12-02-2013, 02:08 PM
Arthur clenched and unclenched his fists several times replaying Merlin’s words in his head, “A king must always be in control, Arthur. People will look to you for guidance but not if you can’t seem to guide yourself. You must not freely show rage or anger or even contempt. Frustration and impatience are the dwellings of lesser men. Now focus!” Arthur took several slow, deep breaths - in through the nose out through the mouth. Where was he dammit! Camelot needed Merlin more than ever and he was dancing with faeries or whatever wizards did. The thought of Merlin dancing brought Arthur a chuckle. Ok, maybe not dancing but worshipping the moon or something just as crazy.
Arthur had summoned every lord of Brittany to Camelot. Rome attacked Brittany without provocation with a massive army of over thirty thousand soldiers, a combination of Roman legions and Gaulish mercenaries. Runners had been bringing news from Londinium for days and the news was not good - the city had fallen quickly to the combined Roman-Gaulish force. Every report since then had seemed an attempt to beat the one before in the garish details of the death and destruction that was the sacking of Londinium. The king of the Gauls had personally killed King Lockshire in the streets, first cutting each of his limbs off with an axe before finally beheading his quivering torso. They did not spend long in Londinium, however, additional reports had them marching the entire host towards Camelot. Arthur cursed the treachery of Rome under his breath. The room was tense, even Gawain’s normal bluster was communicated in hushed tones.
All of Arthur’s allies were assembled with him in the royal hall except one, King Lot of Orkney. As much as Arthur disliked Lot personally and as little as he liked dealing with him, he needed him now. All told, Camelot and allies combined had managed to assemble around seventeen thousand soldiers. More than enough to defend Camelot but allowing the Romans and Gauls to ravage all of Brittany would not be an option. Arthur would lose everything - the respect and fealty of Brittany, the prosperity his unification had brought and the nobility that Camelot stood for. No, Arthur would march on the Romans and fight to the last man if he had to but he would much rather win than lose. King Lot could easily produce an army of over eight thousand which would be more than enough considering they would be fighting on friendly land and they had the superior fighting forces of the knights of Camelot.
Everyone turned at the sound of a royal scout entering the hall and rushing breathlessly directly to Arthur’s seat, “I bring news from the battle at Londinium, my lord.” He was flushed and dirty from the hard travel.
“Get him a drink,” Arthur motioned for an attendant.
After the scout had drank and caught his breath he started to speak, “Londinium is completely overrun and Lockshire has been murdered.” he paused for effect, but this was old news so the room hung expectantly. “The Romans and Gauls command an army of over twenty thousand men. They have already marched from Londinium for Camelot, barely stopping to bury the dead but they have been stopped outside the old Roman fort of Cascura, barely a day from Londinium.”
“What? But how?” this was startling news indeed.
“A nobleman and knight of Londinium, Sir Tristram, commanded five hundred knights and secured the fort. Cascura is built into a cliff face, it is very difficult to overrun, even with vastly superior numbers,” the scout paused.
“Why don’t they just march past?” Arthur looked skeptical.
“After the first day, they tried my lord. Tristram taunts them terribly and whenever they approach, he unleashes with crossbows. When they try to ride by, he assaults their flank. He fights like a madman, cutting them down by the dozens and laughing at them until they turn and chase him back to the fort. There, he taunts them again.”
“So you are telling me that a force of five hundred is trapping a force of more than twenty thousand at bay. Why don’t they just split their forces? Leave five hundred or a thousand men behind and march the main force on Camelot?” Arthur asked.
“I don’t know for certain, my king, but I think they are terrified of him.
Arthur laughed in disbelief, “Well this Tristram is a man I have to meet. Please, go to the feasthall and eat. You are dismissed.”
The scout left and the conversation in the room picked up as everyone started discussing the latest news. Arthur turned to Gawain, “Can you believe this? It sounds highly unlikely that a force of five hundred men is holding off such a larger force. Do you know anything of this Tristram?”
Gawain scratched his neck thoughtfully, “nope, never heard of him. I do know that fort, though. Last time I was through there it was abandoned but it would be almost unassailable with a proper defense. I’d imagine it would take a full siege to flush them out and I don’t know how prepared the Romans are for a siege. They probably intended to march right up to Camelot and knock her right over.” Gawain gave a sardonic chuckle.
A soldier approached the king and spoke to him in hushed tones. “Well bring them in already,” Arthur spoke louder than he had intended. The soldier left the hall and returned a few moments later guiding two messengers of Camelot and one dressed in the black and gold of Orkney. Another joined him at the entrance to flank them and guided them up to Arthur’s seat to present them, “for the King’s privilege I present news from Orkney!” the hall fell completely quiet as the solder began.
“Alright, let him speak,” Arthur cut him off, then scolded himself inwardly for his impatience.
“We brought your message to King Lot of Orkney,” began one of the messengers, an official herald of Camelot, “he treated us nobly as an honorable host of a herald of Camelot should, providing us with refreshments and fresh horses and hearing us out. He sent one of his councilors in return to be sure his communication back to you was as he wished it presented.”
The herald turned to Lot’s man who started speaking to Arthur immediately, “King Lot respects your highness’ call to arms in this hour of Brittany's need, however, Orkney needs first to attend to their own defenses.”Still, we could be certain to send you a force of over ten thousand soldiers provided you would agree to some very reasonable terms,” the councilor pulled a rolled up document from his robe and handed it over. Arthur cursed under his breath. If he agreed to terms for Orkney, it would set a dangerous precedent that he couldn't afford. He needed the forces, but if the kingdoms of Brittany refused to answer the call to arms of their king, they were engaging in treason.
“Who is he to set terms for his king?” Arthur could barely contain his rage.
“Are you refusing the terms your highness?” the councilor answered with a smirk that caused Arthur to clench his fists. Arthur unrolled the document and started to read, his face turning up in surprise. The document was an invitation to a victory banquet in Arthur’s honor to be held in Orkney a fortnight away. He looked up to see every eye in the room looking to him. This didn't make sense. Orkney was a three days’ ride at minimum and Londinium was four. For Arthur to make this victory banquet, Lot’s army would have to march tonight, meet up with Arthur’s forces, march straight to Londinium, slaughter the Roman force uncontested and march straight to Orkney without stopping. But that wouldn't allow for the time necessary to communicate the message to him. “Impossible,” he answered, “even with fortune at our backs we could never make it this quick.”
“It’s possible, my lord,” the councilor smiled at him, “Orkney’s army already marched. They will be here before night fall.”
Arthur considered carefully. Even if they did decimate the Romans he doubted it would be over. Who knows the size of the army Rome would send for a war with Brittany? And how much did he trust Lot? Relations between the two had never been good. Lot had sided with the five kings that resisted Arthur taking the crown of Brittany, never actually joining the battles though and offering Arthur hesitant fealty after the other five were all killed. What if Lot was really marching on Camelot to overthrow it while Arthur was distracted? Where was Merlin now that he needed him most? Still, what choice did he really have. He rose from his seat and unsheathed his sword, holding it high, “Ready your men! Tonight, we ride to make those treacherous Roman scum pay!”
Arthur had summoned every lord of Brittany to Camelot. Rome attacked Brittany without provocation with a massive army of over thirty thousand soldiers, a combination of Roman legions and Gaulish mercenaries. Runners had been bringing news from Londinium for days and the news was not good - the city had fallen quickly to the combined Roman-Gaulish force. Every report since then had seemed an attempt to beat the one before in the garish details of the death and destruction that was the sacking of Londinium. The king of the Gauls had personally killed King Lockshire in the streets, first cutting each of his limbs off with an axe before finally beheading his quivering torso. They did not spend long in Londinium, however, additional reports had them marching the entire host towards Camelot. Arthur cursed the treachery of Rome under his breath. The room was tense, even Gawain’s normal bluster was communicated in hushed tones.
All of Arthur’s allies were assembled with him in the royal hall except one, King Lot of Orkney. As much as Arthur disliked Lot personally and as little as he liked dealing with him, he needed him now. All told, Camelot and allies combined had managed to assemble around seventeen thousand soldiers. More than enough to defend Camelot but allowing the Romans and Gauls to ravage all of Brittany would not be an option. Arthur would lose everything - the respect and fealty of Brittany, the prosperity his unification had brought and the nobility that Camelot stood for. No, Arthur would march on the Romans and fight to the last man if he had to but he would much rather win than lose. King Lot could easily produce an army of over eight thousand which would be more than enough considering they would be fighting on friendly land and they had the superior fighting forces of the knights of Camelot.
Everyone turned at the sound of a royal scout entering the hall and rushing breathlessly directly to Arthur’s seat, “I bring news from the battle at Londinium, my lord.” He was flushed and dirty from the hard travel.
“Get him a drink,” Arthur motioned for an attendant.
After the scout had drank and caught his breath he started to speak, “Londinium is completely overrun and Lockshire has been murdered.” he paused for effect, but this was old news so the room hung expectantly. “The Romans and Gauls command an army of over twenty thousand men. They have already marched from Londinium for Camelot, barely stopping to bury the dead but they have been stopped outside the old Roman fort of Cascura, barely a day from Londinium.”
“What? But how?” this was startling news indeed.
“A nobleman and knight of Londinium, Sir Tristram, commanded five hundred knights and secured the fort. Cascura is built into a cliff face, it is very difficult to overrun, even with vastly superior numbers,” the scout paused.
“Why don’t they just march past?” Arthur looked skeptical.
“After the first day, they tried my lord. Tristram taunts them terribly and whenever they approach, he unleashes with crossbows. When they try to ride by, he assaults their flank. He fights like a madman, cutting them down by the dozens and laughing at them until they turn and chase him back to the fort. There, he taunts them again.”
“So you are telling me that a force of five hundred is trapping a force of more than twenty thousand at bay. Why don’t they just split their forces? Leave five hundred or a thousand men behind and march the main force on Camelot?” Arthur asked.
“I don’t know for certain, my king, but I think they are terrified of him.
Arthur laughed in disbelief, “Well this Tristram is a man I have to meet. Please, go to the feasthall and eat. You are dismissed.”
The scout left and the conversation in the room picked up as everyone started discussing the latest news. Arthur turned to Gawain, “Can you believe this? It sounds highly unlikely that a force of five hundred men is holding off such a larger force. Do you know anything of this Tristram?”
Gawain scratched his neck thoughtfully, “nope, never heard of him. I do know that fort, though. Last time I was through there it was abandoned but it would be almost unassailable with a proper defense. I’d imagine it would take a full siege to flush them out and I don’t know how prepared the Romans are for a siege. They probably intended to march right up to Camelot and knock her right over.” Gawain gave a sardonic chuckle.
A soldier approached the king and spoke to him in hushed tones. “Well bring them in already,” Arthur spoke louder than he had intended. The soldier left the hall and returned a few moments later guiding two messengers of Camelot and one dressed in the black and gold of Orkney. Another joined him at the entrance to flank them and guided them up to Arthur’s seat to present them, “for the King’s privilege I present news from Orkney!” the hall fell completely quiet as the solder began.
“Alright, let him speak,” Arthur cut him off, then scolded himself inwardly for his impatience.
“We brought your message to King Lot of Orkney,” began one of the messengers, an official herald of Camelot, “he treated us nobly as an honorable host of a herald of Camelot should, providing us with refreshments and fresh horses and hearing us out. He sent one of his councilors in return to be sure his communication back to you was as he wished it presented.”
The herald turned to Lot’s man who started speaking to Arthur immediately, “King Lot respects your highness’ call to arms in this hour of Brittany's need, however, Orkney needs first to attend to their own defenses.”Still, we could be certain to send you a force of over ten thousand soldiers provided you would agree to some very reasonable terms,” the councilor pulled a rolled up document from his robe and handed it over. Arthur cursed under his breath. If he agreed to terms for Orkney, it would set a dangerous precedent that he couldn't afford. He needed the forces, but if the kingdoms of Brittany refused to answer the call to arms of their king, they were engaging in treason.
“Who is he to set terms for his king?” Arthur could barely contain his rage.
“Are you refusing the terms your highness?” the councilor answered with a smirk that caused Arthur to clench his fists. Arthur unrolled the document and started to read, his face turning up in surprise. The document was an invitation to a victory banquet in Arthur’s honor to be held in Orkney a fortnight away. He looked up to see every eye in the room looking to him. This didn't make sense. Orkney was a three days’ ride at minimum and Londinium was four. For Arthur to make this victory banquet, Lot’s army would have to march tonight, meet up with Arthur’s forces, march straight to Londinium, slaughter the Roman force uncontested and march straight to Orkney without stopping. But that wouldn't allow for the time necessary to communicate the message to him. “Impossible,” he answered, “even with fortune at our backs we could never make it this quick.”
“It’s possible, my lord,” the councilor smiled at him, “Orkney’s army already marched. They will be here before night fall.”
Arthur considered carefully. Even if they did decimate the Romans he doubted it would be over. Who knows the size of the army Rome would send for a war with Brittany? And how much did he trust Lot? Relations between the two had never been good. Lot had sided with the five kings that resisted Arthur taking the crown of Brittany, never actually joining the battles though and offering Arthur hesitant fealty after the other five were all killed. What if Lot was really marching on Camelot to overthrow it while Arthur was distracted? Where was Merlin now that he needed him most? Still, what choice did he really have. He rose from his seat and unsheathed his sword, holding it high, “Ready your men! Tonight, we ride to make those treacherous Roman scum pay!”
