The Call of Camelot

Chapter 10 - Star Struck

At this moment, meeting the King was the last thing I wanted to do.

My mind was a bundle of thoughts and emotions, all racing through my mind so fast that I couldn't think clearly, the only thing my mind kept circling back to were those last two words written on the parchment.

Find him.

How was I supposed to find someone I'd never met?

I had remembered how Merlin had told me that no one knew the identity of my Father, but if that were true, how could someone know he was in Camelot? And who was the person who'd left that note in my cloak?

Musings over the letter though disappeared from my mind as Mordred brought me to where I was to meet the King.

The palace training grounds were on the far side of the building from my room, on a large hill that overlooked the beautiful woodlands, stemming from the bottom of the hillside and off into the horizon like a dense sea of lush green trees.

The large grassy field was currently awash with soldiers and knights all engaging in different types of mock combat.

There were men throwing axes and firing arrows at wooden boards, others were practising swordsmanship and I noticed a small group repeatedly hitting a poor servant boy, who was holding up a shield to guard himself from the repeated thumps raining down on him from the soldiers weapons.

The King was currently embroiled in single combat with the auburn haired knight I'd recognised from the town, who Mordred had told me was the legendary knight Percival.

We waited as the two men duelled, the clashing of metal as their swords met whipping through the air, the sound making me flinch with every strike.

Although I was alarmed by the aggressiveness in which these two men fought, I noticed there was also a beauty to the violence, their movements were fluid and precise, every strike, every footstep, calculated and filled with purpose.

What I found most striking however, was the skill displayed by King Arthur, despite his slight frame and short stature, he dominated Percival, who was much taller and stockier than the King.

Arthur seemed to predict every move his Knight was about to make, his reflexes so quick and sharp that Percival was noticeably struggling to overcome his opponent.  But with that skill, there was a furocity and an aggression that I found almost unsettling,  and watching Arthur's face twist with concentrated rage, I couldn't help but feel intimidated by this legendary King.

I tried to shake off how disturbed I was beginning to feel watching Arthur fight, reminding myself that his skill as a warrior and as a leader, were the main reason why he would become the famous King of legend, and that I had no cause to feel so unnerved by his actions.

Predictably, it was Arthur who claimed victory in the duel, helping Percival from the floor after his defeat and affectionately patting him on the shoulder to congratulate him on such a well fought match.

The King then turned his attention to me, giving me a tight but polite smile and a nod of recognition before directing his gaze to Mordred, nodding his head to the side as a gesture to follow him.

I was starting to see that manners weren't one of Arthur's strong points.

Mordred and I followed the King to one of the colourful tents that had been erected against the palace walls, which just like their interior, were crumbling and peeling from lack of care and attention.

As I entered the tent I took a cautious step back, surprised to see that we weren't the only ones Arthur had invited in, my backwards step pushing me into Mordred, who placed both hands on my arms and gave me an encouraging smile.