This time, dear reader, we do not leave our lovers alone, and you frustrated, for sensuous love is as natural and necessary to human life as breathing, and just about as common.
At a comfortable distance from the fire Percivale sheds his downy vest, for the heat grows warmer, and uses it as a pillow when he lies on a blanket covering the finely sifted sands of the lakeshore. Dheryle straddles him, hovering in the air above him, her knees and hands supporting her and settling into the hollows that she carves in the sand. Percivale lies on his back looking up at her—and into the starry night where endless fires burn.
She is now the huntress reigning supreme over her willing prey. Her rear pointed to the sky, she brings her lips within kissing distance by lowering down on her elbows, her ripe breasts now brushing ever so lightly against her lover's chest, which she has managed to bare as well as her own. The kisses are full and moist, playful, but then lingering.
Percivale loved this position because it left his hands free to harvest her breasts as they hung in fullness, like fruit from a tree. She enjoyed the power and control that the position offered her; she could direct the lovemaking as quickly or as slowly as passion dictated.
She turns her head this way and that so he can kiss her from ear to ear. Her soft hair brushes his cheeks, time and time again, and sweeps away all notion of time and space. She reaches down and releases his love arrow from its confines as he reaches above and over her to strip down the last flimsy piece of her undergarments, and, for a time, massages her buttocks, but does not press her down upon him, for this is her move and there is magic to be enjoyed in that airy space of attraction between the sword and its scabbard.
He reaches under her to fan her quickly rising sparks into flame. After some minutes of this, her lips below are engorged and dripping hot rain down upon his manhood. Several times she stills her movements as her body's many tensions are swept away by the waves of well being that orgasm brings. With his other hand he gathers up first one breast, then the other, then both together.
Balancing on two knees and one hand now, she reaches for the stiff wick to which she will pass her fire, and strokes him from his balls to the tip where she finds the seepage of love's juices waiting to burst forth. She plays it against her button of desire to set the final fuse aglow and creeping.
Now her pulsating well of flame devours wick and wax, surrounding it with heat and comfort beyond belief for many lovely minutes. Finally, with a last surge of activity that they both know will take them beyond the point of no return, the raging flame of sword and scabbard tastes the powder itself in explosions of passion's tremendous energies revealed.
Yet awash with waves of contentment they pull a blanket over them and drift into the calm sleep that only lovers know.
The Last Curse on Earth
Percivale sits down to hear the Giant's tale and the giant begins: "The witch placed a curse on me as well. I will forever roam the earth in sadness if I do not accomplish the following by the end of this day: I must see the sun set three times in one day, and, I must, during daylight, create a dark space behind me that never ends. What will I do? I cannot stop the sun and raise it up again, nor can I cause the absence of light behind me and into the infinite depths of space!"
Day is nearly done and the horizon is rising to meet the bloodshot eye of day. Percivale, having studied under the poet-astronomer, Taliesin, quickly leads the giant to the shore where a small piece of low hilly land juts out into the sea. They face to the west and view the setting sun, now a symbol of the sad giant's dying hopes. The sun drops though some clouds and is bright again, but half of it is already below the horizon!
"Look at your shadow, giant! How long is your shadow at sunset or sunrise? What is shortest at noon grows longer as the afternoon wears on, until finally, it stretches forever behind you, since you are directly between the sun and that which is behind you."
"That is fine Percivale, but the sun is nearly set and will certainly not rise again until the morrow. I must still see three sunsets!"
"No time to explain now, giant. Quick! Lie down on the ground and see your first sunset today as the top sliver of the sun falls below, and is extinguished by, the horizon. See! There it goes. Now, quickly, stand up to your great height and what do you see?"
"I see the tip of the sun again!"
"And your second sunset of the day, giant?"
"Yes! I see it, and another green flash as well!"
"Now run up yonder hill and bring up the sun again so that it may set three times in a day!"
The gleeful giant runs up the hill in great leaps and turns to see the sun set three, four, even five more times, each sunset lasting but a few seconds.
The Jongleur
During Arthurian times the values of bravery, chivalry, and service were spread far and wide, coloring men's deeds everywhere. In this respect the Dark Ages were not so dark because the deeds of these men lent light to the future in the form of Chivalry. The carriers and tellers of such deeds were the jongleurs and the warrior-troubadours—traveling minstrels wandering from castle to castle, singing songs of heros, bringing news, reciting lyric poems of Britain's history—all in exchange for free meals, lodging, and whatever other compensation the listeners wished to provide. The freest of men, they roamed the countryside at will, owned by no one, ruler of none but themselves, but always welcomed by one and all. They searched not for fortune, but, as Whitman realized in his “Open Road”, they were good fortune.
And so it was that a jongleur sang his way into Gawain's castle on the day celebrated as the middle of summer. Gawain, the lighthearted merry man who often showed youths how to be young, had found true love in his spouse, Katerine, and yet lived many zesty days with her as she danced in his fine twinkling eyes.
The Horrit
The flagship of Thule enters the uncharted waterways of the marshes called the fens. It carries Arn, King and Commander of Thule, Scandia, and Daneland.
The ship makes its way ever deeper into the fens, that place of exile of Arn's grandfather, King Aguar. Arn seeks the Horrit, keeper of the iron book of all fate, in which is sealed the future. With Britain's and Thule's borders about to close, this is Arn's last chance. To come here, to the heart of the fens where the Horrit lives and hides is simply something that the owner of the "Singing Sword" must eventually do.
Feelings of dread accompany Arn as he walks the way to the Horrit's lonely hut-home. The door is opened for him by a sort of half-monkey/half-man. A small candle flickers and illuminates the crumbling pages of an ancient book. The Horrit turns the page and looks up. Arn notes his own name at the top of the page!
"So, you come, Arn, son of Valiant—I await you. Aye, I know only too well the legend of the 'Singing Sword', the sword that I hastily forged to guard against evil! With it you will lead armies, walk the halls of palaces, travel far to foreign lands, but, it is an awful master and will never bring you peace—since its terrible thirst for blood will bring many evil men to their end. Come, show me the blade—for the last time I will look upon the monster that I have made."
"Once I warned your father, Prince Valiant, that the owner of the blade would never find contentment and I showed him the future: that Camelot was to be ruled by Morganna, but you know what he told me? He said that ‘this thing called contentment is only for those who have reached their goal and are satisfied to go no further.' He then used the accursed sword to help change the future of Camelot."
"And so I tell you now as a prophesy, that, after six years of peace, the free world of good men will end suddenly, and that only the 'Singing Sword' and the 'Crimson Spear stand in the way of this fate! Go now. Be gone. Let me die in peace!"
Taliesin Bids Farewell
Riding down the coast to Tintegel at Tip of Cornwall, Percivale and Dheryle seek out Taliesin, for it is rumored that he is about to depart Britain.
Indeed,Taliesin awaits and there is a hardy greeting between the King and his wizard. "Where do you go my friend?" asks Percivale.
"The time has come, Percivale, for me to go to my people and live out my life with them. Also, I have found true love in Calliope. Of course, I would not leave before speaking with you of the future, for there are critical times ahead."
"And if your people depart the earth soon, as it is foretold that the gods will do to leave to earth to man?" wonders Percivale aloud.
"Then, Percivale, I must go with them. Now listen, I tell you of the future."
Taliesin continues: "The plague will spare Britain in the years ahead, and indeed, I go personally now to battle with the plague-witch far out at sea, but the seeds of contagion have already been planted in Europe and will wreak great havoc there. Taking advantage of the confusion, the barbarian hordes will come to rule most of the Earth, including Britain and Thule. All this in six years or so from today. That is the future as it now stands. Bleak!”
Merlin Speaks
Night falls quickly, as if the sun cannot bear to hear the news. The ghostly spectre of Merlin fills the darkened sky, and old Merlin speaks: "While some of the immediate future is certain, sometimes the distant future can be changed by heroic deeds. But I say to you now that if the world falls to the likes of the Goth, Hun, Moslem, and Turk, then all that we know and love, all of our world, all of our literature and deeds, will have gone for naught, and be destroyed, and the world will enter a new Dark Age from which it will never emerge. But do not rush off to Europe now, for the plague would consume your armies along with all of our hopes, but rather, now, enjoy a period of peaceful and beautiful years here in Britain. So has the Horrit spoken to Arn. Now, Percivale, my son Taliesin does that which he must."
"Goodbye Percivale." says Taliesin with some finality. "I may not return, if ever.”
“I need you,” answers Percevale.
“You need only to look deep within yourself to find me in time of need, I have always been there and always will be. Be good, be happy."
"You do your part Taliesin, now, and I'll do mine when the time comes. Hail, and Farewell!"
Plague
Our Story: The lights of civilization grow dim as the deadly Plague of the Red Death overtakes good men and barbarians alike in Europe. Only those on islands like Ireland, Britain, Iceland, Thule, Scandia, and the Misty Isles are spared. But, they remain isolated from the world and from each other, their borders sealed against the horrid sickness.
Sad Stories
When Pandora opened the box of wonder many evils flew out and were loosed upon the world, including envy, discontent, plague, crime, and desolation before she could slam down the lid; however, it was just in time to prevent the escape of one thing—hope. And this was what the world needed now, for it was the most terrible outbreak of illness that had ever occurred in history.
The first year of a plague is always the worst—and hardly any family is spared. About one in ten dies and corpses are soon rotting in the streets, causing the spread of many other illnesses. The next year is not as bad as the first but, is, by itself, terrible and takes one in fifteen to the grave.
During the next several years the plague returns each spring, but lesser and lesser outbreaks occur each time, until finally, for two years the plague does not return at all and is assumed to have run its course. But fully one-third of Europe is dead!
There is one benefit of the plague, if we dare think of a plague's benefits: that, there being less people alive, there is more than enough wealth and property for the survivors; nearly everyone is well off, even rich, good and bad man alike.
Although all races were affected by sickness and death, that of the Visigoths was not as greatly affected, perhaps due to their sheer orneriness, and so they began to enjoy a resurgence from their recent subjugation. Only fragments of the once great Western Roman Empire remained to prevent this, and though they fought valiantly, they were soon overcome.
And so it was that the unexpected wealth of the Goths merely whetted their appetites for more riches and the power that accompanies it… but we now get ahead of our story—and so the world war that ensues will be detailed on another page of the Last Knight's Almanac.
He will awake no more, oh, never more!
Within the twilight chamber spreads apace
The shadow of white Death, and at the door
Invisible Corruption waits to trace
His extreme way to her dim dwelling-place;
The eternal Hunger sits, but pity and awe
Soothe her pale rage, nor dares she to deface
So fair a prey, till darkness, and the law
Of change, shall over his sleep the mortal curtain draw.
—Shelley
What is death to me?
Where death is, I am not.
Where I am, death is not.
To that high Capital, where kingly Death
Keeps his pale court in beauty and decay,
He came; and bought, with price of purest breath,
A grave among the eternal. Come away!
—Shelley
A Poem In Stone
Our Story: We are back, almost. A year has passed since the meeting of Percivale and Dheryle. Sorry, but there are not any chronicles for that year. We do know that they were married in Camelot and lived happily. She returned once to Iceland, and as promised, returned to Britain for the next six months. It is summertime now. The plague is quieting down in most parts of Europe, although not gone yet, but here life goes on as it must. Britain grows stronger each day. Many squires have distinguished themselves and now stand before their King:
Knighthood
Knighthood is never granted hastily, but many men were more than ready now, having proved themselves during the preceding years. These men, Percivale knew, would form the nucleus of the force which would eventually be called upon to thwart the sad future that would otherwise come to pass after several more years.
Camelot, that poem built in stone, called many to its service and to that of the world's good causes. Many rose up through the ranks, although some did not, but all dedicated their lives to the causes of righteousness.
The ranks were as follows:
- novice
- page
- common foot soldier
- common squire
- pikeman, archer, or grappler
- knight's squire
- knight
- knight of the Round Table
- senior knight of the Round Table
Now it is Bogar's turn, then Hargrave's, to kneel and be dubbed a knight by a light touch of the ‘Crimson Spear', as King Percivale steps forward:
"In the name of God, King Arthur, St. Michael, and St. George, I make you a knight, Bogar, and give you the right to bear arms and the power to mete justice. Now, rise, Bogar, knight, and Protector of the Empire."
"My King, it is a duty that I will solemnly obey."
"Now, Bogar, kneel and prepare to rise again."
Bogar is perplexed at the King's strange request but kneels again. There is another touch of the Crimson Spear, this time on the other shoulder.
"Now rise, Sir Bogar, Knight of the Round Table and Defender of Heaven."
And now Hargrave steps forward…
Darkness Falls
Our Story: Europe has not been entered for seven years. The plague has been absent for a year—if it does not return this season it will be assumed to have run its course. Britain welcomes Angles, Jutes, and all who come in peace to its shores. There is new feeling of confidence, for Britain is herself once more, free yet powerful, alluring but commanding, and beautiful beyond belief in mind, country, and spirit. Sadly, Taliesin left years ago and never returned. And from Europe come only these ominous forewarnings: the Goths grow strong in the west and the south, to the east Mohamet incites followers to spread Islam by force, and to the north and east barbaric hordes are contained only by the Rhine and Danube and stretch all the way back to China's great wall, and the Turks are restless, as usual.
Evening for a Classic Lady
Once before the Visigoths had nearly conquered Europe by pretending to come to the aid of the falling Western Roman Empire—and were only stopped by the brave deeds of King Arthur and his knights. Now, only isolated fragments of Arthur's once great empire remain, and, thanks to the plague's effects, quickly crumble, and the Visigoth, not as severely affected by the plague, gains from sickness what he could not win in war… for now Western Europe is his!
Again the flow of goods from Europe is cut off and the Goth interferes with trade between Britain and her allies. Now every day that passes will see the Goths grow stronger from Europe's riches, while all others grow weaker. But the time for allied action is not yet ripe; there is much preparation to be done, for a world war is no idle venture.
Percivale counters the demands for a invasion of Europe by stating both the obvious and the not so: "Winter is at its height, our supply lines would freeze. And the contagion may yet lurk in hidden recesses; in the Spring we shall know for sure. And finally, the Goth is strong and unified now. Attack now is not wise. Better to wait until he grows fat and lazy with his new-found wealth."
Cheldric, Duke of the Saxons, stands alongside Percivale, to whom he has sworn fealty on this historic day, and affirms his King's decision, but adds: "It is we, Britain's Saxons, who shall fight the fiercest for Saxony, our fatherland!"
But sadly, Percivale knew, as he had been alerted by Taliesin, that soon the whole world would be aflame with hate, and that only careful, cunning, and crafty planning, not rash action, would bring the world's hopes home to stay.
As Winter eases, a Grecian treasure ship sails into Camelot laden with the pride of Greece—its classic literature. The looks on the faces of the ship's crew tell Percivale what he already knows—that Greece, that Lady of Classic Splendor, has fallen to the Moslems, and that Constantinople, also called New Rome and the Jewel of Christendom, unconquerable for centuries, now stands alone against an onslaught of Islamic madmen driven to war feats beyond comprehension by whirling dervishes and Mahomet's ceaseless preaching.
Blackness Arrives
Percivale orders the precious Grecian literature onward to Ireland, for even Britain may not be safe for long, and thence to Iceland if need be.
The Grecian ship's captain reports, about the war, that those sailors which survived have fled to the Misty Isles, while the remaining soldiers flock to Constantinople vowing to defend her to the last.
Appeals to Percivale to aid Constantinople are turned aside: "It is true that if Constantinople were to fall then the Eastern Roman Empire would be forever lost, but, the city cannot be conquered now, and can withstand a siege of a year or two before its only possible conqueror, starvation, can take it, and, believe me, we will not then let that happen, but better now that she draw the Moslem like a magnet to his slaughter, thus diverting his attention from other, weaker, regions."
Yet, by two's and three's, so as to not attract attention, British warships are sent to that great inland sea, the Mediterranean, for this is where the war must begin if the great plan of cleaving enemies apart, those known and those as yet unknown, is to be accomplished by distant and separate invasions.
A fast ship now bears into Camelot's harbor, carrying another dreaded messenger, dreaded because they always bring bad news of late. The news: The Hun has crossed the Rhine to take unfair advantage of Europe's plight; the Vandal marches to sack Rome and mark its final fall; the Turk retakes Jerusalem; and the Visigoth pushes the Franks to the sea in Gaul; and the Franks ask for your evacuation aid.
{Out of that Ocean's wrecks had Guilt and Woe Framed a dark dwelling for their homeless thought.}
Clovis II, King of Gaul, facing certain defeat, does what he must do and calls a retreat to allow the finest of the Frankish troops to seek refuge across the channel so they might live to fight another day when the odds are better.
Percivale immediately dispatches every available ship to the shores of Gaul in one of the largest successful evacuations of an army that the world has known—and it succeeds because Clovis II will not leave his beloved land, and entices the Goth with the bait of his ready capture as he draws inland with a few brave men, and so diverts his pursuers away from the fast retreating Frankish army.
The French soil that he loved so much now surrounds Clovis II in eternal and everlasting comfort in an unmarked grave where a few dedicated followers buried him while the twelve Goths that he took with him rot in the fields abandoned in death. But where, oh where, is young Clovis III?
A defeated, but mostly intact army, arrives safely in Britain, and it is then declared that if and when Europe is invaded, that Frankish shock troops shall lead the way home to retake all of French soil or join Clovis II beneath it.
Our continuing story: The time for invasion is not yet at hand. However, equipment arrives daily in Britain from free foreign shores; blacksmiths work day and night, early and second plantings continue in the fields; spring freshens the air; regiments are formed and trained; Frankish troops grow healthy once again. King Percevale can only hope that all will be in readiness by the time that the geese fly south and the leaves begin to fall.
Constantinople
The scene: The Moslems and Turks are laying on the longest siege that the holy city of Constantinople has ever known. Great siege engines have been constructed and rolled hundreds of miles over roads carved ahead of them to reach the wall of the fabled city. Hordes of crazed madmen encircle the city on every side.
Constantine IV supervises the action at the latest trouble spot on the wall and watches yet another mighty siege tower go to blazes from the effect of his newly discovered Greek Fire. There, on another wall, comes a human wave assault with ladders. Archers on the ingenious triple tiered walls let loose arrow after arrow into the mob. The slaughter is endless, for when one Turk falls, another takes his place to meet death and glory. To die in war was the ambition of every Turk, or so the Great Khan would have them believe
Finally, the blessed darkness falls as the attackers retreat to their camps for the night, and the city's defenders sneak outside the walls to make repairs. The attacks begin anew the next morning at some other gate or portion of the wall, but Constantinople was built to last! Well stocked with food, water, warriors. and weapons, the Christians' finest city has easily survived the first one hundred days of siege.
Indeed, as Constantine IV turns from the wall and looks inward, his city and its churches look quite eternal in the bright summer sunlight, especially Holy Sancta Sophia, the most magnificent church in all of Christendom, its gold glittering dome a symbol to all of that which is forever good and eternal. Constantinople! Unconquerable for centuries, heart and soul of the Eastern Roman Empire, New Rome, sister city of Camelot, built on seven hills and ever protected by the mountains, the sea, and three solid walls. Constantinople now stands alone in the East as the world crumbles around it.
When founded and laid out by Constantine I (declared Caesar in wild and old Roman Britain), his followers were aghast when he walked out the boundaries of the city he was to have them build—for the walls were to be several miles on each side! But no site was so fortified by nature: The hills gave it height and view, the harbor of the Golden Horn and the Sea of Marmora gave it access and control of the sea and protection from attack, and cold winters helped, also, as did the strong winds on the Bosporus. Many a Caliph had attacked it, over long periods of time, and each went home in despair, never to return to power.
Blockaded for two hundred days now, the city yet stands solid; where outer walls weaken, new inner walls are built overnight. There is no longer any grain left from the steppes of Russia, but the city is large and every spare patch of dirt is put to the task of growing food which is to be carefully rationed, two portions a day to warriors, one to all others.
…and elsewhere, the Huns cross the Danube, the Vandals enter Rome, casting an eye on North Africa, and, somewhere, in the uncharted waters of the foggy Aegean Sea near the Misty Isles, a nation of born sailors goes to war while another great navy enters at the other end of the Great Inland Sea and passes the Rock of Gibraltar. A crippled sailor looks out from the first ship—it is the man with a peg leg and a hook hand, the one who built the ships that he thought he would never sail, Sir Gundar Harl, now commander of Britain's war fleet.
Victory at Sea
Our Story: Deserted for decades now, Rome falls easily to the Vandals, but the words "Rome has fallen" still hang heavy in the air as the messenger speaks them before the King's court. In the great Inland Sea a spy notes the passage of the Vandals to North Africa and eventually takes the news to Gundar and his fleet. This is a lucky break since the Vandals could be easily isolated in Africa, and all of the commanders knew that isolation and separation of enemy forces was a most essential part of the war strategy. If the Mediterranean Sea could be soon taken, then much enemy shipping and communication could be brought to a standstill.
The Vandals are followed by a small ship, painted blue to match sea and sky.
The Boy Who Carved Ivory Ships
Many years ago a valiant prince of Thule gazed at a ship model carved wonderously of cedar and ivory. The prince, after many moments spent lost in admiration, asks the origin of such a fine piece of work. He discovers that it is the work of a crippled carver of ivory named Gundar Harl, and so seeks him out to learn his story.
Gundar tells him: "I was an ivory hunter and sailed to the icy north in search of the walrus. We were successful, but then a terrible storm broke and it was many days before the broken ship's survivors were found. My foot was so badly frozen that I lost it. Later, we were attacked for our valuable ivory cargo and in the ensuing fight I lost my hand. Now I am but half a man and carve the ships I'll never sail."
But the young prince knew of Thule's need for good shipbuilders and hired Gundar to build full scale ships. Soon Gundar rediscovered his worth and became the finest shipbuilder Thule had ever known. Gundar implemented many new concepts and his ships took to breeze and sea like none that had come before. Knighting followed.
Many years later, Percivale and Arn, upon hearing the terrible prophesies, put every craftsman at Gundar's disposal—and he began the construction of the great fleet that now sails into the Great Inland Sea. Commanding the ships that he visualized as a boy Gundar Harl fights the feared and swift corsairs, plunders the pirate of his plunder, and begins the long process of laying open Europe's soft underbelly.
Yes, at last, Gundar Harl, now Senior Knight of the Round Table, Commander of the Navy, sails the many ships that he carved as a boy!
Spain is bypassed, for its barbarian forces are easily cut off by sea power and its own mountainous hem in the northern inland portion. Italy is retaken and will be used as Gundar's base, for it is undefended and is taken by surprise!
Back home, the victory-starved soldiers of the allied forces rejoice at these first naval successes of the war, for they know that when the sea is secure then the land invasion can begin.
And the eastern Mediterranean? It is the domain of the sailors of the Misty Isles. One of Galan's fastest ships reaches Gundar's fleet and delivers a load of pigeons, each tagged with the name of the city that it will fly to.
{Do we write the tales that we live
or do we live the tales that we write?}
The Misty Isles
(the story backs up slightly)
Somewhere to the east of Greece, in the Aegean Sea, lie the Misty Isles, forever shrouded and protected by nature's moist embrace of mist and wave.
To the far north the brave men of the Eastern Roman Empire make their last stand at the city that Constantine built. To the southeast the Infidel has taken Jerusalem. To the southwest the pyramids stand resolute against the sands of time and mock the impermanence of man's frail empires, but here the Vandals land to conquer all.
The misty sea itself is infested with barbarian sailors who will aid whatever madman rules with the most power and money. Hidden in the middle of this sea are the Misty Isles. From her temple on the main island, Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, watches in stone as her rapidly growing fleet puts to sea.
A flutist sets the tempo as oarsmen pull against the morning winds. Then, when out into the open sea, the sails swell and another day's work begins. Galan leads a crew of native mariners that know the sea as well as their mothers breasts.
One day a fleet of pirate ships is seen, bound for occupied Greece, and filled with plunder, and the chase is short. Galan unfurls vinegar-soaked hides to save against fire on his ships. Crosscutting through familiar winds Galan slices into the rear of the enemy fleet, thus causing the lead ships to waste time turning about. Archers set their flaming shafts to the sinew, and the untreated wood of the barbarian warships takes readily to the fire. Hooks are thrown on to the wallowing plunder-ships so they can be pulled to safety. The pirate soon loses his courage when faced with men that draw theirs from love, kindness, and family ties.
Blue
Our story moves but for a page back to the Great Inland Sea that separates Europe from Africa. While Gundar and his fleet attend to the healing of Rome's wounds, the pride of Gundar's navy, a blue spy ship, follows the trail of the Vandals towards Africa.
Yes, the ship is blue! There are not many things in this world that are blue, other than the sky and its reflection in the sea, but the blue spy ship blends with both of them and as a result is nearly invisible. The sails, once white, have been stained through and through with blueberry juice; the mast is, of course, blue spruce; on its flag flies the bluebird on one side and the bluefish on the other; the ship's bell is in the shape of a bluebell; and the captain's nickname is none other than Bluebeard, the original. Thus the ship blends with and "becomes" the sea.
The ship also carries grey sails for overcast days, but today is azure and the Vandals are seen landing on the Dark Continent. Then, from deep within the hull, the captain brings to deck the only thing aboard ship which is not blue—a startling white pigeon which knows only the Misty Isles as its home! The bird is released as all the sailors cry "Fly!".
The pigeon is unsure at first and circles the ship three times before heading in the correct direction. The bird is alone now over seas its has never known, but all it does know is that there is no place like home and that it must return there at any cost. On its leg is an important message, but the bird is not aware of the band. It only knows that it must land soon or grow weary from flying, and drop into the sea. Finally, the first isle appears and the pigeon lands near some of its own kind. It would be nice to stay, but home's magnetic attraction seems overpowering now that the bird is so close.
Misty Isles (con't)
Day after foggy day, Galan's swift triremes set forth into the familiar azure Aegean Sea, weaving among the Isles, searching for, and destroying pirate and Visigothic vessels of war, with underwater rams on strengthened bows to leave the cargo ships without escort vessel protection.
The triple-banked ships are a fearsome sight, slashing through the quiet blue sea, oar blades flashing wet in the golden sunshine, spray curling white above the powerful rams, or with large single sails swelling in the soft, warm, misty breezes.
Then, homeward bound, comes the protection of the enveloping mist that gives the Misty Isles its name. So, little by little, the Gothic/Turk sea power is whittled away to the point that even the hardiest barbarian will not take to sea.
On this day it is deemed safe to leave the Misty Isles to the more senior citizens, and Galan's navy sets sail southwest across the Mediterranean Sea, in a fog, towards the shores of Africa controlled by the Vandals. This then is the path to victory, for the pigeon has landed and given up its precious message.
To protect the Misty Isles, a mighty chain blocks the harbor entrance to all who might chance upon it by accident in an enchanted sea.
{The good man cannot be bribed —
he is good for nothing.}
A Little Bird Told Me
Galan takes most of his fleet on the long and dangerous voyage far from home. Little Galan waits on the railing until the last ship is nearly out of sight. One last wave and his father is gone.
Alexis wonders if she can find the heart to tell her little boy that she, too, may have to leave soon, to give hope to the people of Gaul where she rules the many lands of Lancelot's father—her grandfather, where she has been declared Regent until young Clovis III can grow up, if indeed he yet even lives and remains well hidden.
The little boy turns and looks deep into his mother's eyes, "Father left in a hurry, so I know the sea is awash with great danger. Was it the bird messenger?"
"Yes", she replies, "The pigeon arrived a short while ago with an emergency war-directive. Your father kissed me farewell, said that the time and the day-winds were already right, and left immediately with his swiftest ships and his best men. It seems that the world is crumbling to pieces now as never before."
"Mother, why does he not take me with him? I want to be a part of history, too!"
"One day you will be, my son, one day you will be…"
…Meanwhile, in Africa, Huneric, Vandal King, is proud—oh, he has miscalculated a bit and has landed in a desert part of Africa, but he never-the-less rests to reflect on his other luck and accomplishments: he has carried off Rome's treasures, and Gundar's fleet is tied down in Italy undoing the damage he has done to the land and people; the winds have just changed for the season and Gundar cannot therefore sail forth, at any rate, even if he could resist helping people in need, which he can't—oh at what a disadvantage is the good and saintly man, for he is not free to do whatever he pleases, as do I, Huneric, soon to be King of all Africa.
"Let the Goths, Huns, Turks, and Moslem, divide up the states of Europe," Huneric announces to his troops, "for here we will rule an entire continent! Even our landing spot is lucky! Yet unseen by anyone worthwhile, we can easily send out many scouts and spies to size up the country's strengths and weak spots. And, when Africa is taken, we'll come to rule the Great Inland Sea as well!"
Sailing all day and through the night, Galan spots the thinly guarded Vandal fleet at the reported spot. Now the flutists stop, as the oars hang silently in the air just above the water, and the vessels coast out of the early morning mist into the harbor while the the Vandals rub their eyes in both astonishment and sleepiness.
"How did they know!'' cries a Vandal captain, sighting Galan's fleet coming out of the mist," and so soon!"
A little bird told me, thinks Galan silently.
Cries go out for help but the bulk of the Vandals forces are far away, looking for more wealth. Soon their war fleet is in flames, stranding the Vandals in the hot, bare, sandy, desert of Africa!
"Look around' reads the inscription on the Sphinx "I rule, all that you see, now and forever`"
Call To Arms
Our Story: We are back in Britain now and our story is but slightly behind in time from the events in the Great Inland Sea. Never has an island nation, outnumbered ten to one, brought men and horses to oust an enemy of such magnitude from Europe and been able to sustain such an attack, with its long and tenuous supply lines and without holding a single castle in the enemy's wide territory, but such preparations were even now taking place in Britain, because good men cannot stand idly by while their brothers cry for aid.
However, the time is not yet right but is drawing ever near as the ships of Thule fare forth to make safe the local seas. From far away comes some bad news: the Huns, Goths, Vandals, Moslems, and Turks have formed an uneasy alliance for their common good. Each day it grows stronger and they have formed a central headquarters in Vienna, in the heart of their collective empire, equidistant from all edges of the known world. Britain's warriors grow rash and restless, but Percivale forestalls the invasion because summer's heat reigns over Europe now and there is still much preparation to be done at home. "Soon," he calms, "soon".
Percivale begins to think out loud while his new squire, Arslan, stands by. Arslan is so young, just a boy really, and too small to make a good warrior, but he is determined to make his mark in the world on the face of war.
"Arslan, the Earth is surrounded in its orbit by warlike Mars on the one side and by peaceful Venus on the other—we of the Earth are bound by love and beauty in the orbit above and by war and destruction in the orbit below. Mars and Venus, two extremes, with us right in the middle! What shall we do? Fight?"
"I will be a great warrior someday, my King! If not on Earth, then in Heaven!"
"But Arslan, is there not life to be lived and enjoyed."
"If I die a warrior, my King, it is so that others might enjoy life, I suppose."
What To Do?
“What to do, my boy?”
“I know not.”
"Well", replies Percivale, "since Taliesin is long gone, I shall go one last time to Avalon to find out what must be done, although I believe I already know the answer to the terrible decision that must be made."
So the King travels to Avalon. But where there was once mist and bog, there is now only clear sky and solid ground. The gods have departed, Taliesin gone with them! There is no more Lady of the Lake, no more Avalon. It is gone forever as if it had never existed! So, Taliesin and his people, perhaps not gods, but certainly much more than men, had finally departed, as they'd said they would. Having made man in their own image it was time for them to move on now to seed other worlds. When will we meet them again, thinks Pervicale, the King and Commander, as he returns.
"Well Arslan, perhaps we do survive, after death, immersed in the mind of the gods, but what matters now is social justice. Man, in his love and beauty, is the Divine Essence itself perhaps. Maybe in man alone is our vision of God, a god created in man's image, but, certainly, if we fail now against the barbarian, then God dies with us and all is lost forever more and the devil reigns supreme
Now comes what many believe and hope to be the final call to arms, but, even so, the King and his captains know that there is yet much training to be done in a short period of time. Britons, Celts, and Scandians heed the mobilization call. Many who were once enemies of Britain are united by the common foe and come, as well: the Scots, the Saxons, the Jutes, and the Danes.
As summer begins to fade, the Arabs take Tunis, and Gundar's fleet wends its way from whence Rome in eternal grandeur stands, but some feel that the largest crusade ever to be taken by man will fail and they have many questions for Perceval.
"How will we gain food and drink in Europe if our supply lines run out?"
"If we are right and good, then the people will feed us!" comes the answer.
"How will we take Europe's strongly fortified castles?" the doubters ask.
"Well, we helped build those castles, didn't we? So we can easily unbuild them."
Meanwhile, the Huns cross the Rhine, and the Ostrogoths, the gentler cousins of the Visigoths, leave the Ukraine, carrying all that they own and hold dear, driven from their homes.
King Percevale drills his knights and foot soldiers without rest to perfect them in his new tactics. His captains grumble—there will be no individual heroics, just machine-like efficiency. The bugler calls the troops to the King's standard at the end of another day as the horsemen practice the "Taunting of the Boar". In this particular drill, an enemy which holds high ground is patiently taunted by bowmen into charging into a valley of death. This day there is a chill in the air as the dry season begins and the natural world begins its annual decay. But there are many drills and calls yet to be perfected. There is the "Flight of the Seagull, in which several flocks of horsemen seemingly float and flutter about the field of battle to feast on scraps of enemy garbage. There is the "Sting of the Bee" in which the best of the lancemen suddenly converge and swarm from the wide field of battle and head straight for a vital enemy area. There is also the "Charge of the Wounded Bear" in which reserve horsemen hide inside caves or woods while defeat is feigned on the field, then, when all seems lost and the enemy breaks ranks to partake in the slaughter, the reserves rush forth into the confused flanks of the enemy as the retreaters suddenly turn back on the enemy.
All such calls of the bugler must be memorized, with each man knowing well his part, since there is little else that can be heard above the sounds of battle. Each day near the end of practice, a special call, "The Crane", is signaled, although it is practically useless in battle due to its complexity and intricate timings not well suited to the wildness and emotion of the battlefield. Invented by Gawain, its use now in practice is necessary if only to build discipline and attention to memorized detail under pressure. In "The Crane" the enemy is given many openings wherewith they could easily totally triumph while the perpetuators seemingly stand first on only one leg, then on the other, then on neither until apparently unrelated wide field maneuvers finally come together in pincer-like movements which devour the enemy from the end to the middle in slices.
The World in Decay or The Goose Has Flown
Autumn comes early in Britain and its weed-flowers invade the fields of purple heather as the dry season begins. In September the earth rests, after having given itself wholly to the sun. The sunflower embodies that idea for all to see, but soon, it, too, begins to droop its head and die. Soon the leaves will grow brittle and make their return to mother earth.
The Moors from Morocco grow greedy and invade Spain from the south and Vienna is hailed by fiend and foe alike as the center of a new and evil empire from which the entire world can be controlled. Indeed, the world is truly in decay.
However, the Goths in northern Europe begin to cast a wary eye at Gundar's deep incursions into Italy and begin to send several divisions south. But, sly Gundar, after drawing these Goths south, will only put to sea and make his next move, already planned as part of a master plan mapped out long ago. For, his navy, and Goth armies, are but pawns jostling in the early stages of a global chess game!
Percivale joins the hunt for winter's meat and his guide tells him something which sets his destiny for all time. "See there, my liege, high up in the sky all alone: it is the leader-goose come to take the flocks south. It's quite amazing that the leader-goose can know the precise day that the flocks will come to him and the exact place in the sky to wait for them. See him there, just circling and circling, biding his time. And sure enough, here come the flocks of geese that he is to guide! The seasons turn now, the goose is flown!"
"And now, Hogarth, my guide, I must be the leader-goose, for the allied leaders have just elected me Supreme Commander of Allied Forces. I fear the time is near. Now I ask you, are there many leader-geese?"
"Yes, my king, there are many, but all are driven by a single overriding force, a supreme leader-goose that drives their souls. And now, my king, I ask you a question, how can we win against a united enemy in foreign territory who outnumbers us ten to one?"
"Not to fear, my guide, like our friends in the sky, we'll split up and follow the leader-geese in separate flocks so we do not have to face the enemy all at once, and so he will be forced to spread out his forces thinly. Also, note that the enemy is in territory that is foreign as well. Then, when the enemy is worn down, the flocks will join together in the final battle. When it is over, and this may be many years from now, I will sit down and say 'hello' to the other leader-geese, that is, to the friends that I have not seen for years, namely Arn, Galan, Gundar, Alexis, and Gawain.
{The days are bright and sunny now,
but the year dies in the night while we sleep.
It's time for old friends to meet,
old wine to drink, and old wood to burn.}
Drama, a Cheer, and a Prayer
The Scene: Camelot court, where King Percivale is giving his monthly address. Many soldiers and knights attend, for they feel that the time has finally come for them to carry out their occupation as men-at-arms for good cause.
Percivale speaks, first giving the latest news, both good and bad: "The Seljuk Turk now marches to take Jerusalem from his Turkish brethren of the north—at least some of our enemies fight amongst themselves, but not as much as we had hoped, thanks to the unity of the Vienna Pact signed by Hun, Moslem, and Goth alike. Worse, the Western Roman Empire no longer exists—and even proud Constantine has sent me a desperate message—they need food in Constantinople! But there is good news, too. Our fleets now rule the seas, we have retaken Rome with our navy and the Vandals' fleet has been destroyed by Galan."
The assembled knights clap and cheer the good news as Gawain senses the surge of feeling and cries out "Let us invade Europe now!"
The King gives him a discouraging look, perhaps only to set up the bit of drama which now follows.
Percivale continues, "I have decided to call a meeting of the senior knights of the Round Table…" He pauses to allow the tension to build.
A silence fills the room. All are dumbfounded! Here they came ready to hear a declaration of war and the King calls for an impossible Round Table meeting, for the senior knights are far away, in other countries.
Bogar can take it no longer, and, being one who can interrupt the King, having once been his squire, says what everyone in the room is thinking but dares not say:
"The Senior Knights of the Round Table are mostly all Kings now and are thus scattered all over the world. It would take months for them to get here, even if they could, which they can't! Another long delay? Just to have a meeting to decide what we already know we must do? Galan and Gundar are a world away, Arn is far off in Thule, Taliesin is gone away forever… Indeed, Gawain is the only one who could attend the fool meeting!"
During Bogar's ranting, Percivale looked somewhat pleased, and this was perhaps why Bogar went on so long. As Bogar finishes, the knights in the room nod their approval. Gawain, knowing well a twinkle in the King's eye, walks to the forefront and asks: "Percivale, what are you up to?"
Percivale begins walking toward the nearest door. "The meeting of the senior knights is to be held in Vienna! Dismantle the Round Table and prepare to bring it there."
A short silence of disbelief follows, then it dawns on everyone in the room: the invasion of Europe is at hand! For, in order for the senior knights to reach Vienna, the heart of the enemy empire, the war will have to have been won in no uncertain terms. A grand cheer breaks out, the tension is broken, and a page of history turns to reveal the story of a nine-pronged attack… (But we get ahead of our story now so let's slow down just a bit.)
Percivale now reenters the courtyard carrying his King's shield of the Grail's Golden Chalice. "Arslan, bring me my broadsword and the hope of your youth!"
"Now, all my knights, gather 'round. During this last decade you've been romancing all the local women and living well, as well you should, for it is your granted privilege because now and again the time comes when you must risk your lives as protectors of the world's innocents and earn your keep as knights.
Percevale continues, “In six days we land in Flanders!" Other allied forces will land elsewhere, at intervals. The first forces to land will naturally draw the greatest enemy strength to them, but they will then perform a feint retreat and land at another spot. Shortly thereafter, Frankish shock troops will lead us into Gaul, their homeland, as I have promised them. Independent but allied Saxon units will then retake Saxony deep in the interior, their homeland. Do not soldiers fight best in their own territory? We will retake castles along the way by use of tricks I have learned from the Chronicles. Here to rule at home in Britain, I appoint Sir Gawain as Regent in my stead ."
Gawain is quick to pick up on the compliment and says: "I am flattered to be so selected, but, as a senior knight, I have received an invitation to sit at a certain table in Vienna which I cannot very well decline…"
Sea and Southward
Early one morning, the cool wind being from the far North, the last geese all soar so suddenly and feel the wind in their wings, and a strength comes upon them, and a strange old knowledge and a more than human faith, and flying high and sailing south they leave Britain behind, and see, at last, the huge and homeless sea, and, steering by the grey sea-currents, go ever southeastward with the wind.
During the day the rolling sea has its way with with the multitude of small ships that dot its surface. At sunset, the Last Knight looks back whence he came. More than once he finds himself longing for the West and sees, in the shimmering bands of sunset clouds, his dear love in her bright flowing dress calling him home. The sun soon sets, as all the colors of the world and heaven hold a last festival with him over the sea, then slip one by one away before the sure approach of the darkness of war.
Soon after dark many go to sleep as best they can, for they will have to rise early in the blackness. By song the helmsman cheers himself in the loneliest of nights. When land is sighted, the helmsman's song ceases, and due to this absolute quiet, suddenly all awake and know that this is the beginning of the longest day…
Invasion!
Our Story: Crossing the English channel at night is a fleet of 800 ships. Ten miles from the shores of Gaul the lights are doused in the lead ships, and, shortly thereafter, in the rest of the fleet. Sailing in the eerie and utter blackness, the knights tighten their mail and feel for the comfort of their weapons. The only light that shines now is the desire in the hearts of knights and soldiers to relight the flame of freedom in plague and war ravaged Europe. Meanwhile, the allied forces head for other landing spots…
Foothold
During the next few days, nine leader-geese land their forces land on the shores of the motherland—headed by four Kings, two Queens and three Knight-Commanders. All know that they must take and hold a beachhead for at least twenty-hours at any cost in order to allow time for the unloading of the ships. The first ships to reach shore are driven over shoal and rock and grounded on the beach. Any damage can be repaired later. On the prow of the first ship there is a model of a brazen child bearing an arrow with a bended bow. The face of future man is turned towards the continent, and thither he looks…
The breeze comes soft and sweet this morning, and the sea is smooth for the landings. The ships run on dry land now and each ranges by the other's side. There we see the good sailors, knight's and their squires, captains, and commanders.
All sally forth onto the sand and unload the ships, cast the anchors, haul the ropes, bear out shields and saddles, and land the war horses and palfreys. All the while the archers come forth, touching land first, each with his bow already strung, and with his full quiver of arrows slung at his side. All are ready to attack, to shoot, to wheel about and skirmish in order to give cover until the first knights can come off and take the initiative. And so, after the archers go forth, the knights land, all armed, with their hauberks and mail on, their shields slung at their necks, and their helmets laced. The knights form together in the clearing gained by the archers, each armed, and mounted on his war horse: all have their swords girded on, and ride forward into the gathering enemy with their lances down…
Soon they go forth in success.
Arn and his men of Thule and Scandia land in northwest Saxony; the Jutes in Russia; Dheryle and her Icemen in the Nether-Land; Percivale's main force of Celts in Flanders; the Franks in Calais, headed by Alexis; Cheldric's Saxons in northeast Saxony; Gawain and the Scots in Little Brittany; the Danes on the mid-Baltic coast; Rory Mor and his Irish troops on Land's End in Gaul. Galan and his navy enter the North Aegean to fight their way by water towards Constantinople, while Gundar leaves Italy, swings around the boot and makes war in the Ionian sea, preparing to land in Greece to aid the Romans.
Too late the Goth troops in Italy realize that they now have no one to fight and are hundreds of miles from the front.
Inland, after the landings, Percivale and Arn meet moderate resistance as expected, while Rory Mor meets none and begins a daring maneuver to cut behind the lines of the coastal Visigoths; Alexis also enters easily and each day the ranks of the Franks are swelled with the arrival of members of the rebel underground, who are soon outfitted. At the coast, the remainder of the ships are called in and are unloaded, day after day. Soon the final cargo comes off the last ship: it is the actual Round Table itself!
Tears and Sunshine
The next few days are a race to surround and trap the northern Visigoths in one of the many valleys before reinforcements from the south can arrive.
As Percivale's forces relentlessly drive south, stopping but briefly for food, young Arslan, being the King's squire, rides with the King's Guard and has become the mascot for the army, his youth and joy a wellspring to all. He rides point, a position of great honor, in front of, and protecting, the King.
But too late is a sniper seen in the tree, and too swift is the arrow meant for Percivale which pours pain and death into Arslan's heart in a lucky hit in the lightly armored zone about the arm's pit, an area exposed only when the arm is completely raised as in a salute or cheer, as Arslan's was in an answer to cheers for victory coming from the back ranks. Bogar quickly fells the attacker from his tree perch with his axe, but the damage has been done: young Arslan is going to be the first casualty of battle. All is silent now and it is a pivotal time for all as the absurd reality of war hits home so very dearly, a single death somehow much more meaningful than that of the multitude.
Arlsan is still alive, but fading fast. They lay him down on a warm stone and the physician makes the sad call that death is near. Percivale kneels over Squire Arslan, perhaps now the fallen symbol of the army's hopes and dreams. The squire speaks his last words to his King: "Foolish me, so young and untrained, I often fancied my self to be a pirate bold, a brave soldier, or along-shipped sea-warrior… I am sorry my King; I have failed!"
Percivale holds the dear boy near and replies: "I fancy you a hero that will live forever in song. That arrow was meant for me!”
Sweet life ebbs from a hero as Percivale's tears wet the stone, a stone warm from the sun's heat Oh, that sweet life… with its face of tears and sun, of salty seas and warm stone, of sadness and joy, that life as we know it and love it in its duality of yearning and fulfillment… that life ebbs as a hero dies. Tears from a King's eye continue to fall but a new resolve fills soldier's hearts now as the war for Europe begins. Finally, Percivale looks up and, seemingly dreaming, and sees the familiar tip of Merlin's three-headed staff rising over the crest of a nearby small hill…
But it is not Merlin, it is a middle-aged man, strangely familiar behind his new growth of beard.
"Does not anyone know me? Have I been gone so very long? I am Taliesin! Did you think that I could leave you forever! Oh, think it never!"
Taliesin puts his hand on the King's shoulder and says to one and all: "Tears and sunshine, yearning and fulfillment—you see, you cannot have one without the other. It is the way of things—and what makes us fully human, and I say 'us' because I am truly one of you now! Though Merlin is gone and Avalon is gone forever, I remain. Yes, I remain—and here I must die, for in this world my immortality can no longer be sustained. Never leave you! Arslan lives on in all of us now! Let us ride towards Victory now! I sense that many of the Visigoths have foolishly left their castles to see what all the fuss is about. But first, let say a few words for Arslan…"
{Every time you lie you murder a part of the world.}
—Merlyn
The “Serpent”
On the third day the setting sun gleams on helmets and spear points as the Visigothic horde appears, filling the vale with its vast numbers. As night falls, a thousand campfires flicker in the darkness. "We are much outnumbered,” says Gawain, “but the ‘Snake' can swallow a prey larger than itself,”
In the "Serpent" maneuver, the snake encircles its prey, the enemy's struggling mass, on their only open side, squeezing hard so that only the front of the enemy line can strike a blow.
At the morn of the next day, the leader of the Visigoths, knowing he can't hold back his savage warriors because they have no discipline, sends them toward their waiting foe.
The serpent then sheds its skin and renews itself as follows: Percivale's foot soldiers form in three lines across the valley floor. Every quarter hour a trumpet sounds and the first line steps back and the line behind takes its place. The Visigoths, hampered by their great numbers, must always face fresh troops!
When part of the line gives way, the adjacent parts weave back with it. Though, like a snake, the line has many bends, its gaps are immediately filled by roving men called "scales".
Many are the deaths of the Visigoths this day, but they, never-the-less, gradually gain ground through their sheer numbers alone, so the time has come for the "Serpent" to die. A trumpet sounds the snake's time-delayed death knell. Twelve minutes later, so as to disassociate the next maneuver from its trumpet call and disguise its prearrangement, the allies give way in apparent panic. This causes the Visigoth to break ranks in a wild scramble for blood. However, the Visigoth has not yet been introduced to the mounted knight.
However, the introduction is not a pleasant one! From the woods where they were concealed, fully-armed knights on mighty steeds come crashing into the disorganized Goths, lance points gleaming and thirsty for blood…
Now, for the first time in quite a while the mighty Goth tastes defeat—and repayment for his evil deeds. Those Goths who run away and are lucky enough not to be ridden down now do what they should have done in the first place—they retreat to their well fortified castles.
After the battle, the liberated villagers eagerly invite the victors into town for rest and refreshment and toasts of chilling ale… But much difficulty lies ahead in the taking of castles in central Gaul and Saxony.
Andelkrag
Our Story: The Visigoths lose the first battle in the north but remain strong in well fortified castles in central Gaul. But, before we get on with the many and various battles for those castles, our story turns to castle Andelkrag, in Saxony, the home of the warrior-troubadours, the only fortress in Europe not yet taken by the enemy. But first, even before we get to that, our story must flash back to Thule. It is about a month before the invasion of Europe.
Son of Arn
We are in Thule now. King Arn receives a desperate plea for help from Castle-Andelkrag. It is under prolonged sedge by the Huns and time is running out.
Arn must send someone there to give them hope that help will be on the way if they can only hold out a bit longer. A volunteer steps forward. He is young, eager, restless, and impatient like his grandfather. He is Arn's son, Val.
When Arn met Maeve, now some fifteen years ago, she conceived a son by him. When Arn married Maeve some eight years ago, the boy legally became Crown Prince of Thule, and was rechristened Val, in honor of Arn's father who the young boy resembled in both appearance and trait. For now, we shall call him young Val to avoid any confusion with Prince Valiant of Arthur's day.
Already a full squire at the age of thirteen, young Val is well on his way to knighthood now at age fifteen. Unable to sit still for long, he seizes on this opportunity. Arn is about to refuse young Val's request, but in looking at his son and his determination, sees plainly the two Crown Princes of Thule who came before. They. too. could not be kept at home.
"Alright Val, you are going!" says Arn to his only son. "The troubadours, who have given us so much, must be preserved at any cost. If you can reach them, give them hope; if not, then report their condition back to me. I ask but one things of you now: take Flamberge, the "Singing Sword", with you."
"I will, father. Now, soon I must leave."
“I know," replies Arn. I will be there to join you within two months with my Armies and together we will face the terrible hordes of Huns.”
"Together." answers young Val.
Young Val's full story may be found in the Chronicles of Thule.
The "Singing Sword"
The Huns, having lost many men at Andelkrag, now throw the sum total of the region's forces in its direction. The Great Khan orders his field commander, Karnak, to send him Val's head or not return at all!
Rory Mor, cutting laterally through Gaul in a successful attempt to draw the Goths to his fast disappearing trail, receives new orders and races into Saxony to rendezvous with the armies of Thule and Jutland…
Andelkrag has become much more than a simple castle : now it is the symbol of freedom and goodness in a dark age and keystone of the early war effort. With the war in Gaul at a pause, Percivale sends his best knights racing into Saxony, with two spare mounts each to gain extra travel time. They ride day and night without pause.
At dawn the next clay the Hun battalion issues forth, drums throbbing, spears waving and swords clashing on shields. Like a great octopus the Huns move slowly up the wide valley, their far-flung arms reaching into every fold and hollow of the encircling hills.
07-06-2007 09:48 PM 
