The Kingdom of Camelot

Chapter 3

Notice: I'm sorry, but I'm having some trouble figuring out how to get Gawain's story going. I mean, I can just write it up, but I'm going to wait on that, I've decided. I'll, instead, do the last one I was planning to do. Sir Lancelot and the Dolorous Guard! (For the record, in most iterations, before the end of this story, he's known as the white knight. But you can't feel right, calling Shadow that, no matter how hard you try.)

It was late spring in the kingdom of Camelot. A young man of 18, raised, but not named, by the Lady of the Lake, sat among king Arthur's knights. Word came to the round table of a land of Dolorous, with a castle known as the Dolorous Guard. The land was ruled by a cruel and unfair man, the Copper Knight. None of his people could leave his land, and the only entrance was through the Dolorous Guard.

Offering his help, the nameless knight took up his sword, and rode for the Dolorous guard, arriving in the afternoon. He saw a young woman weeping over the body of a knight.

"My lady… What has happened?" She just shook her head, sobbing. He continued toward the gate, but then she shouted for him to stop.

"If you go any closer, you will have to fight ten knights…Only then will the gate open…but then, at the second gate, you'll have to fight another ten knights to get through…no one knight could accomplish such a thing…Please, so none have to grieve…don't go forward…" He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but I am a knight of the round table… I have my duty…"

"…If you won't listen, then at least know, the gates will not be opened after nightfall…" The young knight nodded, dismounting from his horse, and approaching the gate. A single knight met him, and drew his sword without a word. After he dispatched the first knight, a second rode out, and, like the first, met his end at the young man's sword. After a grueling battle, the young knight kneeled, panting, on the ground before the gate. Ten bodies lay strewn about him, and his strength had left him. The gate did not open. The sun was setting. He shouted in frustration, slamming his fists against the gate.

"Come now, You should know full well that wasting your strength will do you no good." The voice from behind him soothed him, and he knew at once who it was. Slowly, he straightened up, and turned to face her.

"Mother…" For some reason, he felt he couldn't look her in the eye.

"Come. I've a tent for you to rest in nearby." She lead him into the thick of the woods, which all at once gave way to a clearing, with a large tent standing in the middle. Without a word, the knight entered the tent, and sat on a cot. "I don't quite understand why you are having such trouble…" She put her hand comfortingly on his shoulder.

"It takes too long…I have to defeat a full twenty knights in one day's time, but I lack the skill to defeat them before I begin to tire…" Nimue giggled softly, and kissed his forehead.

"My son…You lack neither the skill, nor the strength…we both know of your great power." He stared at her, in shock.

"There's a village nearby, mother…I'd never dare risk it here…" She nodded, frowning.

"It is true that what charms and spells I have taught you seem so much more powerful when they are used by you, but if you would but use them, you would have no trouble at all… When I took you into my care, I held a small banquet in your honor…every fae who came to see you gave a blessing, and a charm…this is, perhaps, the source of your power…but…"a small smile appeared on her face. "perhaps I have something that can help…" she began looking about the tent, apparently trying to find something that, she believed, could help him control his powers. Finally, she produced a small ring, offering it to him, a tender, motherly smile on her face.

"This ring is made to protect its wearer from all manner of curses. However, few use it, as they can no longer gain the benefit having helpful magic. It can't erase what's been done to you, but it should help hold back some of your power, dulling the charms that protect, strengthen, and empower you." The knight slid the ring onto his finger, and then clutched his chest. He had already exhausted himself fighting the knights, and now the strength he was so used to was being suppressed. He collapsed to the ground from exhaustion, his foster mother kneeling beside him.

"Sleep well, my Galahad…soon, you will learn your name…" she wrapped him in blankets, and tenderly kissed his forehead, watching over her son as he slept for a full day and night. When he arose, he felt renewed vigor, and left for the gate of the dolorous guard.

The first of twenty knights approached him, drawing his sword, and readying himself, though he could not be ready for what came next. The knight raised his hand, and from it, a bolt of red light shot out, wounding the knight's shoulder. He still fought, though he was forced to surrender soon after the battle had begun. The next knight charged from behind, but was shocked to find his mark vanish, only to reappear above him, a sword piercing clear through his body. On and on it went, as the ten knights of the first gate fell to the nameless knight. When the gate opened the ten knights of the second gate were so afraid that they charged him all at once on horseback. Even with all of his skill, he was still struggling to even keep himself from harm, and sustained several injuries. Just when the knights thought they had beaten their opponent, his body began to glow with a fiery red light. All at once, it erupted from him, knocking the further knights unconscious, while nothing remained of those nearer to him. The earth was burned black where he stood. None of the knights remained to challenge him.

The second gate opened, and he was ready to meet the master of this place, the copper knight. When he asked the gatekeeper for the copper knight's whereabouts, he was surprised to find that he had fled fro his castle after seeing twenty knights fall. This place belonged to the knight who had conquered it. All the townspeople and soldiers would grant him their allegiance.

Without a sound, his foster other approached, taking his hand and leading him to a graveyard. She lead him to a large slab of steel. "It is said that only the one to conquer the trials of the Dolorous guard could lift this slab, and that his name will be found written underneath." She smiled, as he eagerly rushed to the slab, grabbing it tightly, and, caught off guard, he toppled over backwards as the slab rose from the ground effortlessly. As he got to his feet, his mother's eyes filled with tears of sorrow, though he never knew it. He read the inscription aloud.

"Sir Lancelot, son of King Ban of Benwick and Queen Elaine…my name…and that of my parents!" He was filled with pride, and for his sake, his mother hid her tears. She knew the truth, that his parents had not given him that name. They had called him Galahad. He was meant to be the knight who would retrieve the holy grail, and who was prophesied to be the greatest of all knights. For one reason or another, this could never come true. It was the wrong name. Still, she hugged her son, and smiled, kissing his cheek.

"My dear son…Lancelot…" It was the wrong name, but it was still her son's name, and she still loved him. And so, with a ring to protect him, a castle under his rule, and a name to call himself, Sir Lancelot returned to the court of his master, King Arthur.