Lancelot Part 12

Joyous Guards

Everyone of the knights has their own land or at least a castle except Lancelot. He had to stay with King Arthur and daily shared the same table as the King and Queen. His only relief was when he was sent to do tasks that takes him away from Camelot. He relished those moments and but soon falls into despair on the returning trip. There are the ladies in the court but he cannot find solace in them. His irritation did not evade the attention of Merlin who then questioned him when they met in the open yard one evening.

"Sir Lancelot, your mind seems to be pre-occupied." Merlin asked of him. "I may be a sorcerer but I am no healer of the mind or body. Then again, I seen many fair share of my man's problems."

"Merlin, you talk too much." Lancelot told him bluntly. "I have nothing that you can do."

"I could be your friend to hear you." Merlin told him. "I could be that."

Lancelot walked away for a short distance and then he paused. He looked back at Merlin.

"Don't you feel the need to have your own place?" Lancelot points to the castle behind him. "I used to wander the open land and sleep most times under the stars. Now I am ....imprisoned in these walls."

"Aha, now he is talking and I should be listening." Merlin say out loud. "I am talking to myself. Its to tell me that I am needed"

Merlin walked up to Lancelot and then stopped before the knight. He looked back at the castle and then back at Lancelot.

"Its pretty intimidating, that castle. The Camelot and I mean the place where a hundred of over knights who served its Lord." Merlin smiled at Lancelot. "I would like to get out too, but the King needs me there, or maybe I am short of an abode to called home at now."

Lancelot looked at the sorcerer and then shrugged his shoulders. He reckon it was a waste of time trying to talk to someone who is not serious. Lancelot put his hands and begin to walked away but Merlin stopped him.

"I could get you back your rightful lands." Merlin told him. "You are Lancelot du Lac, and also your father was King Ban. He owns Benwick."

Lancelot looked at the sorcerer and the later point to his forehead and tapped it.

"Tell me more, Merlin." So did Merlin as he recount the origin of Lancelot.

"I want my rightful land. I am entitled to it." Lancelot made the statement to Merlin. "I want you to asked Arthur to help me."

"Arthur would help but you have to prove your worth." Merlin told him. "Convince your King that you are worth putting his army to assist you."

"I don't understand what do you mean on that?" Lancelot quizzed him.

"You would." Merlin answered him. "When that happens, Arthur would bring his army for you."

With that Merlin walked back to the castle leaving Lancelot stand there by himself. He did not hear the soft steps that came up behind him until it was near. Lancelot turned around and faced Guinevere standing there.

"I know Arthur. He valued nothing more than to come to aid the needed. All you need to do is to create that opportunity for him. Find his enemy and he would be overwhelm to rescue you."

"Why?" Lancelot had to asked.

"Because all else, he needed to feel he is on top. And you need to let him get on first before you could get on it."

Benwick was not hard to find, it was harder to get there without been spotted by the Franks. Lancelot tried to sneak in disguise but he finds the Franks are suspicious of any stranger. Their knights do not just accept any challenge and they travel in pairs or more in numbers.

He spoke to his cousins; Bors and Lionel and they told him of their intention to reclaim their land too. They are still awaiting Arthur's consent to helped them. Then they told me of the curse of Castle Dolorus; the place is impregnable to assault the Lord of the castle was guarded by a dozen more guards. The guards are so good that none have broken through their defense so far.

Lancelot spoke out loud; "If I cannot get my father's land, then let me grab someone's else land. I am going for that Castle."

Castle Dolorus sits on a high hill that with a sloping side that allowed the inhabitants to ride up to the castle gates, whereas on the other side of the hill is a steep cliff. Lancelot rode up in his armor and carrying his shield with the sword. Bran was with him but Lancelot asked him to wait here at the bottom of the hill.

"Do not come in until you see me here." Lancelot told Bran before he rode up to the castle. 

Castle Dolorus had only three towers unlike other castle. Two of it faced the front sloping part of the hill and the third one is on the rear facing the steep cliff. The towers are linked by a high wall with slots for archers to defend the wall. The height of the walls are about six times the height of man and the towers another two more man' height. That is probably why you do not see the inner structures as they are well hidden if you are looking up at the walls. In design the inner structures consist of a large building which house the Main Hall, library, cooking area and also the Discussion Chamber of the Lord on its ground level. Its mezzanine floor however has nine large chambers which are the personal ones of the Lord and his family, or invited guests. The mezzanine floor is access by two large staircase at the Main Hall and there is the servant's access at the cooking area. That structure despite its large and wide chambers, only requires ten servants in attendance while the cooking area is well covered by the chef and her three assistants.

To the right of the castle is the barracks which housed the dozen more guards with another detachment of foot soldiers who patrols the nearby area daily. Their abode is above the stables which forty fine horses are kept for the use and also the Lord. On the left of the structure is the guards cooking area; served by a nasty looking chef with two assistants, and there is the main store for the food, and also the armory lies there. To the rear of the structures are the bath houses and the basic pits for the waster to be rolled down the steep cliff.

There is the animal pens behind the walls at the front, which the chef choose the needed to served on the table. Its run by a old soldier who limped on crutches, after having served for the Lord in his better days.

Lancelot met the old man who had taken the sheep out for their grazing that morning.

"Hello, old man. I am looking for the castle Dolorus." Lancelot rode up to the old man holding a long staff to balance himself on his limp.

"There is no such castle. Be away, young one or be cursed to serve it forever." The old man shooed him off. But Lancelot dismounted from his horse and took out the small container of wine and bread.

"Surely, you can still share with me some wine on this fine morning." Lancelot can see the gleam in the servant's eye on the offering. After some swipe at the wine and bread, the old man soon began telling to Lancelot of the tale of Dolorus.

The Lord of Dolorus was once a great knight who battle many and lost none until one day, he found himself alone to ponder on his coming years. In his quest to ensure that the castle would survived after his death, he had adopted orphans to be his apprentice; eleven he had found to date who now trained on the courtyard of his castle. Eleven fine boys who would one day be the Lord of this castle, and marry his only daughter, Leoni. She is also his twelfth apprentice albeit one he finds difficulty in training or even to discipline.

"Father, who would I marry when I am to choose?" The Lord was shocked at the words uttered by his daughter who was just ten on years of age. She is a fine lady, whose mother came from a fine family of knights and lords, but she was to breath her last on the birth of their child.

"Why do you asked, Leoni? There are eleven fine lads there. Choose the one who is the bravest of them all and he shall be yours."

"But I choose not to, what would happened to them?" She asked of her father, with her grin and the dimple on the cheeks.

"That is also your choice, I guess. But you would not remained in this castle as this castle belongs to one of them who best the others." The Lord told his daughter of his wish.

"That's not fair, father. I am your child and they are not. How can they inherit something which they are not entitled to." Leoni burst out in emotion and ran off to her chamber. Lord Dolorus tried to called her back but in the end he gave up. She has been like this since last season when he told her that the twelve of them to serve her when he is gone. But she must choose one to be Lord, and to him she would served back in return as his Queen. Since then, she had gone around to command the boys to her biddings and reprimand them if they ignored her. It can't be helped as all of them are older by her in years. They complained to the Lord, but he told them, they must obliged her on his command.

It was the first break in the joyous mood among the boys.

The second was to come when a young lad was found outside the gate of the castle; near death and with a feverish body. The Lord asked he be brought in and tend to by the servants. It took them weeks to rejuvenate the lad and his health, but he did recovered. His first words were to thank the young nurse who tend to him daily and fed him his broth. Lord Dolorus asked of whom did he referred to, and was he surprised when told that it was Leoni who was the nurse.

Soon the boy recovered and became part of the household, and he was always asked to attend to the young lady. He did this without a whimper although seen by the Lord, his interest lies in the courtyard with the other boys. Lord Dolorus then offered him the chance to train with them as his thirteenth knight, but Leoni protested that she needed her servant to do the works.

For that, she was reprimanded harshly by her father. His words were loud and heard by all in the castle; "Till the man is your King, you are no Queen to command on anyone."

His harsh words spoken in rash was not forgotten by Leoni who then watched at the side to whom she would make her King so she can be the Queen to command them all. During the coming years, she also flirted with the growing lads, and holding no one dear to her heart, until one day, she saw her feelings was more towards the last knight. He was named Jude by her father. Jude turned out to be a good fighter and fast to learn any weapons of use.

Jude as a growing lad, also found his interest in Leoni developing as well. But there was more just the two of them as there was another who was keen on her; his name is Ben. Soon the day came when the thirteen lads grew to become man, and the it was time for them to receive the title of Lord Dolorus. A tournament was setup and the men fought with zeal to win the coveted title. Finally it was down to Jude and Ben in the final round, and just before the fight was to take place, Leoni walked up to Ben.

"If you win, I am still not marrying you. My heart belongs to Jude." That irks the young man who was to go to battle with the ultimate prize of securing the hand of this lady. Ben glared at Jude who was warming up for his final battle; he knew naught of what Leoni said to Ben. Ben came out charging at Jude swinging his sword. Jude was fast to react with some blocking moves as he move the fight to the center of the arena. He then used his weight to push Ben back.

"Wow! You are keen to win this contest." Jude jokingly remarked. "She must had meant a lot to you."

Ben did not reply but came on strong again, and this time he had the upper hand on the moves. He finally did it; he had a swing on Jude which did not foresee in the move, and the blade cut into the flesh at the right forearm. Jude stepped back to hold his wounded arm and looked at Ben. It was the first time in this contest, that anyone was hurt.

Ben did not stop there as he came in with more swings which Jude blocked while retreating back. It was Lord Dolorus step in with his sword to block the swing that Ben stopped his moves.

"What had overtaken your manners, Ben? You are a senior of this group and yet you act like a young fool here." Lord Dolorus countermand the young man. Ben looked up to his mentor and Lord, and then at Leoni. He threw down his sword and walked away.

"Stay your step, young man. Address me before your leave, or leave forever from my castle." It was not something that was ever heard in this castle. Ben paused in his steps and then he turned around.

"Thank you for taking care of me but I have to declined the honor of being the next Lord." Ben then walked off to the gate and out of the castle. The contest was called off and Lord Dolorus took his leave to go back to his chamber.

The issue did not end there.

Jude and Leoni eloped that night from the castle, leaving the Lord himself heartbroken. He looked at his remaining ten apprentice and told them they are free to leave or stayed on. But there would be no Lord in this castle until that one can defeat all of them in battle. He also told the apprentice to take on each of their own apprentice so that there would a generation of knights to carry on the tradition. It has been three generations now, and there are the twenty knights in the castle.

"Old man, were you one of them?" Lancelot asked of him.

"Yes, I am. I was part of the ten who was with Lord Dolorus. My other brothers have all died, but not me; age does not kill me. It would be the edge of the sword that can do it." The Old man smiled at Lancelot. Then he added in. "The castle could do with a new Lord. But promise me one condition; please change the castle name. Its too dreadful to remember."

Soon Lancelot find himself before the gates, and to his surprise, it was opened for him. He walked in and was confronted by ten armored guards armed with swords. Lancelot removed his waist belt and pulled the scabbard off with the sword inside.

"I shall fight you all with this. Come and get me, lads." Lancelot challenged the guards, but none charged him yet.

"So be it." Lancelot waits no more as he charged at them. He thrust the first guard he encountered with a jab at the right armpit causing the guard to drop his sword. And then he swing the scabbard to hit the another guard at the side of the face. By then he was standing among them and he crouched down to avoid the swinging swords and used his current leverage to swing his scabbard into two knights knees causing them to fall on the others.

Lancelot did not stop just there as he swung to the right and kicked away at the fallen guards who was caught in the unexpected moves. Lancelot stood over one fallen guard who was trying to get up and find the scabbard coming down hard on his nose bridge. Lancelot climbed over the other fallen guards and looked at the ones still standing up. There were three of them on the other side.

"I am having fun. Its a joyous day." Lancelot shouted out as he charged at the trio and body slammed into them, like a ram. The all fell down in a heap of bodies on the ground but Lancelot was already using his gloved hands to knock those guards in the face. Then he used their body as leverage to stand up before he he laid his eyes on those there.

"You are not really a worthy foe." Lancelot smirk at them. He was stunned when he heard the other voice to challenged them. There was an armored guard standing there at the door to the Hall. He was inviting Lancelot in.

Inside find the ten armored guards standing in a row. Four of the guards were armed with spears and shields, while the six were holding either a mace or sword.

"My name is Mason, and we are the second generation of guards for the castle. We offered to fight you but we would be fair to you. We would not attack you together but we would elect a champion among us to fight you." The one who invited him in spoke out to him. "And they have selected their champion."

An armored guard holding a mace stepped forth, and he took out his shield to approached Lancelot. The fight was bruising and long, with blows exchanged with their armor or shield; both warriors were quite well matched in the skills. The armored guards of Dolorus have practiced their skills here among themselves, and they hone it to near perfection. That accounts for fine moves that he made but Lancelot learned his fight from various battles, and there is never one battle which is the same.

Deftly, Lancelot cornered the guard and then he feigned to thrust at the guard which the mace was brought down to block it; Lancelot at the last possible moment let loose of his scabbard and released his sword. The mace hit at the thrusting scabbard but failed to see the coming blade which stopped just before his neckline.

"Do you yield?"

The Old man sat there with the two generation of guards to celebrate the victory of Lancelot at the Castle. The Old man picked up the goblet and choose to toast the victor.

"Many years have passed since we have a Lord at this castle. Many have tried and they lost in their bid, but today, we surrender that to this knight, Sir Lancelot to be the new Lord. His skills are unmatched and we are honored to be humbled by his fight." The Old man looked to Lancelot and continued. "My Lord, today you have also brought us joy to the Castle after so many years. We have a wish for you. Do you remember my condition at the field?"

Lancelot looked at the joyous guards who sits before him at the Hall. He thought hard and then he made his announcement.

"As of today, Castle Dolorus shall be named Castle Joyous. Its guardians shall be named as the Joyous Guard. There would be always joy in this Castle."

Lancelot raised his goblet and drank to that name.

In the cooking area, there was the old chef and his wife who heard the announcement. The wife held her husband and smiled.

"I am happy that the Castle is back to its glory again." She held him tighter as she recount the event that made it before. "My father would be happy now with his new Lord. Just as I am happy with my Lord."

"Leoni, do you missed the life you had then?" The mate of her asked but she shook her head.

"Glory and honors are never my liking, but love and kindness is what I cherished. We made the right move then, as we do not want to live a life fighting off challengers to our home. We like ours peaceful and quiet."

"I agreed with you, my love. I given up my sword for the ladle and now my children grows well with my cooking." They both laughed at their changed of destiny from Lord of the Castle to Lord of the Cooking area. They came back here on the death of the previous Lord, and assumed this new identity. Just as Ben did to become the shepherd for the new flock of Guards.

Lancelot Part 11

In whom we may serve.

"Welcome to the Royal Joust." King Arthur remembered he said those words to the assembled knights who had come here to test their wits and skills to win a place at his round table. That was this morning and now at this late hour, he finds one contender standing before him. The knight is dressed in black and has just won his joust against one of the last surviving knights in the contest. The he faced the King himself in the last joust.

Both the knights took to their places and they rode hard at each other. Their lances clashed against their shields but none was broken or toppled over. They rode to the end line and turn their mounts. They took the second ride and this time only Lancelot lance hit the King's shield, but he managed to hold onto his saddle.

It was the final third round, and the crowd watching was silent. Each knight adjust their sitting and then they rode down the line to fight. At the last moment, Lancelot heard a voice in his head that say to look left to the stands. He did as he was told and he saw a glimpse of a lady. It was also then the King took his lance on Lancelot's chest and toppled him over. The crowd cheered hard on the victory of their King while the Lancelot in his black armor slowly got to his feet helped by Bran to re-mount his horse.

"Come forth, Black Knight." Arthur called on the knight to step forth. "You have fought well and I am honored to offer you a place at my round table."

"My name is King Arthur of Camelot." Arthur spoke of his name loud for all to hear. "Please tell me yours so that we can properly addressed you in our talks."

The Black Knight removed his head cover and then he announced his real name.

"My name is Lancelot Du Lac, and this is my disguise to find me more foes to improve on my skills." Lancelot told everyone who was present. Immediately the whispers went out among the knights that they have lost to the knight by many to be the greatest and if not the best even compared to Arthur himself.

"Lancelot? Is that you behind the mask?" Arthur exclaimed in joy knowing that now he has now ensnared the best of the best into his side. "The moment I have been waiting for has finally arrived."

Arthur stepped off the podium to greet the knight he has been hearing of but never met till today. He could feel the resentment of some of the knights to have this Lancelot accorded so much honor and this may unbecoming of his King' position but he cares not for their thoughts. Lancelot is a proven ally to have at his side and he is glad the knight has made that choice. He was always looking to his back if Lancelot would join his enemies which would make his work more tedious.

Lancelot on seeing the King coming to greet him, immediately dismount and went on his knees. He bowed his head to the King of this land.

"My King." Lancelot greet Arthur who stepped in front of him.

"My good knight, Lancelot. I welcome you to Camelot." Arthur reached for the shoulders of Lancelot and pulled him up. "None of my knights need to bowed before me. We are all equal on the round table and your seat awaits you, Sir Lancelot."

On the mentioned of the name Sir Lancelot, the crowd around the galley all roared to life. In approval of the appointment of the new Knight. Arthur was beaming with pride that he called on his Queen to come forth to see the new knight.

"Come, Queen Guinevere. Meet Sir Lancelot."

The lady who stepped out from behind the King was ever deserving to be a Queen with her beauty and manners. She is about the height of the King and wore a flowing green gown that has emeralds sewn into it with design of a sprouting garden with red and yellow emeralds to denote the blooms in the garden. The Queen is tousled up in a soft curls that reached to her waist yet the tiara that sits on it enhanced the blonde shades with its golden gleam. The tiara comes with matching of seven colors stones that were nicely crafted in at the front. Lancelot was sure she looked like the lady he glimpsed just now.

"Guinevere, Sir Lancelot." Lancelot went down on his knees again and reached for the Queen's extended hand to lay his lips on her index finger. He then looked up at her and was caught up by her beauty in his eyes. She has beautiful green eyes which the gown have enhanced the beauty of it, to a set of full lips that Lancelot wished he could actually touched with his.

"Sir Lancelot, I bid you welcome to Camelot." The Queen has spoken and her voice is low and yet sweet to be heard by the person.

"Thank you, my Queen. Its my pleasure to be here, and to serve you." Lancelot did not why he said the last words but it came out naturally.

"So it shall be, Sir Lancelot." The Queen replied to him.

"Come my Queen. The day is getting dark and we must be back in our Hall for the grand feast." Arthur interrupt the Queen and Lancelot on their conversation. "All are welcome to join us tonight. Sir Lancelot shall be my honored guest tonight."

The feast lavish and the spread an unending flow of food and drinks for the hundred over knights who chose to serve their King. More so the main table was the round table where thirteen knights sat and rejoice as equal; King and knights. Lancelot sat next to the King who never cease to cheered him on almost every round of drinks.

"My King, there is none more to cheered on me. But I must do one for my brothers who sits here with me. To all of us here in his Main Hall. I hailed to you; the glorious days would come more and the victories all the more sweeter,"

The Hall roared to a new resounding level that even the servants at the cooking area were also cheering at the new merriment.

It was then Lancelot turned his body to faced the Queen sitting at the back of the Hall. He raised his goblet to hers' and smiled. She smiled back and he was enthralled by her.

"Sir Lancelot, if I may." Lancelot looked across to the one who called on him. "I am named Merlin and I would to toast to you. Never a finer knight and may he served the King loyally."

"He shall!" The Hall roared to the toast while Merlin took his drink to his own seat a table distance from the Queen on the right of her's. Merlin could not resist glancing at his Queen too whom he noticed is staring at the new knight. Merlin sat down with a heavy thought that is on his mind. He hopes that what he had seen would not materialize into an event, or this kingdom would collapse.

Merlin then recalled his own personal tragedy; his love unrequited from a lady he met at this Hall. She sits across the Hall in a silvery blue gown with a matching head dress that shines with the sapphire blue stones. She is not exactly what you termed as a beauty but she is enticing to one if you had spend time with her. She is Utter Pendragon child next to Arthur although they shared a different mother. She is like her father; articulate and cunning in the ways of the man and the land. She knows how to carry herself in any situation thus winning the heart of the cold merciless sorcerer. Merlin was one who swore off vixens and whores as he may termed some, that have laid before his eyes, but not Morgana. Yes, that is her name and she had vexed even the sorcerer with her charm. He would had not been so cautious of her if she had not shown her aims to overthrow her half brother from the throne for herself. That is the King that Merlin have sworn to protect at all cost including his own love for Morgana.

"Hello, Merlin." He looked up to see the very subject of his thoughts standing before him now. "Surely, the protection of the King does not need to cover even his Queen interest."

"Pardon me, Lady Morgana." Merlin pretend to feign ignorance of her veiled meaning. "I am sure the Queen's interest in the King are their personal affairs and even myself cannot be involved."

"True and most clear in the words, that when its comes to love, one must never intervene in its development or even downfall." Lady Morgan stressed on that last word and then she leaned down to whispered into Merlin's ear. "I missed you on my bedding."

Merlin blushed in his face on hearing of her direct statement. Surely this woman must have some dignity in her. How can she whispered such words here when we are within eavesdrop of many although we may be whispering.

"Your colors suits you, Merlin." Morgana winked at him, as recalled she wore a pinkish night dress on their first rendezvous. He also said to her these words; 'like the pink petals on the flowers, I shall peel you off in layers."

Merlin excused himself saying that the King needs his counseling now. Its true that Arthur did signaled him but it was not for counseling, but to assisted to the personal chamber. Once they were in the private chamber of the King, Arthur sank down on the high back seat and remarked to his adviser.

"Tell me, Merlin." Arthur asked as he struggled with his drunken mind on the things he wants to ask. "Can I best Lancelot in battle?"

"You are the best among the very best. Of course, you....." But Merlin was shut off midway by the calling of Arthur.

"Merlin, you are my counsel and answer me as the truth shall come from you on this mere stranger." Arthur command him.

"I don't really know, my King. There is no denial that Lancelot is the best of the best, but he has never fought you before. If he does, it may be an even fight." Merlin told the King.

"Don't patronize me. I am your King." Arthur shouts out again. It was his shout that brought in the Queen from her own chamber.

"My Lord, why are you shouting? Are you drunk?" Queen Guinevere spoke out of concern as she walked to her Lord.  They are newly wed but they still occupied separate chambers.

Merlin on seeing the timely arrival of the Queen excused himself to leave the chamber. Arthur on seeing the sorcerer leaving tried to stop him but the Queen had stood to block his view. He reached up to push her away but in his drunken condition, he ended only swaying his body instead.

"My Lord, you are unwell. Let me put you to your bedding." Queen Guinevere reached to hold up her Lord but he was too heavy for her. He threw up on his earlier meal onto the front of her gown. She reacted by stepping back and seeing her new gown all covered with the vomit of Arthur. She was upset and yet she felt disgusted with his behaviour.

"I am sorry, Morgana.....No, I meant Guinevere." Arthur corrected himself as he sank back in the seat. Guinevere on seeing at his sorry state got up to leave but Arthur stopped her with his command.

"You are not to leave this chamber until I have expressly said you could." Arthur stammered out his words. "My tunic! Its reeks of vomit."

Arthur took the hem of his tunic and tore it off his body. He has a fine body; taut with muscles and broad at the shoulder. He saw that his leggings are also soiled so he tore at them too. He stood there in his naked glory and marveled at himself in the polished metal piece that reflect his image. He pride himself of keeping fit and he has the tool to prove he is not of any man, but a Man. He then saw Guinevere standing there looking at him.

She seen his look before and she knows she is trapped here in this chamber. She wished she had not come and let the evil one takes his life away then, but she acted out of care and concern. After all, he is her Lord, and she is to obey and cherished. Arthur walked towards her and reached with his hand for the front of her gown. He pulled hard at it and tore off the green gown off her body. He then grabbed her by her breasts with both his hands and pulled her to him. He laid his lips on her; forcing his tongue into her mouth. He kissed her hard as he forces his left leg in between her legs. He rubbed himself raw against her flesh while his hands are kneading at her breasts.

He then pulled away and pulled her towards the bedding but not onto it but over it with her back towards him. He stood behind her and pushed her back forward so he can raise her for his thrust. He laid it in her and he grunt like a hog at the pens. He mauled at her back with his nails and then grabbed hold of her hips to released his seedling into her. He then pulled out and fell on the bedding next to her. He did not noticed her teary eyes, nor did he care of her unsatiated lust.

"I am still the best.. And maybe my son would be too." He muttered to himself as he falls to sleep.

Guinevere stood up her body and walked over to her torn gown. She picked it up and then threw it in into the fireplace. She then walked to the door and out of the chamber back to her's. She cares not who may had seen her as she cares not for her modesty anymore. Or anything that would matter at all.

Or so she thought, but she did not see two shadows who saw her walked by in her naked body. One was Lancelot who was drunk and making his way to his chamber when he got lost in the corridors. He stood in the corner which he had just came by, and saw the Queen walking to her chamber. He may be drunk, but his sights are still good and clear. He could see the beauty of the Queen that many had a chance to see, but he also noticed that she looked upset. He looked to the door which she had come from and he went over to peek in. Its the King chamber and that frighten him to sober up fast and fled himself down the stairs to the Hall.

There was another who saw both him and the Queen; she was Morgana and she is smiling. She walked to her half brother's chamber and walked in. There he is lying there with all the glory of his body showing. She looked at him and then she turned back to walked out. She close the King's chamber door., and walked to her own chamber. She opened the door and walked in.

She saw him on her bedding and she smiled.

"It looks like you also missed my bedding." Morgana spoke to him as she pulled the shoulder strap off her gown. "Is that your wand or am I imagining things? Surely with that length, you could spank me with it."

Merlin did not have to call on any of his spells as there would be none to prevent him from committing to this tragedy.

Bran was shown his sleeping quarters and its among the others in rows of straw beddings. He was shown a place in the middle and he laid his personal belongings at the foot of the bedding. He noticed the others are coming and some of them drunk from the wines. They all went to their assigned bedding and removed their tunic leaving on their leggings on before they climbed on the bedding. Bran on noticing that also did the same, and he soon lay down on his side. He looked across him and saw the other person that grinning at him. He remembered he was Sir Percival' squire but he could not remembered the name.

He tried to search his hazy memory for a name when he felt a body was sitting astride him on his shoulder. Another one also came and sat on his knees. He tried to shout but a cloth was stuffed into his mouth and he left his body moved to the front side down. He felt the one sitting on his shoulder move to firmly pinned him down while the one on the knees have gotten up but now pulling at his left leg. His right leg was pulled too by someone but he knows not who.

Then he heard the tearing of his leggings to his knees and extra cloth was placed on his groin to raised him up. He fought hard when he felt fingers at his buttocks dabbing in some oily stuff. But nothing was compared to what was thrusted into him. He screamed out loud but no sound came of his mouth. His eyes were crying as the humping on top of his body began. He lost count of who and what but he knew he felt very ashamed at himself. It was not that act was degrading but he actually enjoyed the punishment.

Just before he slept, someone whispered into his ears.

"That is for your Sire who thinks he is the best. Every time he wins over ours, you would be made to suffer."

Bran slept that night although he was sore, he was glad he had found a way to serve his own needs.

Lancelot Part 9

The Pain we inflict.

The duo came was riding on the plains when they heard of some shouts for mercy. They took to gallop their horse over the rise on the plains and came upon two monks trying to get to their cart. There were three men who looked like brigands were besieging the cart from the monks. The brigands were taunting them with their drawn swords as they continue pulling the cart. Lancelot need no more persuasion as he rode down to confront the brigands. They saw him coming and they took to their heels immediately in the other directions.

"Thank you, Sire." The monks stood in front of the approaching riders. The monks were frantic on stopping the riders from attacking the brigands. Lancelot reeled in his horse and dismounted. In front of him are two frail looking monks wearing the simple brown frock and wooden sandals.

"We are from the Order of Castell. My name is Pieter and my companion is Marko. He is under the oath of silence and would not speak to anyone." The one who spoke looked older and lack of hair on his head top. "We were on way back to the Order when these brigands came upon us. They think we were carrying gold from the town but we have are only food and wine for our Order given by the town folks."

Lancelot looked to the departing brigands and decided that there would be another day to catch them.

"Let us escort you back to your Order." Lancelot offered the monks his protection.

"Knight, welcome to the Order of Castell." The duo were welcome to the abode of the monks. Its a humble abode for the monks, but to the knight, its a high tower on top of the hill overlooking a hidden valley. The tower five levels housed their chambers which two are for living uses and the other levels housed their works of generations which include scrolls and prized literary works. With these treasures, there should be hunters for it, but the tower is well guarded by a pack of hounds that the monks maintained. Another thing is that what is treasure to one may be just worthless scrolls to another. Beside the tower, are several lower structures which house the worshiping hall and workshops. The monks here are few but they maintained a number of gardens and yards with their gardening skills.

It was Bran who convince Lancelot to stay for a while as he wants to read the scrolls. He used to learn reading when he was at the Lake. He has been doing when the situation permits when they were out here but he had never come to a place like this.

While Lancelot spend his time to improved his skills, Bran saw himself to the scrolls and he had Pieter for company. It was then he learned something which would change his life.

"What was this Black Death?" Bran asked the monk.

"It happened not long ago when many of our people perished then. It was a time of mourning and then the land heal with the people on it."

"Its said here that there was a ritual called ..............flagellation. It was to help in keeping the death away." Bran asked he read more on the ritual.

"It was then, but that ritual was never meant to dispel evil. But in faith, it expunged out their time to be spent at the Underworld." Pieter explained. "I have many a times do it for the ones who asked of my service. Its my duty to serve them."

Pieter got up and lowered his frock to show the scars on his back. He has been doing it for years now and each time he does it, the healing times take longer than before.

"Pieter, show me."

Bran was to start his lessons on it as he felt that in his life, he had committed many sins, and would like to cleanse of them.

Lancelot swing the sword like an extension of his hand as he grew more confident in Arondite. He was doing it when he saw the mute monk doing some practice of his own with a long wooden staff. Lancelot watched as the other used his staff like an extension of his limbs and swinging it overhead in perfect sync moves without dropping it. What amazed Lancelot when he saw the monk swing the wooden staff down from his head to the ground, and causing a long welt on the soil with dust bellowing out on impact.

Lancelot clapped his hands on the seeing the demonstration causing Marko to paused in his training. Marko bowed his head and took leave of the yard before Lancelot can speak another word to him.

"Marko is a shy one." The voice spoke from the hidden corner. Lancelot looked over and saw a older man sitting under the shade.

"I apologies as I did not see you, old man." Lancelot spoke to the old man, who smiled with his toothless grin. During his stay here, Lancelot had only met 

"There no need to apologies as the few of us who are here prefer to remain unknown." The old man speaks out. "I seen you here the last two days, which is most unusual for any guests or lodgers."

"Lodgers?" Lancelot queried.

"Yes, there are. They come here for the rituals. They need their sins cleanse and to shorten their time in the Underworld when they depart for it. Are you one too?" The old man asked Lancelot. "You are a knight and there are times when you may had needs of it."

"No, I am not like them. I came here on the request of Pieter and would be leaving soon." Lancelot correct himself. It was then the monks brought out a body covered with streaks of bloody welts on the back and they left the wounded man in the yard faced down. The old man excused himself and walked over to the wounded man. The Old man crouched down next to the wounded man and recite some prayers, then later he reached to his robe to remove the poultice that he would apply at the wounds.

Lancelot watched the old man worked his healing and then the old man retired to the side to watch the wounded man heaving in breath. Lancelot stood by the wounded man.

"He would spend less time at the Underworld. God has forgiven his penance and now soothe his pain." The old man spoke out to the wounded man. Lancelot heard him but he was confused on it. How can one be given forgiveness and why in this state. Its not like the last rites when a person is dying, but this man would live although he would need time to recover.

"Old man, please tell what you have just said. I am ever confused on what did transpired here?" Lancelot asked of the old man.

"If I may, Sire; let me take you into the shade and I would explain to you this ritual."

Flagellations had been a common method of punishment in the Pagan world. There were instances that it was usual punishment inflicted on slaves since even the Roman days. The first recorded writings of it was on the Scythians who on returning from their long expedition in Asia, finds their home and lovers are taken over by the slaves. The Scythians find that their new war was at their own homes, and the lashes was deemed to be more fearful than the iron blades. Those they could not conquer with the terror of lashes were subdue with the blade as a final count of action.

This practice have not being only on one nation but across to even the Persians who uses it on their own people. In times, it was used by conquerors or generals to gratify themselves for their victory over the defeated, and its also a moral boost for their troops to see the defeated subject to such degrading punishment. As this practice widens in use by many civilisations, then the ingenuity of designing more exerting tools came to fruit; the lashes were given prominence in the degree of punishment it should bring out. From the flat strap of soft leathers to the hard oxen straps as like those use on the former to over their bulky weight. The choice of the straps was the prerogative of the inflictor and the more harsh the need may call on the more painful ones.

During that time, there was a shift of it towards a rite to perform this in the public as a penance. The practice supposedly grew out of the floggings administered as punishment to erring monks, although flagellation as a form of religious expression is an ancient usage. Among the flagellants it was an extreme expression of the ascetic ideal. It was sanctioned by the Holy Houses, however it did not appear until more during the Black Death. These advocates of the ritual, soon marched into prominence with their display of public flagellation while exhorting the people to repent. It was soon widespread and as more indulged in it, there were also some who abuse the true intention of it. It was then the authorities of certain land took action to stop it but the rites are still practiced by some sects or Orders in their own inner walls.

Lancelot asked on further if that would actually lessen his load in his soul when he carries over to the other world.

"My son, no burden is ever reduced unless you do it by yourself. If pain would be your method, then do the best of it to clear your penance." Those words ring in the mind of Lancelot as he walked back to his chamber. He reached his own door and hears the sound of lashing. He barges in and see Bran stripped to his leggings and kneeling on the flooring, was lashing himself on the back with a leather strap.

"Bran, stop it! Why do you punished yourself?" Lancelot grabbed the lash from Bran's hand and threw it aside. "Are you mad?"

"No, Sire. I have sinned and I am doing what I can to reduce my penance." Bran spoke out meekly from his kneeling position. "Please, Sire. Do me the lashes as I find it difficult to master it myself."

"This is an absurd. I refuse to partake in your game, Bran." Lancelot reached for his squire and pulled him up. "Have we not suffered enough in the battles we fought than to self inflict more of it by ourselves."

But Bran pulled away and knelt down on his knees again.

"I have sinned, Sire. I need to be punished." He cried out in despair.

"Of what sin did you commit that I need to had you punished?" Lancelot asked him back.

"The sin of desiring you, Sire." Bran cried out in his words. He then fell forward on his face and cried out his emotions. "I have desired you...... I saw you with thar wench. Its not fair... You are mine. All mine......."

Lancelot on hearing of that, could not control his rage. Its improper for a man to desire another. Its against their beliefs and above all, not condone by many. He saw the lash on the flooring and he picked it up.

"Blasphemy! You impudent..... Oaf!" Lancelot brought the lash down hard on Bran's back not once or twice but several times. He was upset that Bran who had followed him for so long yet could have such desire. It upsets him more that Bran actually spied on him when he was weak in his character.

Above all, Lancelot felt the Bran betrayed his trust.

"Yes, hit me." Bran cried out as the lashes bit into his flesh. "My pain for your sins."

That stopped Lancelot in his lashing. Did he hear right from the words of Bran? How can Bran be suffering for his sins. He had none as he could recalled. He dropped the lash and then walked out of the chamber. He did not pause until he was at the cellar where the wines are kept. He took down one small barrel and removed the cork on it. He took down the wine gushing into his throat as if he intend to drown in it.

Then he stopped the binge as he saw himself down on the flooring.

"Bran, I have no sins. Those you may had heard or seen, are imposed on me. I was not the initiator, but she was the one. She tricked me, and she used me." He cried with tears from his eyes. "I did not want it. She forced me."

Then he stopped in his emotions. He then looked around and then spoke out again.

"Maybe I am. I have desired her since then. I must not denied my feelings for her. She was my first and I liked her..... No, I love her." Lancelot spoke out aloud. Then he took up the barrel to take a long drink of it.

"My Lord, help me. I am ever confused." Lancelot on placing down the barrel, called on his faith to curb him of this confusion. "I know not what I am nor what I would be."

In his half drunken state, the image of Bernice appeared before him. She is still there on the bedding and inviting him. He walked over but then he sees Bran standing there at the other side of the bedding; naked and holding out his manhood to Lancelot.

"No, it can't be...." Lancelot screamed out. "It not you I want. Its her. Go away!"

But then the image of Bernice have changed. She is now the wench who he slept on that night at the Tavern. She is looking at him and smiling with her raised knees open to him. He looked up to where Bran was standing and now he sees Bernice with her fiancee. They are holding each other and kissing passionately. Then Bernice looked over to him and smiled.

"Do it as you would of me." Bernice told him. Lancelot looked down and now he sees Bran on the bedding now. He is lying there with his manhood upright.

"I am here, Sire. To serve you." Bran spoke to him.

"No....." Lancelot cried out loud and threw the barrel across the cellar. "That is not me. I been taken over by the Evil ones."

Lancelot got up and hit his fists against the cellar hard walls. He pound it till his hands are bloodied, and then he slide down to the ground again. He saw another small barrel within reach and he took it to drink, with his blood runneth down along with the wine into his throat.

Soon he was asleep dreaming of Bernice. It was to be sweet dreams, and there was no Bran inside. What he did not see then was the two figure standing there at the cellar entrance.

"Come, my son. Your wounds needs some poultice while his needs sleeping." Bran followed the monk named Pieter to the infirmary section.