The Mask of King Arthur, Book I: Haern Cleddyf

Chapter one: Beginnings

Prolouge;

It is the fifth century. The Roman Empire, once the great protector of the western world, is a dying beast on its last legs. When the last of the legions having left the island decades earlier, the inhabitants of the province of Britannia have been left to fend for themselves. Angered over their abandonment, the native Romanized British have expelled the last of the Roman magistrates and officials from the island. The chiefs of the British clans, formerly loyal to Rome have all declared themselves kings, carving the Roman province of Britannia into several small kingdoms that covered the island south of Hadrian's wall.

The regional kings, desperate for leadership with the Roman governors gone, return to the ancient custom of electing a High King to rule the island. Their first ruler, Coel Hen (King Cole) turned out to be quite the merry old soul, ruling with wisdom and justice. Under the protection of the ninth legion of the Roman army- called the Pendragon warriors by the local Britons, due to their red dragon banner- the island was kept safe from any outside invaders. Out of all the Roman legions, the Pendragons alone had remained behind when the other legions left, and they helped old King Cole's government keep order.

But the tragic day came when King Cole died of old age. The people barely had time to mourn before a usurper, Prince Vortigern, was chosen as the next High King of Britannia. Vortigern turned out to be a cruel and despotic ruler, hated by all of his subjects. The tyrant gorged himself on his luxury and wealth, while his subjects suffered under the heavy yoke of oppression and crushing taxes. Having no need of the brave men of the Pendragon warriors, he dismissed the proud legionaries back to civilian life, and they returned into their countryside villas and estates.

And it came to pass, that the Picts and Irish took advantage of the Roman withdrawal, launching raids and attacks on the near-defenseless Britons. Out of utter desperation, Vortigern hired a group of mercenaries to protect the people; an assemblage of brutish thugs from the tribes of northern Germania- the vicious and brutal Jutes. But these ruffians soon got out of Vortigern's control, and began preying upon the very people they were brought in to protect.

There were those among the Romano-Britsh nobility, however, who opposed the tyrant. In the village called Tintagel, at the far western tip of the Cornish peninsula, the last remaining Roman family of note still carries on life as they always had. A wealthy customs official, called Emrys Wledig by the local population, is well known for his hatred of the tyrant and his barbaric horde. But the tyrant will not long stand for any who would dare oppose him. Meanwhile, the aging Pendragon warriors were hatching a plan to retake control of their island, and to get rid of Vortigern and the Jutes at the same time.

Meanwhile, far away from the chaos and unrest of warriors and kings, stood a peaceful port town on Britannia's far western coast. There, a young boy played among the meadows of his youth, unconcerned with the violence and darkness of war...

Chapter one: Beginnings

Dandelions... he always loved coming out into the open fields in the summer, romping and jumping around, and sending their little seedlings flying. In those small and delicate pods, he saw the tiny fragility of life take flight, looking for a better future elsewhere after being violently thrust from the place of their origin. Even though he was already eight years old, even the little things such as this seemed to amaze him far more than the greatest wonders this world has had to offer.

"Ambrosius!" A middle-aged woman's voice called out to the brown-haired youth, urging him to come inside. "Ambrosius, it's time for supper!"

Looking out across the rocky soil, Ambrosius's soft brown eyes spotted the woman with the gentle voice. His mother Eygir, gazing upon him with he golden hair and shimmering blue eyes, the face that he had known since he had first looked up from his cradle. She had brought him up here in this misty and cold place, where the sea rushes up to crash against the shore. Running towards his mother's arms, he embraced her, before they both entered the large stone house.