Reclaiming England. (Nano Novel 2016)

Chapter Twenty-Six: The End

       

The sound of clashing swords around Arthur didn't faze him – he had been in many battles before. He wasn't afraid, just very sad. For around him his friends, his comrades, his brothers where falling. They were dying, and there was nothing to do.

    He didn't really know how he survived – how he was one of the few remaining standing when his own army was all but destroyed. He didn't know why he was left, facing Morderd, the only two left alive after the bloody battle. He only knew how tired he was. He just wanted the fighting, the death, the pain to end. He just wanted to settle down, to relax with his queen. To not worry if they would live until the next day.

  Morderd faced him, spinning his sword in his hands.

   "Well, it is down to us," he said, smirking.

   "It seems that way," Arthur said. Morderd smirked, lunging forward.

   The fenced back and forth amongst the dead bodies, up and over, around, their feet slipping on the bloody mud. Neither seemed to gain the upper hand, and a detached part of Arthur wondered if they were locked in time, two enemies, forever fighting until the end of time.

   Until Morderd slipped. Arthur didn't hesitated – he had trained not to. He lunged forward, stabbing the younger man through the belly. He let out a grunt of pain, collapsing over.

   Arthur stood there, looking into his son's eyes as he died. But even as he was losing his life, Morderd struck back. He gripped the blade of Arthur's sword in his hand, pulling himself closer and with his final breath, brought his blade down on Arthur's head.

   The king couldn't move. He was frozen, frozen in shock and surprise. A blinding pain flashed through his body, cantering on his head. He staggered back, the sword in Morderd's belly still in his hand.

   Morderd collapsed forward – dead at once. Arthur closed his eyes, the whole world swaying, and slipped forward. The pain. The pain.

   Maybe now it would be over. He collapsed to the ground, to tried and weak to stand.

   He wasn't dead – not yet. But it wasn't long until a brave and loyal knight – the only other survivor in the horrible battle – found him and tried to nurse him back to health. And it wasn't long until a small boat left the shore of the lake, a dying king lying in the centre, floating out to who knows where. The rule of Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther Pendragon, the Once and Future King had finally ended.

The room was small, really just an office. The wall opposite the door was covered in screens, each showing a different room in the mansion. Maria could see groups of fighting knights, and a quick glimpse of Callum running through one of the halls. He was alive.

   A large desk predominated the room, and Kingsly sat in front of it, his back to the door, looking at the screens. Masters stood beside him, facing Maria, a gun in her hand.

   The gun was already pointing at her.

  Maria already had her gun out, and she automatically aimed it at Masters' head.

   "Back off," she growled.

  "You won't have the guts to pull that trigger, girl," Masters said, raising an eyebrow.

   "Kristina, don't kill her yet, alright?" Kingsly said. Masters sighed, lowering her gun.

   "Yes sir," she said.

   Kingsly spun on his chair, facing Maria. At once she knew something was different about him – was there more madness lurking under his eyes?