The Poison Rose: A King Arthur Tale Read online

  “She is gone,” said Mordred, looking down with a look of solemnity. “We must inform all those within the kingdom of her loss.”

  Arthur felt weak. He wished he could do something, anything to save her. In this moment he felt terribly powerless, more powerless than he had ever before felt as a king—and it terrified and plagued his mind. He turned and grabbed ahold of Alice, holding her tightly in his arms as she held his. There he felt his wife’s cold, dry hand in his. As a last gesture, a gesture that signified to his mind that she really was gone, he pulled from off her finger her blue diamond ring and put it into his pocket. He knew that this ring would always remind him of her.

  “My Lord,” said Mordred softly. “I await your command.”

  “Prepare the funeral,” replied Arthur, mustering up enough strength to say those words. Mordred nodded and took a few steps towards the door before Arthur spoke again. “Invite the people to come, but don’t force them to. I don’t want to force them to suffer the same pain that I have suffered.”

  Mordred nodded. “Of course your majesty. Your will shall be done.” Mordred then turned and walked down the stairs. He instructed his servants to move throughout Arthur’s kingdom, informing each province that Queen Guinevere was dead.

  ******

  That evening Arthur didn’t waste any time with making supper himself. Far too many thoughts and feelings now rushed through Arthur’s mind. Instead, he commanded some of his loyal subjects to make some dinner. But he made sure that Alice was there at the dinner-table.

  “Come Alice, let us eat,” said Arthur. “The funeral will be tomorrow and you must gather your strength.”

  Neither Arthur nor Alice seemed in the mood to eat right now. Both of their minds were on the past, on thoughts of Guinevere and when she was with them in her kingdom. It seemed like not too long ago for the both of them that she was there at the dinner-table eating with them. Guinevere seemed like the woman who bound together their family, making the dinner-table experience, and any family experience for that matter, more comfortable. But now, with Guinevere gone both Arthur and Alice realized that they had little to actually say to each other.

  In addition, tension between Arthur and Alice were brooding because of the past. Arthur, above any father, was protective of Alice—both as his only child and as the future Queen of Camelot. As such this protectiveness often lent itself to excessive behaviors, such as forcing Alice to remain in Camelot for long periods of time while he was off fighting a battle.

  Arthur and Alice both moved forward towards the expansive wooden dinner-table in the great hall. Arthur sat down at one end while Alice sat down at the other. Several plates, cups, and utensils were brought to their table as they prepared to eat.

  “Let us say a blessing dear!” exclaimed Arthur. “I will not have Guinevere’s death separate us from our God.”

  So there, in the darkness and candlelight of his castle, Arthur bowed and said a short prayer. Once the prayer was offered Arthur began eating.

  “Alice you must eat,” said Arthur. “You must keep up your strength, especially in this difficult time.”

  “It is just, I can’t stop thinking about mom,” said Alice. “The castle seems dark and empty without her, as if the castle itself has become nothing but a ghost of its former self.”

  Arthur nodded. “Indeed the balance has now been altered in this kingdom. I sense that this will not be the end either. But Alice, we must be optimistic if we are to endure the pain. We must keep our faith.”

  There was a long moment of silence as the two ate their dinner. The only redemptive quality of the rest of their meal, besides the meal itself, was the opportunity they each had to glance at each other across the table. Neither desired nor were in the mood to waste time with frugal discourse. Eventually, however, the silence was interrupted by Alice’s words: “I don’t know what mom wanted to say to me before she died. She wanted to say something important. I could tell. But now I suppose I will never know.”

  Arthur finished chewing a bit of his food and then spoke: “Do not doubt Alice. We will see her again and then we will know. Know that she wanted to say many more things to us, had she been given the strength. But for now let us not think about that. As we speak people around the kingdom are mourning her loss and I would not desire you, my daughter, to think about her any more. The more you think of her the more your heart is racked with great pain.”

  Although Alice knew her father meant well with this statement she didn’t like him telling her what to do or how to think. “What else am I supposed to think about?” asked Alice. “You are not the only one who loved mom!” Alice suddenly slammed her utensils on the dinner table and stormed off up towards her room, leaving her plate still half-full. Arthur was speechless and didn’t dare follow until she had a few moments to cool down.

  A few minutes after Alice left, Mordred entered the dining room, holding onto a role of parchment. “Sir I have notified and sent scouts out to every province that the funeral for the queen will be held here in this castle tomorrow evening. As is customary there will also be a dance, will there not?”

  Arthur didn’t reply for a few moments, being quite preoccupied with thoughts of Alice. “Yes, that would be wonderful. Well done Mordred.”

  Mordred nodded, bowed and then prepared to walk away but noticed that Arthur was deep in thought. “Is there something else?”

  “It is nothing,” replied Arthur, at first reluctant to speak. “Oh, what am I saying…it’s Alice. For as long as I have lived in this castle with her I have never really been able to help her, been able to talk to her. I have wanted to, but with my duty as a king I have never been able to. When Guinevere was here she was always able to bind us together, if you will. She was able to help care for Alice while I was gone on one of my battles. But now, now that she is gone, I just don’t know what to do.”

  Mordred looked contemplative. He pulled out a chair and sat down next to Arthur. “These things are difficult, indeed, and I have never had a daughter of my own.”

  “I trust your judgment Mordred.”

  “And for that I thank you. But sometimes two people are just too different to learn and understand. For a long period of time I, as you know, was married, but couldn’t find it in myself to love my wife because we were far too different. In the end we realized that.”

  “What happened?”

  “She died. It was a sad separation, but a separation that needed to happen. Arthur, sometimes separation is a good thing. Why don’t you just give her some time to herself while I talk to her? I have known your daughter for a long time and can help comfort her.”

  “Thank you Mordred, but this is something that I must do myself. I cannot leave this problem unresolved.” Arthur reached over and placed his hands on Mordred’s shoulders. “You are a loyal and wise man. But now I must depart. Good evening my friend.”

  Mordred smiled. “Good evening,” replied Mordred, as they both got up and separated.

  Arthur then walked up the stairs towards Alice’s private bedroom where he knocked on Alice’s door softly. “Can I come in?” asked Arthur. He waited several moments for a reply but none came, so he decided it would be best just to open the door. He entered and found Alice sitting on her bed, her arms wrapped around her legs as she stared out of her window at the setting sun. “Alice, I am sorry if I said something…” Alice did not reply, nor did she turn her head. Arthur moved towards her. “I know,” he said as he put his hand on her shoulder. “I miss her too.”

  She made a soft whimper. Arthur recognized the whimper. It was the sound his wife made whenever she was in tears. “I just feel so alone. I thought you were going to do something with me today. Something to comfort me, something to show me that you at least care.”

  “Do something today,” said Arthur. “I never said that did I? I mean, I wish I could, but today was not a good day. Your mother just passed away and I had funeral arrangements to make. Another time though.”

  Alice t
urned back, looked up at Arthur and yelled, “You loved mom more than me! Just admit it!” Arthur looked surprised as he watched tears come down his daughter’s face. “You said that once you no longer needed to care for mom you would spend more time with me, but you don’t care about me. Now that mom is gone who else is there in this castle. I cannot stay here. I don’t belong here. I have no friends here, and this to me is just a cold, dark prison. You say you are trying to protect me by keeping me in this castle in Camelot, but you are really just trying to keep me to yourself.”

  “Alice!” retorted Arthur defiantly. “You must show your father more respect.”

  “You don’t respect me! Mom respected me!”

  “Alice, stop. You know that is not true.”

  “No you stop!” yelled Alice. “Stop being king, or let me go! Let me go see the world and I will leave you to your precious kingdom! There are boys in this kingdom, boys that I want to meet. Plus I want to see the trees, I want to escape and see the beauty of the kingdom, a beauty that I can never see here in this prison.”

  “We all made a sacrifice in having our mantles, be that king or princess,” said Arthur, this time less defiantly or harshly and more explanatory. “I have many responsibilities as king and these responsibilities at times may take me away from you. I have always believed that helping the whole was better than the individual. But know I love and value you more than anything. It is just I have an obligation as king…”

  “Obligation to your kingdom, but what about your family?” asked Alice.

  Arthur was getting impatient. “Alice…you know I…” Then his voice trailed off. He didn’t want to argue a minute more and felt that this discussing was futile. He then turned around and began to walk away. “Good night dear,” said Arthur. “I expect you to come down for the funeral tomorrow.” Alice didn’t reply, nor did he expect her to. He left the room that evening, but not without feelings of incompletion. After closing the door he stopped. He wanted to go back and open it again and apologize for his behavior. But some part of him couldn’t—it would make him feel like less of an authority. So he continued onward, back down the stairs into the darkness.

  Chapter 2: The Funeral Ceremony

  The death of Guinevere seemed like the passing of an old age even though it wasn’t. People seemed to breathe a little heavier now, hold to their loved ones with a little more strength, and fear death with a little more veracity.

  The next day people from all walks of life and from all around the kingdom traveled to Camelot. It was, at most, a four or five-hour trip by foot from the most distant province. So, from the morning on through the afternoon, people gradually trailed in through the gate of Camelot.

  In Arthur’s tower, the highest tower in all of Camelot, there stood a magical, mystical object that gave a person the ability to see anything from any distance. Arthur didn’t know where this object came from, but he figured that it was the possession of some king before him, who used it to watch over his kingdom and protect it from invaders. He found the object hidden in a small room of the basement of the castle, but after realizing what it did he moved it in front of the large open window of his tower. The mystical object stood about as high as Arthur. The clear, round lens was an inch thick and about two feet wide. Surrounding the lens was some dusty black metal that ran down to the floor and spread out near the bottom to form four legs which kept the object upright. Next to the lens was a small nob that he found, when turned, allowed him to zoom in or out. After using it for an extended period of time he still couldn’t find a limit to how far it could see, and so he logically supposed that its vision was without limits as long as there were no objects obstructing its path.

  Arthur called the object “the King’s Seer Stone” although it wasn’t a stone at all. But whatever its original name, it certainly was an interesting trinket. He rarely found time to use it and did not like spying on those in his kingdom, but now he felt he must use it. So he stood and peered through its lens. He zoomed in on the various travelers that were coming into Camelot.

  Through the magic object Arthur could see many people, more than he ever supposed would come. There were at least a thousand, if not more. Most carried a pack on their shoulders, but some drug carts full of supplies for their company. Many looked tired and dirty. But all this was not what surprised him. What surprised him were how few men there were on this trek. There had to be at least triple the amount of women than men, not including all the children.

  His thoughts then drifted to the knights he sent to investigate the workings of this mysterious woman on the far reaches of his kingdom—on the tallest mountain in his kingdom, the mountain far to the east. He didn’t think about it much, but he hoped that his knights were okay and were now on their way back towards the city.

  Arthur leaned down and looked through the eyeglass, this time pointing it up towards the high peak in the distance. He twisted the knob on the side of the eyeglass and zoomed in to get a good view of the mountain. From his tower he could vaguely see the woman’s palace on the distant mountain peak. But, interestingly enough, no matter how much he turned the knob the view of the palace still seemed terribly blurry. Something around the palace was blurring his view. He considered this odd, but didn’t think too much of it as a few moments later he rushed downstairs to prepare for the funeral ceremony.

  As Arthur walked downstairs towards the great hall he noticed Mordred. Mordred looked up, smiled, and motioned for him to come down. Arthur followed Mordred through the castle and both of them peeked through the downstairs door in the hallway. “Look how many have come!” said Mordred. “There are more here than I imagined.” Arthur took a few moments to scan the room, and although it was barely past noon the entire assembly was nearly filled.

  Chairs were lined up in two columns tightly throughout the great hall. In front of the chairs Arthur noticed the casket—a large domed rectangular casket he knew held his wife carefully in its grasp. Then, beyond the casket, were three elegantly designed royal chairs—one for his daughter Alice, one for his wife, and one for himself. But now having those three chairs seemed to only remind him of what he had lost.

  “Mordred, fit as many as you can in here and then shut the doors. The rest will have to remain outside.”

  Mordred nodded. “Yes sir.” Then he left out into the great hall to tend to his duties.

  Arthur hated sentencing people to stay outside, especially after such a long journey. However, he felt he had little choice. The rest would wait along the long, wide, cobblestone road that wound up like a spiral towards the castle.

  Three hours past and it would not be long before the sun set. Arthur was now dressed in his kingly apparel—a red vest bearing the symbol of the dragon, his chain-mail armor, his black pants, and long black boots. The last thing he needed to do was put on his wife’s old ring. He looked down at it, picked it up, and placed it on his finger. Now he was ready.

  Mordred began the ceremony with Arthur waiting behind the door in the back of the castle. Arthur would enter on his mark, once the entire crowd had assembled and were silent.

  Arthur stood behind the door and listened to Mordred’s words: “We are assembled together today in solemn reverence for a wonderful woman now past, our beloved Queen Guinevere. But here, in this castle, is our beloved king, who has served as king of this kingdom for over a decade. I present to you all King Arthur!”

  The entire room was silent as the king opened the small door near the throne and stepped into the great hall. There were so many people there that some were standing against the walls because they couldn’t get a place to sit. But all people were now standing, standing for King Arthur.

  Even the children were miraculously silent as Arthur stepped into the room and moved up the stairs towards the throne. While he was doing so he noticed Alice, who was seated down in her proper seat near the front. He nodded at her, but she didn’t return the signal. After Arthur had found a good place to stop and speak to the audience Mordred mot
ioned for the entire crowd to sit down. Then Mordred moved back to take his place in the chair next to the king’s.

  “Thank you all for coming,” said the king loudly as he looked over the massive audience. “My wife’s death was a tragedy that all of us will remember. She was still so young and beautiful and beloved of all in the kingdom. She was able to touch the lives of each and every one of you, which is why you have traveled so far. Each and every one of us loved her so much. But it is in times like these that we must be strong. I sense a dark change coming upon this kingdom, a change that is not just caused by the loss of my wife. And it is this change that we must all be weary of. In times like this we must remember Queen Guinevere and what she would have done. She was a great example of love and kindness, a charity that we should not take for granted.” The king continued to speak, talking for about an hour total, mostly about memories he had of her in the past. Following his words the casket was escorted outside of the walls of Camelot where she was buried. It was in these moments, these long moments of travel, that Arthur could not resist tears.

  He, with Mordred and Alice alongside him, moved ahead, leading the casket outside of the great hall and out into the streets of Camelot. The sun had almost completely set, but it was not dark enough for him to see into the faces of all those who he passed. Indeed, he did see a dark change in the kingdom. The faces of those he passed were not one of gladness, but of anger and tears. He didn’t expect them to be happy, but he could tell that their sadness went beyond the death of Queen. Their expression was an expression he wore at times of immense sorrow in his past.

  Arthur and his followers descended down through the massive city of Camelot, walking around in a spiral towards the gate at the bottom of the city. Once at the bottom, Arthur stopped a few feet in front of the gate.

  The gate to Camelot was no ordinary gate. Ten to twenty full-grown men were needed to heave the gate open. Its steel bars were thick and secure. Once it was open, Arthur and his followers moved outside of the city to a small cemetery outside the city walls, a place where the great kings and queens of the past were buried. There the casket was lowered into the ground, Arthur said a few words, and the funeral was dismissed.