Arthur II Book III Chapter 8

 

8.

 

Lamorak was fidgeting at the inactivity there. He had wanted to ride like Arthur, but the task was to guard Camelot. He walked the palisades daily checking on the sentries and then the training on the knights That was what Arthur called the legionaries then. He felt his armor and helmet distinguished him as the commanding Optio.

The sentries he checked on saluted to the uniform. They looked like any other legionnaires except that they were called knights then. 

“We are his knights… Knights of Camelot.” Lamorak sighed. He wished he was back as the Optio and the four hundred eight legionaries will jump and run on his call. It was still but they are not as a discipline as before. The year has passed and they have forgotten a lot about their training. He had called for them to be trained from the basic.

“I don’t care what you may think are now but to me, you are still the Legion.” Lamorak sighed. He was also losing it as a Legionnaire.

“Let us stage our tournament. We will fight with our shield and …. Gladius.”

It worked and the men were all made to go the pace.

“Are you not making things hard for yourself?” Lamorak looked to the legionnaire who spoke. It was Tristan. He had seen the other around and was a good warrior.

“Do you want to challenge me, Legionnaire?”

“With your permission, Sir.” Tristan picked up the shield.

“No shield. We fight with swords.” Lamorak said. “Like true warriors.”

Tristan discarded the shield to face the Optio. Lamorak studied his opponent; Tristan had grown in the shape with wide shoulders and bigger biceps. He was wearing the plain tunic and the skirt with the leather lapels with sandals. The gladius held in his right hand looked weightless and he swung it with ease.

Lamorak flexed his shoulders and swung the gladius. He had been training with the legionnaires but most times they fought with wooden swords or with shields. It was to prevent any injuries but the toys they used then as called by the others may have dulled their ability.

“Hold no quarters, Legionnaire,” Lamorak called out. He then charged at the other with the gladius poised for a frontal plunge. Tristan stepped aside and with that, he deflected the attack. He retreated and took his stance again. Lamorak halted in his charge and looked at the other.

“You could handle a barbarian, legionnaire. Now we will fight like how you were taught by the Legion.” Lamorak stepped towards Tristan and swung the gladius from the right towards the chest. At the last moment, he twisted his wrist and aimed for the waist. Tristan saw the move and blocked with the gladius while he turned his body. He had his right shoulder towards Lamorak and body-slammed it. Lamorak staggered back from the impact but was still on his feet.

“The barbarians taught me that.” Tristan smiled and then went into the attack. He stepped towards Lamorak and swung the gladius from the right downwards to the thigh which Lamorak sidestepped but Tristan had followed with the left fist into the neck. Lamorak staggered backward with his left hand holding his neck.

“I am sure the barbarian taught you that too.”

“Yes, they did but they normally have a dagger with it.” Tristan stepped on his attack which made Lamorak retreated further. He then stopped and looked at the defending Optio.

“There are many things the Legion did not teach us but we picked up at the battles.”

“It’s obvious from what I can see.” Lamorak then lowered his gladius. “You may now train them.”

Lamorak then returned to the Hall. He was met by Tristan there who followed him.

“I did not mean to insult you,” Tristan said.

“No, you did not. I am just out of practice.” Lamorak looked at the other. “What is your name?”

“Tristan of…. Le Savage.”

“Le Savage…” Lamorak looked hard at the other. Le Savage is his family name. His other living kin was Sir Pinel le Savage. He was last known to be at their ancestral home at Normandy.

“I am Sir Pinel’s son,” Tristan explained. “I left Normandy to join the Legion. I was to find you.”

“Why do you seek me? I left the estate ….”

“Soon after your misunderstanding with my father. He regretted asking you to leave.” Tristan replied. “He was unwell then and soon after you left, he died.”

“Why did you come? Your mother needs you. You have a brother who …”

“Who is the Lord of the estate? I came looking for you to reconcile you back with us.” Tristan replied. “That does not matter much now. My brother had sold the estate and moved to Britannica after his mother’s death. He lived in the South.”

“Then you should go and see him.” Lamorak cut in.

“I am happier here in the…. In Camelot. I loathe the life of collecting dues and clinging ladies. I liked it here with the Legion to fight like warriors.”

“We are no more the Legion, Tristan. We are…”

“Knights of King Arthur. I am aware.” Tristan snapped in. “A life better than ever. How do you fare…? Uncle?”

“Call me Lamorak. Do not reveal our link. I am happy …. And miserable at times. I loathe the work here but I need to follow orders. I wish to fight alongside Arthur, not watching his back from here.”

“We should rejoice then.” Tristan offered Lamorak respite from his duty and stepped into the tavern ran by Molly.

“A pleasant surprise to see you, Sir Lamorak.” Molly greeted him.

“Where are Galahad and his brothers?”

“Not seen them since. I heard they went out riding. He won’t be peeking down my blouse anymore.” That was Molly when she was in her enchanted mood.

“What did Galahad do” Lamorak was not one with the finesse to ask politely.

“Nothing and he won’t be ….” Molly had walked off leaving two knights laughing.

Laughter was on the minds of one named Belvedere and Kay with their merriment of meads and meat. The servant brought in a tray of freshly plucked fruits.

“What is this offering? Are we now Gods to eat fruits?” Belvedere bellowed.

“Aye, they think we need a change of feast. I am okay with that as long as it’s not berries. I had my share of them far too long in the forest.” Kay was into the lumber trade where he sold the felled trees to traders. He boasted that he cut own ten trees in a day.

“And I caught a nymph too.” Kay laughed. Their tales were as bright as the morning sunshine in between the canopies of leaves in the forest. It was refreshing and fun.

“Have you met Arthur?’

“Who? Oh, the one they named King. No, I have not. I am not a knight worthy to seek his audience.” Kay replied. “I am a woodsman and above all, a rabble-rouser with the need to feast nightly.”

“You should meet him. He is a great man.” Belvedere looked to the shield that was hung over the high back seat at Gurnion castle as it was called then.

“He held the shield to battle the Anglo Saxon here. They scattered on his arrival.”

“I thought that was at Mount Badon.”

“He did it there. He must have fought off hundreds of them.” Belvedere roared out. A servant had stepped in and then leaned over to whisper into Belvedere’s ear.

“He is here?” Belvedere sat upon his seat.

“Who is here?” Kay asked.

“Arthur is coming to Gurnion.” The news of the King arriving there spread fast among the people.

So was the news of Lancelot returning to Joyous. The settlement there all came out of their homes to greet the return of their protector and benefactor. The friar tagged behind a distance on the mule. He was amused by the people that came out by the droves to meet the knight. He was embarrassed by it for he was never a person looked upon. Once inside the huge structure that Lancelot called his castle, they were greeted by a beautiful lady.

“Welcome back, Sir Lancelot. I am Lady Elaine of …. Camelot.” Lancelot was surprised by the lady who was in the Hall. She was beautiful in the yellow gown and the folded lapels on the skirt.

“I am honored, Lady Elaine.” Lancelot looked to the rear of her at the long table filled with food and drinks. He was hungry but he was looking forward to the high back comfortable seat. He had ridden on the saddle for far too long, and his back ached.

“Please take on being the host. I am after all your guest here.” Elaine stepped aside to let the knight walked past her. She covered her nose for Lancelot who apparently may not have washed for days.

“Oh, excuse me.” Elaine sidestepped to let the friar through.

“I need a drink. And food.” Friar Tate does not hold etiquette for any ladies or men when it comes to his feeding.

Much later, Lancelot was back in his chamber where he remained immersed in the bathwater. He had lain on his aching back with the towel there. He felt the wounds there soothed by the warm water. He let himself go there, sinking in down the tub. While he relaxed, his mind wandered. He had felt remorse with his life and more so, he was guilty with his desire for Guinevere.

“You will need to oust the evil from your soul.” Friar Tate told him. That was how he learned that pain was to be countered with pain.