The Hundreth Tear: Part IX

On the day he left home for Camelot, Amr's grandparents presented him with a sword and shield.

"This sword was given me by my father when I became a man, even as his father had given it to him years before. Bear it with courage and honor, and you will keep faith with those who've borne it before you." Mael helped Amr buckle the sword belt around his waist, then stepped aside to let his wife speak.

Gorfan stood silent for a few moments, the edge of the shield resting against her knees, then reached out a hand to ruffle Amr's hair. "Don't fret, boy. I'm not going to kiss you. And I don't have fancy words to say, Here, take this shield." She tilted it forward until Amr took it, turning it so the front now was set facing towards the others. Gorfan smiled. "That's better. That shield has hung on your bedroom wall all these years and now you've grown old enough and strong enough to use it. May it keep you safe in battle, and protect you from treachery and evil." Then despite her earlier assurances, Gorfan of Glynebwy kissed her grandson goodbye.

They watched their grandson ride off to Camelot with the escort Arthur had sent for Amr until even the sunlight flashing off armor was lost to view. Then Mael slid his arm around Gorfan's waist and they turned away from watching the road.

There was nothing more Gorfan could do to protect her grandson. She had to trust that the shield would be able to do that for her.

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The ride to Camelot was a great adventure for Amr. Not only was he finally going to live with his father, but he was going to meet some of the warriors whose exploits he'd heard bards extol in their songs. And then too, there was meeting the other boys who joined them along the way, for he wasn't making this trip alone. There had been a number of sons born to the lords and princes of Britain in the heady days following Arthur's appearance, and now they were all reaching an age when they could be trained as the next generation of leaders.

Among these was Amr's half-brother, Llacheu.

Llacheu of Carnathen was easygoing and mischievous, and the two became fast friends within hours of their meeting. There was a strong resemblance between Arthur's sons; they were both tall, a bit gawky, with brown hair and grey eyes. Amr found himself happy with the idea of having Llacheu as brother and confidant.

Another boy joined the party a few days ride out of Camelot, his escort bearing the Double Eagle standard of the Orkneys. Medraut had grown to be only an inch or so smaller than his cousins, but his pale skin and awkward riding spoke of long hours spent indoors. And as hard as he tried to ingratiate himself with the rest of the boys, he never quite seemed to fit in. Amr felt sorry for him, and made the effort to include him in the conversations with Llacheu, who would be polite but not overly friendly.

"You should try to be nicer to him, you know." They were sitting by the campfire on the night before they would finally reach Camelot, and Medraut had been assigned to the boys tending to the horses. Amr broke a twig and tossed it into the flames while waiting for an answer.

"You can't be serious! You do know who his mother is, right? Morgaine of Orkney, the Witch Queen?"

Amr grinned. "Of course I know who she is! She's our aunt, blockhead! And aye, I've heard all the stories, but I'll wager that's all they are: wild stories told by grannies to keep the littles in line."

"And what of the other stories? The ones my grandsire told me, about how she poisoned your mother with an apple?" Llacheu leaned closer. "Amr, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's alright. And my mother wasn't poisoned; she swallowed a bite the wrong way and choked. But `Leu, it's not fair that Medraut should be made to feel unwanted just because of some stories about his mother. You saw how the other boys avoid him. We should give him a chance."

Sounds of approaching conversations warned them that Medraut and the others were returning to the fire. "Alright, Amr, I'll give him a chance, but you on the other hand just be wary of him." Llacheu stood and turned to walk to his blankets, only to find Medraut standing but a few feet away from where the two boys had been talking.

As he drifted off to sleep that night, he wondered how much the Prince of the Orkneys had heard.

The next day the smell of the ocean was in the air, and the party rode down wide dirt roads past well kept old Roman villas and more recently built British farmhouses. There were many other people using the road, and Amr was amazed at the number of them as well as the different languages he heard spoken around him. He exchanged grins with Llacheu, knowing he was just as impatient to finally see Arthur's grand new city and castle.

Then they came round a curve to the left, rode up a slight rise in the road, and there it was:Camelot.

The city itself was a bit disappointing; Caerleon was larger and had a wall around it. But Camelot was situated on the shore of the Irish Sea, and ships were docked at piers that still looked new, and even from here Amr could see how the city folk hurried about, intent on their business. And above it all, on the hill overlooking the city, was the castle of Camelot, already nearly completed in less time than such a mighty fortress would normally have been. The towers were straight and true, and the Red Dragon banner waved proudly in the wind from the highest point.

"Merlin did that!" Amr stared in awe. "Most castles would only be half-built, but Merlin used magic to get it done faster."

The leader of the men escorting the boys to Camelot chuckled. "Not to hear old Merlin tell it. He says it was science and skill that let him do that." He moved ahead impatiently "No time to sit and gawk. The King will greet you all tonight, but Sir Kay will have my hide if you all aren't there in time to bathe and change into more appropriate clothes. Move along now."

And so Amr of Glynebwy and Llacheu of Carmathen entered Camelot for the first time, laughing with excitement, along with a more thoughtful looking Medraut of Orkney.

Arthur's sons had come to Camelot.