Return to Camelot
Chapter 26 - Rough Patch

My Love,

I hope you don't mind if I call you that. A truly horrifying thought occurred to me a few days ago, and I haven't been able to shake it ever since. I've spent so much time dreaming of the day I can finally see you again - finally tell you how I feel in person, instead of through these letters from another time. But a few days ago, I realized it has never even occurred to me to consider the possibility that you don't feel the same way.

My stomach is twisting up just writing that down. I keep thinking back to interactions we've had, trying to picture them as clearly and objectively as I can, and analyzing them as best I can. I can remember a few times where I've almost let myself go and told you how I felt, and I remember thinking maybe you hoped I would say something more. But whenever I try to examine those memories more closely, I find myself second guessing my memory of what really happened. Or even if I feel sure I remember how your face looked, or what your body language was like, I still wonder if I'm misinterpreting what I saw.

And then I started feeling guilty for putting pressure on you in my letters. Pushing my feelings on you when you don't feel the same. Why am I doing this to myself? I haven't even written to you for about four days, partly because of this new worry. I think maybe that's why I changed the way I address you. A little affirmation, maybe? Something to help boost my confidence? It's so stupid. I feel stupid, and I rarely say that about myself.

I am a grown man. I am mature enough to deal with it if you are only interested in friendship. And I know you well enough to know that you knowing how I feel won't cause you to stop being my best friend. Ironic that a figured this out months after I confessed my feelings in this book, but not when I still had you near me, two hallways, or a simple comms call away. What an idiot I was.

Wow, I am really down on myself today. It may be stress related. So much has happened in these few days when I've been too nervous to write. The encampment we routed was definitely from Mordred. He has officially declared war, citing the "unjust murder" of his knights. It's so colossally stupid, but there's nothing I can do now but prepare for the storm. In a way, I wish my suit tech was working. I could blast my way through his forces and you and the others would find me and this could all be over. But obviously, that can't happen, and I have to play this out until you find me in a more subtle way.

Yes, I think all this stress is what's really bothering me, not any fear that you don't love me. I mean, that's there, too, but I know I could deal with it. I think. God, I'm just going in circles and I need to stop.

I miss you. I miss M. And Z and everyone else. I miss home. I miss my desk and my- I can't even talk about what I miss because I might give away too much and jeopardize history! But I miss simple things like washing my own dishes. I tried to, once. I snuck away from everyone, and went to the kitchen. But everyone in the kitchen was so flustered, and I started to think they might be offended if they knew what I really wanted to do. I made up something about wanting something to eat and just went back to my room. I have a feeling when I get home, I'll be taking everyone's turn at dishes for a month!

What a mess this letter has been. I know I'm not always eloquent, but I feel very scattered today. I'll try not to leave as much time between letters. We'll be busy preparing for war (another statement that makes me nauseous to write), so I may still have some gaps, but I won't stop myself out of fear. I need this too much, and in too many ways.

I miss you, and I love you. I live for the day I can see you again, no matter what happens after.

James stood just inside the doorway to the study, looking decidedly nervous. Ray beckoned to him, and he took a single hesitant step forward. Ray shook his head. "Come now, James, you don't have to be shy. Let's see."

James blushed and pulled a few sheets of paper out from where he'd been hiding them behind his back. "I... you... you will be kind, won't you, Your Grace?"

"Of course I will, James," Ray answered. "But you really don't need to worry. You did so well with the story of Constantine's repentance."

"But you told me what happened, Sire," he protested. "This is different, this is...."

"This is just you?" James nodded, glancing down at the papers, and biting his lip nervously. "Well, I still say you needn't worry," Ray said. "Come, let me see. Did you remember to use my middle name again?"

"Yes, Your Grace, I did."

"Good. Come on, let's see."

Reluctantly, James bought the sheaf of papers to Ray. "I continued just after King Constantine's repentance, Sire," he said. "That passage is still included, but you need not read it again."

"It was so well done, it will be a pleasure to read it again," Ray said, sitting down at the desk.

James let out a nervous little sigh, and Ray looked up at him. "May I leave the room, Sire?"

Ray smiled. "You can turn around, if you like."

"Turn my back to you, Your Grace?" he cried.

"I give you my permission." James shook his head, and Ray gave up. "All right, it makes you too uncomfortable, go ahead and wait outside the door. I'll call you when I finish."

James bowed and backed away. He put a hand on the door, but just as he turned to step out, he turned back. "I... I'll wait here, sir."

Ray smiled and shook his head. He set the papers down, and read the neat, careful hand.

King Carson did valiantly stryke down the enemy knight. Yet the High King could not rest, for in that same clearing, King Constantine fought another of the vile intruders. Constantine did fight fiercely, but he was bested by the enemy, and would have been slain but for King Carson. The High King did come to Constantine's aide with great haste, without regard for his prior threats.

When the enemy was slain, Constantine marveled that King Carson should have saved his life. The twain were alone in the clearing, and Constantine would then have posed no further threat. Yet the Goode King Carson replied, "You are a Knight of the Round Table, Constantine. You pledged your loyalty to Camelot. Yet, I have sworn loyalty to Camelot and all her people - thee included. No king would I be if I allowed one of my knights to die without trying to help. Even one who would fain have seen me killed."

Then did King Constantine regret his harsh words and deeds. He knelt before King Carson, and did swear fealty to him, declaring him the just and true King of Camelot. King Carson did accept his pledge without word of reproach for his former deeds. Thus the rift between King Constantine and the High King Carson was mended, and their friendship was at last rekindled.

King Carson's squire happened upon them, and did race to protect the high king from what he thought must be King Constantine making goode his threats. Yet did the High King put the lad at ease, and Constantine did make a deep apology to the squire he had nearly killed before. "Well do I know you have no reason to trust me, lad. You were quite within your rights at the banquet hall when you named me a liar and a cur. I have made apology to His Majesty, and would be glad if you would forgive me for my insolence, and for how I treated your master."

The squire was amazed to hear such an apology from a king, and further he was pleased to know that the Goode King Carson had naught more to fear from his former friend. "I will gladly forgive your actions, Sire, if you can forgive mine."

"Nay, lad. You were right to defend your master. There is naught for me to forgive."

Then King Carson and his squire did help the wounded Constantine to rejoin the other knights. The enemy knights had all been vanquished, and High King Carson left some of the men to bury the enemy, rather than allow their bodies to be ravaged by the beasts of the wood.

After the route of Prince Mordred's scouts, King Carson did call for a celebratory feast. All knights and courtiers at Camelot were in attendance. At the feast, King Constantine did stand before the entyre company and make apology to the High King for "slights known to but a few, and some only to His Majesty." He then did proclaim his allegiance to King Carson before the group. King Carson did graciously accept Constantine's pledge, and all the assembled company cheered to see the Round Table whole and united once again.

Three days after the banquet, the vile Mordred did come before the Round Table under the white banner. In the presence of the king's twelve most trusted knights, Mordred did declare himself rightful ruler of Camelot, by right of close kinship with Arthur Pendragon, and by right of vengeance for the unjust murder of his innocent knights.

King Constantine and Sir Tristan did draw their swords in fury at this, and Constantine did curse Mordred for a liar. "Your so-called knights struck first and unprovoked!" Constantine and Tristan would fain have struck Mordred downe, but the High King stayed their hands.

"Not under the flag of truce, my friends. We will meet him in open battle, and there we will defeat him." He turned his eye to Mordred. "Pride, and this foolish thirst for blood will be your downfall, Mordred. Will you not think on the dreadful cost of war and reconsider this course?"

But Mordred would not be swayed. "You are the fool if you think you can match me in open battle! Prepare yourself, false king! Very soon, you will face The Creator, and the throne will be in the hands of the rightful heir!"

With this, Mordred left the castle. King Carson beckoned to his knights and said, "So goes a doomed man. Yet he has doomed us also with the same stroke. For despite my efforts, we must now earnestly prepare for war."

Then, King Carson grew melancholy, and sat sullen at the great Table. The knights and servants spoke not, for they had never seen so dark a mood fall upon the Goode King.

Yet after some time spent silent, King Constantine spake. "My Lord King. I share your grief. And I am sure your faithful knights gathered here do also. We have known each other a spare few months, yet I like not what It see in your eyes, sir."

The High King turned a fierce eye to Constantine, and the lesser king bowed his head a moment. Yet he did not keep silent in spite of the King's dark mood. "Fall not into despair, My Liege," he said. "Mordred hath many men, 'tis true. Yet he has turned his back to what we have - the greatest fighting spirit ever to be known betwixt Heaven and Earth."

"And yet numbers may still drown us, in spite of our spirit."

The other knights and squires present did stare unashamed, shocked to hear the king speak so. Yet Constantine did not falter. "Your pardon, Majesty, but I cannot accept such nonsense from you."

The knights did start in shock, and King Carson rose to his feet. "How dare you? You, of all men here, would do well to govern how you speak to me, Constantine!"

King Constantine sank upon one knee, yet spake on, undaunted by the High King's ire. "I know it well, Your Majesty. Please believe me, I do not risk your anger lightly. Yet I must speak the truth to you. I shall gladly accept any punishment you mete out if that is your will, Your Grace. But I cannot believe this dour attitude from you. You, Sire? King Carson of the East? You, who I first saw in the East Forest, surrounded by eight fallen bandits? And these you bested armed with nothing more than a farmer's dagger and a cloak? You showed their captain mercy, and I hope you will show me the same for my defiance. But you, my lord, are the best example I have ever seen of what a fighting spirit can mean."

Then, the High King's ire melted, and he smiled. "Thank you, my friend. You have spoken well and with honor, and in truth, I was in need of the reminder."

"It was my pleasure, Sire." He drew his sword. "I made this pledge on the battlefield, but I say it again before my fellow knights. My sword - my life - my honor are yours. And when the time comes, I swear to you, sir. All that I have and all that I am, I will give for you, High King Raymond." So passionate was Constantine, and so moved was the High King that both men wept in that moment. Then, King Constantine did cry out to the other knights. "Brothers! Which of you will make the same vow?"

A resounding chorus rose from the knights - "AYE!" Each man present, both knights and squires, fell to one knee and those with blades drew them on the oath. King Carson watched them with deep gratitude.

"I am humbled," the king declared. "Humbled and honored by your devotion. And you, King Constantine. Your words mean more to me than you can ever know. I make you the same vow, my brother. And to all of you. All that I have, and all that I am, I will give - for you, and for Camelot. And may the Almighty be my witness! If Mordred dare attack this place, he will face a storm the like of which the world has never known!!"

The affirming cry rang out from all those present, and the King bid them rise and begin their council of war.

Ray held a hand to his mouth. Mordred's declaration of war had only been a few days ago, and the reminder of the emotional moment when Constantine had led the others in the renewal of their oath made Ray misty-eyed. He looked up at James, who stared at him with wide eyes.

"This is excellent, James."

James' face brightened and he grinned. "You really think so, Sire?"

"Absolutely." Ray clapped his hands, and James blushed and bowed. "You captured everything perfectly, and you have an excellent sense of where to add detail. And you have a wonderful memory of what was said. Magnificent work, James, I'm so proud of you!"

James' face flushed an even deeper red and he bowed again. "Thank you, You Grace. Thank you, sir!"

"I tell you truly, James, you will do Camelot a great service if you will tell our stories."

The young man nodded, still smiling his glowing smile. "If you really think they may be of use, then I will, Your Grace. I will write as many of our adventures as I can."

"Trust me," Ray said. "I'm sure people will enjoy them. And not just courtiers and possibly your children one day. I wouldn't be at all surprised if tales like this were told hundreds - maybe even a thousand years from now."

Ray wasn't sure if he should say such things, and if he might be causing some kind of unknown alteration to the timeline - but one look at the beaming smile on James' face, and Ray couldn't be bothered to care.