The Flower of King and Knights

The King's Wrath

As the month of May began, Ector under Merlin’s advise held a tournament at the Castle of St. Michael. Hundreds of knights gathered throughout the land, even from across the sea to partake in the first tournament of the King’s reign. King Ector watched in awe to the number of armed men marching to the castle.

He turned to Sir Blamor standing next to him, “Um, should I be a little concerned at having this many armed men in one spot? Men who I think aren’t my biggest supporters? Especially when Mordy is here too?”

“No my liege, by law and code of honor they are fight only within the areas of jousting and melee, outside they are bound to restrain from combat.”

“And are they forbidden to plot and conspire?”

“Hmm, didn’t think about that.”

“Oh sweet mother of God!”

A voice spoke to Ector, “Be at peace my king, your best ally has arrived. Few dare to speak evil when he is present.” It was Merlin holding a long ancient and elegant staff.

“Who is that, dare I ask?”

“Ector you horrid bastard!” It was Gorm’s voice.

Ector turned delighted to see the Viking lord with his retinue. “Gorm, you…sorry I can’t think of a decent insult! I didn’t think you’d be up for this type of…sporting.”

“I’m not, in fact most of us despise the whole jousting sport. But we can’t get enough of the melee ring,” the Viking turns to his men, “Can we boys?”

The men gave a lackluster roar. “Calm down men, you’ll embarrass me,” Gorm turned back to Ector, “Well are you going to let us in, our do we have to scale the walls?”

“Do I want to see what would happen if you do that?”

“The Frisians learned that lesson the hard way when we came there.”

Ector quickly gave the order to let the Danes enter. The king greeted his friends in the courtyard, the two men embracing as they met. Gorm seemed to be a whole different person when off the battlefield. A woman followed closely behind him, she had short brown hair, jeweled blue eyes, and cheery voice that had an English accent to it, something that threw Ector off. “Gorm, are you going to introduce us, or do I have to do it myself,” she said lovingly.

“Yes my dear. Ector, this is my wife Thyra, she is the daughter of Lord of Wight, which is why she doesn’t sound like a burly man, like me.”

“Oh don’t be so modest you rancid cur,” said Thyra.

“Love you too my dearest love,” said Gorm as he kissed her cheek delicately.

Ector bowed graciously, “So this is the young lady I’ve heard so much about? Your beauty is done injustice by words of court alone.”

“I am very honored by such compliments my king. Few men like you would see a woman like me in such kind light.”

“I come a land where initiative and drive is a trait that should be shown by all. Though many men and women I knew seemed to surrender such drives for entitlement and sustaining the moral ego.”

A man from Gorm’s rentinue spoke. “These sound like weaklings and unworthy of being used for manure.”

“My good thane, you have no idea how true that is,” replied the English King.

Gorm spoke with cheer, “With that acknowledged, let me introduce you to my personal company. You’ve probably seen them at the battle we at along the Kent shore, but you may not have known who they are.” Gorm walked up to two men, one holding a large pole axe and another with two long claymores. “This one here with the pole axe is Gulbrand, he’s the head of my personal guard and my most trusted military advisor, and my closest friend. This here is Kristen his brother. Both were to be monks when the Saxons invaded our homelands, we say that the Lord had other plans for their celestial talents.”