Reclaiming England. (Nano Novel 2016)

Epilouge

       

Once, many years ago, there was a great king. He was know as Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King. There have been many myths about this great man; many retellings and different stories.

Once, a young boy stood in front of a large churchyard, and pulled a sword from a stone. He didn't know it at the time, but he was to be the greatest earthly king that ever lived – a king whose story would be told for thousands of years.

Once, a young king stood before a large Round Table, standing with his knight. They were the greatest knights the world had ever known – and ever will know. Arthur's knights were the best in the world; they were kind, chivalrous, brave and loyal.

Once, a great kingdom stood, ruled by a great king. There were many quests, many knights, many adventures. The people were happy, the land peaceful. It was a golden age, an age that would last for many, many years. Once, there was a great wizard. Merlin – the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth. He was loyal and true, and without him, Arthur would never have become king.

Once, there was secret affair. Lancelot and Guinevere, Arthur's close friend and queen, loving each other in secret. They never meant to hurt anyone, but because of their betrayal, the golden age of Arthur's rule came to an end.

Once, there was a plotting son. Morderd – Arthur's bastard son. The young knight betrayed his father, taking over the throne and fighting in a bloody battle when Arthur came to reclaim it.

Once, there was a lake, a boat and a group of women. Arthur was dying, and Arthur needed to be taken to a place to heal.

Once, there was a promise. Arthur will return. Arthur will come back when he is needed most. Arthur is coming. Do not fear.

Once, there was a great king. 

The Tor was all but empty – most people were at home, celebrating their freedom. Besides, the early spring morning wasn't very appealing for most people. Two figures moved up the hill, one clasping a large bundle. The first was a male; his ginger hair refusing to sit flat. The second was a female; her dark hands clasping the bundle she held. The bundle looked surprisingly like a sword, wrapping in old newspaper.

"Here we are again," Maria said as they crested the hill. "Here we are," Callum agreed. Lowering the sword, Maria rubbed her shoulder, wincing slightly.

"They sting a bit, don't they?" she asked, and he grinned, running his hand along his tattoo. "It's worth it though," he said.

Maria could clearly see his new tattoo, on the back of his left shoulder. The skin was still red around it – it had only been applied that morning.

Maria had drawn the design herself, though they had both agreed on it. A small emu, dressed in battle armour and sitting comfortably, looking back at the cat resting on its back.

"One more thing left to do then," Maria said, touching the tender skin around her tattoo once more.

She unfolded the paper from around the sword, standing on it so they didn't fly away in the wind.

"Seems kinda pointless, throwing it at a grassy meadow," Callum muttered.

 
"I told you – Arthur asked me to do this," Maria said. "It seemed pointless coming here in the first place, when he was with us."

'Lance and Katrina were there as well,' she thought, the ache in her heart growing as it did every time she thought of her friends.

When the battle was over, the mansion seemed very empty. The soldiers had fled, and Arthur's men had vanished back to where they had come from.

Arthur had found Maria and Callum, still standing over Katrina's body. They had buried her not far away, leaving the mansion for the last time.

The news began spreading, and already cars were arrive to see if it were really true – if Kingsly had really ended his rule.

Maria, Callum and Arthur had left by then, returning to the small cottage.

"You will be returning home then?" Arthur asked, and they had both nodded.

"As soon as we can," Callum said. Maria nodded, watching as a plum of smoke came from over the hill. Someone had set fire to the mansion. It seemed fitting really.

"What about you?" she asked, turning back to Arthur. He had smiled, drawing his sword once more.

"I shall finally have rest," he said.

"You're leaving?" Callum asked.

He had nodded, and Maria could see the joy he felt.

"This is not my time – I do not belong here. And I am tried, very tried. I want to rest now." He had paused, sadness suddenly clouding the joy he felt. "I know what it is like to lose a friend. And I am sorry you have had to lose someone at such a young age. The pain will never truly leave, but it will fade. You will survive."

"Thank you," Maria had said. And she meant it, with every fibre of her being. Without Arthur, they would never have ended the war.

"I did my duty," Arthur said, handing her his sword.

She had hesitated, but he pressed it, and finally she took it.

"On one side of the blade, it says Take me up, and on the other, Throw me away," Arthur said. "Once you have returned to England, throw it back where it belongs – return it to the lake. Perhaps someone else will have need of it."

"I will," Maria had said. Arthur smiled, turning his gaze skyward. Two figures suddenly appeared beside him – both female.

They both looked about Arthur age, but one looked very similar to him. He smiled, turning to them.

"Arthur, my boy," the one who looked similar to him said, holding out her hands.

"Arthur," the other said, tears forming in her eyes.

"Mother. Guinevere," Arthur had muttered, holding out his hands. They each took once, and he had turned back to Callum and Maria briefly. "Farewell, my friends. God bless"

"Goodbye," Maria and Callum said, and a white light had enveloped Arthur, expanding until he was gone.

Now they stood on the top of the hill, over looking the grassy meadow that was once a lake.

Maria drew back her arm, Excalibur slightly too large for her hand, and let go. The sword flashed through the air, glinting in the sunlight. It followed a high arch, before beginning to follow gravity, falling towards the grass.

Just before it landed, a small pond appeared, and a hand reached out – catching the sword. It was almost to small to see, but Maria could see the flash of light as the sword was waved. And then it vanished, back under water to where it belonged.

"Well," Callum said, and Maria nodded. It was all that needed to be said, really.

Two figures were making their way towards them, waving. Maria squinted slightly, recognising them as Mark and Danielle. A tiny smile covered her face, and she waved back.

"Come on," she said. "We should celebrate. It is your birthday, is it not?"

Callum grinned, slapping her on the back.

 

"Aye," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Come on!" He shot into a run, bounding down the hill towards his friends. Maria followed, picking up speed as she did.

The pain was still there – it would always be there. But Arthur was right – it would fade. And maybe – just maybe – she could make new friends.

They were, after all, free.

Once, there was a great king. A king who ruled justly and rightly, a king whose story was told for thousands of years. A king who was loved by all, and hated by few. A king who came when he was needed, a king who freed the land from oppression. A great king called Arthur.