Tales From Camelot Series 1: PENDRAGON

by Paul Green

  "Have you kept with your training?"

  "I have. Not a day goes by where I do not train." Then Pelleas looked at the long scar on his hand. "I may know my way around a sword, but I am no leader of men. What is my brother thinking!? This is NOT sound military strategy!"

  "You brother honors you, Prince Uther. He has always thought highly of you. You are the only family he has left. He ... cares for you."

  Pelleas looked at Bors in surprise. "Really?"

  "You are bound by blood. I daresay you are the most important person in all the world to Ambrosius. This is why he has sent a column of eighty soldiers to see you safely to his camp. You can see he even spared three Knights. He very much looks forward to seeing you, again."

  "Well, now." Pelleas replied, looking again at his hand. "I ... of course, have been looking forward to seeing him, again, too. I just did not think ... I thought ... you know ... with all his planning and recruiting and strategizing and everything ... I thought he would have been ... busy."

  "Why do you think your brother has kept you away?" Bors smiled.

  "I do not know. To ... keep me out of the way?"

  "No, Prince Uther. That has never been his reason. You are his ... 'little brother', as he often calls you. And he calls you thus with great affection."

  "You are saying he has been protecting me."

  "Yes."

  Pelleas nodded and didn't say anything for a time. Finally he looked at Bors with gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you for telling me this, Bors."

  "Of course, my liege. I thought you should know."

  Pelleas then grinned at Bors. "I have a confession to make to you, Bors."

  "Oh?"

  "I do have a little ... wine ... hidden away."

  And Bors grinned.

  Chapter 18

  Two weeks later

  Prince Uther Pendragon and Captain Bors of the Knighthood reigned in their horses as they reached the final mountain pass, overlooking a hidden valley; where below Uther could see his brother's forces for the very first time.

  Uther began shaking his head in disbelief at the sight of seventy thousand soldiers encamped.

  Bors turned and grinned at Uther. "Impressive, would you not agree?"

  Uther continued shaking his head. "And these are only those on the outside, not counting all those secretly within Vortigern's own army."

  "Indeed."

  "Bors? A moment of your time, if you will?"

  Bors raised his eyebrow. "You do not wish to proceed? We can arrive before nightfall."

  "I need to speak with you a moment, Bors. Now."

  Bors clapped his fist to his chest. "Of course, my liege." Bors then nodded towards his Second, who ordered all the men to stop for a brief rest.

  "Walk with me." Uther said, after they dismounted.

  Bors nodded and followed Uther some distance away, well beyond earshot of the rest of the centuria of eighty men. Once Uther was satisfied they were distant enough, he stopped and looked at Bors.

  "My liege? Is there a problem?"

  "Is there a problem? Surely you jest."

  "My liege, I do not understand."

  "Seventy ... thousand ... men!? Are you KIDDING me!?"

  Bors looked at Uther in surprise. "I ... I do not understand."

  "Seventy ... thousand ... men!? Bors, I cannot command seventy thousand men! Are you insane!?"

  "My liege..."

  "And stop 'my liege-ing' me, already. Bors, I am NOT a General!"

  Bors suddenly began to get angry with Uther. "You are a son of Constans! Constantine was your grandsire! You are High Prince Uther Pendragon! You shall lead these men! It is your duty! Do not think to shirk your responsibility..."

  Uther held up a hand to stop him mid-sentence. And to Bors' surprise, Uther was grinning at him. "Good. That is what I was looking for. That is what I need."

  "WHAT!?"

  "I was goading you, Bors. I need you to speak plainly with me, just as you have done."

  Bors raised his eyebrow.

  "I have been trained with a sword, but I have not been trained as a military leader. I have no experience in anything like this. Let us not kid ourselves; we both know I am not qualified to lead seventy thousand men into battle."

  "You are..."

  "I know who I am, Bors. And I know my responsibility. And I do not shirk what I have entrusted with. EVER! Do you understand me!?"

  "Yes, my liege. I ... forgive me, my liege."

  "NO! No 'forgive me'! I NEED you to speak plainly with me! I need you to tell me what to do! If ever there should be a General of these men, it should be someone like you, not me. You have been with them and have been training with them and leading your men for the past five years! But my brother has named me General. And I understand the reason why. And I respect the reason why. And I am honored that he would give me this title. But you and I both know ... I am no Battlemaster."

  "What are you saying?"

  "I want my brother to succeed and to be victorious. Answer me truly, Bors. Would my brother have greater success at victory with me as his General? Or with someone like you?"

  Bors' eyes widened.

  "Answer me, Bors. And do not lie to me."

  "I ... I ... I ..."

  "Answer me, Bors."

  "I ... I cannot answer that question."

  Uther smiled at Bors. "I marvel at your loyalty to the throne, Bors. My respect for you mounts with each passing day. Here is what I am saying. I shall bear the title of Battlemaster General; just as my brother wishes. Indeed, I shall do ANYTHING my brother wishes; for I am equally as loyal to him as you are. Even more so, if you care to debate."

  Bors smiled.

  "It would be an insult to my brother to turn him down or to not do whatsoever he might ask of me. But I shall be General in name, only. You, Bors, shall be the true General of this battle."

  "WHAT!?"

  "I want my brother to succeed, Bors. I want him to be victorious. I need you. I need you to tell me what to do. And if you see me making a mistake, I need you to kick me in the rear, if need be. But whatever you do, do not let me foul up, in any way, any of my brother's plans. Do you understand me?"

  Bors looked intently into Uther's eyes for a time. Finally he nodded, approvingly. "You are wiser that I had first thought, Uther Pendragon. I had always known you were smart, even when we were children. I may have been larger and of greater strength, but you often managed to outsmart me. I see the last five years have not lessened your craftiness."

  "Craftiness?"

  "You goaded my anger to cause me to speak plainly. You are as crafty as a fox."

  Uther grinned. "Is this your way of saying you agree to my terms?"

  "Do you truly give me permission to kick your royal rear if need be?"

  Uther chuckled. "Only ... do not do it front of the men."

  "Somewhere in private?"

  "Uh ... yes."

  "Where we now stand ... is this private, enough?"

  "Huh? What?"

  Suddenly to Uther's shock, Bors spun around kicked Uther in his royal behind, sending him face first into the dirt.

  Uther instantly leaped up in fury. "WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR!?"

  "Why did you live among peasants!? Why did you deny those women to my men!? Explain that cut upon your left hand ... my liege."

  "WHAT!?"

  "Shall I kick you, again?"

  "WHAT!?"

  Bors reared back his foot to kick him, again.

  "WAIT!" Uther screeched, taking a few steps backwards. "It ... it was an accident!"

  "An accident, you say?'

  "A woodcutting accident! I ... I ... I was chopping wood for a fire!"

  "It was no axe; that cut upon your hand was made by a sword!"

  "IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!"

  "You lie to me."

  "WHAT!?"

  Bors took two threatening steps towards Uther, causing Uther to take two more steps back. "I am skilled at knowing when men lie to me. I can
see it their eyes and hear it in their voice. I have been the hand of Ambrosius to determine who is loyal and who is not. Tell me, again, how that sword cut came to be upon your hand. It was a blood oath, was it not?"

  Uther held up both of hands in surrender. "Fine! I shall tell you the truth. We are far enough away, I guess it cannot hurt."

  "Far enough away from what?"

  "Yes, Bors. You are right. It is a blood oath."

  "To whom did you make this blood oath?"

  Uther took a deep breath, and then looked down at the ground. "I made this blood oath ... to a woman."

  "WHAT!?"

  "You heard me. I had made this blood oath to a woman."

  "A MAN DOES NOT MAKE A BLOOD OATH TO A WOMAN! ANY MORE THAN HE MAKES A BLOOD OATH TO A HORSE! LOOK ME IN THE EYE AND SPEAK TO ME THE TRUTH!!!"

  Uther raised his head and looked Bors directly in the eye. "A husband ... has made this blood oath ... to his wife."

  Bors' eyes widened in shock.

  "And ... to his son."

  Bors gasped. "No!"

  "Yes, Bors. That peasant house we were in? That is where my wife and my one year old son also live."

  "PEASANTS!!? YOU ARE A HIGH PRINCE OF THE REALM!!!"

  "You wanted the truth. Now you have the truth." Uther then held up his hand and showed Bors the long white scar. "When the battle is over and Ambrosius is seated upon the throne, I shall return for my wife and son."

  Bors was visibly shaking with rage.

  "You can strike me down if you like, Sir Bors. But High Prince or not, I have chosen a wife. And I have a son. And I have named him Arthur ... Pendragon."

  "NO!!!"

  "So what is it going to be, Sir Knight? Are you going to strike me down? Are you going to report this to my brother? If so, you might as well take your sword and kill me right now. Because we both know how much he would disapprove of what I have done."

  "I would NEVER do such as thing!"

  "My life is in your hands, Sir Bors. What is it going to be?"

  "NO! That is not the way of things! YOU are the High Prince Uther! I AM a Knight in YOUR service! It is YOUR right to ask for MY life! THAT is the way of things!"

  "You may not agree with what I have done, Bors, but I shall swear to you ... another blood oath, if I must ... that this shall have NO bearing upon bringing the throne back to my brother. I shall not dishonor him or shame him or embarrass him in any way. Once he is High King, if he chooses to send me into exile to live out my days as a peasant, then so be it. I shall do so quietly and without anyone's knowledge, so as not to bring him public shame or humiliation. But as for getting him onto that throne? I am committed to Ambrosius and to that end, all the way; even at the cost of my life."

  Bors crossed his arms and looked at Uther angrily, shaking his head.

  Uther grinned. "Well, at least you have ceased yelling at me."

  Bors snorted in contempt.

  "Though I do not think we were far enough away from the others." Uther said, nodding off to the right.

  And sure enough, a dozen of their men were quickly coming their way.

  "Captain Bors!" shouted one of the two Knights. "We heard shouting!"

  Uther smiled at Bors. "It is your call."

  Bors then growled at him like a bear.

  "Captain!?" exclaimed the first Knight as the men broke into the clearing with Bors and Uther.

  With anger in his eyes, Bors looked at the Knight and said with gritted teeth, "No problem here, Sir Knight. Return to your station."

  The Knight was alarmed at Bors' vehemence and looked back and forth between his Lead Knight and the High Prince, feeling the heavy tension in the air. "Are ... are you sure, Captain?"

  "RETURN TO YOU STATION, SIR KNIGHT!"

  "Yes, Captain!" the Knight replied, backing away, appalled. "Right away, Captain!"

  And the Knights and soldiers almost tripped over themselves and they quickly disappeared back into the thicket towards their horses.

  Bors turned back around and glared at Uther.

  "Thank you, Bors."

  And Bors growled in reply.

  To which Uther smiled back. "So ... shall we join the others? Battlemaster General?"

  Bors snorted. "Lead the way."

  Uther shrugged and walked past Bors to begin heading back. But just as he passed the giant man, Bors growled at him, once more. "She better have been pretty."

  Uther winked at him and continued walking.

  Of course, the only reason why Bors wanted Uther to lead the way back, was so that he could kick the High Prince in his royal rear a few more times.

  Which he did.

  Chapter 19

  It was near dusk when they finally reached the valley floor.

  And waiting for them was High Prince Ambrosius Aurelianus, along with an entire assembly of nearly one hundred Knights.

  As the riders filed out of the mountain pass, Uther was surprised to see the large standing welcoming congregation. And standing at the front of the assembly was his older brother, whom Uther hadn't seen in five years, since they were both only 15 and 13 years old.

  As soon as Uther himself came into view, the entire assembly of Knights instantly dropped to their knees and clapped their fists to their chests in one resounding CLAP - in honor and recognition of the approaching High Prince Uther Pendragon.

  Uther smiled as he approached on horseback while Ambrosius approached him on foot. Ambrosius looked like Uther, was the same height but was a little fuller and had golden blonde hair with blue eyes."

  "My, my, look at you, little brother." Ambrosius grinned. "All grown up now and everything."

  "And I see you have put on a little weight."

  "It is all muscle, little brother. It is all muscle."

  "Uh huh. Sure it is."

  "Get down off of that horse, you little squirt."

  Uther laughed as he dismounted and faced his brother, eye to eye. Ambrosius looked at his grown brother in surprise.

  "Little squirt, am I?" Uther teased. "I think I might be taller than you, now.

  They both chuckled as they slapped their arms around each in a tight embrace. "It is good to see you, little brother."

  "It is good to see you, too, Ambrosius. You look good."

  "Okay, maybe I have been hitting the ale a bit, lately." Ambrosius grinned, patting his stomach. "But I had given the men the past week off for rest and ... more pleasurable activities." Ambrosius grinned, nodding towards a large tent off to the side of the nearest encampment.

  Uther snorted as he shook his head. "Let me guess. A Concubine tent."

  "Of course!" Ambrosius laughed. "A little time off before we begin our final month of preparation. But do not worry, little brother. After we get you a hot meal and catch up, I have my own personal tent of Concubines we can visit afterwards. They have surely been looking forward to meeting you!"

  Uther smiled and shook his head. "Thank you, brother, but ... no thanks. After we are done, I think I might be ready to call it a night. It has been a long journey and I am tired."

  "I am telling you brother, they have really been looking forward to meeting you. Are you sure you would want to disappoint so many women?"

  Uther shook his head at his brother. "Some things have not changed, have they?"

  "Ambrosius looked at Uther in surprise. "What!? What is this!? You do not approve!? Surely you jest!"

  "Thank you for the offer, brother. But ... I have not myself, been without knowing the pleasures of a woman. I am ... content."

  "Content, you say!? What kind of talk is this!?" Ambrosius then grinned at Bors who had just joined them. "Did you hear that, Bors!? My little brother says he is content! That does not sound like a son of High King Constans to me! Perhaps you brought back the wrong man! Perhaps you should go back out and look again!"

  Bors snorted with a scowl.

  Ambrosius raised his eyebrow. Then he looked at Uther. "What is wrong with him?" he asked, referring to Bors.

&nb
sp; "Ah, it is nothing. He and I had a little disagreement awhile back."

  Ambrosius grinned at Bors. "What, did my little brother best you at swords, again?"

  Bors snorted once again with an irritable glance at Uther.

  "Actually..." Uther replied, smiling at Bors, "...you might say it was Bors who kicked my butt."

  And for the first time, Uther finally managed to get one side of Bors' mouth to slightly raise in an almost smile.

  "It is nothing." Uther smiled back at Ambrosius. "Nothing of importance we need to speak about. So tell me; is it true what Bors has told me? That you have managed to infiltrate..."

  "Shhhh." Ambrosius stopped Uther with his hand. "Not for discussion out here."

  "Of course, brother; forgive me."

  Ambrosius punched Uther in the arm. "You are supposed to be the smarter one! Perhaps you really are weary from your travel. Very well. A hot meal and a little catch up, and then it is off to your tent you go. You have the large tent next to mine. But do not worry, little brother, I shall send six of my best Concubines to you to keep you warm tonight."

  "Please do not, Ambrosius. I would prefer to know a good night of sleep. We have much to prepare for in the coming days ahead, do we not?"

  "Of course, little brother. But tomorrow is the week's end and is it our final time of rest and relaxation. Then it is back to business as we begin our final month of readiness and preparations. May I at least get you drunk tonight, little brother?"

  Uther smiled and nodded his head. "A good stout ale would be most appreciated."

  "Oh, you are going to have more than one if I have to pour it down your throat, myself."

  Uther chuckled.

  As they began walking towards Ambrosius' personal tent, Ambrosius punched Uther in the arm again.

  "Would you stop doing that!?" Uther smiled, rubbing his shoulder.

  "I have missed picking on you, little brother. Try and make me stop."

  "Maybe tomorrow." Uther grinned.

  Ambrosius then winked at Uther. "Oh, did I happen to mention that my Concubines shall be serving our dinner and ale?"

  Uther slapped his hand over his eyes and groaned.

  *** *** ***

  The following morning, Uther woke up as the first rays of sunshine entered his personal tent. But he was surprised to discover he wasn't alone.