Arthur; the Legend Myth Chapter 2

2.

Arthur moved from the wall and stared at the figure standing on the balcony. The figure was dressed in a grey long coat with the hood thrown back over the white tunic and the belted sandals. He had on a bag slung across his chest.  The figure facial expression was the deep sunken eye with the perched nose bridge and the thin lips. His hairs above his eyes were cropped short to the scalp.

“Who are you?” Arthur called out. “Did you hire these clowns?”

“Me? I have no need of these. If I was to rob you, I could do it in the most creative manner.” The robed figure replied. “Allow me to show you.”

The robed figure stepped over the railings at the balcony and then jumped down. It was unlike the jump of a warrior with the body braced for landing but floated down as if he was lowered by the rope then. He landed next to Arthur and then looked at the wailing hired hands. One was dead while the other two was pleading for mercy.

“Plea no more for you still has your life intact. Be away before that is taken away.” The robed figure shooed them off and then looked at Arthur. “You are most benevolent, Centurion.”

“I am no more of the Legion. I am a common man with little reason to continue on in life.” Arthur pushed the robed man aside to move on.

“Any reason however small or big could make a change to your life.” The robed man voiced out. “Yours, Arthur of Wales have yet to be seen.”

Arthur ignored the rambling of the man and continued in his walk. He was then sober and his stride took on purpose. He strolled on until he reached the destination of his journey. He knocked on the small door there and awaited its owner to receive him. The door was opened and the figure popped the head out.

“Mother of all, thank the Gods you have returned.” The figure grabbed him into the back yard and then he was told that his friend await him.

“She is a pretty one.” The figure had him dragged in placed on a deep smile. Arthur was soon shuffled into the dining chamber there and he was confronted by the presence of the lady seated there at the long dining table. He stood upright and then bowed his head to the lady figure.

“Be at ease, Aron of Wales. I was just passing by and decided to see you.” The lady spoke and motioned to Arthur to take his seat next to her at the table. The lady was a pretty figure in the light blue sleeveless stola. The design was a long pleated dress worn over the intimate tunic. The stola was fastened by clasps at the shoulder called fibulae.

“Thank you, Lady Igraine.” Arthur bowed to the noble lady who had graced his home away from the barracks. “I am deeply humble…”

“Speak no more, Aron. I am not here to listen to the ramblings of the Legion. I am here to wish my …. young warrior the blessing. Have you considered your abode for your own after Londinium?” The lady spoke out. “You were never happier here than with your Legion.”

“No my Lady. I am ever grateful to you for the abode here. I do favor the hard ground during campaigns but accept my apologies for I am ever the peasant’s son.”

“Courteous words to deny me of my gift to you.” Lady Igraine replied with a tinge of sarcasm. “I gave you this for your bravery and in the rescue of myself from the clutches of those bandits.”

Arthur stifled down his amusement on that event. He was on the road to Chester when he stumbled on the bandits plying their vile tricks on the carriages that used that road. He saw the carriage was not of any town’s marking but carried the designs of the aristocrats. There were five bandits then and on the ground were the carriage driver and assistant. Both were dead and the passengers of the carriage were forced to disembark. He counted two ladies dressed in the fine silks and were harassed by the bandits. Without any hesitation, Arthur had charged at the bandits and had drawn his gladius. He was then a junior Centurion in charge of his first cohort of eighty men. He managed to rescue the ladies and also reduced the threat to them with three fleeing bandits. He was late to escort the ladies and be their friends. That acquaintance was soon to become a friendship with the Lady Igraine and her youngest daughter Lady Genevieve.

“I am ever grateful but my stay of service with the Legion had been completed. I will soon leave for my land given to me by the Emperor.” Arthur replied. “I doubt Londinium will be of my shelter soon after.”

“I heard of your request to be given the land at Wales. I adore that too.” Lady Igraine smiled. “Did I tell you that I was from Wales? I was raised there and held my court with Lord Pendragon. Utter Pendragon to be exact.”

With the name of the Lord mentioned, Arthur stood on his legs and looked to the lady. He bowed before her once more and then complimented her.

“I did not know that your Lordship was your …” Arthur found it hard to get the correct phrase.

“Yes, we are his consorts but I am hardly with him. He is a King if I may term him as such. He roamed the lands there to make his own since the Romans have withdrawn to the west of the island.”

“Yes, we heard and his tales are of comfort to the people of Wales for with him as King, he brought peace to them.” Arthur replied with glee to be associated with the figure that was reveled in Wales. “I fancied myself soon to serve him as the commander of the army.”

“A fine choice and he will favor one like yourself.” Lady Igraine smiled. “I must go now. A lady’s chores is never complete even she is a Lady like myself.”

With that Lady Igraine took her leave of the Centurion leaving the young man alone in the abode provided by the Lady herself. He had hardly stayed there unless his welcome at the barracks was most tense. His meal was served in the dining hall of the place. A humble place by the standards of the Roman rich but it was a grand affair for the Centurion whose meals were mostly over the fireside. The hall was adorned by long hard wood table that could have seated twelve and its walls were draped with fine furnishings. A five staff of servants was on hand to serve the guest which was then stood at one. Or it was assumed to be then.

Arthur sat back at the table and then saw the spread from the House. It was a waste of food leaving it there untouched so he helped himself to it. He was tucking in the thick piece of veal when he heard his name called.

 “Arthur of Wales? Are you ready to serve your own?” It was the robed man once more and he was in the dining chamber, seated at the end of the dining table.

“It’s Aron of Wales and to whom I may serve is of no concern to you.” Arthur replied to the robed man. “However, with your presence uninvited to my home is a concern of mine.”

Arthur grabbed the dining knife and tossed it at the robed man. His aim was at the end of the table but the knife did not arrived there. Instead it was misdirected to the far corner on the right. Arthur was shocked at the move and stood up while reaching for his gladius. He had seen his share of trickery and arts but none had demonstrated such move before.

“Good reaction but I am not here to be killed by you.” The robed man spoke up. “I merely asked of your service for I am in need of yours to save some poor souls in Wales. Please hear me out. After all I have traveled far to see you.”

“And who are you, robed one?”

“Murthin’s the name.” The robed one replied. “I much prefer the name Merlin called by the ones on my journey. I held visions of the future and it featured you in them.”

“Does the feast on the table featured too?” Arthur asked.

“It does when I am in need of it.” Merlin smiled. “What vision of the future can be without food?”