The Poison Rose: A King Arthur Tale Read online

  “The Anglo-Saxons!” yelled Lancelot. “They attack from the north!”

  “The Anglo-Saxons! Why now? Get your weapons!” Arthur yelled loudly for all the men in the camp to hear. “Prepare to defend yourself against the attack! Knights up front!” So Arthur ran into his tent, grabbed Excalibur and prepared to do battle, while everyone in the camp got up, grabbed their weapons and followed him.

  “I told you!” yelled Percival. “We have been focusing too much on the witch and have forgotten to keep the lands to the north!”

  Arthur looked up and watched as a massive army of men appeared behind the completely armored, helmeted goliath figure on horseback. Lancelot prepared his bow, but just before they were in range the army stopped. Then the leader moved forward. Lancelot prepared to fire. “Wait,” said Arthur, holding his hand out in front of Lancelot. “It is only one man…let’s see what he says and who it is…”

  “We have come to answer the ends of the law,” said the mysterious rider, as he rode within ten feet of Arthur and Lancelot.

  “You are no knight of the Round Table,” said Arthur.

  “But do we have to be,” replied the man, suddenly removing his helmet and revealing his face. Arthur and Lancelot both immediately recognized the man as Cerdic, the Anglo-Saxon that Arthur once fought against anciently. His hair was long and golden, but in no way feminine. His face looked clean and buff, and to Arthur it seemed that he had not aged a day since they last fought against each other.

  “Cerdic is my name, as you must know Arthur,” he said in a deep voice. “But this time I do not come to make battle with you. The witch has not just soiled your lands, but mine as well. A certain rumor was spreading abroad my kingdom that Arthur was leading an army against the witch. Then I began to gain more respect for you Arthur, for, thought I, if Arthur has enough courage to fight against this witch then I will not abandon him. So I brought five-hundred of my finest warriors.” Cerdic smiled as he looked down at Lancelot and Elaine. “It was once, long ago, that one of your men fell in love with one of my women. So we have come to see if both our kingdoms may unite just as Lancelot and Elaine have so united. This time we do not come to fight over trivial matters such as land or wealth, but over love!” Cerdic, leader of the Anglo-Saxons, leapt up off his horse and approached Arthur.

  “Then we are of one heart!” exclaimed Arthur, joyfully embracing his old enemy. “Memories of the past may here be erased and we may come to embrace each other in love and harmony. We are very grateful that you have come. As you can see we are most in need of help against this enemy.”

  And so Cerdic and his armies descended into Arthur’s camp to help assist them in the fight that against the witch that would soon occur upon Badon Fields.

  The sun was more than half-way down now and Arthur knew that the time for battle was soon at hand. The witch’s armies were moving swiftly and steadily towards them. From the top of the hill Arthur gathered his armies and watched as, at the other end of the broad and long field, a black mist of warriors began to roll forward along the plains. Arthur had no idea how many warriors the witch had gathered, but once they got closer Arthur could see the witch had more than just men, but all sorts of beasts—from the bear to the wolf—that were now somehow armored and marching forward along the battlefield.

  Once they finally stopped they were about three-hundred yards away. Arthur looked for the witch, but noticed that she, like a coward, was standing behind all her men at the top of the hill on the far side.

  “The witch hides!” exclaimed Percival. “Why hide? What has she to fear? Does she not possess all-powerful magic?”

  “She is weakened whenever she uses magic,” said Arthur. “And she has already spent much magic to provide armor and strength to her fighting men and beasts. She will only use magic if she really needs to. So we must provoke her and she will come to front of the battlefield.”

  All the men and women that Arthur had, numbering about a thousand-two hundred, stood there looking on in amazement at the witch’s army of about fifteen thousand. Her armies were swift and fierce, and were filled with those fiercely opposed to Arthur’s rule. In addition, many of her men were already trained for battle. But Arthur’s armies had one advantage.

  Arthur knew that the witch’s men were now able to be killed. The magic of the witch was waning and could not protect their lives as it could have in the past. Interestingly enough, the witch had now poured much of her magic, not into her army’s immortality (for she didn’t care about any of them surviving), but into making them more fierce and able to kill more men. And this was exactly what an evil witch would want—to kill as many men as possible, whether on the enemy’s side or her own. Either way it didn’t really matter.

  The witch, possessing a face that was now far from flawless, looked out at Arthur from the hill on the east side of Badon Fields. From there she stood silently glaring over at Arthur and his small army.

  Arthur motioned for Cerdic to move to the north side and lead his men on horse against the witch. Arthur then looked back at all of his men, some on horse and others on foot. They stood dusty, battered, worn, and, for many, wounded. He then gazed back across the field and up at the witch.

  Arthur, seeing that she could see him with her extraordinary sight, dismounted himself from Hengroen, drew his sword, and began walking towards her armies. Then he turned around and looked up at his knights and those men and women who had volunteered to fight for the cause. Looking at them he said, “Let us walk men. I will not ride as long as one person walks! We shall not put our fate into anything but our own two feet. And I don’t know about you, but as long as I live, no more blood shall be shed because of me, not even that of my horse. For now my friends, you fight not for me, but of your own free will—you fight for all you hold dear and if you wish to retreat, then do so now. If you wish to fight then raise your swords and walk now, for the heavens themselves have ordained that the living of heart shall defeat the dead of heart! Rise all free men and women, for today we fight not for land, or our lives, or our families, but for all that we hold true. We fight for a knowledge that pure love will endure. So raise your swords!”

  Arthur raised his sword and all the men and women there on those fields also raised their swords and cheered, “Hail King Arthur!” They then dismounted from their horses and pushed them aside, prepared to run to their doom if necessary.

  There was another reason why Arthur felt it would be best if his men dismounted from their horses. He knew that this would give his people courage in themselves, courage that they could defeat these evil armies. He knew if the people felt that Arthur could believe they could fight this battle without horses they would gain that confidence they so desperately needed. In addition, there is something about having to fight for it yourself that made everything seem much more worth it. Whatever the reason however, Arthur’s army of about seven-hundred felt much more independent and ready to fight.

  All of Arthur’s men and knights knew, for all intents and purposes, that they would soon go to their death. But death for themselves was no longer what mattered; what mattered now was that the future of their kingdom was secure. They fought so that those few who lived throughout Arthur’s kingdom could live joyfully and peacefully without the evil of the witch.

  All of Arthur’s knights looked back and forth to each other, feeling grateful for the time that they had to be together and for the bonds of fellowship and brotherhood that they had formed. There the knights sang a new song, a song they felt would ring clear in the minds of all those who stood to fight against this magical evil. Aloud the eleven knights began singing. They sang in tune and in one accord, making all the people there believe they had rehearsed every word:

  “The sun now begins to set,

  Both in the sky and the heart,

  But we will not fail, for we are Knights,

  We are Knights of Arthur’s great Round Table!

  Fires may burn our bodies,

  Smoke may fill ou
r lungs,

  Swords may pierce our flesh,

  Evil may stab our hearts.

  We may lose our families,

  We may lose our friends,

  We may lose our hope,

  But we will never lose our love!

  The soul of a man can never die as long as he loves.

  Let live the soul of all free men and women,

  Men and women who still raise the banner of love,

  The banner held by Arthur our great hero!”

  Suddenly, after saying these words, the soldiers all around them, both men and women, began singing loudly and boldly:

  “To our death we go!

  To purge away any evil within ourselves,

  To find the light where only darkness exists—

  To our death we go!

  To our death we go!

  We see the last sun set, but at peace we are,

  For we will fight against the witch of all evil

  As long as we have strength to stand!

  To our death we go!

  To our death we go!

  For she has caused brother to fight against brother,

  Sisters against sister,

  Mother against son,

  Father against daughter.

  Oh the shame! To our death we go!

  And so we sing this song—

  A song of the heart,

  A song of the soul,

  A song of the free!

  To our death we go!

  Then, after the crowd had sung this, they all began, in unison singing:

  “For no evil can tear apart our hearts

  To the abyss the witch will go,

  For we have our King Arthur!

  So to death we go!

  To death we go!

  Smiling, the graves will receive our hearts—

  The free hearts of this world,

  The hopeful hearts,

  The loving hearts,

  The living hearts!”

  The singing ceased, but Arthur was very pleased and raised his sword to the heavens and chanted, “For the living hearts!”

  After Arthur raised his sword there were a few moments of silence. The witch could see Arthur, even from far away, and she was angered by the hopeful chanting of the few men that were left.

  In response to the singing of Arthur’s men, the witch moved forward down the center aisle of her armies, yelling with a loud, magical voice that filled the plains, “Look at these men! Arthur and his men do mock all of you! But you are great, for it is by my power that you move and have your being, and it is by my power that you will fight for me and bring true justice to the world. Death to these evil men!”

  All of her armies suddenly erupted in a loud, gorilla-like roar, banged their chests, and drew their swords and spears.

  “To these evil men!” rasped the witch again.

  Another roar filled the valley. These men, if they could even be called men, let their mouths hang low and, under their helmet and with their fingers, began to peel off some of their skin from off their face and body. Growling filled the entire valley. The creatures stomped hard onto the ground. Arthur’s men could feel the stomping of their feet.

  “Death to these evil men!” yelled the witch once again. “And more importantly death to Arthur!”

  The witch then moved back through the field to her former position on the hilltop.

  Her men and creatures then yelled, “Hail the witch! Hail the witch!”

  “Well now you have really made her mad,” said Lancelot, jokingly to Arthur.

  Arthur smiled. “Just a part of the plan…”

  The battlefield was arrayed simply—Arthur stood leading the group who would march by foot into the fields of battle. His horse Hengroen was kept hidden behind a tree in the nearby forest. Should the witch move forward to the front lines he would ride away from the battle to find Alice; however, this time was not now.

  Behind Arthur in line were all his knights but Lancelot, who moved back to lead the archers to fire at the incoming armies from a distance. Cerdic and his horseman had now assembled themselves to the north and prepared to ride.

  There were a few silent moments again, a moment where both armies prepared to make their charge. But it was in this moment that Arthur finally was beginning to see the effects of the broken covenant made by the witch. The witch was now in terrible pain. He could sense this. However, apart from that her beauty was beginning to dissipate.

  Her face looked like it was dying. It was not nearly as smooth or beautiful, but pale and cracked. In addition, her hair was not nearly as smooth, her eyes not nearly as shimmering, her body not nearly as composed, and her form not as flawless. Now, it seemed, she was beginning to reveal her true self. In these moments he almost felt sorry for her.

  There was yet another interesting thing that Arthur noticed was happening. The protective, magical bubble around Poison Rose Mountain, like an egg, was beginning to crack and peel away. Behind the cracks and blotches Arthur could see not a beautiful, warm garden, but a cold, frosty one. Arthur knew that the witch’s garden was being infiltrated by the cold wind and snow at the top of the mountain (indeed her garden was dying, transforming into the snowy wasteland that it would be without her magic).

  But perhaps this was all meant to be. Her magic was fading, now almost nearly faded. The rose in her palace had only a few petals left and the witch knew that there were only two potential outcomes she would cherish: one, and the more preferred outcome, was that Alice would choose to devote her entire heart to her, thus making the rose bind itself to Alice which would bring it back to life again, continuing the line of witches. Then she knew, even if she died and Arthur somehow lived, he would ultimately perish by the line of witches that would continue. The second outcome would be a backup. Should Alice not devote her heart to the witch and should the line of witches be temporarily broken, the witch would make sure to kill Arthur. This would be satisfaction enough, even in death.

  So the witch could waste no time. She yelled, “Attack!” and her forces moved quickly across the plain. The armored wolves, bears, and other animals at her command all leapt across the field with amazingly fast speed, again no doubt cause by the witch’s magic. Behind the animals were the leaders of each battalion of soldiers—the witch’s hooded servants. Then finally there were all of her other followers and servants.

  Arthur saw the army moving across the fields and raised his sword towards the heavens. In this instance he was reminded of the statue Merlin carved of him in this exact pose, with his sword pointed up towards the heavens. “Perhaps,” he thought, “this battle will be the death of me.”

  Arthur then turned towards his men as well as Cerdic and his riders, yelling, as if with the magical power of the witch to speak across the battlefield, “Now men, you now fight for all you hold dear, for the husbands, wives, and children you have lost. But above all you fight for love! Now attack!”

  Arthur then ran forward towards the witch’s army, with his bright sword, Excalibur, drawn and pointed at the enemy. Arthur’s army and Cerdic’s riders then followed. A few moments passed as both armies prepared for a massive collision.

  The two massive armies collided as two massive waves upon the sea. Arthur sent his sword quickly through a bear’s neck, knocking it down to the ground. He found within himself now a greater strength than he had ever imagined. He swung his sword swifter and more powerfully than he had ever done before, making many of the enemies fear him in battle.

  Once the enemy had penetrated deep enough into Arthur’s army, Lancelot ordered a round of arrows be fired, killing many of the witch’s men. Then, after several rounds of arrows, the witch’s men were too close and he ordered his men to draw swords.

  Cerdic and his riders were making the most progress as they rode quickly and powerfully through the witch’s forces. Cerdic, with his mighty double-edged battle axe, found it better to fight on both feet and so, once in the midst of enemy warriors, he leapt up off his steed
and swung his ax around full circle, killing many of her men on impact.

  After several minutes had past, Cerdic was far enough into the battlefield to see the witch afar off on the distant hill. So, without thinking twice, he approached the witch with his battle-axe nobly in hand, pounding and hurling men out of the way like a rhino. He lost many men to this witch and was sure to end this woman’s life. But the witch didn’t look upset or worried at all. Instead, she stood erect with an insidious smile on her face.

  Arthur saw Cerdic running towards her and did not feel it wise to run towards the witch. He warned Cerdic to stop, but he did not listen. Cerdic took one massive swing with his ax at the witch, who moved out the way steadily and swiftly. The witch then suddenly drew her wand and fired a powerful blast of magic that killed the great Cerdic instantly, dropping him to the ground. The witch smiled as she looked down at the man she had killed with one beam of her magic.

  It seemed as if the other Anglo-Saxons saw this, which incited within them even greater anger, but also fear. They fought courageously against the witch’s men, but would not go near the witch.

  “Arthur,” yelled Lancelot. “We must turn back! There are far too many of them. Turn back towards Camelot and take refuge behind her walls.”

  Arthur looked around and noticed that his armies were dwindling in number fast. “No, we cannot turn back!” yelled Arthur, stabbing another enemy in the chest.

  Lancelot approached, struggling for breath. “We are being overwhelmed! There are too many of them! We shall not long be victorious! Arthur, we must retreat!”

  “No,” replied Arthur. “We cannot retreat.”

  “Sometimes we cannot win a battle.”

  “Not this time!”

  Then, suddenly and unexpectedly for all the fighters, the battlefield seemed to stop as they all gazed up at an angelic figure that appeared on the top of the hill to the west. His white beard hung low and his white clothing seemed to emit a light over the entire battlefield. He raised his staff high for everyone to see and, like a great Moses, his presence alone seemed to stir all of Arthur’s warriors to battle, giving them a little extra hope and faith.