Over the next week Bruce learned the slow and stupid way of the limitations of his weakling human body. As each day progressed he began to hate his body more and more. As his hatred grew as did he envy for mine.
Each night I would kick him out only to have him fumble to follow me. I hunted regardless. I ate regardless. Each night I would wave off to him only to make him seething with anger in how clumsy and useless the human form is. It was quite entertaining to watch his face turn from his pale white to tomato red.
“Lancelot what am I going to do?” Arthur asked over a glass of brandy. I took a long drink. The Front was dwindling. The Scots have taken more land than we had anticipated. To be frank they were kicking our arse.
“Arthur I know it is chaos, not what we had expected at all. But you are a man, not a child. Think for yourself. What does your heart tell you?” I asked him. He threw his glass.
“I DON’T KNOW‼!” He yelled then sagged. Who knew Britain’s golden boy had a temper to match the devil himself.
“Arthur you are acting as a child.” I stated he nodded and grabbed another glass and poured more brandy and took a very long drink.
“It is infuriating to not know what I ought to do, the decision affects the entire country, and they are expecting us to succeed.” He sighed and took another drink.
“You do what you know is right, the men’s morale is down first thing I suggest is to tell the men you still have faith and that you believe we will win.” I said. He doesn’t have to believe it he just has to say it. His words mean more to the men than he knows.
“But that’s not the truth.. I pride myself on that, f I don’t have my word what do I have?” He asked.
“We are at a war, it doesn’t matter what’s the truth, it’s what they men need to hear. If they think you think they will fail they will. We can not afford to lose so you will suck it up and tell them what they need to hear.” I said sternly. He took a large gulp of brandy.
“What do I have if not my word?” Arthur asked. He is too young for a mid life crisis and this the wrong place.
“You have your integrity, your balls, and your country still under your power. You have too much to lose to not do what it is that you much in order to win. This is a battle not a moral argument. All that matters is that we come home to home, and not to a prison or a slave pit.” I told him to watch him pale.
“I suppose you are right Lance, as always. In the morning I’ll give the men a speech, a speech depicting our victory of course.” He sighed.
“Tell the men we will be relentless, merciless. Teach the Scots what it takes to be man of Britain. Say the Scots will tremble in fear and run from the very name of Arthur and his Knights! Let them. For Arthur will give them a lesson or two on what it really takes to be a man. It takes a real man to look their foe in the eye at impossible odds and win for the sake of winning! For we are knights of the round table.” I said with a hint of pride.
“Did you just make that up or did you have that prepared for when Arthur loses it on the battle field?” He asked smiling. They were his words of battles fought and won. Battles that every child in our homeland grow old to hearing over and over.
“No.” I chuckled. “I may have had some help with those words, I just happen to know that those are the words a good friend of mine would use in a time like this, against all odds we always come out okay, all because of words like that.” I said smiling at my old friend. Through thick and thin we have been through it all.
