Merthur - Love in the Time of War

Chapter 21 - An Ill Omen

Arthur's POV

I smile to myself as I watch the scene below. It seems Gwen was able to convince Leon to help. He's conversing with the guards below. His hands wave around in an exaggerated fashion as the faces of the guards grow more and more worried. I wonder what sort of lie he has spun together?

A few moments later the knights turn and leave their posts in a hurry, kicking up the dust on the stone in their haste. Leon glances up at me and smiles, giving me a reassuring wave. I open the latch that secures the window shut and poke my head out. I flash back a grateful grin. He pulls out the rope he has hidden under his chainmail and proceeds to toss it up to my window. I grab the rope and tie it taut to one of my bed posts. Leon glances over his shoulders before signalling the all clear. I hold on to the rope before swinging myself out of the window and beginning the climb down.

I let out a breath of relief once I reach the bottom. The first thing I notice is the cold. Each breath comes out as misty snakes that coil up into the air before disappearing in the grey sky. I miss the crackling fire in my chambers hearth already. I shiver at the cold Leon smiles and pats me on the back. "I wish you luck my lord," he says with a smile, handing me a green cloak.

"Thank you Leon, now I need you to get that rope down before the guards come back," I order.

"Of cour-"

"I've got it," a voice calls from above.

I look up to see Gwen smiling down at us, one end of the rope in her hands. "When will you be back?"

"Sun down. Prepare for me then."

"Then you best get going."

I smile at her, grateful for such loyal friends before pulling the cloak over my shoulders, glad for its added warmth, and head towards the lower town.

------

I only barely make it to the forests edge before a man bearing a black cloak appears from the tree line. His hair is blond in colour and curls at the top of his head. His eyes are blue while a small scruff grows around his chin. There is nothing odd with his attire, they're simply that of a traveler.

I don't think much of the man. Most likely a merchant or traveler heading towards Camelot. Always plenty of them coming and going. I move to brush past him put he raises a hand and gently pushes me back. I raise and eyebrow at him, instantly alert. My hand twitches towards the hilt of my sword.

"I come baring an important message to you, Prince Arthur Pendragon," the man says, his voice dangerously low.

I pull my sword from my belt in one swift motion. I have the blade pointed at his throat in a heartbeat but the man doesn't even flinch. "Who are you?" I ask, shoving the point further into the mans throat.

"My name is Osgar, and I am sent from the sacred Disir to pass judgement on you, Arthur Pendragon." His voice is steady, steadier then any mans should be when they have a sword pointed at their throat.

"What right have you to pass judgment?"

"No man is above the Disir, however royal. It is my duty to pass their judgment onto you."

The man kneels and pulls a large coin from his cloak. Engravings run along the circumference of the object. There was no doubt the coin was magic. The runes that seemed to be etched into the coin proved it. "Your hand," Osgar says, lifting the coin towards me.

I stare at him reluctantly for a moment. My instinct tells me to kill the man for sorcery but the tone of the mans voice frightens me. The way he speaks of judgment, the look in his eyes, one that was filled to the brim with pity, somehow forces me to head the mans warnings. To do as he says. I lift my hand up towards him and he places the coin into my palm.