The Flower of King and Knights

Battle of Lord's Crossing

The two men turned to watch the lines of men march down into the greater field of the kingdom of Dore. Ector ordered the men to make camp and ready defensives. They sat at an elevated position, and with a forest to the right, provided supplies for stakes to protect their front. The path would be made for a quick escape, but Ector wished that this would be needed. As the Scottish force and their Welsh allies arrived, Ector’s force grew to the size of sixty thousand men at arms, cavalry, archers, crossbowmen, pikemen, and much to Ector’s shock, artillery men.

He called for a war council where they made plans for the great battle. Morgan would be leading the attack herself, and Mordred was given a small battalion of the enemy force, which surprised and gladdened the king. Merlin said to the council, “Morgan always thought of herself as invincible, and we will soon see her vanity become her undoing.”

The king said, “For what’s she done, I will personally see her head placed upon the highest pike, and I will burn her body until it is nothing more than ash and bitter memories.”

The army of Ector waited for the force of Mordred to arrive to the field. As the enemy force approached theirs, Ector’s men looked at into the vast enemy horde of giants, woverns, blemiyehs, yales, and with thousands of men clad in monsterous black armor. Many of the men in Ector’s force looked upon their foes with fear as slowly the enemy ranks moved towards their positions.

Ector positioned the crossbow men and placed the pikemen directly behind and intermittent with the missile men. The knights and horsemen were placed all along the army’s flanks and rear positions. The artillery was hidden throughout the ranks of the men.

Before the battle commenced, Morgan, Mordred and Ector met to discuss terms for surrender. Ector was silent as he heard Morgan’s demands. He mocked her words in his mind, the image of seeing her last moment prior to death kept his tongue silent and a smile on his face. As she finished, Ector caught the last few words that she spoke, “…relinquish your swords.”

He was caught off guard. “I’m sorry, come again.”

“Your swords, if you want to make peace, we demand that you relinquish your swords.”

Ector was silent, the nerve of this woman continued to astound him. “You want Caliburn and Excalibur?”

“Yes, we find this a reasonable demand.”

Ector gave no answer, he simply glared at the witch as she showed her nerve giving way. She turned to Mordred, still in his black armor. “Come, he as given his answer, we will have the swords by noon.” As they began to ride off, Ector called out.

“Morgan!” The two turned back to Ector again. “Traitor, thy death day hath come! You will have these blades as they strike you down and send you to hell.”

Morgan said to Mordred, “What a fool, he is a fool to try and take on our army.”

“He is a Pendragon,” said Mordred, “This is how we are.” He smiled as he watched Ector ride back to his army.

Ector reached back to his lines, Sir Lancelot rode up to met him. “What are your orders?”

“Send the crossbowmen to the front, and tell the pikemen to prepare to support them when the moment is given. Today is going to a red one.”

The pikemen lowered their blades as the missile troops formed into four men deep ranks. King Ector placed himself at the head of the center line. “All right men,” he called out to his troops, “Today is a day that has been long in waiting. Stay firm, hold your ground, and let not one man doubt your worth today!”

The men roared and awaited the enemy force to begin their assault. The first lines of the attack moved swiftly towards the English lines. The ground rumbled as the dark creatures screamed cries that made many on the other side tremble, but King Ector stayed firm to give his men bravery by example. “Crossbowmen, prepare to fire! Bowmen, ready your bows!” The soldiers took their aim.

“First line, loose!” The first row fired their shots into the enemy ranks, several beasts and men fell before the vast horde charging. “Second line fire!” The second row fired into the enemy, more fiends falling dead, tripping the ranks of the living. “Third line loose!” More and more they fell before the English force. “Bowmen, loose!”

The entire sky darkened as thousands of arrows filed the air. Many of the enemy stopped as they watched in horror the deadly rain coming towards them as the fourth line fired their rounds into the enemy. Now many of the lines were dead upon the field, some were trying to retreat back while others made a mad dash for the crossbowmen. Those who tried found a quick end by the end of the pike’s blade.

The second wave made their assault, much larger than the last one. Ector noted Morgan must’ve been testing his strength. They were hit by the lines of crossbowmen twice, and the bowmen rained heavily on the enemy, but this time they appeared to be closing on the crossbowmen. King Ector yelled, “All down! Fire the guns!”

Without hesitation, all the lines went down as they revealed four score cannons aimed at the enemy. “Fire the bastards!” roared the King as the cannons fired their rounds into the enemy. The shrapnel tore through the enemy ranks, the pike men, rising to their feet, engaged the enemy ranks and slaughtered all without stopping. The infantry began to move forward. Their king at the front, Excalibur and Caliburn unsheathed and shining in their glory.  “Come on Morgan, you want these blades. Come and get them!”

The infantry hacked into the ranks of Morgan’s men, the creatures showed valor as the giant Grendel smashed one giant foe after another with the mace of St. Michael. He pushed the legions of Pendragon forward, “Let the right triumph, the fates are with us!”

Morgan looked as her men melted away beneath the enemy’s feet. The glowing white and red lights of Excalibur and Caliburn grew stronger with each foe fell. They were coming closer to her. For the first time in years, she felt icy chill of fear run down her spine.

She turned to order Mordred into the battle, only to find the he and the reserves of the army had begun their retreat. A scream brought her back into the battle, soldiers were being set ablaze by the banner of the Pendragon, held by the bastard knight Ulrich. She didn’t know what to do. Men came for their orders, some were begging others screaming, but she said nothing.

“Forward, all men forward,” she said finally.

“My lady, our men are running from the field. They’re not even looking to a fighting retreat!”

“I don’t care. Get them to move forward!”

The soldier looked at the her with doubt as he turned back to the battle. Morgan’s eyes glowed as she saw the whoreson knave getting closer to her. Ector spotted her by her banners.

“Cee, get ready.”

“For what?”

“She’s about to cast a spell see if you deflect it.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. Just do it!” Ector spurred the horse towards the queen of Dore and prepared to strike with Caliburn.

Morgan raised a wall of fire before her, burning men and creatures from both sides of the battle. But to her dismay, Ector and his steed broke through the wall of fire and he rushed to her once more. The glow from the red sword grew to a great fire as it struck the queen’s head from her body. Immediately the wall died and within moments, the men from her army were either killed or cried for mercy.

Ector’s blood was boiling, he wanted them to die for what they did. He dismounted his horse and grabbed a fallen pike and walked to where Morgan’s body laid. As he picked up the flashes of images rushed through his mind. He stopped for a moment, while Sir Culwech approached the king. “My lord, is everything all right?”

“…Yes. Everything is fine.”

“What are your orders for the prisoners?”

“Placed them somewhere of the field and keep them under guard.”

“And shall we be piking Morgan’s head my king?”

“No, get me a shovel…and a priest.”

“…My King?”

“Please, it’s more for me as it is for her.”