The Arthuriad 3:2
The Birth of Arthus and the Death of Uthor Part 2
Greetings gentle sentients!
Here is the end of last week’s chapter.
As always, if you like my work feel free to subscribe using the button below.
By some strange chance, it was Ecthelion the Just who saved the king and his son that night. He had been tasked with guarding the royal chambers, and at the first signs that the affray was turning ill for the forces of the king he arose and woke his lord and the child Uthor. Together with Boris the Stout, they proceeded out of the palace and down to the river Uskrim which ran along the southern edge of the city. Even in winter, no chill could have chained that raging current, and it was for this reason that the leaguers of the barons were exceptionally weak on that side of the city.
It was slow-going as the party was limited by the pace of the young Arthus and even with his hardiness and discipline the little prince was wearied by the time they had exited the city by a little wicker gate whose existence was fortuitously not known to the besiegers. This caused some consternation in the heart of Sir Ecthelion as he wished to protect both his sovereign and the child. Inquiring to Uthor about these doubts the king replied that if Ecthelion could only protect one of the royal party he was on pain of being found disloyal to his sovereign to protect the little prince for Arthus was according to the prophecies of Myrdwin the future of the kingdom. The knights with Uthor thought this counsel boded ill for their adventure, but nevertheless swore to the king that they would protect Arthus at any cost. Sir Ecthelion in his foresight had secreted a little wooden boat by a worn down and decaying pier that was hardly ever used by the inhabitants of the city save by some fishermen of the meaner sort. It was within this boat that that good knight hid Arthus under some old salt stained rags.
As Ecthelion and Boris took one last look at the path from which they had come, they could hear wild yells at the wall near where the wicker gate had deposited them. Hastening, they began to assist Uthor their sovereign in entering the rough excuse for a royal barge that would take them upriver to the north where Sir Ecthelion’s estates were still in the hands of those who honored the true king. But suddenly a party of the barons’ forces wielding several firebrands and blood drunk on slaughter and rapine burst out from the wicker gate onto the ragged boards of the rickety pier. In their battle madness they had found the gate and now charged the three men on the pier.
Against them stood Boris and Ecthelion attempting to shield their lord with their bodies and blades. There was little room to maneuver on the pier, and as such the longswords of the two knights were unable to be deployed to their best effect. The shorter swords of the peasant levies had no such limitations. One of the blades ripped into Sir Boris’s mailed chest, despite his being one of the finest swordsmen in the realm. When Sir Boris fell and his stout and portly frame cracked the brittle boards and deposited his body on the shore below, Sir Ecthelion tried to push Uthor into the boat and get him out of the reach of the biting blades. He was unsuccessful and was stabbed in the leg for his troubles. Combined with the wounds that that warrior had already sustained, the leg wound was enough to make him black out from the pain. Thus, he was spared the sight of his emaciated sovereign begging for mercy at the point of the peasants blades. The lackeys of the barons were not inclined to show mercy to their sovereign no matter his condition and dragged him into the burning city in order to make a spectacle of him before the demoralized inhabitants. Some histories say that the king died of the dragon sickness before he could be tortured by the rebel barons and before the One, I hope that that good king was spared humiliation by his traitorous subjects.
When Ecthelion woke there was no sign of the king or the enemy soldiers. He panicked for a brief moment but remembered what Uthor had told him earlier that day that if anything happened to him Ecthelion was to protect the boy Arthus with his life. So in grievous pain but desperate to obey the words of his sovereign Ecthelion crawled on hands and knees to the boat trailing his damaged leg behind him. Cresting the gunwale of the little craft with a moan he cast aside the salt stained rags in the stern. To his relief the infant king was still there sound asleep. Replacing the rags Ecthelion undid the moorings and set the boat adrift along the dark blue surging waters of the great river.
By the grace of the One the boat was carried south by the power of the great rushing currents to the town of Ysdain om Usk one of the old and isolated Brithonic enclaves that had zealously remained loyal to the king. The people of that town dressed the hurts of Sir Ecthelion and allowed that good man to remain with them for a time til he was recovered enough to journey north with the infant prince as they wended their ways to Per Pevel in the northeast which was the largest estate of Sir Ecthelion. There he established the boy with his Cymric wife and young son Cei and there Arthus would live under the name Badaryn for many years until he came of age and accomplished the deed which has come down to us as the Miracle of the Great Sword and which shall be told in the next section of this volume.
Meanwhile, the barons in the aftermath of the king’s death had abolished any centralized monarchy and each of them ruled over their feudal holdings and acted as was right in their own eyes. There was, aside from some minor squabbles, peace of a sort in the land, but it was not the peace of a land under its ordained ruler. Even the common people, though they had much of ordinary life to occupy them during that time, knew that despite all appearances something was amiss. The Jedithite church in Reme which had legitimized the rule of Uthor and his heirs was also adverse to this sudden change in regimes, though its officials in Alba kept quiet about these views for fear of offending the barons. All told, there was the peace that comes with the absence of war, but it was not the true peace of a golden age. That would come when Arthus defeated the fifty barons at Dinas Emerys and cemented his claim as the legitimate heir of Uthor. And of these things I will tell you next time.
Here ends the portion of the Arthuriad that I was able to get written up over Christmas break. I don’t know at the time of this writing when I will have more to share, but I will try to draft some between school and work.
Until we meet again gentle reading, may the blessings of the Almighty go with you!
Best,
Noah