Restoring the Kingdom (2)

Two more days passed, and the situation at the castle proved to be somewhat stable despite several bumps I had to deal with.

Despite my initial intent of making sure that the army under my command would have been able to muster up ten rifles to have some advantage with what I had planned with the military, I ended up realizing that five was the best that could be produced with what was available to the city's blacksmiths.

With the lack of modern tools to properly optimize the mining operations of the region, the quantity available had already been depleted in the creation of standard weaponry like swords, daggers and even shields.

It was an annoying development that crushed the little expectation I had hoped to accomplish in a limited amount of time.

Every advantage was a must for the sake of properly conquer the rest of the isles, but perhaps I was aiming a little too high with my current disposition.

Despite my royal title, my kingship was still limited to the regional area of Modern London, and the full control of this very section of England was just stable enough to allow proper trading and diplomatic actions.

With the first activities of the newly-formed 'Londinium Police Regiment' ending up sweeping numerous nests of bandits in these last few days, the means for people to finally travel around without having to worry for any attack increased the amount of trips between Londinium proper and the other villages around.

Some diplomatic envoys from some of the nobles ruling part of the settlements finally arrived, requesting audience for the sake of formalizing the legal submission to my code of rules.

It was nothing legitimate or binding to any of those morons, but it would at least reduce the inward warring between them. At least until I was capable of properly reigning them him without risking some ugly rebellion.

The farmers that were finally free to return to work back to their farms decided to gradually implement my advices as I had mentioned moderation for the sake of avoiding any issues with the current state of the land.

I wasn't going to get hasty because of the recent successes, but I was also annoyed at the fact that the results would take much more than a couple of days to see some improvements… or not.

On a more positive note, I was more than happy to hear that Mya safely recovered from her fever without any complications.

I decided to not inquire too deeply about the medical assistance provided, knowing pretty well that while Altuos had provided some presence in keeping watch over the young woman, the majority of the work was all done by the healers that were sent to help her out once I was done with that interaction.

I had visited a couple more of times, entertaining the harmless lady with some more tales, straying a little to include some that had yet to be conceived, but always sticking by the more easygoing ones.

The talks were pleasant, and I was glad that none of the gloomy subjects that had seen me actually pale at the situations she had to have gone through with her life were actually brought up in those conversations.

She was happier, I could see the white-haired girl actually sounding like she was genuinely enjoying the company and the discussions… but still reluctant to give out more information about her own past.

I decided that there was no fret, after all the paperwork was doing its best to put me in a state of constant irritation over the little issues arising within the castle.

With the lack of a constant danger threatening their livelihood, I had to deal with flimsy problems that were starting to emerge just now and I was once more reminded that I was dealing with pre-feudal society.

The king was considered a messenger of God, someone that had been entrusted by the Christian Deity (or the Celtic ones) to lead them towards a shiny future.

My actions had confirmed this mentality, especially with the Church praising restlessly my successes as the undeniable evidence of the Lord commanding His will against the infidels.

It was good PR to gain more people to joining the military or the growing productive classes within the city, but I was slowly realizing that this situation could easily become a double-edged weapon without proper attention from my part.

Felicianus might sound to mean well with his speeches towards me, but it would take just an unflattering mistake that I might end up committing that I could see this praise become a dangerous insult to face right now.

Excommunication was still not a thing that the Church had 'developed' and I was pretty sure that the Pope would care little about what is going on here with the British Isles now that he was dealing with Odoacer taking over Italy.

But I wasn't certainly going to ignore the magnitude religion still had in this period, even though Christianity was hardly believed into by a large majority of Britain's population.

Taking under considerations any possible variables of internal instability, I moved quickly to continue the preparations for the expeditionary forces I was ready to lead right into the undefended coastal region under barbarians' control.

The general plan was simple as it was based more on a primitive version of Sherman's March to the Sea, with it developing from the destruction of Barbarian settlements along the way, and the destruction of the large fleet that had led the horde within the Isles.

I had thought about going as far as burning the fertile fields along the way, but I was rebuked by two substantial detail I was keen to not make mistakes about.

First thing first, was the impact it would have had in public opinion as many citizens were well-aware that there was a distinct conduct of warfare that just couldn't see the utility of destroying resources that would need to be conquered.

While soldiers could see the importance of shattering any food the massive armies of barbarians could get their hands on, the rest was blissfully unwilling to even consider doing anything about it.

And that is until I ignored the fact that the fields themselves weren't what truly sustained the bulk of their raiders, but something that offered opportunity to settle properly in the territory.

Most of the supplies came through the fleet that continuously moved in the North Sea to take these from the tribes that had stayed behind in Northern Germany.

With the standing army that was formed by those men that had decided to remain after the first skirmish had gone through five days of intense drilling under Marcus' strict watch, I was ready to take a large part of it to march directly into the ports that were currently being used by the barbarians to set those on fire.

I had completely healed from my own injuries, and I felt certain that my current fighting capacity was good enough to keep up with the duress of the campaign before me…

And yet I was forced to take a couple of step backs at Marcus' and Altuos' insistence.

The leader of the Magus Guild mentioned how there was no one that could have kept things stable if I had departed so suddenly, while the commander pointed out a strange anecdote that he had once heard from some Latin scholar.

When Rome is under threat, the Emperor is meant to stay there and defend it personally, no matter how pressing other issues might be.

In layman's terms, I was going to be sticking around Londinium for the time being until the city itself was safe from any inner or outward threat to it… thus leaving the task of marching to break the back of our enemies right to the second-best choice as military leader.

Marcus was… annoyed by this development much to my legitimate surprise.

Strangely enough, he had been sounding quite skeptical about attacking the still-dangerous group of invaders right by their lair, mentioning how there could have been some traps lurking on the path and that there was more than a good reason to be concerned over garrisons set by the settlements that were meant to be targeted.

His uneasiness lessened when I mentioned that it wouldn't have been a swift strike, but rather an orderly and careful advance that was going to be supplanted by a couple of Magi that were meant to work both as supports to the fight and a mean to keep in contact with Londinium.

Two enchanted book that were capable of showing the messages written on the pages of each other. It was something innovative for warfare, but also quite limiting as it didn't offer proper visuals and the books could be stolen by some thieves or even by the enemy themselves.

And both predicaments were not something I wished to entertain about even by just thinking of those and… I was quick to provide some extra details over the contingencies to the commander, sure that some obstacles along the way were meant to be there to delay their efforts.

With a quick greeting by the main gates of the city, I made sure to follow the punitive group by the entrance of the city, waiting there and looking as the marching soldiers walked with moderation towards the thick forest in front of them.

Marcus had sounded convinced just a couple of hours before leaving the city, and yet I couldn't help but feel uneasy at the fact I would have just a limited insight over what the army was going to be doing without my personal presence there.

I was by no mean trying to undermine his leadership… but I wasn't going to deny the fact that the mission was going to be a risky one where lives would have to be sacrificed for its success.

Sure, the advance was as cautious as it best worked with the situation, but there was nothing that protected the group from an unexpected army having ditched the need of fortifying the northern border against the Lothians.

With a blank expression on my face and my next step from there being to return to Altuos, I was quick to make my way to where the elder had his personal office.

The walk was quiet and uneventful, ending with me reaching to knock at the closed room that led to where the old man was possibly dealing with his own share of paperwork.

Once I was granted permission to enter, I resumed my studies under the proper guidance of the experienced Magus.

The lesson diverged from the standard theory, and moved right to a piece of history I was particularly 'unaware' about.

Altuos had already mentioned that there was some truth within the words about deities from antiquity, but the Gods weren't just some humanoid with divine powers… they were beings that transcended humanity in terms of magical prowess.

Actively interested in manipulating human lives, their existence was something of a unique treat compared to more mortal existences.

The real surprise? Their divinity wasn't as elevated as those were mentioned in old texts, nor they were as infinite as they appeared to be.

Divine Spirit, that was the correct the denomination for the various beings that was denominated as 'God' in both Hellenic and Latin Mythologies.

Creatures that were powerful but also weakened by the passing of time, the decline of the time period where magic was a common thing in people's lives.

The Age of Gods.

There were surprising events that accelerated the passing of this era, the best-known ones being the death of King Solomon and the birth of Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

The beginning of a revival of magic, now turned so unique and rare that just a couple of individuals are prepared to make use of what is left of it.

The Magicians, those capable of using the kinds of Magic that are still usable in this new world order.

Gaia, the will of the planet, represents the ultimate watcher of any dangerous threat against Earth itself, sometimes finding humans responsible for these atrocities, and Alaya, the will of mankind.

This last detail drew me to a confused frown and I inquired over what true purpose Alaya actually had towards humanity as a whole.

The answer was… odd. There wasn't truly one to give at that question of mine, yet Altuos admitted that the Will of Mankind was something that worked to make sure that no threat 'outside humanity itself' could inflict any damages to the mankind as a whole.

There were exceptions were certain men and women were killed early on for the impact they would cause with their mere presence to the rest of mankind, but those were rare cases that couldn't optimally shape the true nature of Alaya's intervention within the world.

The lesson then moved to something I had completely ignored about… and that was dreadfully important about magecraft as a whole.

The dangers of revealing the mystery of Magecraft.

While the Age of Gods has concluded, this new one still was in steady decline towards the final moments of magic as a whole concept.

Magic existed through the declining passage that connected the world to the Swirl of the Root.

A place beyond material existence, beyond the metaphysical and deep within what I've decided to define as the 'Eternally Absolute Plane'.

An abstract domain that was correlated to everything in the world, while somehow also keeping detached by some true attachment to the planet.

Time, memories, existential opportunities, ideals, dreams, Heavens, and Magic.

The more I listened to the elder's words, the more I was being reminded of a term I had studied back in High School.

Hyperuranion. The Perfect Realm of Forms, the Platonic Realm, the place where every ideas was connected to the objects they represented.

The Heavenly plane where true divinity is kept from the world, where the individuality is conceptualized to all sentient beings.

Writing down some notes that would require some extra pondering over the matter, I was eventually told what truly made the current position of the Magus Guild a complicated one especially now that I was starting to make use so publicly of magecraft-created objects.

The magical degradation was connected to the awareness of the world as a whole of the true origins of Magic itself, the Root.

Up until now, the only reason why the decline of the supernatural power had been so slow and not-so worrying was connected to the fact nobody had ever inquire about the true reasons creating the process itself.

Only Magi were aware of the beginning of the process, from where the magical spell was materialized and conceptualized, thus keeping the 'Mystery of the Root' going even now that I putting so much pressure on them.

It was something that left me in a mix of embarrassment and mortification, even pushing me to apologize to the old man despite the lack of annoyance over the matter, but I was quick to take under consideration this matter once I was done with the lesson.

Some proper regulations were hopefully going to to be the best solution possible to this awkward flaw that I had to cover about without having to explain much to people.

To think that there is actually an even greater limitation about magecraft, I was left with an annoyed mood despite the pleasant tune of the discussion born from that topic.

And with that lesson concluded with the elder, I eventually decided to return to my office, ready to headbutt against the paperwork once more as to deal with this new development that required my utmost attention now more than ever.

Yet, with my full attention diverted to make some preventive ordinances to answer to this dangerous predicament, I found myself dealing with far more than I had expected to as I would soon realize by the time I was well engrossed by the writing that someone had come to visit from afar to seek a private meeting with me.

Someone that I hadn't expected would have come to my court of all places...

My silent duty of signing and writing the reports required to limit the means for the people in the castle to discover the Mystery of the Root was one that went smoothly for about a full hour.

I was delving deep with the big law I was formulating to make sure that there was no opening left about the troublesome discovery when I heard someone knocking at the door.

At first I was confused, fairly sure that Altuos had mentioned that he would have been busy with some duties as guild-master and with Marcus being away from Londinium I was sure it wasn't him.

Yet, despite my surprise at this unexpected event, I decided to allow whoever was on the other side of the door to enter.

At the end of my verbal response, the door opened as a tall man with dark-purple armor entered inside.

He looked fairly young, his plum-colored hair kept short and his face shaven of any beard. His violet eyes were lost to the spacious room for a couple of moments before he finally fixed his stare right onto my figure, his body tensing up in a state of brief embarrassment.

Soon he moved, kneeling down before me much to my following surprise and discomfort at the thought of how much cumbersome that action had to have been to accomplish with the armor he was wearing.

"King Joseph, it's an honor making of your acquaintance," The stranger muttered with a strong and formal voice.

I blinked at the presentation, still confused about the suddenness of the situation and the lack of knowledge about whom I was talking to.

Plus, how the heck does someone get purple hair in this place and time?

My musing was interrupted when I noticed that the man looked quite strained by the current posture and I hummed. "You can stand up, good sir," I mentioned with quick words, then gesturing at the chairs. "And take a seat. I see that you are tired and in need of some rest."

He complied, but the surprise visible on his face about the second request delayed him actually taking a seat by one of the available chairs.

The wood groaned a little under that weight, but it held well the presence of the man.

"Thank you, your Highness," The armored stranger replied with a relieved tone. "It's been a long journey that has seen me arrive here in Londinium and… I've barely rested along the way."

I blinked again, this time my confusion intensifying with the 'eagerness' displayed by the man to come here in this city.

"I assume it was a draining experience," I commented quietly about it. "Still, if it isn't too much to inquire… may I know what is your name, good sir?"

There was some silence that succeeded my query, the man's eyes widening again as he tensed up at my question.

"I… I thought that my visit was known and expected," He explained with a surprised tone. "In fact, I was told by Commander Marcus Ambrosius that your Highness had been alerted of my visit beforehand-"

"Well, I wasn't aware of anyone important visiting by Marcus, nor I know whom I'm talking to," I replied with a frown. "Do you have anything that could help with this claim? Letters about this situation perhaps?"

The man blinked, reaching from the leather pouch hanging by his side as he pulled out a rolled parchment out of it.

He settled it by the table and I slowly reached for it as I started to slowly read the content of the letter.

I was surprised that despite the fact that in this period there were just so little means for the military leader to have actually sent this letter across the pond, and even more that he hadn't addressed the letter properly to the receiver, that it actually reached the young man sitting in front of me.

Maybe it was the result of some contacts he had in France? The prick had mentioned that he had some old companions still stationed there, so I could see him actually make use of his contacts in the territory to send the letter right up to the individual I was now dealing with.

Quietly reading the paper, I spared a couple of glances at the armored figure, noticing his eyes scanning distractedly at the rest of the room, seemingly still trying to get hold of the various things held within it.

I closed the paper and nodded.

"This is Marcus's calligraphy, and I can say the signature is authentic," I finally judged, drawing the man's attention back to me. "Yet, he never mentioned you by your name. Calling you 'kid' and 'brat' most of the time."

He sported some color on his face at the mentioning of those 'affectionate' terms that the Commander was keen to make use around people he trusted and 'cared' to a certain degree.

"It's always like that."

"Oh, I know that myself," I admitted with a hum, gaining a surprised look from the guy. "Let's just say that being king doesn't grant immunity to sassy comments from him."

He blinked, a small smile settling on his face.

"I understand," He said with a nod, then he showed a serious look. "But I've yet to introduce myself, and I should do this properly."

It took him a blink of an eye to move out of his seat and once again, he was kneeling in front of the desk.

"King Joseph, I'm Lancelot du Lac, Knight of the Lake." He bowed his head. "It's an honor to have been invited at your court, and I will understand if you find it proper to refuse me entrance at this unexpected visit."

…

What the hell!

Like really, I was trying my best to appear genuinely kind with those that showed so much respect to me, but I was stomped for a couple of seconds by that unexpected introduction for numerous reasons that were currently hindering my capacity to react properly.

Lancelot, one of the best-known characters in the Arthurian Legend. A man that was once considered the most loyal knight of the Round Table, and one of the most memorable ones, before he ended up falling in love with Queen Guinevere, wife of King Arthur himself.

I pondered over this notion, knowing full well that there were multiple versions of the infamous betrayal, but none actually came close to explain why Lancelot did what he ended up doing after so many years serving his King.

He had to have met Guinevere previously, yet the infatuation had sparked much later in the legendary King's rule… and that just sounded like some deep manipulation.

Perhaps Morgan had some hands in it? Maybe she was responsible for forcing the collapse of the Round Table, weakening her mortal adversary so that she could send Mordred in to finish the job.

Still, now that he was here at my court, what was I going to do about this?

Marcus had mentioned for him to actually join the court on a permanent basis, pointing out that both his sword and mine… matched.

It was an odd use of the term, but I suppose it has to do with the fact that Lancelot's sword was always mentioned as something of a mystery.

Many considered it to be 'Secace' or 'Seure', while others thought its name was 'Joyeux'.

There was only a couple of sparse cases where it was also named Arondight, but the latter instance was rarely mentioned about this very denomination.

So it wouldn't be that much of a surprising discovery if the sword itself revealed to be as magically-enchanted as Crocea Mors.

"Stand up, Sir Lancelot," I muttered while biting down a groan at the perfectly-visible pained look on his visage. "And please, don't kneel down like this ever again if you're wearing that armor. Bowing suits you better to avoid any unneeded strains."

He blinked, looking sheepish at the calm reply, and he stood up with a small smile once more occupying his lips.

"I understand, your Highness," The knight answered politely. "But still, I've yet to hear your answer about my stay here."

Quite the impatience fellow, I deduced from that rebuttal but I was still thinking what I should do about him.

As good as a knight he might be, I was also terribly aware of what might led to a war against King Arthur himself.

Magical trick or not, I wasn't going to try my luck by having the knight ever come close to the Queen of Camelot if I decided to let him stay at my court.

There were risks like there were some possible rewards at taking that gamble, but considering that every help now was a need, I decided to see how far my dumb fortune will have me go.

At least I can say I did the rodeo of my life.

"Considering the recommendation advanced by Commander Marcus, and since I'm aware of some of your reputation back from your time spent in Gallia," I started to mention with a careful tone of voice, trying to keep anything that could tell him about my ultimate decision. "I suppose you are allowed to stay at my court, and to serve me as a Knight as long as you wish, Child of Nimue."

He tensed up a little, his posture displaying full shock at my comment as I supposed he wasn't aware of my knowledge about his past.

"I've heard about your upbringing, Knight of the Lake," I continued with a nod. "I'm aware of your chivalrous nature, of your goodness. I wish for you to be by my side from now on, I wish for you to help me bring good peace to the Isles."

His tension eased, his stare showed some understanding light at my words and… he sighed.

"Your words weighs me a lot, for they sound as genuine as proper of a good king," Lancelot finally replied with a happy voice. "I've met greedy man, I've met liars, and I've seen the tragedy of those that strayed from their outstanding dreams."

…

"This is why I will join you, King Joseph," The man confessed with a determined tone. "For I believe that, like Marcus has told me in his letters, your potential to bring true stability to not only Britain, but to the World as a whole is there to be fully unraveled."

I was slightly stunned by this sudden comment, but I gave him a slow nod.

"Thank you for giving me this trust," I muttered with genuine thankfulness. "And… wait, letters?"

I've read just a single letter, one that was particularly short and there were more of those? And what kind of stuff did Marcus write him about?!

At the mentioning of this detail, Lancelot looked quite hesitant as he reached once more deep in his pouch and pulled out… even more papers that were there for me to read.

Five letters, all of them sent on a daily basis ever since I've met with the Commander.

Each of those mentioning the first meeting, the following spars, some sassy comments about my spars and… some legitimate praises directed all at me.

I was stuck silent at reading and re-reading the parchments for some time, lost in that brief instance of being revealed that there was some pride in the fact he was teaching me.

Despite the fact that I've been at odds with the old soldier for some time now, I was always curious to know about the guy's thoughts about my own progress.

There wasn't much of a compliment among the drills, never much of a positive comment when sparring and… it was always felt like getting dragged around so suddenly and so mercilessly.

It felt annoying, it felt irritating, and yet merely reading that he did found some of my improvements worth of pridefully highlight in his usual sassy style was… kind of flattering.

It felt worthwhile, it made all the sweat and blood given for pushing my body right up to a proper path to stand up to the adversities more than important. It was a need, it was a must… and it was something that I had to work on diligently from now on.

Then I finally blinked out from that daze, noticing that Lancelot had been staring at me with a certain degree of curiosity.

I coughed nervously, making him look away at the fact I had noticed his glance on me.

"I suppose you will need some proper rest now," I hummed with some calm. "If you ask one of the guards at my door, they will escort you to the proper room that Marcus has set for you."

He gave a swift nod, probably unwilling to face any awkward development from this point onward and followed my words by starting to reach for the door, lips twitching in preparation for some quick words before leaving.

"Your Majesty… you can keep the letters if you need," Lancelot mentioned with a careful voice, gaining my full attention again. "I'm sure that… it will do you well if you keep those for now."

I blinked at that comment, almost ready to narrow my eyes at that and inquire more about this situation but… I had yet to conclude my paperwork and I could forgive some indirect annoyance.

"I will keep those until dinner," I answered with a sigh. "Once I will have you introduced properly to the court, I will see for those to be returned."

He nodded, giving me little else comments as he left me alone in my office… among papers and papers.

I took a deep breath, returning back to my seat with a drained posture as I took the letter I had discarded just a couple of moments ago, and resumed my reading.

...

Wait, what does Marcus mean that he actually had a sword behind him when he gave me that 'sword-finding' test?