The Poison Rose: A King Arthur Tale Page 21

  While it was technically the same Arthur, there was something different about the man that rode up the streets. This Arthur rode with a bright countenance and with such strength and stamina that, even if you didn’t know who he was, you would have thought him a king. Whether or not this was Merlin’s so called “super-state” or not remained unknown to him, but nevertheless it was powerful. It was so powerful that, as he rode up the streets of Camelot towards the castle, many of the citizens who saw him in the street cheered, “King Arthur has returned! The king has returned!” Thus more and more people came scrambling from all around to see the gallant king ride on his white horse. The kingdom rejoiced in seeing Arthur return, the rightful king.

  “We hear Arthur!” shouted the children. “Arthur has returned!”

  Brightness and hope seemed to return to the city, especially for the women and children, who took up what weapons they had and defended Arthur as he rode from the evil witch’s servants. Indeed, the more he rode the more it seemed his power was returning and the power of the witch was weakening.

  Meanwhile, the witch stood still, staring down from the top tower of the castle at the horrific civil war occurring beneath her. Although she hated seeing Arthur ride up towards the castle, she enjoyed seeing the bloodshed.

  Suddenly she heard Mordred’s steps from behind her. “My lady, Arthur is here. And the people, they are rallying behind his banner and moving up the castle as we speak. What should we do?”

  “I shouldn’t do anything!” snapped the witch as she turned back to look at Mordred, her face now not as bright or beautiful as he remembered, but, like a snake, much more vicious.

  “But my lady, they are coming up as we speak! They will be at the castle door in a matter of minutes. My lady, use your magic! Send them to the abyss!”

  The witch was silent. Her lips suddenly tightened and her eyes narrowed. “Mordred, you misunderstand the use of my magic. I never use magic if men can do my work for me. I would waste magic if I used it to kill Arthur while you still live to kill him. So I command you to go down there and kill him!”

  “Kill him? But there are tons of people there by him and I am just one man. Plus there is no better swordsman in the kingdom than Arthur.”

  “If you are truly devoted to me Mordred you would go down there and fight for me. Now, this is the last time I will say it…go down there and fight Arthur!”

  Mordred looked confused. For so long he had been a coward, using his deception and wit to bring him what he wanted. Indeed throughout his life this had seemed to serve him well. But now, going to fight Arthur seemed quite against his nature. He moved backwards towards the tower room door, but found himself unable to take a step more.

  “Do you defy me!” yelled the witch.

  “No,” replied Mordred, now sensing the witch’s anger. “I only do not think it right…”

  The witch looked at Mordred, an insidious smile going over her face. “Then it appears you have exceeded your usefulness. Your heart is no longer needed. Prepare to die!” Mordred looked up at the witch in fear as she drew her wand, pointed it at him, and sent a powerful beam of a magic that blew him backwards to the ground dead. The witch laughed. “So ends the life of Mordred. His heart failed him.”

  Interestingly enough and to Mordred’s demise he had been immortal for so long that he forgot the one person that could kill him—the witch. She possessed power to end his life quickly and so went the life of Mordred, the traitor knight (ironically slain by the thing he most loved).

  Meanwhile Merlin had snuck around the palace looking for Alice when, at last, he found her in the council room. She stood still and silent in front of the Round Table, right where the witch told her to go.

  Merlin smiled when he saw her. “Alice, my dear, your father has returned. He is now in the city.”

  “Why should I care?” replied Alice. “His coming will not be for long, and he will not stand a chance against the witch’s power.”

  “We must leave!” pleaded Merlin. “We must leave this castle now. Please do not succumb to the witch’s teachings. Your father is a mortal man yes, a man that makes mistakes, but know Alice that your father loves you.”

  “My father loves me!” laughed Alice, turning to Merlin and moving around the Round Table. “This is the most preposterous statement ever. I know who he loved. He loved my mother! Yes, he always loved her far more than me! Then, yes, he loves his knights, the valiant knights of the Round Table. He even fell in love with an evil witch! Imagine that Merlin! What if your father loved an evil witch more than you? How would that make you feel?”

  “You speak crafty words,” replied Merlin. “But know that these words are not true. Arthur loved you just as much as he loved his wife. He loved you so much he tried to desperately keep you preserved from the corruptness that exists in the outside world. So please, chaos lingers outside…just come with me. We must leave this evil witch because if she does not have you she cannot win.” Merlin extended his hand, beckoning for Alice to take it, but she did not. Instead, she backed away from him, left the room and moved up towards the top tower room. Merlin sighed. He knew that the witch’s grasp on her was more powerful than he supposed. “So be it.”

  Merlin suddenly heard a banging on the entrance door to the castle. He knew that Arthur had arrived. After several minutes of pounding the castle door burst open, with Arthur riding his horse gallantly through the great hall. While in the great hall he spotted Merlin descending the stairs. “Fighting has begun in the streets!” exclaimed Arthur. “Lancelot, Elaine, and others are making secure this city!”

  Merlin nodded. “That is good news. But Arthur, there is still malice at work in this castle. I tried to get Alice to come to you, but she resisted and fled up to the tower to be with the witch. You must go up to the tower, but I cannot come with you.”

  “Where are you going?” asked Arthur.

  “I must watch the door. This is up to you now. Go now! And do not delay!”

  Arthur nodded and raced up to the top tower with his sword drawn. Once he entered he found Alice on one side of the room and the witch on the other, standing and looking out over the city.

  There Arthur found himself, as Merlin had previously predicted, with Alice and the witch in the same room, but on opposite sides. Both seemed equally distant from him and neither one seemed to immediately acknowledge his presence.

  The witch looked at Alice and Alice back at the witch. Both were silent. Arthur suddenly realized why Merlin had warned him about this situation, should it come to pass. With Alice in the room he knew that the witch was too smart to openly kill Arthur and possibly lose the loyalty of her next heir. The witch knew that Alice still had some loving feelings for him. For much of the same reason Arthur could not and would not attempt to kill the witch there (nor did he think he could actually kill her anyway). So they had temporarily reached a situation where both had to endure each other’s presence.

  The witch turned around and Arthur was surprised by what he saw. Although the witch was still dressed in beautiful and sparkling white with a crown on her head and her body still eloquently framed, her face seemed much more insidious. Underneath her left eye was a black marker-thick scar. He figured that this must have been due to the “transformation” that Merlin spoke of.

  For several seconds her gaze would not meet his. She looked down towards the ground in anger. Eventually, however, her eyes moved up and met his. When they did she laughed. “Arthur, how excellent you have come. Now you may witness your ultimate failure. Come and behold Alice, your beautiful daughter that has now pledged herself to my teachings.”

  Arthur there looked upon Alice, now clothed in a tunic blacker than night, her hair neatly and freely hanging down. “Alice, come to me!” said Arthur. “Time has passed and forces have sought to tear us apart, but do not let us be torn apart.”

  “She does not obey you now,” said the witch. “She is now free, and obeys nobody, especially you.”

  “Eno
ugh of your sly words witch!” yelled Arthur as he pointed his sword at her. “You have now lost. Camelot will be retaken by all those loyal to me and your devilry will gradually fade away from this land!”

  “So I see! But this does not mean that I have lost, for in this effort I have won the finest jewel, your own daughter!”

  “You have won nothing!” exclaimed Arthur. “I have defied your evil magic. In so doing, you will die a lonely and miserable death far away from this city. And the more magic you use the more you will weaken!”

  “So you understand the laws of a witch! I am impressed.” She suddenly turned towards Alice. “But you have yet to understand the ways of a woman, for a woman is always one step ahead of a man! Alice, come now dear. We are to go to your future palace, freed forever from the tyranny of your father and all men like him!”

  Alice looked both ways, torn between the love she still felt towards her father and the amazing anger she felt towards the world. Then, and sadly to Arthur’s dismay, he watched as his beloved Alice moved towards the witch, clasping her hands in the witch’s. “No Alice! Don’t!” Arthur raced as fast as could towards Alice, but it was too late. The witch used her magic and both Alice and the witch were gone, magically transported back to the palace. In frustration Arthur threw down his sword and stared out over his city. He knew that, at least for now, Alice and the witch were out of his reach.

  Chapter 18: The Final Council

  After the witch and Alice disappeared from the city of Camelot so too did the witch’s servants, who fled the city almost as quickly as she did. Arthur figured the witch was now gathering all her men and loyal servants to her palace as a place of refuge.

  Every second that passed Arthur’s anger towards the witch seemed to increase. She had taken his daughter and only now did Arthur seem to realize how much he had failed. And it was this thought that pained him greatly. Indeed, the entire city of Camelot seemed to feel Arthur’s pain.

  It was nearly noon that day by the time that horrid battle within that great city finally ceased. Although none of Arthur’s knights besides Mordred actually died, there was not one that went without injury. And, unfortunately, many of Arthur’s soldiers in Camelot did not fare as well as his knights.

  The blood of both enemy and ally filled the streets, alleyways, and housetops of Camelot. And, as Arthur rode slowly through the city, he observed many cradled in tears over their dead friends and relatives.

  “Today has been a sad day,” said Lancelot, clutching his left arm which apparently was cut pretty bad.

  Arthur nodded. “Yes, it has been difficult and the city has lost many, but there is much more good here than evil. Now is but a moment of sadness. After the sadness and pain has passed people will know that this day we have won a great victory. It will not be the last victory we will have against this witch, but it certainly is the first. Lancelot, I am sorry that I must ask more of you, but direct all the knights to find all the wounded and bring them up to the castle. Then take all the provisions that I have in the castle and provide for them.”

  Lancelot nodded. “Of course, but what of Gawain?”

  “What of him?”

  “He has just come from the castle and seen his brother’s body,” said Lancelot. “Although Gawain is still wounded he has taken his brother outside of the city to be buried.”

  Arthur nodded. “Very well, I will go down to him. But you must go. Gather all the sick and wounded and provide healing. We must try to bring hope, light, and joy back to this city!”

  Then Arthur rode back down the streets of Camelot outside of the city where a great many people had already found spots in the field to bury their friends and family. There, outside of the city, Arthur spotted his beloved knight Gawain, who stood overlooking the grave he had made for his brother Mordred. Gawain stood alone silently looking down at the grave with tears filling his eyes.

  “Why did he have to die?” asked Gawain. “He was more than a brother to me, Arthur! There was nobody in the kingdom that I trusted more, but he betrayed us all.”

  “We must assume that he was not evil in of himself,” replied Arthur. “He was merely another one of the witch’s victims. He fell for her just like any man would. He was deceived by her beauty. He loved greatly and this wasn’t the sin. The sin was in whom he chose to love. Know that you will see him again brother…” Arthur placed his arms around his shoulders, comforting the big-hearted Gawain. “In times like these it is best to move forward—to look to the future. But it may be necessary to take a moment to look into the past, only so that you may finally put it aside.” So Arthur remained with young Gawain for nearly an hour that day looking over the grave of their old friend Mordred.

  Once Gawain had been comforted Arthur moved back up into the castle. Arthur entered the castle and noticed far too many people in the great hall than it was meant to hold. People lingered all around the great hall. Almost all were bleeding and their cries of pain made Arthur feel extremely sad.

  “We are out of food and other supplies,” said Lancelot as he approached. “There are simply too many that need help.”

  Arthur nodded and handed Lancelot his bag from off Hengroen. “Take what supplies I have, no matter how little it may be.” Lancelot nodded, took the bag, and walked back over to a child he was helping.

  Then Arthur watched as Elaine approached. “Arthur, you have fought valiantly and saved many people’s lives.”

  “No, it is you Elaine that have fought valiantly,” said Arthur. “Without your help it would have not been a victory.”

  “A victory, but where is Alice?” asked Elaine. “I have not seen her.”

  Arthur sighed. “She is beyond our reach now.”

  Arthur then bid Elaine farewell and went up to the council room alone to think and ponder on the situation. While there he knelt down on the ground next to the Round Table and stared up through the oculus saying, “What should I do? My people now suffer more than ever, but now my daughter is lost to me!”

  Suddenly Arthur heard a soft voice emerge from the doorway that brought him up to his feet. It was Merlin. “You know what you must do, don’t you?” asked Merlin.

  “No I don’t,” replied Arthur. “Again I am in a dilemma. The witch has taken Alice away back to her palace to train her to become the next witch. For all I know she may already be lost to me. To go back alone to her palace would be suicide, and to go back with what few men we have left would be certain death to my men.”

  “So you mean not to go back to her?”

  “It is exactly like you said Merlin,” replied Arthur. “Witches are beings created by men to destroy men. And no matter how hard I try I fear that I will not be able to conquer this terrible evil. Plus I caused this evil Merlin. It is my fault that Alice is lost to me.” Arthur began to shed a few tears. He placed his hands firmly on the Round Table as he stared down at it. “It is my fault that the witch is still alive and has my daughter. It is my fault that so many good people in Camelot died and that people in my very own castle do mourn and suffer. If I hadn’t had gone over to the witch’s palace…”

  “Then she would not be near death and more of the kingdom would be lost!” interrupted Merlin. “You have weakened her now Arthur and deep down she is afraid of you. You have made her realize that men are stronger than she supposed and will not go down so easily. And as for all the people who died and do yet suffer; well, they did so because they were willing to die for what you represent to them—freedom, prosperity, and happiness. Look, these people need you. You will never be able to save them unless you realize who you really are. Push aside your feelings for this woman. Believe in your strength and power Arthur, but do not be ignorant, for if you are proud and ignorant you may fall. You must look to these people and see love as it really is. Then you will realize that love for one is paradoxically just as powerful as love for the whole. If you go to your daughter you will be able to prove your love to her and that will mean much more than words.”

  “No
w is not the time Merlin,” replied Arthur. “The city is still recovering and the witch will not be likely to attack us here in Camelot.”

  “Let me give you a piece of advice Arthur,” said Merlin, strolling around the table now, lifting up his staff on occasion. “You may be a great king, perhaps the best king that has ever lived, but let me tell you something—you cannot do this on your own. You cannot defeat this witch on your own, nor were you meant to. Take it from a man who knows from experience. You cannot fight the forces of evil alone—no matter how good or powerful you may be.”

  “What would you have me do then?”

  “Trust people,” said Merlin. “It is that simple. Trust your people and they will not let you down. Your people have just as much reason to fight against this evil as you do. They have lost just as much as you have to this witch.”

  Arthur felt overwhelmed. “What if I can’t do it Merlin? What if I can’t face this evil witch again?”

  “Then you will have disappointed all the people in this kingdom who look up to you and depend on you. You are the great King Arthur and not some common man! You have been through the hell-fires of the witch’s evil and returned to tell the tale. You should know, above all men, how important you are.” Merlin waited for a few moments, but he could tell Arthur was still disturbed. “Listen Arthur…there is a reason you are king. You were chosen for this assignment by magic just as deep, if not more deep, than the witch’s. I wish I could tell you more, but now is not the time. Now is the time to lead these people to the witch.”

  Arthur shook his head. “I have risked enough of my men already. I will not risk their lives for my selfish desires.”