The Flower of King and Knights

The Duel of Destiny

Ector stood upon the parapet of Camelot looking down at the army Mordred’s lined along the northern walls. Sir Kay and Merlin walked up with Sir Grendel and Sir Launcelot following closely behind.

“He wants to parley,” the mage said.

“To hell with diplomacy,” said Sir Kay, “We have enough men and supplies to last a lifetime against his assaults.”

“I have to agree with the knight my king,” said Sir Grendel. “We have plenty of fresh provisions, and any assault carried by him will most assuredly be met with disaster.”

Ector was silent for a moment. He turned to Merlin, “Should I?”

Merlin said fatherly, “I cannot tell you how the fight will end. But win or lose, you will be made a legend for its outcome.”

Ector called for his helm, and checked the swords on his belt before walking towards the stairs. “Where are you going?” asked Sir Launcelot.

“Destiny awaits me. And I cannot keep it waiting.”

“But he has the spear’s strength and the chalice’s power. You’ll be killed,” said Sir Launcelot.

“You forget my friend. I have the armor of the Fae, the blessings of the triturative religions of God, and the blades of my father. I have the best chance of killing Mordred than anyone.”

“Then go with God,” said Sir Kay solemnly. His voice broke with emotion as the mage leaned in to whisper in his ear. Ector could not make out the words, but it seemed to give the knight hope.

Ector dress himself in his armor, mounted his steed and with a small retinue journeyed a hundred yards before Mordred’s force. Mordred was at the front with the holy spear in hand. “So I see you came out to finally meet me brother.”

King Ector spoke boldly. “I came to confront a demon of my nightmares.”

“Well then, what do you propose. A full bloody melee?”

“No. I’d rather settle this in the ancient ways. Your best against mine.”

Mordred paused to think. “I can oblige with that. Who do you want to fight in your place?”

Ector dismounted and unsheathed both blades. “I fight my own battles.”

Mordred smiled. “So do I.”

Both men approached the other, aimed their weapons, and charged. Their weapons sung as they slashed the air. As their blades touched the spirits embedded screamed with each contact. The hate and wrath the two men had was at its zenith. Both men made terrible blows. And had it not been for their enchantments and were they lesser men, both would’ve died from their wounds.

Mordred came to disarm Caliburn from Ector, who heard Cecilia scream in fear. Ector used Mordred’s shock of Cecilia’s presence to use Excalibur to break the staff of the holy spear. The strike caused a burst of energy that knocked Excalibur from Ector’s hands. Mordred used the remaining shaft and blade as a knife.

Ector waited for Mordred to thrust the blade, deflected the attack with his hand. Remembering Kay’s lessons on knife fighting, Ector disarmed Mordred and relying on pure instinct, placed the spear deep into Mordred’s side. The bastard prince staggered back as he looked in horror to the wound.

Looking at Ector, he barely said, “Son of a…” before he exploded into a flash of bright light. The light peeled off into a million strands and flew through the sky without aim. Suddenly the light found a common direction and flew towards the castle and dissipated into thin air.

The knight came to King Ector and made sure he was all right. “That wasn’t a fun experience I can say that for certain.” The king said jokingly. The army of Mordred, disheartened by the loss of their leader broke off into the woods without much noise or trouble. At Camelot, the people celebrated the end of the threat of Mordred’s army.

Ector himself felt a growing sense of pride and joy from this accomplishment. He had conquered his two greatest foes. There were still many kingdoms and fiefdoms that challenged him, but the two who posed the greatest risks were dead. The table of filled with loyal knights. The southern and western shores were his domain. He had won.

As they celebrated, some noticed a weird noise coming from underneath the floor of the castle. It consisted of metallic clanging and muffled yelling that caused everyone to look at each other in confusion.

“What on earth is making that noise?” asked King Ector.

Sir Culwech answered first. “I know not, my liege. But it sounds as if it is coming from underneath the dungeons of the castle.”

“It might even be in the deeper catacombs of the fortress,” followed Sir Llewiquin.

King Ector replied, “Why do I think we’re about to go into a cavern again?”

The king and his knights journeyed into the catacombs to find a large metal door locking in the cause of the noise. The men wondered how to open the door as Ector unsheathed Caliburn and cut through the lock that held the door shut.

“So much for the subtle approach,” said Sir Bedivere.

Opening the doors, the knights saw hundreds of armored men beating upon each other without a care for their own safety. King Ector saw two knights grabbing one man by his hands and feet and flinging him into another knight. At another spot in the room, he saw one man onto of another’s shoulders as he pounded onto the man’s head.

Ector looked at Caliburn. “Cee get these men to stop.”

Cecilia came out, looked at the men pummeling each other. “Who wants to see me naked?”

The men immediately stopped and turned to Cecilia. Ector looked at her. “What? You said to get them to stop,” she said.

Ector sheathed the blade and turned to the men. “What the hell is going on in here?”

One of the knights went forward. “Who are you to speak to us knights in such a crude manner? And why are you wearing the armor and swords of our lord, King Arthur?”

“I’m Ector Pendragon, his son and heir. Who the hell are you?”

The knight then spoke in a humbled tone. “I’m Sir Lucan…Bedivere, is that you?”

Sir Bedivere rushed to his brother and the two men embraced each other. Ector turned to the knight on the other’s shoulders. “Who are you two?”

The knight on top spoke. “I’m Sir Gawain and this is Sir Lamorak.”

“Why are you on his shoulders and hitting him?”

“His father killed mine.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Never mind. You men in the back, who are you?”

Several knights in the back of the room turned as one replied. “I’m Sir Tristan, this is Sir Percival, that’s Sir Dynadan, there’s Sir Gareth, Sir Marhaus and the little one at the end is Sir Galahad.”

Ector was stunned. “…Aren’t you men supposed to be dead?”

“Well that was a little rude,” said Sir Lamorak.

“Oh be quiet, you were stabbed in the back,” said Sir Gawain as he hit Sir Lamorak on the head. The knight then threw Sir Gawain off his shoulder and walked towards the king. “I can attest to many of these men dying. But I cannot explain how we wound up here, my lord, or why we have become alive again.”

Ector paused for a moment. “Merlin! Where are you?”

The mage appeared behind King Ector startling him. “You rang?”

“What’s with this?” the king asked, pointing to the knights.

The mage rapidly tapped Ector on the shoulder. “Oh right, we need to have a talk.”

Ector looked at Merlin blankly. “Ah crap.”