Return to Camelot
My Dearest Friend,I've been leaving space in here for illumination. Margin space, and even some blank pages for important events. Now, I almost feel like that's been a wasted effort. Should I really bother to take time to get a scribe to do something like that when I can't safely reveal my face in here? I don't know.
I think I'm just feeling a bit negative today. I wasn't sure I would even write about today, but its important, and it might be irresponsible not to. Our scouts discovered evidence of new camp sites in the woods not far from Camelot. It's not clear so far whether they belong to bandits, or if they could be small groups of Mordred's men.
Either way, tomorrow I'll be leading a company of men to investigate further, and Constantine will ride with me. He's one of our bravest and most skilled knights, so it makes sense to bring him. But I don't trust him, and I feel like I'll be watching my back the entire time.
James will be with me, but that's a source of stress, not comfort. I tried to command him to stay behind, but he was so upset at the idea that I relented. We've still been working on his sword skills, and he's getting better and better. After only a short time, he's already surpassed some of the squires who've been training consistently for years. The padded suit I designed for him is providing decent protection. It's a chain mail hauberk and chain pants, covered over in thick, multi-layered cloth. He has a decent amount of mobility - no worse than someone in full traditional armor. He's well protected from slashes. But he still winds up bruised after we train, and I don't know what will happen if he comes up against someone who isn't pulling their punches (or their sword strikes).
Still, I won't be here to protect him forever - at least a hope I won't. Oh, God. What if I am?! No. Enough of that. I know you and the others will bring me home before long. And when that happens, James will have to stand on his own. He may as well get some field experience in now. But that doesn't help me feel any less nervous about tomorrow.
If all goes well tomorrow, and Constantine doesn't "accidentally" stab me in the back, I will give you a full account of how it turned out. If I don't come back, I've already instructed both James and Tristan what to do with this book, and that should get it into the hands of a historian.
I miss you. I love you. I only wish you knew how much I loved you. But I was an idiot, and now here we are. I'm sorry. I feel the negativity starting to creep in again. I'll stop here, and when I come back to this, I'm sure I'll be feeling much better.
Ray kept his eyes open, watching everything and everyone carefully. Tristan rode on his right, and Constantine was on his left. "Want to keep me where you can see me, eh?" Ray had ignored the comment, but it was exactly true. James and the other squires for the front line rode behind them, and then came Percival, Gareth, Gawain and Bedivere - two friends of Constantine and two friends of Ray and Tristan. The remainder of the company fanned out behind them - about thirty strong all together.
The scouts had given them direction to head east from the edge of the castle grounds. Ray led the way, and they rode together without speaking, toward the last known location of the encampment.
About thirty minutes out from the castle, the advance scouts returned to the main company and reported that the camp was still there, but no one could be seen. The scouts said there was evidence they might have gone one of two directions. Ray made the choice to split the company into two. He asked Tristan to lead one half of the group, and Ray led the other half (including Constantine).
They marched on, and not long later they came upon the strangers. Ray frowned. He thought he could see the black and silver livery of Mordred's crest. "Dammit," he whispered.
"That bloody bastard," Constantine hissed.
Ray glanced at him. "Make ready."
Constantine nodded and gave a sign to the company. Ray looked back at James. "Take care, James."
"I will, Your Grace."
Ray made a sign to Constantine and rode forward, catching up to the intruders in a clearing. "Halt!"
The company ahead of them pulled up. They turned and Ray confirmed that it was Mordred's livery. "This is Raymond, High King of Camelot! State your business in our land!"
The encroaching knights turned, but no one came forward to address him. They immediately raised their swords and began to charge. Ray raised his sword and cried out, "Camelot! To battle!"
Ray's knights rode forward, and the battle began. Ray fought fiercely against the encroachers. He tried to keep his eye on Constantine and James, but he was forced to turn his full attention to the attackers in front of him before long. He fought three different men before his horse was spooked and he was thrown off. He rolled, and was on his feet again just in time to block another attack.
Ray navigated the chaos of battle as best he could - attacking anyone who attacked him, and keeping clear of anyone wearing the livery of one of his knights. Other than that, the cacophony of shouts, clanging weapons, horses here and there, were difficult to sort through while also making sure not to die.
At some point in the fight, Ray could tell he was separated from the main battle. The chaotic sounds weren't quite as loud, and he could tell the battle with his opponent was leading him away from the main group. He couldn't focus on it too much - the knight was skilled, and it was all Ray could do to make sure he kept his head.
After what felt like far too long, Ray finally bested his opponent and stood, panting but victorious. Now that he could focus on something other than kill-or-be-killed, he could hear another fight going on behind him. He quickly checked to be sure his opponent was really gone and he didn't have to worry about a stab in the back. Then he turned and saw the source of the fight he'd heard. Constantine and one of Mordred's knights were engaged a few yards away.
Constantine seemed to be holding his own, and Ray took a second to breathe and scan around them. He could hear more sounds of battle, but they were far away. Ray considered heading back to the main part of the fray, but before he could move, he heard a loud shout from the pair close to him.
Ray winced when he saw what had happened. The invading knight had managed to drive his sword deep into Constantine's shield arm. The shield itself was nowhere to be found. Constantine jerked free of the blade and staggered back. He managed to keep his feet, and keep his sword arm up, despite the deep gash in his left arm. Still, wounded as Constantine was, it took the other knight only a few more vicious strikes to knock him down and disarm him.
Ray watched in horror as the man wearing his friend's face looked hopelessly at the enemy knight. The intruder raised his sword over his head, and Ray felt himself "un-freeze" from his sense of shock and spring into action. He charged at Constantine's attacker with an enraged yell. The sudden sound startled Mordred's knight, distracting him from bringing his blade down on Constantine.
Those few precious seconds were just enough time for Ray to tackle the enemy knight. Ray bowled him over, and got to his feet first. The other knight was battered from his battle with Constantine, and whoever else he may have dealt with, but he was still strong and energetic. Ray was pushed back a few times, even after the advantage of surprise. He thought about Nate, and how he would feel if he found Ray again only to arrive too late. The thought that the man in front of him would be the cause of that pain filled Ray with rage, and gave him the extra adrenaline he needed to carry him through the fight.
Finally, Ray stood over the fallen knight, breathing hard, face dripping with sweat despite the cool weather. He bent down and wiped the blood from his sword onto the faded grass before sheathing the blade. He turned back to Constantine, who was still lying on the ground. Constantine stared at Ray in open amazement as he approached. Ray extended his hand. "Can you stand?"
Constantine nodded and took Ray's hand, letting Ray help him up. Ray turned away from Constantine's confused face and looked for his sword. When he found it, he cleaned it as he had cleaned his own. He glanced around, but still couldn't locate Constantine's shield. Ray went back and handed the sword to Constantine. The man sheathed the blade, but his amazement and confusion only deepened.
"Why?" Ray looked confused in turn. Constantine gestured toward the fallen knight with his wounded arm and winced, clutching the cut tight. Voice strained, he repeated the question. "Why? Why save my life after all I've done to you? No one is here to see. You could have let him kill me and no one would have known, but... you risked your life to save mine. Why would you do that?"
Ray frowned. "I would have known, Constantine," he said. "What kind of king would I be if I let someone kill one of my knights right in front of me without trying to stop it?"
Constantine shook his head. "But... I tried to kill you. More than once! I tried to humiliate you, I disrespected you at court as often as I dared, I... the things I said, I-"
"Constantine." Ray looked seriously at his former friend, and Constantine stopped speaking and looked into Ray's eyes, his expression intense. "You are a knight of the Round Table. You swore an oath to protect Camelot. I am the King of Camelot. I swore an oath to protect this realm and all her people. Even the ones who would not mourn my death."
Constantine's face flushed and he lowered his head for a few moments. When he met Ray's gaze again, his eyes were troubled. "I was so furious that Arthur passed me over, but... I think he knew the kind of man you were all along. And the kind of man I was. He knew I wasn't ready to be high king." Constantine startled Ray by sinking down to his knees. "I have wronged you these many weeks, my lord." he said. "I am ashamed of my words and deeds, and I pray you will forgive me." He drew his sword and offered it to Ray, wincing and gritting his teeth as he held it balanced across both his open hands. "King Raymond. You are the true and rightful ruler of Camelot. It would be my honor to serve you, Sire. If you will still have me, my sword is yours to command." He bowed his head, waiting for Ray to answer.
Ray was speechless for a few moments, overwhelmed with relief and happiness. Finally, he took the sword from Constantine. "Of course I will still have you," he said. Constantine sighed with relief. "You know well, I never wanted Arthur's choice to destroy our friendship. Nothing would please me more than knowing I can count you among my allies again." He touched the blade to Constantine's shoulders. "Rise, Constantine, King of Dunmonia, honored knight of the Round Table."
Constantine bowed deeply, then rose to his feet. "Thank you, Your Grace. Thank you."
Ray gave him back his sword and smiled. "Welcome back."