Camelot Kingdom

  Southern Courtyard

  General Genesis White Hall let out a sign as he eyed the long line of people drifting into Camelot. He had received word not too long that there was a long line of people already waiting when the gates opened up when the sun peeked over the horizon. He thought the horde of travelers would have peaked later in the day. It was not even 10 am, yet. It appear many families decided to have an early start. He got the feeling more would making their way as the day progressed.

  He rubbed his eyes, tiredly. He didn’t sleep well last night. He spent most of the night, tossing and turning until the sun poked into his room. He knew why. Memories plagued him from when he was younger. He climbed the stairs to the outer wall and strolled to the closet captain. The captain and the group of men saluted the red haired general while he approached. Genesis said, “Report,” as he stopped in front of the group.

  “General,” The captain started in an professional tone, “My man have started to point families to the nearest inns and have requested them to stay there until nightfall. I’m trying to keep the streets as clear as possible to avoid any trouble between feuding families.” He looked uncertain as he turned to the stream of travelers, reaching the outer gates of Camelot. “Permission to speak freely?”

  Genesis glanced toward the long line and nodded, “Granted.”

  “I don’t know if Camelot will be able to house all the people from the villagers for the ceremony,” The Captain voiced his concern. Genesis paused. His mind drifted back to a time where another voiced the same concern, when Camelot’s enemies were like dogs on the heels of the people fleeing them. He remembered the screams of children, the begging of women, and the cries of war from the men who turned to face the enemy with no hope of winning, no hope of returning to their loved ones, and all they could do was try to protect them, give them enough time to try to slip into the defensive castle.

  “My, my, it’s not even noon and you are already acting pissed off, Genesis,” a familiar male voice drawled from his right, causing the red haired General to stop.

  “Jacob, dearest cousin, leave Genesis alone,” a slight high pitch voice of a woman scolded this Jacob fella, “You know how he works as a General of the Royal Military. It’s a stressful job, especially to deal with idiots like you.”

  “HEY!” Jacob cried out in mock rage, “That hurt, Rosie.”

  Genesis turned to face the speakers, ready to unleashed his temper on those two. It wasn’t two people standing outside Hikari Bakery, but three. He raised an eyebrow at the trio. He wasn’t expected to see them, but given the circumstances, it should not have been a surprise.

  The man who spoke - Jacob - lend back the brick side of Hikari Bakery with a pastry in one hand. His brown eyes sparkled with mischief as he turned to Genesis. His strawberry blond hair fell about his head and appeared to be wind swept. He wore traveling clothes which indicated he recently arrived to the town below the Castle. Genesis knew him. Genesis’ younger brother, Vincent and Victor, grew up with him. The trio had spent hours, running through the fields between their families estates. Genesis was often forced to track the trio down for dinner or another social gathering their grandmother was hosting. Lord Jacob White Hall was the Heir of the Morning Gale Estate and one of Genesis’ second cousins.

  Standing next to Jacob was a pretty young lady. Her fiery orange hair was twirled up in a bun at the back of her head. Her crystal blue eyes twinkled with worry as she looked over him. Her painted pink lips pulled into a frown as she saw the circles under his eyes and how he held his shoulders back. She wore a simple dress for a lady of her station. It was a sky blue that had the corset over the bodice of the dress. She didn’t bother wearing the matching hat. Genesis spotted it, sitting on the luggage of a nearby wagon, tired to a bag that must weigh a ton. She was the Lady Rosemary of the House White Hall, heiress of the Clover Manor, and another second cousin.

  The third man standing on Rosemary’s other side looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there. His green eyes stared tiredly at him before he brought up a hand and rubbed at his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair which appeared to be brown in the shade of the building. Genesis knew his hair would have shimmers of gold and red when he stepped out into the sunlight. His clothes were travel worn, but in a way much different then the other two like he did most of the driving of the wagon. He was Lord Remus of House of White Hall, heir of the Lunar Estate, and if Genesis remembered correctly, he was another second cousin. While Remus and Genesis was a year apart in age, they didn’t spend a lot of time together unless it was family related functions and they usually teamed up to watch their younger siblings and cousins while their parents socialized.

  “It is good to see you, again, Rosemary,” Genesis greeted his female cousin first, stepping closer to her and opening his arms.

  The Lady Morgana rubbed the sides of her temples as she entered the Royal Wing of the Castle. The last few days had been extremely stressful as the entire kingdom prepared for the funeral of Uther X, the former patriarch of the House Drake. Belladonna’s attitude had only grown worst, demanding the reason why the Holy Sword didn’t allow Arthur IX to pull it out of its sheath, and nearly accuse Morgana and her former Master, Merlin, of treason. Kalliope had been understanding of what was going on with the Magi as was Vivien. Clarine spent most of yesterday in her room, crying over the lost of her remaining son. Arthur, however, took to acting as the Crown Prince, still, and been handling most of the Ruling duties with the help of his step-mom, Kalliope.

  Morgana’s chocolate brown dress swirled around her legs as she strolled up to the Common Room that the Ruling Family used as a meeting room and private dinning room. Back in her days as a princess, it was used as a family room where the offspring of Uther I would gather and spend time with each other and their mothers. She spotted Sir Lancelot standing guard to the Royal Common Room. He looked up at her as she approached.

  “Good Morning, Sir Lancelot,” she greeted him, “How are you doing?”

  “Lady Morgana,” he replied in a tired tone, “I’ve been better.” Her blues eyes scanned his expression. He had dark bags under his seldom brown eyes and they were blood shot. “What about you, my lady?”

  “Holding it together,” she confessed with a slight nod. Old memories had rose to the surface over the last few days with the announcement of Uther’s passing. Sometimes, they appeared so strong that Morgana thought she had stepped back in time when her half brother Arthur I had took the throne and was going through the process of taking over as King, handling the funeral process, and splitting up Uther’s inheritance between the numerous siblings they had. Of course, that lead to countless conflicts between the half siblings and eventually war between Arthur I and their oldest brother, Robert. She shook herself free of those thoughts about the old times. There was no use bringing up ancient memories when the Present needed to be handled first. “May I go in?” she asked, out of common courtesy.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Sir Lancelot smiled at her and nodded. He turned to the door and rose a fist before he banged on it. She knew there was no other way to alert the people inside of the room to the fact they had a visitor. He waited a second before he opened the door. He stepped inside and announced, “The Lady Morgana is here and wishes to enter.”

  Arthur’s voice rang out in a deep tired tone, “She is allowed to enter.”

  Lancelot pushed the door opened more and stepped aside, allowing Morgana to enter. She passed him and said, “Thank you, Sir Lancelot, for your service to the Crown and the Kingdom.”

  “Your welcome, my lady, and you don’t know how much it means to hear someone say that,” Lancelot’s eyes brightened a bit as he replied.

  “I know it means a lot,” she confessed with a small smile. She strolled past him and went deeper into the Common Room. Her eyes roamed over the large room. One of the royal servants had in the room, recently, to change the red and gold colored decor of House Drake to the seldom and mournful black. It was down right depressing, in Morgana’s opinion. There was enough black around the castle and in the various stores in the town between the inner and outer walls. Morgana’s eyes landed on the former Crown Prince.

  Arthur IX of House Drake looked disheveled. He still wore the same clothes as he did yesterday, Morgana noticed. His blond hair was unkempt. He also had bags under his eyes as he looked up at her as she approached the table. It didn’t take a genius for Morgana to figure out that both Sir Lancelot and Arthur had not gone to bed like majority of the castle did. Arthur waved his hand toward one of the chairs at the long meeting table. She took a seat on Arthur’s left side of the table.

  “We are just waiting for Mage Merlin to show up,” Arthur started as he pulled a roll of parchment toward him and unrolled it, “I want to go over some last minute stuff ahead tomorrow,” he explained before he started to the scroll.

  Morgana nodded. Her eyes drifted over the table’ surface, seeing the numerous rolls of parchment. She grabbed one and unrolled it, reading it. It was a list of invited guests to attend the funeral ceremony held at God’s Holy Light Church after the funeral parade. She spotted representatives from the White Hall Family, General Genesis included, along with several other important families that regular attend court.

  “Your highness,” the Brother started, “I am Brother Ivan. Pope Innocent has heard about King Uther’s passing - may the Holy Father grant him entrance into heaven - and sent word that he wishes to oversee the Funeral Ceremony.”

  Morgana’s jaw dropped as she comprehend what Brother Ivan was saying. The Pope hadn’t visited Camelot in decades. She couldn’t help wondering what was the reasoning behind the Pope’s visit.

  “Does his Holiness knows that we may not provide security,” Genesis asked in disbelief.

  Brother Ivan nodded, “According the letter I recieved a short while ago, His holiness is aware of this issue and is bringing his own security detail.”

  Merlin sucked in a breath as Morgana shifted in her chair uncomfortable before they shared a look. They had issues with the Holy Roman Catolic Church before, mainly religious differences. The last time Pope Innocent had visited, it was during the rule of William of House Roll and Lilian of House Smith. If Morgana remembered correctly, it was shortly after Lilian was crowned in 1986. There was some sort of disagreement between the Ruling Family and the Pope and Pope Innocent never returned, but of course, there was religious turmoil over the last four decades that Pope had to focus on instead of traveling to the different Kingdoms and gave his blessing to the newborn royal children, the various marriages, funeral ceremonies, and other royal functions that the Pope liked to participated in.

  “Who is he bringing?” Bartholomew questioned.

  “Several high ranking members of the Paladin order,” Brother Ivan started. Morgana buried her face in her hands while Merlin let out a soft groan. She knew their reactions caused the both of members of the Ruling Family and the three generals to look at them in surprise.

  “Let me guess,” Merlin stated, looking at the blue robed brother, “Led by High Lord Paladin Peter?”

  “Yes, Mage Merlin,” Brother Ivan replied, startled, “How did you know?”

  “Let’s just say we have a history with High Lord Paladin Peter,” Morgana explained, bringing her hands down into her lap, and she rose her head, her black hair fell down her front, “He is a good man, excellent warrior, man of God, but he frowns upon people like us.” She suggested between Merlin and herself, using her right hand.

  Brother Ivan frowned, “What do you mean?”

  “Non-humans and their half-breed offspring,” the Black Mage went on, “As well as people that has the ability to use the magical arts.”

  “Ah,” Honor finally spoke up, “He’s one of those people.” The magi nodded.

  “Anyway,” Arthur started, “Who else is coming with Father Innocent?”

  “Several high ranking members of the Order of Bishops, led by High Lord Bishop John,” Brother Ivan announced, “As well as new apprentices who wished to become high ranking members of the Church.”

  High Queen Kalliope nodded and she asked, “Does the Church have enough room to house the Pope’s company?”

  “As of right now,” Brother Ivan said, “Yes.” He paused, “However, if we were to continue housing any of the travelers from the various villages nearby and far, that would be in question. The church only has so many rooms available.”

  “That is understandable,” Kalliope nodded, “When will the Pope arrive?”

  “Sometime tomorrow,” the Brother answered, “His holiness sent the letter to the Church just before they left.”

  Morgana knew there was no direct route from the middle of the Roma Country to Camelot. The Pope would have to travel up one of the nearby rivers to reach the Caspian Sea and follow the coastline down to the Camelot docks. Depending if the wind was at their backs, the earliest the Pope and his company would be at Camelot would be mid-morning or early afternoon. That meant they would have to push back the Funeral ceremony, if the Queen wished it, to the 23, instead of having it tomorrow morning.

  “Alright,” Kalliope started, “Unless there are any objections, we will push the funeral ceremony back to the…22?”

  “Let’s make the morning of the 23,” Arthur suggested, “This way we have more time to prepare and add in the order of Paladins to the Funeral Security if they wished to help out and allow Father Innocent to recover his strength for the ceremony.” He took a breath, “When I traveled to Roma, a few years ago, Father Innocent was already getting up there in age. I’m sure he will appreciate the opportunity to rest before he is to oversee the ceremony.”

  Morgana nodded. She remembered the last time when the Pope Innocent visited, she had been surprise that he looked old and it took him some time to recover to recover his strength.

  “Lady Morgana, Mage Merlin,” Kalliope addressed the two magi. Morgana turned her attention to the High Queen, “I know this is could be asking a lot since you are both magical drained, but is there any way one of you could re-new the stasis spell on my King-Husband?”

  Morgana took a moment. She took a deep breath and her eyes rolled up, back into her head. She drifted to her magical core. Merlin had once described his magical pool as a deep well and he had only reached the bottom of it once, back when they had separated Camelot and several kingdoms from the outside world to this parallel dimension of their own creation. The price of that kind of magic was steep. They had lost many, many magi they had personal trained over five decades. While it took Merlin six months to recover from that magical drain in a coma, it took Morgana twice as long because far deep she went into her magical reserves and she was trapped in a coma as well. Merlin was forced to take care of her while she was trapped, recovering.

  She reached her magical core and crossed the barrier, floating down. Her bare feet touched the shoreline of a dry-up lake. Her magical core was similar to a lake then a well. She walked down the slope of the lake until she reached the curve of the bottom. Until the other day, this lake was filled to the brim with simmering blue of magic. She had, over the years, to create streams, branching off the lake disappearing into large storage runes that were design to hold magic. The large storage runes blended into the background of her magical core, empty. She walked along the bottom of the lake until she spotted a small pool of simmering blue, at the far edge of the lake bed. She frowned. It was enough for one major attack spell or three tiny spells. Even that would be iffy and could cost her life. She watched as a very small stream ebbed into view before it disappeared from sight. What remain of her magic was enough to keep her alive and awake.

  “When was this?” Honor asked, a curious note in his voice.

  “Back when the Death Mage Rowena was still a threat to the United Kingdoms of Camelot,” Morgana said, gravely. Bartholomew’s eyes jerked upward. Honor sucked in a breath. Genesis froze. Kalliope gasped, softly. Brother Ivan crossed himself. Arthur swore, softly. They all knew who the Death Mage Rowena was.

  “That was when the United Kingdoms of Camelot was separated from the outside world,” Arthur replied. Morgana nodded. It was a story told to misbehaved children - that the Death Mage Rowena would come and kidnap them if they don’t start behaving and listening to their parents. Silence fell inside the room.

  “If I may,” Brother Ivan spoke up, breaking the silence, “May I make an suggestion?” Arthur and Kalliope nodded. “I do believe there has been a recent discovery in the scientific community about preserving the bodies of the recently deceased?”

  Kalliope’s eyes lit up, saying, “I know what method you are talking about, Brother Ivan. Perhaps, it would be wise to go that route.” She glanced at the magi. “In case, the worst does happen.”

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