100A/N: 2010 has been a very productive year for me so far, as I'm sure my readers will agree. This is a pretty long chapter and I hope you guys will enjoy it. Mordred gets a chance to bond with his brothers.
Warnings: The usual. Nothing new or too bad. Please let me know if the names of all of the characters are confusing, or if you have trouble keeping track. I'll make a character guide later for your convenience, I swear. I just want to get a little further.
Chapter Four: Journey
The journey from Bryn-Rhyd-Yr-Arian to Orkney took two days and a night on horseback. From there, we would reach the coast, I was told, and would have to board a vessel that would take us to the small kingdom by sea.
I was nervous about all of this. Because my mother had been so protective of me, I'd never before left our village; not even to buy supplies from nearby towns, which the other boys had been privy to and had taken advantage of often.
I'd also never ridden a horse for an extended period of time, and certainly not war stallions, like the ones my brothers were currently perusing quite comfortably. I'd once found the scenic surroundings of the Welsh mountains beautiful, with their ice-caps, dewy grass and the crisp smell of mountain air, but it only added to my misery now.
We were now almost a ten hour's ride away from Bryn-Rhyd-Yr-Arian and the pain of the trip was beginning to set in. Everything from my lower back to the ends of my feet ached, forcing me to wince every passing while, especially when the horse's hooves slipped on the rough, rocky terrain.
Noticing my discomfort, Agravaine slowed his steed to a trot beside mine, giving me a half-worried, half-amused look. "Are you uncomfortable?" he asked, quirking a fiery brow. I growled before I could stop myself at the stupid question, but was able to rein in the sarcastic retort that was on the tip of my tongue. Instead, very stiffly, I nodded. He made a humming sound and looked up at the reddening sky. "Then I suppose we shall have to set camp for the night, as soon as we find an apt clearing for the task."
I gave him a horror-struck look. "You mean there was no plan to do just that, when we initially set off?"
He laughed again. "No, there was not." Once again he appraised my posture and said, somewhat dryly, "But no one could know you were this inexperienced in horsemanship. It's unheard of in a prince. We had thought we'd be able to shorten our ride by half, at the very least."
I stiffened again, this time for an entirely different reason, and coolly replied, "Forgive me of being unaware of my heritage. I apologize for not being all-knowing."
He stared at me with blank emerald eyes for a minute, then two, before he burst out laughing, one hand tightly holding his horse's reins so as not to accidentally release the creature. I sniffed, feeling slightly insulted.
"I'm sorry, little Prince," he apologized, when his chuckles died down. "I did not mean for you to take it as an affront to your character. No, I just thought that I should teach you to ride properly, once we reach Orkney and Lothian."
I gave him a suspicious glance, and while he was still smiling, he didn't seem to be mocking me, so I took his words to heart. Offering my own smile, I said, "I thank you, then. I have sorely misjudged you." He accepted my explanation with a graceful inclination of his crimson head. A comfortable silence, filled with only the clatter of hooves, followed for some time. Since I'd never ventured even this far, I took in our surroundings interestedly, noting our proximity to the mountains, the sparse trees that grew thicker farther back or deeper in, and the changing sky that hovered over us, going from morning white to baby blue before settling on the near pink of twilight. I did this for an hour. Finally, I asked, "When will we arrive at the campground, as promised?"
Agravaine gave me another amused glance. "Not for a couple of hours yet, little one…"
My groan echoed throughout the mountains.
When we eventually did stop to rest, my relief was evident, as I was already dead-weight on my horse and slid right off it upon halting. Agravaine's muscular arm clasped me about my hips, preventing me from falling face-first into the hard, dirt-packed ground.
He chuckled, and the sound drew the attention of the rest of the convoy, who watched my dizzy movement to a small, flat-topped boulder, where I gratefully sat, lowering my aching head into my hands. Gawain only shook his head, snorting at my lack of poise, but Gareth asked me, "First ride?" gently.
I stared at him almost uncomprehendingly for a second, which made him fidget from foot to foot, before I nodded, matching his shy smile with my own. It was the first time since my battle with his twin that he'd talked to me. Despite not wanting them, they were my brothers, and I did not want to estrange myself from them. I had a small hope that we might even be close someday.
"I'm sorry," I told Gareth, running a hand through my sweat-matted, unruly hair, "I am just so…tired. I cannot even think."
He shot me a sympathetic look and fiddled with his pack, bringing out a wineskin, which he promptly handed to me. "This will help," he promised. I noticed his twin sneering at me from over his shoulder, but I accepted with just a small sigh, which Gareth hopefully took to be that of relief rather than annoyance. Gaheris was one brother I wasn't sure I could ever bond with. We were just too dissimilar.
That worry and others washed away when I took a swallow of the cask's contents. Cool, brisk water slid down my parched throat, and I greedily gulped it down, almost to the point of choking. Finally, when I'd downed at least half of the rejuvenating liquid, I pulled back to find Gareth watching me, his cerulean eyes wide. Sheepishly, with a blush as dark as Gawain's hair, I returned his flask to him, wiping my mouth against the sleeve of my tunic.
"Thank you," I demurely whispered, and he nodded, tucking the wineskin back into his pack.
"Feeling better?" an uncaring voice asked, and I turned to find Queen Morgause, exiting the carriage she'd thus been hiding in. She was attired in a long gown, one that lacked the flaring waist of the others she'd worn in my presence, likely because of the difficult ride. It was a soft blue color, though, like the sky on a cloudless day, and it appeared to be tailored solely for her, as she looked quite fetching in it. Despite her pretty visage, her verdant eyes, directed towards me, were needles pinning the wings on a butterfly. I gave her an almost fearful nod, wondering at her response. "Good," she intoned, before baring her teeth. "For the gods know we would have reached Orkney faster, had it not been for your childish simpering."
Her sons and entourage, even Gaheris, looked distinctly uncomfortable, and I was sure that my expression, whatever it was, seemed triply so.
"Mother," Gawain began, his blue eyes flashing between her and myself, "it was the boy's first ride. You cannot possibly expect—"
"Hush, Gawain!" the woman commanded, cutting him off with a sweep of her hand. She said no more, thankfully, and just whipped back to where a few of her soldiers were setting up a luxurious camp for her.
Silence reigned upon her exit, everyone's gazes locked to me. My mouth quivered sadly, having not been treated like this before, even in the village where I'd been an exile, before I angrily met each of their eyes, determination shining in my own. Forcing my voice to be clipped and almost mocking, I jested, "Duw, perhaps if I spent my days lounging in the carriage, I'd be no worse for wear, either."
After a second, each man smiled, though Gaheris immediately huffed to cover his up, sticking his nose in the air snootily. The incident was quickly forgotten as they all went to finish their individual duties, Gawain barking orders, men rushing to fulfill them, and the twins helping where they could. The horses, under the watchful eye of their caretakers, grazed on the wiry grass that peeked through cracks in the stone. Agravaine sat beside me, stoking the campfire, which was left to him to mind. I gave him a feeble look, unable to keep up with the pretense of confidence any longer, but he only smiled reassuringly.
"You did well, little one," he declared, handing me some of his rations, which I merely nibbled on, all semblance of appetite lost. Once I was done, he promised, "Sleep. I shall take care of the rest."
I did as told.
The night before we reached the port, where we'd take a ship to Orkney, I had a dream.
This was strange because, while my darkest hours had been restless since Queen Morgause had arrived in Bryn-Rhyd-Yr-Arian, the dream was almost vicious in its realism, and shook me up rather badly. It was almost a premonition.
I was swimming in a lake, but like a fish or a merman, I breathed under the cool surface with nary a problem. When I fearfully searched myself over, looking for scales or a tail, something that bespoke inhuman qualities, I found nothing.
'Swim!' a voice in my head commanded. 'Find me!'
Like the shepherding hounds of my village, I did just that, feeling a tugging somewhere within me that told me whenever I was close — to what, I had no idea. I found her at the end of my quest.
She was beautiful and certainly not a mortal woman. Her hair, pale as snow, flew about her like the wings of a bird. Her gown was nothing fanciful; rather, it wasn't much more than a white sheet wrapped around her pale body, but seeing it on her made my breath catch like it had never done before. Her face was ageless, appearing young, but with a wisdom that belied time. Only her eyes and her lips, which were bow-shaped and pink, were not of a colorless shade. Her watchful orbs were gold like treasured coins. They had a deep, harrying sadness within them.
'You found me,' she said, clutching her long-fingered hands before her chest, almost in a prayer.
"I did," I replied, feeling overjoyed at this fact.
She gifted me with a sad smile and swept one hand to the side, pointing at something in the distant water. I squinted to see it clearly and found that it was a glinting piece of metal. It seemed to be a sword, I thought, having become rather familiar with them of late, what with my knight and squire brothers. As if reading my mind, she nodded.
'Yes, a sword,' the hushed, beautiful voice informed me. Her eyes were wide and somber, yet somehow innocent. 'One that is rightfully yours.'
She directed me towards it and my heart pounded upon seeing its beauty. The woman was like the sword personified, so similar in aura and coloring. The blade was crystalline, though melded with metal, and the hilt was inlaid with ivory and gold. I reached out a hand to touch it, but found that some sort of invisible barrier prevented me.
I heard a keening whine and looked around, before realizing with slight horror that the sound was mine. When I turned toward the woman, I discovered that she had disappeared. The last I heard from her, once again but a voice in my head, was, 'To claim your birthright, you must shed your own blood…'
It sounded like an omen.
The next morning, I'd all but forgotten about the dream, left with only traces of it, because of the hurry to arrive at the docks.
What I did recall of it flew out of my mind as soon as I laid eyes on the vessel. It was huge, bigger than any fishing dinghy I'd ever seen, with many sailors manning it, as I could see from my vantage point. They were doing a multitude of tasks — some reeling it their catch of fish, others cleaning the wooden craft, and still more preparing to pull in the anchor. All of that, added to the impossible largeness of the ocean beneath, spreading on and on forever, was truly a sight to behold. It was monstrous.
"It's a beauty, isn't it?" Agravaine asked, mistaking my shaken expression for that of amazed wonder. I swallowed dryly, trying to calm myself, and tightened my pale knuckles around my horse's reins, which my sweaty grip had almost released. I only nodded at my older brother, not trusting myself to speak.
My quaking became worse when I learned that we actually had to lead our steeds across a small, rickety bridge of planks to reach the boat. "Did you think we'd leave them behind?" my astounded brother asked, and I shook my head. I supposed that wouldn't make any sense.
Taking a shaky breath, I did as I was bid, gently luring the horse onto the deck of the ship. A servant, wearing woolen pants and a fur-lined shirt, took over from there, directing all of the creatures to the vessel's inner stable.
Mostly, we had to stay out of the way as the crew worked, so I wandered over to the edge of the craft, which was thankfully barred for protection. I didn't think I could keep my balance otherwise. With the railing in place, however, I was safe for the moment, so I took the opportunity to observe the lapping waves.
As mentioned, I'd never before left the safety of my home village, so I'd never seen the ocean. The feelings I had now were hard to describe. I'd never before thought something like it could exist.
Now, I suddenly realized just why all the other boys at home were so eager to leave Bryn-Rhyd-Yr-Arian, to view the world. I, alone, had been amongst the few who'd have lived content in our home, without wondering about the adventure the outside world was sure to provide, till my last breath was stolen.
Obviously, I loved hearing tales of High King Arthur, and his brave knights of the Round, along with those of his crafty, manipulative Wizard, with powers no other mortal being could claim. I loved sitting at the bar when sailors and mercenaries passed through the village, to hear the latest gossip from them.
But, unlike Terry and the other youths in the village, mine was purely an objective, scholarly interest, with no pressing urge to live the tales that were told. Now I wondered if, like Terry had said, this was all a good thing, a chance to learn and live anew. Would someone, someday tell stories about Sir Mordred?
I bit my lip and felt someone come up behind me, the creaking planks giving them away. "What is the matter, Mordred?" the owner of the steps, Gareth, asked. He was obviously feeling more comfortable around me, which was all well and good, for I was feeling anything but comfort.
I sighed, deciding not to hide the truth from him, though I couldn't hold back a blush, either. "Would you mock me if I said I was afraid, Gareth?" I chuckled bitterly. "I am ignorant of the world, and I do not feel safe now that I've ventured out of my haven, my home."
His expression was soft when he said, "No one would mock you, brother. Everyone is afraid when they first leave home, even us…" He hesitated, biting his lower lip in a habit I knew I shared. "I hope that you can find living with us, wherever we may be, a sound new home. We will keep you safe; it is our responsibility as older siblings." He looked to where Gawain and Agravaine stood, sharing words with the captain, Gaheris at their heels like an eager puppy. "It may not seem like it with the way he acts, but Gaheris and I are overjoyed at the prospect of being older brothers. We've been but the babies up until now, you know?" His eyes glowed with delight.
He truly did seem happy, though I couldn't be sure about his twin, so I smiled and nodded at him, deciding to take him for his word. "I guess it does sound a bit fun."
"More than a bit," he agreed, pressing his elbows against the railing and staring out at the sea. I noticed his eyes matched the shade of the ocean exactly. He was a very attractive young man, all of my brothers were. I matched his position and stared out, too.
"Will we dock at Orkney soon?" I asked after a while, the back and forth motions of the ship making me quite ill.
He took in my greenish face and gave a grin. "Not too long, I promise."
By the time one of the sailors shouted, "Land, ho!" I was very sick of the boat. My cabin was nice enough, not much of a far-cry from my chambers back at home, and the sea air was fresh, but the sway of it always made me feel wobbly on my feet. More often than not, I spent the time aboard it either hanging off the side of the ship or into a bucket.
Apparently, this was nothing to be embarrassed over, since a good multitude of even the crew felt the same, but I never did like sharing any weaknesses, especially not ones I hadn't even been previously aware of.
My brothers had a jolly good time jesting about it, though when I grumbled about it, Agravaine would only scuffle my hair and say, "It's naught but brotherly teasing, little Prince. Surely you can handle that?"
My mood only darkened whenever he said this, but I remained silent. Words couldn't describe my relief, anyway, when I first viewed the isle of Orkney. "Not much to be in awe of," I heard someone, one of Morgause's guards, say. "The kingdom's composed of stone, wind and sand."
But to me it was amazing. Having grown up deep within the Welsh mountain-range, the cold didn't really bother me — if anything, it was rather temperate in Orkney compared to what I was used to there. Being a village boy did make it quite easy to make a staggering first impression, though, since I wasn't familiar with much extravagance, and the king's stone palace in the distance stole my breath away. It was high atop a grassy hill, far taller than that my home in Wales had rested on, and if I squinted, I could see the smattering of peasants' homes and shops below it.
"Welcome to Orkney, Mordred," Agravaine murmured in his deep, cheerful baritone. I turned to find the entirety of the new family I'd so recently met — Gawain and Agravaine, the twins, and Morgause a little far off — observing me. I must have looked a bit wild-eyed, for the majority of them had wary, soothing smiles on their faces, like one would wear when near an injured animal.
I tried to return a smile, but couldn't quite manage, grimacing instead. Now that we were so close to landing, I realized that one of my childhood dreams was about to come true: I was about to meet my father. But what if he despised me, as I'd always feared? What could I possibly do then?
I took a deep breath of the fresh sea air and steeled myself. Whatever would happen, I would not let it overcome me! It was, after all, my new home.
A/N: The following few chapters will take place in Orkney — which won't at all be what poor Mordred expects. I'm afraid I might have been inaccurate with some of the finer details of this chapter: travel from Wales to Orkney as well as boating terminology. If you're knowledgeable about either, feel free to correct me, but I don't think it hurts the reading any if I'm a tad wrong, does it?
Thanks: I'd especially like to thank last time's readers because you guys helped me completely improve this story. It's only a few chapters in, but I'm proud of it so far. Please share your thoughts on this chapter.
Aviatorlisa: Yes, royalty does have strange child-rearing methods. But Morgause would have raised Mordred, had it not been for Arthur wanting him dead. It's probably better that she didn't, though, or he might have been another Gaheris. xD Glad you enjoyed the kiss!
R&R: As I've said, your feedback is monumentally important to me, so if you're reading this and you like/dislike something, please don't hesitate to point it out. Next chapter will hopefully be released soon. Till then, please review!