Medders

There is one book in Medric's personal library more dear to him than the Old Code itself. It if the legend of the first Knight of the Road, the first of Medric's Order. Here follows that tale ...




That which has gone before ? it is the darkest time for the Old Kingdom of Britain. The Knights, under the banner of Arthur Pendragon have ridden forth against the forces of Morgana Le Fay, commanded by her son, Mordred, on the field at Camlann. Battle has been joined, and both Arthur and Mordred fall at each other?s hands. With his last breath, Arthur orders his Constable, Bedivere, to return Excalibur to the Lady of the Lake, Niniane.

This done, Bedivere returns to his King, only to witness his last ship sail for the shores of Avalon.

Meanwhile, Lancelot, greatest knight of the land, hangs up his arms on hearing of the Kings death. With his sword gone, this leaves the gates of Annwn unguarded against the return of Vorien Xerrier, fel-paladin of Morgana, who some say was of the line of the Elves, banished to the eternal dark of the Underworld, to return and take the mantle of Guletic of Morgana?s forces.

All this begins at the end of my history. I shall not recount what has gone before; that was the stuff of legends. Instead I shall tell in this journal what follows, and hope that it shall find it?s way to those who would restore the Realm to her glory, in preparation for the coming of the Pendragon.

And so my journey begins ?

I had my orders, uttered across the waters as his last ship travelled unto fair Avalon. Find the children of Caladfwlch, it had said, find the Mystic Isle. I knew not what this meant, Caladfwlch was the old name of the blade I had returned unto the Lake, the hard lightening, Excalibur. How could such have children? But I would follow my Liege?s word beyond his grave, I knew of the Mystic Isle; it was far to the North and West of here, many days travel.
I took off my colours, left my armour on the muddy grounds of that last great battlefield, and took the simple robes of a monk, and headed north. To travel, as a Knight, would spell the end of this quest before it had begun, for now there were powers in the land that hunted the Brothers of the Table, those that had not fallen at Camlann. The forces of the Morgawse, Lady Morgana Le Fay were now unchecked in the Kingdoms, and invaders crossed the Eastern Seas to pillage our once fair land.

My quest took me northwards and to the west, across the mountains of Cambria and into the Kingdom of Gwynedd and past the walls of Dinas Emrys, then across the Menai Strait and onto Ynys Mon, then to the Holy Isle set against the vast Western Oceans. Here it was said the Elvan Forges were once sited at the portal to Annwn, and in those ruins would be found the home of the Grandmaster Smith, Wayland.

But in these deserted ruins I found no great Smith of Yore, the rains had turned the ashes to mud, but the cracked stonework still showed the blackened mark of flame. A force had been here and broken this site. I knelt in the mire and pulled forth a black banner, that of Le Fay, of the men of her dead son Medraut, Mordred as some called him, had been here first.

Was that the end, before it had begun? Had I failed and lost these children unto Morgawse? Then a small figure came before me; that of a young girl not long turned to womanhood. She said she was the Maid of the Three Sisters, and knew of my task. I asked her how she could know of this, and she said that she was privy to the knowledge of Merddyn, advisor to my Liege, and it had been her sister the Mother of the Three whom had taken Caladfwlch for me at the lake. I asked her for her name and she said that I could call her Nimue.

I said that I had failed in my task, but she said not to worry, for although the children were lost to this land, this land was also lost to Messah. And with the finding of the children, a new kingdom would rise, ready for the Pendragons return.

I said that I knew not how I could help, for I was a warrior, not a wet nurse, and at this she laughed, stating only a man could be so blinded to the world.

Then she recounted a tale of what had gone before.

?In the Time of Mists, during the final years of the reign of the Pendragon, Wayland, the Elf Smith of Ynys Mons, the Sacred Isle, was called upon by the head of the Council of Druids, Merddyn, to forge seven swords of power to defend the realm, for he saw that the Pendragons? days were numbered.

?Wayland called upon all of his skills, and forged swords in the image of the Kings own sword, Caladfwlch, known also as Caliburn, and named by historians later as Excalibur.

?The swords he forged were mere shadows of Caladfwlch, for the Hard Lightning had been given to the Pendragon by the Immortals, and was forged of mythrll and star stone, being passed to him by the Lady of the Lake to replace the sword of Kingship, once pulled from the stone, that had broken in battle.

?But still, he poured his heart into the crafting of these blades, added his essence to them, so much so that he dimmed the light of his Elven soul in the doing, and became lessened in this Realm, soon to pass from this world.

?As he rested, a Lady of noble birth came upon his workshop. She was Morgana le Fay, Queen of Gore, half sister to the Pendragon, and mother of his mortal enemy Mordred. She had earlier stolen Caladfwlch from the King, but had been thwarted by his knights, though she hid the scabbard from them, that stopped him taking wounds in battle.

?She had heard of the forging of the blades, and had sought out the Smith, to pervert them to her cause. As he slept she worked ancient rituals over them, and bound to the blades seven Daemons of Power, namely Elidor, Beleth, Flaures, Morax, Solas, Orias and Albion, with the purpose of arming Mordred?s lieutenants with them, that they be able to defeat Pendragon and his Knights.

?But Wayland had woken as she worked, and seeing that it was too late to stop the binding, worked a charm with the last of his powers. He cast a spell upon each blade, that they could only be bore by humbled Knights, men of Virtue, who lived their lives by the Old Code, men who were joined by blood to the Great Wyrm, Messah, whose tail encompassed the world, and whose breath was the source of all magic in the Realm.

?Morgana awoke from her trance, and as Wayland faded into the eternal night, saw what he had done, and in a rage she cast the swords into the veil of mists, scattered to the wild places of the beyond, away from the eyes of men.?

?So the children are swords?? I asked.

?Yes, but so much more. They are a sign of things to come, empowered by the heart of the men who carry them.?

I said I knew of the Lady Le Fay, and had battled her minions many a year, and would go to the lengths of the earths to hold true to the word I had given my Liege, but I knew not of this Code of which she spoke, and had not the power of spirit to journey the Mists between worlds.

She said that I had all the qualities of one of Arthur?s Knights, but to take to the road that followed I would need to become more, and in doing so become less. She would take me to one who would instruct me so, and on the way she would take me through trials to prepare my spirit for the journey beyond.

I did not understand what she meant but followed regardless, and as she summoned mounts as if from nowhere, so we started our journey south.

We crossed the Menai Straits again and followed close to the coastline, then cut inside to a small lake, reflecting the mountains of Dinas beyond. Nimue told me that this was Dinas Emrys, a sacred pool where once Vortigern had tried to hide the throne of Britain. We waited until nightfall and she bade me disrobe and cleanse myself in the waters, to give up my life before, and answer her one question; who was I?

I bathed in the icy waters, cleansed myself of the grim of battle and travel, washed the blood that had caked my hair away, and answered in a proud cry ?I am Bedivere, noble Knight of the Round Table, Royal Constable of Camulod and Cup Bearer to the King!?

She turned, and power burned in her eyes. ?Your Knighthood is forfeit, your table is broken!? she turned, with ancient power in her eyes, and snarled.

?I am Bedivere, noble Knight of the Round Table, Royal Constable of Camulod and Cup Bearer to the King!? I returned with more resolve.

?Your laws are banished!?

Again, ?I am Bedivere, noble Knight of the Round Table, Royal Constable of Camulod and Cup Bearer to the King!?

?Your castle burns!?

?I ? I am Bedivere, noble Knight of the Round Table, Royal Constable of Camulod and Cup Bearer to the King!? I faltered.

?Your cup is cracked, your King is dead!? she hissed, the venom of her words piercing my very soul.

?Then ? I am no one.?

The words broke me; all I had followed, all I had fought for, all I had believed in was gone. The golden age of Britain was over. The land was now in the hands of fell men. I should have died at Camlann with my Liege and my brothers, but instead I lived on, hanging on to the last words of a dead king.

I fell back into the cold waters of the lake, wishing that she would rise up and take me, as once the lady of another lake had taken Caladfwlch. I felt soft arms close around me, and draw me to the surface. ?My sister Niniane does not call you yet, Bedwyr, and where all else has failed, your word holds true.? A tender voice spoke. It was Nimue, her tone now gentle, soothing, soft as the breast she drew me to, and I cried in her embrace, as I hadn?t since childhood. As finally the tears left me, I felt the warmth of her body against me, around me, within me. And as my lips met hers, it was as if the pool illuminated itself from the full moons light.

That night we were joined, but in the morning she was cold to me as the winters day we had met. My hand sought hers, but she warned ?Stay true to your vows Bedwyr, true to your word.?

We headed south in silence. By midday she turned to the east, and we headed up into the mountains. By the eve we were reaching the foothills of Cader Idris. Finally she broke her peace, and said that I had to climb to the peak by midnight, some three thousand feet, and stay until dawn?s rays fell upon me.

I had known of this peak by legend; some called it the bards? peak, all knew it to be haunted. Most who stayed here until sunrise lost their minds, some very few returned with the bards tongue. I took in her cold stare for some seconds, then dismounted and started at a run up the slopes of Cader Idris.

Hours later, exhausted, I reached the summit and found a stone to rest on.

As the moon reached its zenith, my breath returned. I took in the scene around me, the crest of the great mound lit in grays by silver light; far below one single campfire in the wilderness. But as I watched, a mist formed around me.

As my sight was obscured, slowly voices formed around me; wails on the night breeze, growing more intense as the minutes went on. The mist started to spin, and shapes formed around me. Soon, ghostly forms of wraiths and banshees surrounded me, the wails screaming within my ears until I edged unto the brink of insanity. This night would be the end of me, and all I had strived for.

Then one point of light formed in front of me, one ghostly form, and as I thought my sanity would finally leach away, it reached out and touched my cheek, and I felt warmth run through me.

I looked up and saw my Liege, glorious as he had been in life, made more so in his illuminated form. He smiled and I felt comforted, and then began to fade. Before he had gone completely from sight, he whispered, ?Stay true to your word and your vows? listen, and speak only of those who demand it.?

So I sat in the circle of ghosts, calmed by my Lieges? words, and as the screams ran around me, I heard words, though I could not quite make them out. As the night ran through this continued, though I lost not my nerve, striving to hear what they called to me with no succesu find a squire to pass on the Old Codes of Pendragon. Here is Llamrai, the mount of your Liege; he served Arthur well, and shall serve you likewise.

?Seek your squire once seven ages have passed you, for now Messah shall extend your existence in her service, and pass down the words you have learned in the Cavern of Mushrooms in the land of Virtues. All that you carry shall be all that you own, and you shall not know a home, nor shall you kith until the seventh in the line of your Order is drawn back here, and the time of the Swords is upon us. He shall prepare the seven sword bearers for the coming of the King.?

And so rode from that place, and have ridden the roads of this land for near three hundred summers, and now teach the words once told to me to another, that he can continue the Order when I am returned to my Nimue?s side.

We are the Knights of the Road, the followers of the Old Code of Pendragon, holders of the Arthurian Code, descended of the Knights of the Grail and the Round Table, and servants of Messah. We are the first; we shall be the last. We are always true knights of the land and await the return of the once and future King.

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