair. Eliver recalls him as the man referred to as Morbyn. His captive is well known to the Salisbury knights, he is none other than Sir Alnor, Lord Amig's son and heir, Arcadia's former son-in-law.
"Sir, put up your sword. Bellias, bring him here".
Alnor is dragged before the king with a knight at each arm, the other man follows. He is apparently well known to the crown and so requires no introduction, an is only referred to as 'Morbyn'. No questioning is deemed necessary, as Merlin affirms that Alnor and three others had cornered and accosted him in the larder, gagging him, seizing his staff and snapping it, and coming at him with knives. It was only when Morbyn interrupted and slew two of the accomplices that Merlin was able to gain enough freedom to work his magic. The third accomplish was sent hurtling into a shelf to then be crushed by it when Merlin transformed into a flock of ravens. Morbyn jumps in to explain that he had already wounded Alnor in the side by that point, but in the confusion he'd lost his sword, which is why he was so easily captured. Alnor is told to explain himself.
"The wizard has laid a curse upon the house of my father! It is well known in my land that my mother-in-law, the warriror Arcadia, died with her child, my brother, in our castle when it fell aflame. But it was not so. Twas not Arcadia that caught flame from the keep, but the keep that caught flame from Arcadia! She burned from her innards with accursed flame upon her mother's bed, where in all good nature blood is borne of the womb, black smoke was borne of her lungs like a terrible dragon! All through the fire, until the castle was nothing but ash, she endured in agony still! Only in my embrace did she fall into dust!"
A shocked murmur passes through the crowd, very little skepticism accompanies it. Merlin is bewildered, and then angry, and then struck with an enigmatic worry.
"Merlin, answer for this!" says the king.
The sorcerer's fingers fidget and his face turns a dark scowl. "My ways and my means are mine alone and are answerable to no man." he says, a foreboding and otherwordly menace dripping through his teeth.
The king hesitates for just a moment, and for an instant he might even falter, but the Pendragon is made of sterner stuff than that. "Do you confess to the evils of which you are accused?"
"On the contrary, I had nothing to do with it."
"Liar!" barks Alnor.
"I bore Sir Arcadia no ill will, in fact I owed her a boon. She was a knight of the sword lake, as I'm sure many here will remember."
"Then you are a traitor as well as a liar! No one else in Britain has the power to do what was done, nor a reason!"
"What possible-"
"You made a pact with Roderick! Or he with you! The sword of victory, or something else, in exchange for a curse upon my father's house! Know I well that you conferred at winter court!"
Eyes turn to the Earl of Salisbury. He jumps out of his seat. "How dare you!-". With this accusation, any possibility of the Salisbury knights joining in Alnor's defense is shot.
"You feared my father's power and influence! Need we forget how you dealt with the last thorn in your garden! Ba-"
"ENOUGH!" shouts King Uther, drawing Excalibur up over his head. The hall glows with an otherworldly light, and all fall silent.
"Sir Alnor of Ebble, on the charge of High Treason, you are under arrest, and shall be confined to await trial in a weeks time. There shall the royal Justiciar here your case."
"I demand my right! A trial of arms!" he strains against the men holding him.
Uther chuckles. "If that is your will, Sir Bellias, bring him his arms."
Just then, the man called Morbyn steps forth, at Alnor's side. "My king, this man is wounded. Moreover, he is distraught, and I think half-mad. He is not fit to stand a trial of arms. I volunteer to fight in his stead." a shocked murmur goes through the crowd.
"Even up to death? For this man?" asks the king.
"Yes my lord. For any man, if I be a man."
Sir Alnor shakes free of his captors and rises angry and prideful. "NO! I will not have pity, I will have justice! I'll lick any lackey you put before me, even now!"
"As you wish" says the king. Morbyn turns and shakes his head, standing aside.
"So who will the wizard's champion be eh?" says Alnor, shaking free of his captors and standing up. "The King of the Faeries?"
"No. The King of Logres." replies Uther. Alnor is taken aback. In this moment, he seems to perceive his doom.
Merlin stands shakily.
"My king you cannot be both judge and champion in this case, it would be unlawful and unjust."
"Right you are, Merlin, I shall not be the judge, we are merely the guests of his grace" he nods to Sir Corneus. "The Duke of Lindsey shall preside"
The Duke inclines his head. "As it was my hospitality which was violated, I accept jurisdiction. King Uther may stand champion."
The king's bodyguards all jostle in the sidelines to be allowed to stand and fight in his stead, but all are rebuked. The Pendragon has no champion but himself, the Pendragon needs no champion but himself. His counselors beg him to put forth a subsitute, but he will have none of it. Merlin tries one last tack, faint and weary. "Excalibur is the sword of peace! It was given you to heal, not to hack! To unite the land, not to sever limbs!". Uther responds my ordering his surgeons to take Merlin into their care. He's not in a state to disagree.
Both are armed and armored. Sir Ulfius, Duke of Silchester comes out before the duel is joined to declare that any wager made against King Uther's victory will be taken as an act of treason. That known, the crowd watches in rapt attention.
Uther casts his shield aside, and wields Excalibur in both hands. The duel is over in a matter of seconds. Alnor lets out a great battle cry and rushes Uther, sword arm coiled out his his side. Up comes Excalibur, down it swings, down falls the sword of Alnor, the hand holding it, and the same arm cut off at the elbow. He lets loose a blood-curdling scream, standing bow-legged and head tilted back. Uther crosses behind him casually and hacks the opposite leg off at the knee. A torrent of blood suffuses the dirt floor all around him. Uther lifts his other arm up and hacks that off as well, followed by his other leg. Finally, he casts off his helmet, at drags him up by his hair. "Thus to all traitors!" cries Uther, before cleaving his head from his neck and casting it aside. Merlin has been vindicated. The Sword of Victory has earned it's name.
The Adventure of 487 is at an end.
*** EPILOGUE ***
The next day, the Lady of the Lake arrived at Castle Lincoln, to care for the Wizard Merlin, and gave the king counsel in private. She also briefly tended to Sir Gelyn's wounds, as Merlin would have done if he had not been attacked. Those who were already wary of the accusations against Merlin and had not been convienced by the trial were not put at better ease by the arrival of another sorcerer. The man called Morbyn departs not long after, returning to Cornwall.
The Knights of Salisbiry all went home with their saddlebags packed with Plunder. Persidius and Bleddyn each went home with a cart full.
Leiryn accompanied Bleddyn to Barleyfield, to take up residence as his household knight with his sister. A few weeks later, he wakes up in the middle of a storm and goes to answer a knock at the door. There is no one there when he answers it, but a muddy chest and a raven atop it. The raven flies off, and when opened, Leiryn finds Arcadias' cache of roman coins.
Eliver returned briefly home, stowing his plunder and setting his affairs in order, before setting out on an eastward journey to find his sister.
Lady Adwen rushes out of the great hall of Pillarford to meet her returning husband, and locks eyes with Cornelia, riding beside him. Once the situation is explained to her, she is not angry. She silently and enigmatically listens to what he has to say, and when he is finished, she walks towards Cornelia, and gives her a giant, sisterly hug, and they walk off together gabbing like the oldest of friends. Persidius can't quite put his finger on it, but some small part of him feels that he ought to be very afraid.
**************
END OF ADVENTURE YEAR.
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