Arthur II Book III Chapter 7

 

7.

 

Percival had followed the three locals on the ride to their village hidden in a valley. It was slow for the locals had no rides, so Percival hired a cart with a workhorse that took their journey half the time. His first sight of the village was awed by its spread.

“You don’t live in a village,” Percival asked.

“No actually. We were a village but the settlement grew with the tales of the Nine Witches. And if it’s linked to the Efawg. He was once our defender but he died a horrible death. It was said that the witches dealt his dead and removed his head.”

“Efawg…” Percival muttered.

“He was called Efawg the Brave.”

“I believed there is a tale here yet to be told.” Percival looked at the three men. They avoided his stare and soon he was in the big village. He was greeted by the folks there and even garlanded with flowers. A figure who was short in height and weighed heavier with the wide girth on the waist greeted Percival. However, he holds a sword that trailed the back of him for it was longer than his legs.

“I am Gornement, the guardian of the village named Efawg. And defender of its people.” The man introduced himself. He saw the disbelieved on Percival. “And who …. Are you …. Are you Sir Galahad?”

“I am not. I am Percival the son of …. I am new here.” Percival declined to reveal his identity. He had not called his real name since he joined the Legion

“Looks can be deceiving to the eyes.” The man smiled. “You looked familiar to me. Nevertheless, you must meet my aide.”

Gornement then stepped aside to introduce the other.

“Meet Cwi, warrior and personal guard.” Cwi was a tall figure with wide shoulders and held a broadsword at his waist belt. He looked more like the defender of the village than the earlier one. The one called Cwi stepped up to Percival.

“He does not look like a demon slayer. I think he is more of a butcher than a warrior.” Cwi roared out before he turned to look at the so-named Gornement.

“Surely, our coins could afford a true slayer.” Cwi roared with laughter. Percival reached for his sword but a hand stopped him from pulling it out.

“Hold your hand, Sir. He is not your foe.” Percival turned to look at the one who spoke to him. It was a familiar face known to him from the past.

“It’s not safe to speak here. Come with me to my home.”

The home was a huge structure with a Hall and several chambers. The Hall was decorated with the draping of tapestry and lined on the walls were the family crest and weapons. In the middle of the Hall was a long table that could seat ten persons with decorative chairs. A figure sat there and smiled at Percival.

“Welcome back, Percival son of Efawg. We ….” Percival had drawn his sword and leveled it at the throat of the man who brought him there.

“Is that how you will treat your uncle, the only brother left of your father’s lineage. And at your ancestral home. The Hall of Efawg.”

The man was to the height of Percival in the woolen tunic and wide belt with the sword on it. He held the gray hair and beard that reached his chest.

“I left this place with a promise to myself that I will never step back here. Why did you lure me here with the tale of the Nine Witches…..? My dear Uncle Fisher King.”

“I did not lure you. Those fools were in to lure the one named Galahad. Their pockets were lined to bring him here.”

“I don’t want to know anymore. I am leaving.” Percival withdrew his sword and turned to leave.

“Hold your departure, my nephew. Don’t you want to know about your father’s death?”

“I cared not. I am without him for a long time.” Percival replied. He recalled that he left his home at the age when he could wield a sword. He had taken off with some traders and from there to the continent. He joined the Legion to earn his keep and learned the skills of fighting. It was more of a survival. Even when he was back at Britannica, he avoided the call to return home.

“Efawg was murdered.” The man who claimed to Percival’s uncle revealed. ‘As his wife was before him.”

Percival had blamed his mother’s death on the father.

“I cared not.” Percival continued to walk. He was to see a young girl standing in the doorway. “Who are you? And please step aside.”

“I am Lilith of Efawg.” The young girl spoke. “My mother was killed by the Witches.”

Percival looked at the young girl. He was joined by the man who had brought him there.

“She is your …. step sister. Your father married her mother years after mourning your mother’s death.”

“He was …. He did not. He had not cared of her death.” Percival snapped back. “I was there.”

“He was away fighting a war. He returned to an empty home. You have left the season before.” Percival was a growing lad and waited for eight seasons for his father. He left eventually.

“You were to join the Legion. You fought in their war which lasted several seasons. Do not fault your father. He did search for you but you were not to be found.”

“I left for Gaul and then to Rome,” Percival said. “I wanted to be away.”

“Your father had not given up. He stayed on to defend the village. He built the village. He fought the raiders and he got help. He was met by the witches who offered him their services for the place on the hill. He made the village well and peaceful.”

“Why called me back?”

“Your father was killed and replaced by another. Gornement had taken over but he did it with deceit. He traded with the witches. The alliance of the witches was broken and your father was defenseless. He was murdered many seasons ago. I was made a recluse soon after. I sent those men to find Galahad when I heard of the name. He was said to have slain a demon. There are demons here that needed to be removed. And they found you.”

“You have the wrong warrior.” Percival sidestepped the girl and he was stopped by her on the arm.

“And will it help if I am older than you?” The girl was no more the young girl but a mature lady.

“I am Adriane. You may know me anymore.” The lady was in a red tunic with the tapered ends at the hem. She has a hairband on her hairline at the forehead.

“You looked familiar.” Percival looked at her. “Why did you lie to me?”

“I thought you would look at your past.” Adriane smiled. “Percie…”

Percival was stunned at the memory of his past. It was a wonderful period then. He had a loving purpose with the real sisters. They fed and played with him like true siblings.

“It can’t be….” Percival had trouble finding his voice.

It was also not that easy at Camelot for Gawain. He felt ashamed at his state of despair and took to the stables to get a horse. He was saddling the horse when he heard his name called. He turned and saw Gaheris; his brother and yet his nemesis to his love.

“Gawain, we need to talk.” Gaheris approached the brother but Gawain was not keen.

“There is nothing to talk about. You can have Elaine. I don’t want her anymore. I don’t want to be associated with you. I don’t ….”

“Stop it, Gawain. All you have said is denial. We are family and there is no reason for …. Elaine to be between us.” Gaheris looked at his brother. He reached out with his right hand but Gawain grabbed the hand to twist it. Gaheris screamed out in pain on the wrist grip. He fell to his knees when Gawain applied pressure on it.

Suddenly, Gaheris's instinct kicked in. He reached out with his left fist at Gawain’s belly. Gawain went down clutching his belly with both his hands. Gaheris stood up with his left hand rubbing the right wrist.

“We need not fight. We are brothers.” Gaheris looked at his brother.

“You aren’t my brother anymore.” Gawain charged at his brother. They went down to the rear of the stable startling the horses there. The two brothers rolled over the hay. Their fists were clenched and landed on each other. It was going to get bloody when then the bucket of water was thrown over them

“Bloody fools! When will you ever learn?” It was Galahad. He had heard of the fight and came to look at them. His first reaction was anger and then he tossed the bucket of water. Gawain was the first to recover and looked at the one who was the eldest.

“Leave me be. I want to be alone.”

“Then go. Ride your journey now.” Galahad told the younger brother. “Leave us.”

“As you did than before. You left us and were not there when mother died.” Gawain hit back “I went to look for you.”

“I know you did. I enlisted to protect the two of you.” Galahad said. “You were the foolish one. You took Gaheris. He was young then.”

“We were all younger then and still are. And I was a fool to let the lady stand between us. I will repent but not today. I have my calling to do. Leave me for now. And take care of Gaheris. He is still weak at the physical fight.” With that, Gawain walked to his horse. He mounted it and then looked at Galahad.

“You are still my brother.” Gawain rode off. Galahad looked at Gaheris. He was still on his back.

“You could pull me up.” Gaheris smiled but Galahad had turned to walk away.

“So much for being my brother.” Gaheris sighed.

If it was that simple things can be resolved, Lancelot would not have to serve his penance the painful way. It was called the act of flagellant.

“Your pain to cleanse your soul.”