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The Sword of Mordred: Part IV
- The Sword of Mordred: Part IV -
Upon the first warm week of springtime, as per my aunt Morgan's suggestion, I conferred with her at some length about the details of the quest that I was about to undertake for her. She sat across from me at a small round wooden table in one of the lounging rooms off of her tower's main hall. As the servants rushed about performing their tasks, I waited to hear what direction it was in which I would need to go forth, and what my destination might be. Morgan smiled at me, her chalk white face beautifully framed by her raven black hair... her black eyes sparkling mysteriously. She was well named, in being called as she was “The Fey”. She produced a pile of maps and ancient looking parchments... some of which were written in welsh, with others being written in Latin. At last... she pointed to one of the maps and said to me, somewhat eagerly: “This is the plan, Mordred! You will ride forth from here alone, and you are not to journey with any caravans or other sort of protectors this time. Your sword Albion will suffice! Once you leave the immediate vicinity of the Golden Woods, you will want to journey to the easternmost of the borders of the kingdom of Lyonesse. Cross into that land from there, and then make your way first to the west and then to the north. There, you should find a place that is like unto a wasteland... it is not known why the land there is so afflicted, and the locals believe it is due to a dreadful curse. But within that part of Lyonesse there is supposedly an ancient castle from the days when Bran the Blessed still did walk the earth in flesh. If he has been reborn or not, I could not say. But at any rate, no one seems to at all know who actually owns that castle, though it is said to be a group of men and women who disguise themselves beneath long robes and hooded cloaks. Most likely druids, since monks would not have any women among their number. I suspect that this is where you will discover the head of Bran the Blessed. Everything, including several local legends, all point towards this! Once you have the head, you will be wanting to bring it back here to me as swiftly as possible. I have given the matter some thought, and it is for the best if I then bring it to the temple on the isle of Avalon, so that the sisters there can seal it for all eternity beyond the reach of men. Bran was never of this world, never truly, and I think he would so desire for his head... that being all that remains of him any longer... to be brought into the realms of the other world of Faerie, which his divine kin await to receive him. This will end his long vigil as one of the guardian spirits of the land, and allow your father Arthur to take his place. Which seems to be what Arthur actually wants for himself, after all. Prepare well for your journey, take whatever you require for it from the tower here... we've plenty of excess supplies in the cellars just in case... and guard yourself, as you make your way to that castle in Lyonesse. None who have returned from there were sane after it, and whatever they experienced there could not have been wholly of this world. This shall be your first true test of courage as a knight! Not, a knight of the Round Table... but, a knight in service to me. If you do survive this... and if I thought you would not, I'd not risk sending you forth... then it will prove to me and to yourself, that you are all that I suspect you to be. Perhaps even more!” She then fell silent, and I said to her after that: “I will accomplish this quest you set before me, Morgan! You will see that in me, you have chosen well for your champion.” to which the pale woman responded: “My champion? I, did not say I needed one! But you will do, my love. You will do nicely, I think.” and we kissed passionately as I held her in my arms one last time before beginning to ready myself for setting out. She spoke with a few of her servants, those ones of them who also seemed to be acolytes of her spiritual order, and I left her to whatsoever it was she conferred with them regarding. I dressed myself in a loose, baggy pair of ankle-length white trousers that were tied at the waist and ankles with drawstring. Tucked into those, I wore a comfortable sleeveless white blouse that laced up in the front, over which I put on a red leather vest. I fastened a leather belt about my waist, and affixed the sheath of my sword to it. I put on a pair of comfortable sandals, and wore over my garments of scarlet red cloak that went perfectly with my vest. It was simple, comfortable clothing for spring travel. I was not expecting any sort of combat, but if I did encounter any trouble... at least I would have more freedom of movement, than if I wore heavier armor.
Before I set out upon the road, Morgan granted me the use of her personal steed... a large black horse with a red saddle upon his black. She also gave me a strange amulet to wear. It was ancient looking, on a thin silver chain, and was essentially a round medallion on which was etched deeply the image of an eye. In the middle of the eye was a single red ruby that sparkled fantastically in the light. “This is quite the beautiful piece of jewelry!” I remarked, adding: “Thank you for such a gift.” to which she replied in a serious tone of voice: “It is old, and powerful! An artifact from the other world, to keep you safe and to remind you of your ties to that realm. For the course of this quest, do not take it off! And if you must then keep it at least on you at all times. So long as you possess it, no harm can befall you in either body or in spirit. But do not be reckless! It aids the wise, but never the foolish. Be well, my love!” and she so saw me off from the stables, which were adjacent to the tower itself. All my supplies were placed in the horse's saddlebags, and I had rested well the evening before, tending to any and all personal needs prior to actually departing upon my way. It was a long ride, and many days journey across the length and the breadth of the land, or at the very least that was how things seemed to be. I stopped at inns to rest, and I told no one where I was bound. The roads I chose were always well patrolled by the local militias and other fighting men, and bandits and other outlaws shied away from them, preferring back roads and old trails that were away from the sight of the common people. They also mostly struck at night, and that is why I made certain to reach complete safety upon sunset of each day. I lost track of time, and in the end I cannot say if it was days or a good week before I reached the border of Lyonesse. The roads to get to that place were long, winding, and sometimes less straightforward than I had anticipated. The skies did seem to be always blue, the air filled with the spring blossoms... and the feel of the sun warm but not at all hot upon my skin. It was wonderful now that winter was over! Snow was melting everywhere, often forming great puddles both on and off of the roads. It was not raining at all during my journey, and that was a tremendous comfort for me... since I despised the rain almost as much as I hated the winter. Most of the folk I met upon the road minded their own business, and those who did not I ignored entirely. It was a lonely way to travel, but as a knight of the Round Table I had become used to such long travels in my time. Sometimes, the nameless goddess who was within my sword would speak to me and say that she was becoming hungry, or thirsty. I did not wish to feed her, or slake her thirst! For she thirsted only for blood, and devoured souls in order to send them to the other world. After asking for directions on a great many occasions, I finally reached the easternmost borders of the kingdom of Lyonesse. It was, as Morgan had said, easy enough to know that I was in the right place... because all of the borders of that kingdom were patrolled by tall men who wore shining breastplates that looked as if they were made of silver and gold. And they wore shining helms, and carried mighty lances with bright tips, wearing also cloaks of azure blue with golden trim. They looked magnificent, and were said to be elegant and mighty men of arms who followed intricate codes of honor, and who served the ancient gods and goddesses of the land. There were some Christians who also dwelt in Lyonesse, but they practiced a peculiar form of Christianity that was said to have come originally from Greece and which was highly mystical in nature and more like magic than actual faith. I had never met a Christian mystic before, and to be honest I did not wish to meet one now. Their faith often empowered them to look upon us Pagan folk with anger as oft as not, and so I wondered what might magic also empower them to do in the name of their deity? It disturbed me too much to consider even thinking about, and I put the notion from my head right away. I approached the border calmly, and nodded politely to the guards as I crossed into Lyonesse. One of the guards rode over to me for a moment, and asked of me: “One moment of your time, stranger! What, if it is not too much trouble to ask, might be your business here in Lyonesse? We've had some knights come hither from Camelot, in search of the Holy Grail, or so they claimed... and they did not leave well at all when they left the borders of our land. I hope at least, that your business is something saner, or perhaps at least less foolhardy. What say you, sir?” and I had to admit... the guard was a very calmly polite man.
I said unto him: “Actually... I am here to have a look at one of your places of worship. I am actually a pilgrim of sorts, and a follower of the old ways of my ancestors. I have heard, that Lyonesse is still very much a place where such pilgrims might be welcome. Is this well with you?” to which the guard smiled in a friendly manner, noticing the amulet I wore about my neck. He then said: “I can see that your faith is indeed as you claim it to be! Welcome then, stranger... to our fair land. You will find it much to your liking, I hope. May the gods and goddesses of old ever bring you their blessings!” That was all he had to say, and soon I was well upon my way, traveling in the direction that Morgan had told me would be the best in order to reach the wasteland of which she spoke. The lands of Lyonesse were pleasant, to be sure, with grassy green fields filled with the first flowers of the year. The woods were not deep or dark, but seemed somewhat delightful in an idyllic sort of way. If there was anything to dislike regarding this kingdom, at least at first glance, it could be said to appear to be too perfect. In my experience, if there did seem to be anything that felt this way... it often proved to be the opposite of perfect in the end. Thus I was wary, and watchful, as I continued along upon my quest. I spotted only small animals and smiling travelers as I rode along, and began to wonder if perhaps there was not a wasteland here after all. Not a thing about the land so far indicated that anything here was less than paradise-like in terms of splendor. The buildings of the towns and villages that I crossed through were of the old Roman style, and were of a size and grandeur to rival anything elsewhere in the entire country. The people I saw were all dressed well, and seemed remarkably happy. If anything, they seemed too happy for this to be real! But it was not a bad thing, for a folk to know peace to such an extent, even if it was jarring given I came from a part of the country where conflict was frequent. I once stopped a man to ask him why he was so happy, and he said unto me: “Why should I not be? Ever since the druids brought some sort of sacred artifact to the castle in the wasteland, we've known nothing but peace in the land. I do not know, if I believe the claims that the object is magical in nature, or not... but we've not even had so much as a crime reported as being committed within the boundaries of Lyonesse entire, ever since. That is a cause for joy, I say!” I smiled back at him, for he was grinning most contentedly, and I bid him farewell as I continued along on my way to the wasteland. It was not hard to discover the way, since everyone seemed to know it by heart. All of this was a great deal easier than I had imagined it would turn out to be, and that is what I found so distressing about it. If it was so easy to get to that castle, then what was it that drove men mad one they set foot within its' walls? I was not looking forward to finding out, but like it or not there was no turning back for me at this point. Not now that I was almost there. Soon enough, the green and ideal looking landscape gave way to a vast stretch of first barren looking soil and rocky dirt from which not a thing seemed to grow... and then, a sandy area that looked like a small desert more than anything else. I saw dead trees every now and then, and dry plants... the air was warmer here, and the scent of any sort of spring flowers and blossoms was quite distant. Hawks could be seen in the sky every so often, but I noticed that even they had to range far in order to hunt for food. This was a forsaken place, and clouds of dust blew across it every so often. Something had indeed afflicted this part of the land, for it was a most unnatural sight, to see such desolation in the midst of an otherwise green and healthy landscape. In the distance, finally I could see the castle that I had come in search of. It was the only thing there to be seen, surrounded as it was on all sides by a high wall made of white stone and brick. It was a grand looking fortress, what I could see of it beyond the wall, with high towers and strong looking walls. It resembled a temple as much as a castle, and had elements of ancient Roman architecture to it. This was a place from another, far older, time... and as soon as I drew close I could detect the scent of flowers, of blossoms, and of trees coming from behind the encircling wall. There was likely a garden, there... and I could hear the singing of birds, which delighted me after seeing the awfulness of those wastes. I found a part in the outer wall into which a mighty looking reinforced wooden gate was set. There were not any guards at the gate, or upon the wall... but something made me feel quite nervous, about approaching it.
I knocked upon the gate first, and then when there was no answer I called out to whoever might be in the castle, declaring that I was a pilgrim come to learn from the druids who dwelt there. There was still no answer, and so I tested the gate to see if it was locked. Seeing that it was not, I pushed it open and I saw that indeed there was a magnificent garden upon the other side of the wall, with paths running all through it and a great paved road leading all the way up to the door of the castle's keep. I spotted many animals in the garden, mostly small and peaceful ones, and could see many different types of birds that made their homes in the trees there. I saw a beautiful young girl sitting in the garden, upon a bench of the whitest marble. She wore a long flowing pink gown with white trim, and her gown had long, wide sleeves. She was slender, her face cherubic and sweet looking, her eyes filled with childlike innocence. Those eyes were a bright blue shade, and she was singing happily to herself I could hear. Her hair was a golden blonde color, and she had it tied up in a high ponytail that kept it away from her face. She had plump lips, and big eyes, as well as light skin that was normal in tone and nothing at all like the chalk white of my own flesh. She looked about somewhat nervously as I approached, and she began to fidget a bit with her fingers when I drew near. She could not have been any older then eleven years old. She said to me, her voice high and lilting in that way that little girls' voices most often are: “So, I take it you are come from Camelot as well then? Probably in search of the Holy Grail, I should think! Well sir, it is my duty to inform you that you will be tested. And, if you are found lacking... you will either perish, or go mad. There is nothing else for it.” She batted her long eyelashes a bit rapidly after saying that, in a way that further betrayed how frightened she actually was. I said unto her: “Child, I have not come to seek the Holy Grail... and I am not arrived here from Camelot either. My name, is Mordred... and I have come to seek the head of Bran the Blessed, which is believed by some to lie within yonder castle. I do this at the urging of my aunt Morgan the Fey, who wishes to take the head to the other world of Faerie so that the spirit of Bran may finally rest in peace.” The little girl was trembling a bit, and beginning to rock back and forth. She did not reply to me, and only kept rocking back and forth like that. I put my hand upon her shoulder, and asked her in a kind tone of voice: “Child... what is the matter? Why are you so frightened! I have never seen anyone appear so terrified before.” She then growled at me in a feral way that was quite similar to an animal, and bared her teeth as she said something in a bizarre and guttural sounding language that I could not understand. Her eyes appeared mad in that instant, and her hands became stiff in their movements, her fingers almost like unto claws. She began to shake about in a very violent way, and I wrapped my arms about her as I sat down on the bench next to her. “Please be well, little girl! Please be well.” I prayed aloud, to whatever might be listening to such prayers. Soon, as I held her like that, she began to calm down, and then said unto me: “Mordred, you said your name is? I am pleased to meet you... so very pleased indeed! My name is Cassia, and I am the daughter of the great sorceress Kundry. Normally, it is she herself who sees to the trials and testing of any knights who come here upon what quest it is that brings them hither... but she said that the man she beheld in her latest of visions would be best received by me, and that I was to be the one to see to his testing instead of her. I know that you are he, because she said he would be a man whose skin was as white as snow. I do not at all know why she thought I should see to this, but she never errs with her visions. Never! And so, it will fall to me after all. It will fall to me, because it must.” and she got to her feet and offered me her hand. “Come on, Mordred!” she said, adding: “Take my hand, I will not bite you... not yet, anyway.” But the way she said that filled me with a slight dread. I took her hand in mine, and she led me through the vast gardens, showing me all of the gardens' splendors. Eventually, we reached a shaded archway very close to the wall of the castle keep and there she asked me a strange question. “Would you give your life for another, if the cause was good?” to which I replied: “That is one of my oaths as a knight! But if it was to be proven that the cause was not good, then I would not give my life for it.” The little girl then began giggling a bit, which then turned into a sweet sounding laugh. “Really?” she asked, and then ran away.
She ran back into the garden... and I chased after her. “Wait a moment, Cassia! Where are you going? Come back, I have questions for you.” I called out, and soon I spotted her by the bench once more. But two men stood there wearing long brown hooded robes, and I could make out nothing of their faces or the features thereof. They carried sickles in their hands, and one of them said loudly to the other one in a gruff sounding voice: “Come, brother! We shall sacrifice this maiden, and her blood will nourish the soil. Then, we will sacrifice the white stranger as well. But his blood... we shall drink of!” I approached the two men, drawing my blade... the white sword Albion... from its' sheath. I proclaimed: “You will be dead, before you can draw the little girl's blood! And as for mine... why, would you want to drink of it? Are you devils, rather than men, that you drink blood and seek to snuff out a child's life!” The men did seem to freeze in their tracks, and the one who spoke before explained: “You have the blood of the Fair Folk within you, or so the sorceress claims! Everyone in our order, knows that such blood can be made to extend a mortal's life if it is transmuted through the correct sort of alchemy.” I pointed to them with my sword, and warned them as follows: “If it is blood you crave, then it is devils you are! It shall very much please me, to give you both plenty of blood to drink... but it shall be your own, not mine, that you will choke upon this day. Come! Albion would like to meet you, and her thirst is far greater than your own. Are you both men, or cowards? Come, I say!” but they appeared reluctant to attack me once they saw what blade it was I held. The first man screamed and put up a rather meager defense as I cut off his hand and sent the sickle it carried flying. As he clutched his missing limb, and the blood poured out of the gory stump where his hand had been... I spun and slashed at the other man, who jumped backward a bit and nearly lost his footing. Cassia ran away from the two men and stood a good distance away. She watched as I fought, her eyes wide with terror. The second man fought a bit better than the first, and he seemed to have plenty of energy to spare as well. His attempts to deflect my attacks were pathetic for the most part, but he was slippery like a rat and just as hard to catch. He hid behind a tree at one point, thinking to trick me into catching my blade upon it, but I knew his tactics well. The tactics of a fool and a coward! I refused to swing for as long as he remained behind the tree, and so I said unto him: “Sir, it seems we are at an impasse! You cannot strike at me from behind that tree, and I will not strike at you unless you come out from behind it. Would you dance like this all day, or face your death like a man?” He growled in a savage way, and leaped out from behind the tree, a move that I could see coming well in advance. I rushed out of his way, and spun around... slashing his left side with my sword, in such a way that the blood sprayed outward from the wound I inflicted upon him. He transferred his sickle to his left hand, and clutched at his open side with his right hand. That was all the time I needed in order to finish him... I struck his head cleanly off of the man's shoulders, and he crumbled to the floor with his blood gushing forth from where his head used to be. I then ran over to the other man, who was on the ground moaning and attempting to get the blood to stop pouring out from where his missing hand once was. I struck my sword deep into him, but in a way that did not at first kill him. He was screaming in a way that was actually quite pathetic: “Please, it is so cold! Colder than winter, colder than ice... do not kill me with that sword. Please! Let me die, like a man.” and I spat in his face... for just as with the other man, his hood fell back during the fight and I saw that he and his companion had been human and not devils after all. The worst sort of humans, to desire to spill a child's blood! I so said to him in a cold tone that matched well with the freezing metal of my sword's unnatural blade: “You want to die like a man, you say? You should have lived like one then! A real man does not spill the blood of a child. And a real man does not beg for his life when he knows that his end is near. Accept your death with courage, and pray that Albion will send your worthless soul to a place where it might know peace. For my part? I hope you burn in the worst sort of hell that any devil could send you to.” I then stabbed my sword deep into the man's neck, before stabbing him through his heart as well. My sword cleaved even through the bone of the man's ribs as if they had been hardly there at all, and thereafter he lay slain upon the ground.
I walked over to Cassia, and sheathed my sword so that she would not have to look upon it. I took her into my arms and hugged her tightly and warmly, stroking her hair as I said to her sweetly: “There, you are safe now, little girl! Those men will not harm you. No men shall, so long as I draw breath. If it be... that you desire to be free of this evil place... then I can take you back with me to my home. It is far and well across many roads distance from Lyonesse... but I swear upon my very blood, the same those men wished to partake of, that I will see that you get there. My aunt would take you in... and to me it would be a far greater treasure, to take from this place, than a dead man's head.” The little girl then looked up at me with her angelic face, and said to me in a serene tone... managing it through her tears that she was crying: “Would that I could join you in your home, and call that home mine as well! For you are a kind, honorable, and compassionate man Mordred. You have passed the first test, and won my favor... and, if truth be told, my heart. Would that I could give it to you! What a prize I would make for you to take to your home, and you are the first knight who has come to this place and not wished to partake of any of its' treasures. Would you claim me, if you could?” And there was something in the way she worded that last bit, which I found almost enticing. I whispered to her, leaning in close so that she could hear me in as clear a way as possible: “Cassia! Sweet little girl that you are... I would indeed claim you, if you did desire for me to. In any way that you desired it. What is it that you are asking of me?” to which she thus replied in a far more adult way than I had expected from her: “For myself, I am asking nothing of you at all, and from you I desire nothing whatsoever! I am asking you what it is that you truly desire. For some men are known to prefer grown women, and the charms only a grown woman can present a man with... whilst others, are known to favor youth rather than experience... and to find innocence more alluring to them than outright seduction. What kind of man are you, Mordred?” Her questioning of me was taking a turn into a place I had never considered before. I had never given much thought, to what it was that I most found desirable in a woman, or in a girl. I spoke honestly to Cassia as I admitted to her: “I find in a beautiful child like yourself, much that is alluring to me... and much that stirs my loins, if my saying so does not offend you to hear me speak it so plainly. But also, I find the charms of a grown woman to be much to my liking. If you were mine, then I would savor the beauty of your youth and the delights of your young body! But I want you to know that when you do grow up, my love for you will not lessen... and I will discover new delights that you shall come to possess, which will please me greatly. Love, is what I would feel for you... not mere lust. And unlike lust... I believe that love is eternal.” The child did appear to be well satisfied with my answer. She nervously cleared her throat, and then said unto me: “I, if I might be honest with you Mordred... I am expected to seduce you, actually. My mother was insistent that I attempt to corrupt your soul, and to use the fact that you actually do like girls my age in the same way that you like adult women. I was to use that, in order to bring out the beast in you if possible. For it is said that only a man or woman who is pure in body, mind, heart and soul can touch the Holy Grail. In indulging one's darkest impulses, one becomes wholly unworthy of it. She must have thought, that your quest was the same as those who came here before you... all of whom she herself did attempt to seduce. But for some reason, she believed that I might fare better in your case. That is why I asked you the sort of questions that I did... to know if you felt lovingly or lustfully towards me.” I then took her hand in my own and squeezed it tenderly as I admitted to her: “It is both, Cassia. For me, love is always both. I cannot lust after a woman whom I could not also love! And I prefer not to love a woman unless I also feel some measure of lust for her. That, is how I think I am beginning to love you... in that very way.” This made her grow very silent and she seemed quite depressed after hearing me say this to her. After a bit, she said to me: “I do not want to be a slave here any longer! I do want you to take me back with you to your home, Mordred. Oh, I really truly do! But, so long as the head of the god Bran is here... so long as the spear which wounded him is here... and so long as the Holy Grail is here, I can never be free to leave. I, am sworn to serve those three things, and my mother is the priestess who keeps those things.”
I then offered the little girl a possible solution: “Then let me destroy those three things! A head can be cleaved in two... even the head of a god. A spear can be broken or cut in half, even the most magical of spears. And a cup or a chalice can be consumed by fire, even if it be made from gold. As for she who is your mother... even a sorceress can be slain, if that is what you want. Do you love her, or is she cruel to you, causing you to despise her?” to which Cassia answered honestly: “No, I do not love my mother! I find her to be detestable, wicked, selfish and indeed exceedingly cruel. She rules over the dark druids of this place with an iron will, and could not care less what happens to me so long as she gets to keep her treasures to herself. Only the worthy, she claims, may touch them! But no one is ever worthy, and none who have ever come here were allowed to leave unscathed, with their minds intact. If she were to meet her end, I would not weep for her. But if the treasures she guards were to be destroyed, she would lose all her power... for that power derives solely from them. The druids here would also lose their power! In deriving power from the treasures of this castle, they have turned their backs upon the old gods and the old goddesses of the land itself. That is why the surrounding land has become a horrid waste, and that is so also why one day this garden will perish. But without the things that are doing this, to the land... the earth could begin to heal, and the evil curse that is upon it would be broken. Will you do this, Mordred? Will you set me free and heal the land!” So passionately and zealously did she speak, that I could feel the power of her words filling me with courage. I said to her: “I swear to you, upon the sacred names of the old gods and goddesses who have been forsaken here... I will destroy the treasures of this place and set you free. If that also causes the land to heal someday, then so be it!” On hearing me say that, Cassia was delighted and hopped up and down... clapping her hands delightedly. She reminded me of my aunt Morgan, who always clapped her hands like that also. I liked very much, that she reminded me of her! Then, did the young girl say unto me, her tone becoming almost imperious: “Excellent, my knight! For you are in my service now. Will you grant a kiss to your fair lady before she leads you forth into danger once again?” I had longed to from the moment I set my eyes upon her. I seized her eagerly, and pressed my lips upon hers, forcing a passionate kiss upon the little girl's lovely lips. She sighed a bit, as we did part from that kiss, and I noticed that I had picked her up off the ground during our embrace. I did then set her back down, and smile at her lovingly. She smiled back, and wiped her mouth off with one of the sleeves of her gown, before saying: “My knight is passionate indeed! Follow me, Mordred... I will lead you to the chambers where the three sacred treasures are kept.” She then led me back along the side of the castle's keep once again... and this time we proceeded further and made our way to a side door that led into the keep itself. We passed through a series of kitchens, storage rooms, and servants' quarters. I saw no servants there, and found how empty everything was to be quite strange, given that an order of dark druids was supposed to be living in this keep, in addition to a wicked sorceress. There was plenty of food to be seen, and supplies aplenty as well, but there were no people. I mentioned this to Cassia as we went along through all these chambers, and she told me: “The reason there are no servants, is due to the fact that the druids will not trust any... and so they have to serve themselves. More work for them, I suppose, but less of a risk of any accidental or intentional thefts.” That, seemed a sound reason to me... so I did not worry any further about the matter. I focused instead on going only where the little girl did tell me to, and with her as my guide I was able to navigate the maze-like interior of the keep. There was little planning to how all the rooms were thus laid out, and it seemed as if the entire place was designed to be as confusing as possible for anyone attempting to infiltrate it. Stairways led up or down always in places where it made the least sense to have them, and there were shafts set into the floor in places that appeared to exist solely to make it possible to fall down them if one was not being cautious. Cassia was able to show me exactly where the shafts were each and every time. She knew this entire place by heart, having clearly lived in it for her entire young life. I could not imagine living in such a place even for a day! It was maddening... and, I realized this was part of what had broken the minds of those other men.
Those men, who had come here before me... whether knights or pilgrims or adventurers... they had all taken leave of their senses. But they did not have Cassia to help them, either! I asked her why it was we had not yet seen any of the druids thus far save for the two men I had fought outside. She explained it to me thus: “They are busy in the keep's under chambers right now, preparing for tonight's rites and rituals when my mother shall lead them in partaking of the treasures' powers. For only in those dark recesses... can they muster enough evil magic, to further corrupt the treasures, and also the land along with them.” We soon began to descend along several stairways, and we drew very near to the place where the druids were... because I could hear them chanting, and the sound of their chants grew louder and louder as this did echo through the keep's labyrinthine halls. I was grateful that at least everything was well it, with a great many torches, candles, and braziers. Traveling through these halls in shadow would have been all the more frightening, especially now with that chanting resounding the way that it did. This felt sinister in the extreme, and I was happy when we veered away from the direction of the chanting at last. We did ascend up more stairs, and then more after that, and soon were climbing a stone stairwell that ascended one of the keep's towers. The stairs led up into the highest chamber of that tower... wherein I saw upon the floor of the room an inverted pentagram which had been drawn using blood. In the middle of it was a crude looking stone altar over which was draped a spotless white cloth. Upon that cloth, was laid an old looking spear which had a sharp metal tip that looked to have seen far better days. Though still very sharp looking, the spear tip was charred as if from tremendous heat. Otherwise, the weapon was rather unremarkable and would likely be for the most part useless in combat. So old was the wood of the spear that it looked almost wholly rotted in places. “That is the spear of Bran's wounding.” the little girl said to me. She then pointed to an alcove which was set into the far wall. Within the alcove there was a bit of a deeper recess... and within that recess I could see a human skull which had no longer any trace of flesh left upon it. A crown was set upon the skull, and the crown itself looked exceedingly ancient. “In that alcove, rests the head of Bran the Blessed himself.” Cassia revealed, and to be honest I had been so expecting a great deal more than a simple skull. But what else could be left of Bran's head after so long a time since his death? Sitting upon a divan, next to the alcove... was a dark skinned little girl who had black curly shoulder length hair which framed an elegantly beautiful face. She had an aquiline nose, full lips, and deep brown eyes. Her face was freckled and smiling as she noticed my companion and I. This girl was about a year older than Cassia, and she wore a long flowing white skirt which had tucked into it a short sleeved blouse of the same color. She was stocky of build, and had an earthy way about her. I noticed that her beauty was enhanced with cosmetics... makeup of the sort that only queens sometimes favored. Or, prostitutes. She reclined upon the divan like an empress, and the way that she gazed upon me felt as if her intense eyes could peer deeply into my very soul. She held a golden platter in her hands that was covered in old, dried blood. She was also barefoot, unlike Cassia who wore a pair of soft pink slippers. The dark girl took the platter and got up from the divan, walking over to the alcove containing the skull. She removed the skull from its' place... and put the platter there, placing the skull on top of it after doing so. Then, she walked back to the divan and retrieved a golden chalice that was decorated in a most splendid manner with six sparkling emerald gemstones. I assumed that the chalice was the Holy Grail, and told Cassia as much. She then corrected me in a shocking manner, telling me: “You thought the same thing that everyone who ever came here believed! And it is wrong... it is not the cup which is in fact the true Holy Grail, but rather it is the maiden who holds it in her hands. For in her veins lies the blood of the man whom the Christians call Jesus the Christ.” I walked over to the grail maiden, and I so asked of her: “What is your name? Mine is Mordred, son of Arthur.” She then said unto me... in a voice that sounded almost playful: “It is good to meet you, Mordred son of Arthur! My name is Judith, and I am the latest to carry the sacred blood within my veins. I serve in this place as my mother did before me and when I have a daughter one day, if I am blessed with one, then she shall eventually take my place.”
She had a strange, exotic sounding accent to her voice. I knew much of Christianity although I did not choose to follow it, being a child of the old ways. And so I said unto Judith: “I have heard it said that in truth the king himself, Arthur, is linked to the Holy Grail in some way. That he and the land he rules are one, and that the Holy Grail holds the power to either heal the land or to destroy it utterly. How could it be, that you possess such power... being merely a child as you are?” And, she answered my question as directly as she could, stating: “I know Arthur quite well, and I can see something of him in you. I can... see the identical intensity of spirit, that he possesses. Is it power, that men destroy the land themselves, and then say it is I who caused it to be accursed? Is it power, that when it heals after they cease to harm the natural world, then nature returns and with it harmony far greater than before? I possess no power! I do not keep the inhabitants of this keep from leaving, nor do I wish myself to dwell here. Of old, I had a home with the sisters of Avalon, and with them I was content. But Kundry decided to keep me here, for she believed that to possess me... was to possess the very power to either curse or heal the land. She is a foolish child, and indeed a child compared to me! I will not say that I am better than she, but at least I am a great deal more mature in my thinking. She plays games with the fools who come here in search of me, and in search of the other two objects I serve as guardian to now! She toys with them, tries to of them learn their innermost heart's desire. And all, so she can twist them to her service... all so that she one day can be free from this keep, to which she believes her spirit is bound. But she is free even now! There are no slaves here... merely servants, some of light such as myself, and some of darkness. Which do you choose to serve, Mordred?” I did not like the way this girl Judith made me feel... when she did speak to me, and when she stared at me the way she did, it felt like I could keep no secrets from her at all. I walked over to the skull and carried it to the altar, placing it thereon. “Is this truly the remains of Bran the Blessed?” I asked the grail maiden... the Grail herself... who stated: “Yes! That is all that still remains of him. As you can see, he does not possess the power to speak any longer... though madmen and fools believe he does, and they claim to hear his voice.” I then exclaimed: “Then they shall hear it no longer!” and I unsheathed my sword and cleaved the skull in half with it. So ferocious was my blow that it also broke the crown in two as well. The sword let forth a loud screeching sound when I did this. Then, I took the halves of the skull and crown, and threw them unto the floor where I crushed the skull beneath my sandals, and mangled the crown further by stomping upon it. I then cleaved the spear in two with my sword, before casting the tip of the spear unto the floor where I brought my sword down upon it with all my might. The spear tip shattered, and once more the sword screeched with glee. “Only one of this keep's treasures remains to be spoiled.” I stated. Cassia was delighted, and rushed over to me. I could see the darkness in the little girl's eyes, and knew that she had no mother here. She, was actually the sorceress Kundry, and she longed with all her heart to be free. I then turned to face her, and asked: “Why do you believe your spirit is bound here by the Grail? Whatever made you come to such an odd thought!” and she said to me excitedly, nervously: “When Merlin first gave the skull of Bran, into my keeping, I could still venture beyond the border of the wasteland without difficulty. When the spear of Bran's wounding was first given into my keeping, I also could still go free. And... when it was Judith's mother who dwelt here, even then could I still find that I was free to come and go as I pleased. But then when her mother died, and I took her away from her home in Avalon to bring her hither so that she may serve me the way that her mother had... the moment she turned ten years old, I discovered that each and every single time I tried to cross beyond the wasteland, I would become violently ill. Only for that sick feeling to go away the moment I returned to the keep once again. This, all started... the moment that she first touched the skull and the spear! She, and they together... possess some terrible power. I mean to be free of it, Mordred... free of it! Yes, I am indeed Kundry... the blood of Bran the Blessed flows strong in my veins as a gift unto me from my father. That, is why I do not age as fast as normal people do... and it is why I still am a child, and shall remain one for some time to come. In all but body... I, am a woman!”
I gazed over at Judith, who looked at me bravely, unafraid... even, when Kundry suggested to me: “It is an easy thing, to set me free! All you need do, is defile the maiden who is the Grail... her power shall cease, when she is no longer a virgin. You need not kill her, simply take her by force. Such a thing will break her spirit, and she will be just like any other mortal then! She will have no more power over me.” I could not believe that I was actually hearing an eleven year old girl demanding that I commit rape on another child. “You are a woman, you say?” I asked Kundry, who exclaimed eagerly: “Yes! And, I will be yours forever after this... think of it, I can remain a child for far longer than a normal girl ever could. I can give you forbidden pleasures the likes of which you have never experienced before! I love you... I need you, Mordred. Please, I beg of you! Set me free.” I kept staring into Judith's eyes, and I asked her one last question. What I asked her was: “Am I damned?” to which she exclaimed sternly: “Yes! And I pity your black soul, for what it is that you are about to do.” That was all I needed to know. Whatever it was that lay within Judith's heart... that heart, was hardened against me already. I could feel how coldly she regarded me compared to the intensity of the warmth that I could feel from Kundry... whose claims of love for me were at least seemingly sincere. Judith then stated: “The king and the land are one! As it sickens, so it is because Arthur's spirit had darkened. The sacred blood does not just course in my flesh, it also courses through the king's... and through you, who are his very son. Whatever happens to me this day, I am not afraid! But you Mordred, shall become the Unholy Grail should you defile me. You shall become the very antithesis of all that I stand for... and in the end it will be as if a serpent had come to so nest at the bosom of Camelot.” I walked over to her, and slapped her hard across the mouth, which she clutched, a look of shock and surprise coming upon her face. I then took the chalice from her hand and I threw it out of one of the tower windows. “No more curses from that mouth of yours, you little bitch!” I said to her cruelly, as I pulled her off of the divan on which she sat. I did press her arms to the floor of the chamber, and I began to kiss her face, and then lick it like an animal might. I wedged myself firmly between her legs, which spread out widely as I did so. I grabbed her by the neck with one hand, as I did tear open her blouse with my other. Her young body looked so soft beneath me... and it felt as soft as it looked, as I touched it. I pulled up her skirt, and tore aside her loincloth... exposing the soft cleft of her maidenhood. She would be a maiden no longer! Her hands clutched the arm by which I held her by the neck, and I cautioned her: “Do not struggle, girl... it would not take much to break your neck.” and she relaxed her grip on my arm, after that. I untied my trousers, and pulled them down, removing the fully erect shaft of my manhood from my loincloth and taking it into my hand. I pushed it inside of the girl, who gasped and cried out in pain as I began to thrust in and out of her over and over again... during the course of which she lost her virginity, which caused some blood to flow between her legs. She cried out even louder, nearly screaming, when that happened... and I felt all resistance cease with her, after that. I removed my hand from her neck, and used my hands to keep her arms fully pinned to the floor as I did push into and out of her with ever greater intensity. She felt moist and wet between her legs, and felt as if she were attempting to grind her hips and actually increase her own pleasure. I kept kissing her face, and passionately kissed her mouth... pressing my tongue into it and savoring the taste of her mouth, of her lips which I licked a bit after ending the kiss. “I drink from the Holy Grail this day!” I proclaimed, nearly drunk with the ecstasy of this vile act I was engaged in. My aunt Morgan had been right... some women, and apparently some girls, enjoyed being taken forcefully. I did climax inside of Judith, and I could feel my warmth filling up inside of her. She cried out one last time, and began to cry quite sadly and bitterly after that. Our intercourse complete, I kissed her face again and stood up from the floor. As I did so, I fixed my clothing so that I was once more decent. I walked back to the altar, where I had left my sword, and placed it back into its' sheath. Suddenly, Judith sprang to her feet, her face covered with tears that she could not stop crying. She looked to the window out of which I had thrown the chalice... and then cast herself from it, to her death, before I could stop her. All the while, Kundry kept laughing.
Upon the first warm week of springtime, as per my aunt Morgan's suggestion, I conferred with her at some length about the details of the quest that I was about to undertake for her. She sat across from me at a small round wooden table in one of the lounging rooms off of her tower's main hall. As the servants rushed about performing their tasks, I waited to hear what direction it was in which I would need to go forth, and what my destination might be. Morgan smiled at me, her chalk white face beautifully framed by her raven black hair... her black eyes sparkling mysteriously. She was well named, in being called as she was “The Fey”. She produced a pile of maps and ancient looking parchments... some of which were written in welsh, with others being written in Latin. At last... she pointed to one of the maps and said to me, somewhat eagerly: “This is the plan, Mordred! You will ride forth from here alone, and you are not to journey with any caravans or other sort of protectors this time. Your sword Albion will suffice! Once you leave the immediate vicinity of the Golden Woods, you will want to journey to the easternmost of the borders of the kingdom of Lyonesse. Cross into that land from there, and then make your way first to the west and then to the north. There, you should find a place that is like unto a wasteland... it is not known why the land there is so afflicted, and the locals believe it is due to a dreadful curse. But within that part of Lyonesse there is supposedly an ancient castle from the days when Bran the Blessed still did walk the earth in flesh. If he has been reborn or not, I could not say. But at any rate, no one seems to at all know who actually owns that castle, though it is said to be a group of men and women who disguise themselves beneath long robes and hooded cloaks. Most likely druids, since monks would not have any women among their number. I suspect that this is where you will discover the head of Bran the Blessed. Everything, including several local legends, all point towards this! Once you have the head, you will be wanting to bring it back here to me as swiftly as possible. I have given the matter some thought, and it is for the best if I then bring it to the temple on the isle of Avalon, so that the sisters there can seal it for all eternity beyond the reach of men. Bran was never of this world, never truly, and I think he would so desire for his head... that being all that remains of him any longer... to be brought into the realms of the other world of Faerie, which his divine kin await to receive him. This will end his long vigil as one of the guardian spirits of the land, and allow your father Arthur to take his place. Which seems to be what Arthur actually wants for himself, after all. Prepare well for your journey, take whatever you require for it from the tower here... we've plenty of excess supplies in the cellars just in case... and guard yourself, as you make your way to that castle in Lyonesse. None who have returned from there were sane after it, and whatever they experienced there could not have been wholly of this world. This shall be your first true test of courage as a knight! Not, a knight of the Round Table... but, a knight in service to me. If you do survive this... and if I thought you would not, I'd not risk sending you forth... then it will prove to me and to yourself, that you are all that I suspect you to be. Perhaps even more!” She then fell silent, and I said to her after that: “I will accomplish this quest you set before me, Morgan! You will see that in me, you have chosen well for your champion.” to which the pale woman responded: “My champion? I, did not say I needed one! But you will do, my love. You will do nicely, I think.” and we kissed passionately as I held her in my arms one last time before beginning to ready myself for setting out. She spoke with a few of her servants, those ones of them who also seemed to be acolytes of her spiritual order, and I left her to whatsoever it was she conferred with them regarding. I dressed myself in a loose, baggy pair of ankle-length white trousers that were tied at the waist and ankles with drawstring. Tucked into those, I wore a comfortable sleeveless white blouse that laced up in the front, over which I put on a red leather vest. I fastened a leather belt about my waist, and affixed the sheath of my sword to it. I put on a pair of comfortable sandals, and wore over my garments of scarlet red cloak that went perfectly with my vest. It was simple, comfortable clothing for spring travel. I was not expecting any sort of combat, but if I did encounter any trouble... at least I would have more freedom of movement, than if I wore heavier armor.
Before I set out upon the road, Morgan granted me the use of her personal steed... a large black horse with a red saddle upon his black. She also gave me a strange amulet to wear. It was ancient looking, on a thin silver chain, and was essentially a round medallion on which was etched deeply the image of an eye. In the middle of the eye was a single red ruby that sparkled fantastically in the light. “This is quite the beautiful piece of jewelry!” I remarked, adding: “Thank you for such a gift.” to which she replied in a serious tone of voice: “It is old, and powerful! An artifact from the other world, to keep you safe and to remind you of your ties to that realm. For the course of this quest, do not take it off! And if you must then keep it at least on you at all times. So long as you possess it, no harm can befall you in either body or in spirit. But do not be reckless! It aids the wise, but never the foolish. Be well, my love!” and she so saw me off from the stables, which were adjacent to the tower itself. All my supplies were placed in the horse's saddlebags, and I had rested well the evening before, tending to any and all personal needs prior to actually departing upon my way. It was a long ride, and many days journey across the length and the breadth of the land, or at the very least that was how things seemed to be. I stopped at inns to rest, and I told no one where I was bound. The roads I chose were always well patrolled by the local militias and other fighting men, and bandits and other outlaws shied away from them, preferring back roads and old trails that were away from the sight of the common people. They also mostly struck at night, and that is why I made certain to reach complete safety upon sunset of each day. I lost track of time, and in the end I cannot say if it was days or a good week before I reached the border of Lyonesse. The roads to get to that place were long, winding, and sometimes less straightforward than I had anticipated. The skies did seem to be always blue, the air filled with the spring blossoms... and the feel of the sun warm but not at all hot upon my skin. It was wonderful now that winter was over! Snow was melting everywhere, often forming great puddles both on and off of the roads. It was not raining at all during my journey, and that was a tremendous comfort for me... since I despised the rain almost as much as I hated the winter. Most of the folk I met upon the road minded their own business, and those who did not I ignored entirely. It was a lonely way to travel, but as a knight of the Round Table I had become used to such long travels in my time. Sometimes, the nameless goddess who was within my sword would speak to me and say that she was becoming hungry, or thirsty. I did not wish to feed her, or slake her thirst! For she thirsted only for blood, and devoured souls in order to send them to the other world. After asking for directions on a great many occasions, I finally reached the easternmost borders of the kingdom of Lyonesse. It was, as Morgan had said, easy enough to know that I was in the right place... because all of the borders of that kingdom were patrolled by tall men who wore shining breastplates that looked as if they were made of silver and gold. And they wore shining helms, and carried mighty lances with bright tips, wearing also cloaks of azure blue with golden trim. They looked magnificent, and were said to be elegant and mighty men of arms who followed intricate codes of honor, and who served the ancient gods and goddesses of the land. There were some Christians who also dwelt in Lyonesse, but they practiced a peculiar form of Christianity that was said to have come originally from Greece and which was highly mystical in nature and more like magic than actual faith. I had never met a Christian mystic before, and to be honest I did not wish to meet one now. Their faith often empowered them to look upon us Pagan folk with anger as oft as not, and so I wondered what might magic also empower them to do in the name of their deity? It disturbed me too much to consider even thinking about, and I put the notion from my head right away. I approached the border calmly, and nodded politely to the guards as I crossed into Lyonesse. One of the guards rode over to me for a moment, and asked of me: “One moment of your time, stranger! What, if it is not too much trouble to ask, might be your business here in Lyonesse? We've had some knights come hither from Camelot, in search of the Holy Grail, or so they claimed... and they did not leave well at all when they left the borders of our land. I hope at least, that your business is something saner, or perhaps at least less foolhardy. What say you, sir?” and I had to admit... the guard was a very calmly polite man.
I said unto him: “Actually... I am here to have a look at one of your places of worship. I am actually a pilgrim of sorts, and a follower of the old ways of my ancestors. I have heard, that Lyonesse is still very much a place where such pilgrims might be welcome. Is this well with you?” to which the guard smiled in a friendly manner, noticing the amulet I wore about my neck. He then said: “I can see that your faith is indeed as you claim it to be! Welcome then, stranger... to our fair land. You will find it much to your liking, I hope. May the gods and goddesses of old ever bring you their blessings!” That was all he had to say, and soon I was well upon my way, traveling in the direction that Morgan had told me would be the best in order to reach the wasteland of which she spoke. The lands of Lyonesse were pleasant, to be sure, with grassy green fields filled with the first flowers of the year. The woods were not deep or dark, but seemed somewhat delightful in an idyllic sort of way. If there was anything to dislike regarding this kingdom, at least at first glance, it could be said to appear to be too perfect. In my experience, if there did seem to be anything that felt this way... it often proved to be the opposite of perfect in the end. Thus I was wary, and watchful, as I continued along upon my quest. I spotted only small animals and smiling travelers as I rode along, and began to wonder if perhaps there was not a wasteland here after all. Not a thing about the land so far indicated that anything here was less than paradise-like in terms of splendor. The buildings of the towns and villages that I crossed through were of the old Roman style, and were of a size and grandeur to rival anything elsewhere in the entire country. The people I saw were all dressed well, and seemed remarkably happy. If anything, they seemed too happy for this to be real! But it was not a bad thing, for a folk to know peace to such an extent, even if it was jarring given I came from a part of the country where conflict was frequent. I once stopped a man to ask him why he was so happy, and he said unto me: “Why should I not be? Ever since the druids brought some sort of sacred artifact to the castle in the wasteland, we've known nothing but peace in the land. I do not know, if I believe the claims that the object is magical in nature, or not... but we've not even had so much as a crime reported as being committed within the boundaries of Lyonesse entire, ever since. That is a cause for joy, I say!” I smiled back at him, for he was grinning most contentedly, and I bid him farewell as I continued along on my way to the wasteland. It was not hard to discover the way, since everyone seemed to know it by heart. All of this was a great deal easier than I had imagined it would turn out to be, and that is what I found so distressing about it. If it was so easy to get to that castle, then what was it that drove men mad one they set foot within its' walls? I was not looking forward to finding out, but like it or not there was no turning back for me at this point. Not now that I was almost there. Soon enough, the green and ideal looking landscape gave way to a vast stretch of first barren looking soil and rocky dirt from which not a thing seemed to grow... and then, a sandy area that looked like a small desert more than anything else. I saw dead trees every now and then, and dry plants... the air was warmer here, and the scent of any sort of spring flowers and blossoms was quite distant. Hawks could be seen in the sky every so often, but I noticed that even they had to range far in order to hunt for food. This was a forsaken place, and clouds of dust blew across it every so often. Something had indeed afflicted this part of the land, for it was a most unnatural sight, to see such desolation in the midst of an otherwise green and healthy landscape. In the distance, finally I could see the castle that I had come in search of. It was the only thing there to be seen, surrounded as it was on all sides by a high wall made of white stone and brick. It was a grand looking fortress, what I could see of it beyond the wall, with high towers and strong looking walls. It resembled a temple as much as a castle, and had elements of ancient Roman architecture to it. This was a place from another, far older, time... and as soon as I drew close I could detect the scent of flowers, of blossoms, and of trees coming from behind the encircling wall. There was likely a garden, there... and I could hear the singing of birds, which delighted me after seeing the awfulness of those wastes. I found a part in the outer wall into which a mighty looking reinforced wooden gate was set. There were not any guards at the gate, or upon the wall... but something made me feel quite nervous, about approaching it.
I knocked upon the gate first, and then when there was no answer I called out to whoever might be in the castle, declaring that I was a pilgrim come to learn from the druids who dwelt there. There was still no answer, and so I tested the gate to see if it was locked. Seeing that it was not, I pushed it open and I saw that indeed there was a magnificent garden upon the other side of the wall, with paths running all through it and a great paved road leading all the way up to the door of the castle's keep. I spotted many animals in the garden, mostly small and peaceful ones, and could see many different types of birds that made their homes in the trees there. I saw a beautiful young girl sitting in the garden, upon a bench of the whitest marble. She wore a long flowing pink gown with white trim, and her gown had long, wide sleeves. She was slender, her face cherubic and sweet looking, her eyes filled with childlike innocence. Those eyes were a bright blue shade, and she was singing happily to herself I could hear. Her hair was a golden blonde color, and she had it tied up in a high ponytail that kept it away from her face. She had plump lips, and big eyes, as well as light skin that was normal in tone and nothing at all like the chalk white of my own flesh. She looked about somewhat nervously as I approached, and she began to fidget a bit with her fingers when I drew near. She could not have been any older then eleven years old. She said to me, her voice high and lilting in that way that little girls' voices most often are: “So, I take it you are come from Camelot as well then? Probably in search of the Holy Grail, I should think! Well sir, it is my duty to inform you that you will be tested. And, if you are found lacking... you will either perish, or go mad. There is nothing else for it.” She batted her long eyelashes a bit rapidly after saying that, in a way that further betrayed how frightened she actually was. I said unto her: “Child, I have not come to seek the Holy Grail... and I am not arrived here from Camelot either. My name, is Mordred... and I have come to seek the head of Bran the Blessed, which is believed by some to lie within yonder castle. I do this at the urging of my aunt Morgan the Fey, who wishes to take the head to the other world of Faerie so that the spirit of Bran may finally rest in peace.” The little girl was trembling a bit, and beginning to rock back and forth. She did not reply to me, and only kept rocking back and forth like that. I put my hand upon her shoulder, and asked her in a kind tone of voice: “Child... what is the matter? Why are you so frightened! I have never seen anyone appear so terrified before.” She then growled at me in a feral way that was quite similar to an animal, and bared her teeth as she said something in a bizarre and guttural sounding language that I could not understand. Her eyes appeared mad in that instant, and her hands became stiff in their movements, her fingers almost like unto claws. She began to shake about in a very violent way, and I wrapped my arms about her as I sat down on the bench next to her. “Please be well, little girl! Please be well.” I prayed aloud, to whatever might be listening to such prayers. Soon, as I held her like that, she began to calm down, and then said unto me: “Mordred, you said your name is? I am pleased to meet you... so very pleased indeed! My name is Cassia, and I am the daughter of the great sorceress Kundry. Normally, it is she herself who sees to the trials and testing of any knights who come here upon what quest it is that brings them hither... but she said that the man she beheld in her latest of visions would be best received by me, and that I was to be the one to see to his testing instead of her. I know that you are he, because she said he would be a man whose skin was as white as snow. I do not at all know why she thought I should see to this, but she never errs with her visions. Never! And so, it will fall to me after all. It will fall to me, because it must.” and she got to her feet and offered me her hand. “Come on, Mordred!” she said, adding: “Take my hand, I will not bite you... not yet, anyway.” But the way she said that filled me with a slight dread. I took her hand in mine, and she led me through the vast gardens, showing me all of the gardens' splendors. Eventually, we reached a shaded archway very close to the wall of the castle keep and there she asked me a strange question. “Would you give your life for another, if the cause was good?” to which I replied: “That is one of my oaths as a knight! But if it was to be proven that the cause was not good, then I would not give my life for it.” The little girl then began giggling a bit, which then turned into a sweet sounding laugh. “Really?” she asked, and then ran away.
She ran back into the garden... and I chased after her. “Wait a moment, Cassia! Where are you going? Come back, I have questions for you.” I called out, and soon I spotted her by the bench once more. But two men stood there wearing long brown hooded robes, and I could make out nothing of their faces or the features thereof. They carried sickles in their hands, and one of them said loudly to the other one in a gruff sounding voice: “Come, brother! We shall sacrifice this maiden, and her blood will nourish the soil. Then, we will sacrifice the white stranger as well. But his blood... we shall drink of!” I approached the two men, drawing my blade... the white sword Albion... from its' sheath. I proclaimed: “You will be dead, before you can draw the little girl's blood! And as for mine... why, would you want to drink of it? Are you devils, rather than men, that you drink blood and seek to snuff out a child's life!” The men did seem to freeze in their tracks, and the one who spoke before explained: “You have the blood of the Fair Folk within you, or so the sorceress claims! Everyone in our order, knows that such blood can be made to extend a mortal's life if it is transmuted through the correct sort of alchemy.” I pointed to them with my sword, and warned them as follows: “If it is blood you crave, then it is devils you are! It shall very much please me, to give you both plenty of blood to drink... but it shall be your own, not mine, that you will choke upon this day. Come! Albion would like to meet you, and her thirst is far greater than your own. Are you both men, or cowards? Come, I say!” but they appeared reluctant to attack me once they saw what blade it was I held. The first man screamed and put up a rather meager defense as I cut off his hand and sent the sickle it carried flying. As he clutched his missing limb, and the blood poured out of the gory stump where his hand had been... I spun and slashed at the other man, who jumped backward a bit and nearly lost his footing. Cassia ran away from the two men and stood a good distance away. She watched as I fought, her eyes wide with terror. The second man fought a bit better than the first, and he seemed to have plenty of energy to spare as well. His attempts to deflect my attacks were pathetic for the most part, but he was slippery like a rat and just as hard to catch. He hid behind a tree at one point, thinking to trick me into catching my blade upon it, but I knew his tactics well. The tactics of a fool and a coward! I refused to swing for as long as he remained behind the tree, and so I said unto him: “Sir, it seems we are at an impasse! You cannot strike at me from behind that tree, and I will not strike at you unless you come out from behind it. Would you dance like this all day, or face your death like a man?” He growled in a savage way, and leaped out from behind the tree, a move that I could see coming well in advance. I rushed out of his way, and spun around... slashing his left side with my sword, in such a way that the blood sprayed outward from the wound I inflicted upon him. He transferred his sickle to his left hand, and clutched at his open side with his right hand. That was all the time I needed in order to finish him... I struck his head cleanly off of the man's shoulders, and he crumbled to the floor with his blood gushing forth from where his head used to be. I then ran over to the other man, who was on the ground moaning and attempting to get the blood to stop pouring out from where his missing hand once was. I struck my sword deep into him, but in a way that did not at first kill him. He was screaming in a way that was actually quite pathetic: “Please, it is so cold! Colder than winter, colder than ice... do not kill me with that sword. Please! Let me die, like a man.” and I spat in his face... for just as with the other man, his hood fell back during the fight and I saw that he and his companion had been human and not devils after all. The worst sort of humans, to desire to spill a child's blood! I so said to him in a cold tone that matched well with the freezing metal of my sword's unnatural blade: “You want to die like a man, you say? You should have lived like one then! A real man does not spill the blood of a child. And a real man does not beg for his life when he knows that his end is near. Accept your death with courage, and pray that Albion will send your worthless soul to a place where it might know peace. For my part? I hope you burn in the worst sort of hell that any devil could send you to.” I then stabbed my sword deep into the man's neck, before stabbing him through his heart as well. My sword cleaved even through the bone of the man's ribs as if they had been hardly there at all, and thereafter he lay slain upon the ground.
I walked over to Cassia, and sheathed my sword so that she would not have to look upon it. I took her into my arms and hugged her tightly and warmly, stroking her hair as I said to her sweetly: “There, you are safe now, little girl! Those men will not harm you. No men shall, so long as I draw breath. If it be... that you desire to be free of this evil place... then I can take you back with me to my home. It is far and well across many roads distance from Lyonesse... but I swear upon my very blood, the same those men wished to partake of, that I will see that you get there. My aunt would take you in... and to me it would be a far greater treasure, to take from this place, than a dead man's head.” The little girl then looked up at me with her angelic face, and said to me in a serene tone... managing it through her tears that she was crying: “Would that I could join you in your home, and call that home mine as well! For you are a kind, honorable, and compassionate man Mordred. You have passed the first test, and won my favor... and, if truth be told, my heart. Would that I could give it to you! What a prize I would make for you to take to your home, and you are the first knight who has come to this place and not wished to partake of any of its' treasures. Would you claim me, if you could?” And there was something in the way she worded that last bit, which I found almost enticing. I whispered to her, leaning in close so that she could hear me in as clear a way as possible: “Cassia! Sweet little girl that you are... I would indeed claim you, if you did desire for me to. In any way that you desired it. What is it that you are asking of me?” to which she thus replied in a far more adult way than I had expected from her: “For myself, I am asking nothing of you at all, and from you I desire nothing whatsoever! I am asking you what it is that you truly desire. For some men are known to prefer grown women, and the charms only a grown woman can present a man with... whilst others, are known to favor youth rather than experience... and to find innocence more alluring to them than outright seduction. What kind of man are you, Mordred?” Her questioning of me was taking a turn into a place I had never considered before. I had never given much thought, to what it was that I most found desirable in a woman, or in a girl. I spoke honestly to Cassia as I admitted to her: “I find in a beautiful child like yourself, much that is alluring to me... and much that stirs my loins, if my saying so does not offend you to hear me speak it so plainly. But also, I find the charms of a grown woman to be much to my liking. If you were mine, then I would savor the beauty of your youth and the delights of your young body! But I want you to know that when you do grow up, my love for you will not lessen... and I will discover new delights that you shall come to possess, which will please me greatly. Love, is what I would feel for you... not mere lust. And unlike lust... I believe that love is eternal.” The child did appear to be well satisfied with my answer. She nervously cleared her throat, and then said unto me: “I, if I might be honest with you Mordred... I am expected to seduce you, actually. My mother was insistent that I attempt to corrupt your soul, and to use the fact that you actually do like girls my age in the same way that you like adult women. I was to use that, in order to bring out the beast in you if possible. For it is said that only a man or woman who is pure in body, mind, heart and soul can touch the Holy Grail. In indulging one's darkest impulses, one becomes wholly unworthy of it. She must have thought, that your quest was the same as those who came here before you... all of whom she herself did attempt to seduce. But for some reason, she believed that I might fare better in your case. That is why I asked you the sort of questions that I did... to know if you felt lovingly or lustfully towards me.” I then took her hand in my own and squeezed it tenderly as I admitted to her: “It is both, Cassia. For me, love is always both. I cannot lust after a woman whom I could not also love! And I prefer not to love a woman unless I also feel some measure of lust for her. That, is how I think I am beginning to love you... in that very way.” This made her grow very silent and she seemed quite depressed after hearing me say this to her. After a bit, she said to me: “I do not want to be a slave here any longer! I do want you to take me back with you to your home, Mordred. Oh, I really truly do! But, so long as the head of the god Bran is here... so long as the spear which wounded him is here... and so long as the Holy Grail is here, I can never be free to leave. I, am sworn to serve those three things, and my mother is the priestess who keeps those things.”
I then offered the little girl a possible solution: “Then let me destroy those three things! A head can be cleaved in two... even the head of a god. A spear can be broken or cut in half, even the most magical of spears. And a cup or a chalice can be consumed by fire, even if it be made from gold. As for she who is your mother... even a sorceress can be slain, if that is what you want. Do you love her, or is she cruel to you, causing you to despise her?” to which Cassia answered honestly: “No, I do not love my mother! I find her to be detestable, wicked, selfish and indeed exceedingly cruel. She rules over the dark druids of this place with an iron will, and could not care less what happens to me so long as she gets to keep her treasures to herself. Only the worthy, she claims, may touch them! But no one is ever worthy, and none who have ever come here were allowed to leave unscathed, with their minds intact. If she were to meet her end, I would not weep for her. But if the treasures she guards were to be destroyed, she would lose all her power... for that power derives solely from them. The druids here would also lose their power! In deriving power from the treasures of this castle, they have turned their backs upon the old gods and the old goddesses of the land itself. That is why the surrounding land has become a horrid waste, and that is so also why one day this garden will perish. But without the things that are doing this, to the land... the earth could begin to heal, and the evil curse that is upon it would be broken. Will you do this, Mordred? Will you set me free and heal the land!” So passionately and zealously did she speak, that I could feel the power of her words filling me with courage. I said to her: “I swear to you, upon the sacred names of the old gods and goddesses who have been forsaken here... I will destroy the treasures of this place and set you free. If that also causes the land to heal someday, then so be it!” On hearing me say that, Cassia was delighted and hopped up and down... clapping her hands delightedly. She reminded me of my aunt Morgan, who always clapped her hands like that also. I liked very much, that she reminded me of her! Then, did the young girl say unto me, her tone becoming almost imperious: “Excellent, my knight! For you are in my service now. Will you grant a kiss to your fair lady before she leads you forth into danger once again?” I had longed to from the moment I set my eyes upon her. I seized her eagerly, and pressed my lips upon hers, forcing a passionate kiss upon the little girl's lovely lips. She sighed a bit, as we did part from that kiss, and I noticed that I had picked her up off the ground during our embrace. I did then set her back down, and smile at her lovingly. She smiled back, and wiped her mouth off with one of the sleeves of her gown, before saying: “My knight is passionate indeed! Follow me, Mordred... I will lead you to the chambers where the three sacred treasures are kept.” She then led me back along the side of the castle's keep once again... and this time we proceeded further and made our way to a side door that led into the keep itself. We passed through a series of kitchens, storage rooms, and servants' quarters. I saw no servants there, and found how empty everything was to be quite strange, given that an order of dark druids was supposed to be living in this keep, in addition to a wicked sorceress. There was plenty of food to be seen, and supplies aplenty as well, but there were no people. I mentioned this to Cassia as we went along through all these chambers, and she told me: “The reason there are no servants, is due to the fact that the druids will not trust any... and so they have to serve themselves. More work for them, I suppose, but less of a risk of any accidental or intentional thefts.” That, seemed a sound reason to me... so I did not worry any further about the matter. I focused instead on going only where the little girl did tell me to, and with her as my guide I was able to navigate the maze-like interior of the keep. There was little planning to how all the rooms were thus laid out, and it seemed as if the entire place was designed to be as confusing as possible for anyone attempting to infiltrate it. Stairways led up or down always in places where it made the least sense to have them, and there were shafts set into the floor in places that appeared to exist solely to make it possible to fall down them if one was not being cautious. Cassia was able to show me exactly where the shafts were each and every time. She knew this entire place by heart, having clearly lived in it for her entire young life. I could not imagine living in such a place even for a day! It was maddening... and, I realized this was part of what had broken the minds of those other men.
Those men, who had come here before me... whether knights or pilgrims or adventurers... they had all taken leave of their senses. But they did not have Cassia to help them, either! I asked her why it was we had not yet seen any of the druids thus far save for the two men I had fought outside. She explained it to me thus: “They are busy in the keep's under chambers right now, preparing for tonight's rites and rituals when my mother shall lead them in partaking of the treasures' powers. For only in those dark recesses... can they muster enough evil magic, to further corrupt the treasures, and also the land along with them.” We soon began to descend along several stairways, and we drew very near to the place where the druids were... because I could hear them chanting, and the sound of their chants grew louder and louder as this did echo through the keep's labyrinthine halls. I was grateful that at least everything was well it, with a great many torches, candles, and braziers. Traveling through these halls in shadow would have been all the more frightening, especially now with that chanting resounding the way that it did. This felt sinister in the extreme, and I was happy when we veered away from the direction of the chanting at last. We did ascend up more stairs, and then more after that, and soon were climbing a stone stairwell that ascended one of the keep's towers. The stairs led up into the highest chamber of that tower... wherein I saw upon the floor of the room an inverted pentagram which had been drawn using blood. In the middle of it was a crude looking stone altar over which was draped a spotless white cloth. Upon that cloth, was laid an old looking spear which had a sharp metal tip that looked to have seen far better days. Though still very sharp looking, the spear tip was charred as if from tremendous heat. Otherwise, the weapon was rather unremarkable and would likely be for the most part useless in combat. So old was the wood of the spear that it looked almost wholly rotted in places. “That is the spear of Bran's wounding.” the little girl said to me. She then pointed to an alcove which was set into the far wall. Within the alcove there was a bit of a deeper recess... and within that recess I could see a human skull which had no longer any trace of flesh left upon it. A crown was set upon the skull, and the crown itself looked exceedingly ancient. “In that alcove, rests the head of Bran the Blessed himself.” Cassia revealed, and to be honest I had been so expecting a great deal more than a simple skull. But what else could be left of Bran's head after so long a time since his death? Sitting upon a divan, next to the alcove... was a dark skinned little girl who had black curly shoulder length hair which framed an elegantly beautiful face. She had an aquiline nose, full lips, and deep brown eyes. Her face was freckled and smiling as she noticed my companion and I. This girl was about a year older than Cassia, and she wore a long flowing white skirt which had tucked into it a short sleeved blouse of the same color. She was stocky of build, and had an earthy way about her. I noticed that her beauty was enhanced with cosmetics... makeup of the sort that only queens sometimes favored. Or, prostitutes. She reclined upon the divan like an empress, and the way that she gazed upon me felt as if her intense eyes could peer deeply into my very soul. She held a golden platter in her hands that was covered in old, dried blood. She was also barefoot, unlike Cassia who wore a pair of soft pink slippers. The dark girl took the platter and got up from the divan, walking over to the alcove containing the skull. She removed the skull from its' place... and put the platter there, placing the skull on top of it after doing so. Then, she walked back to the divan and retrieved a golden chalice that was decorated in a most splendid manner with six sparkling emerald gemstones. I assumed that the chalice was the Holy Grail, and told Cassia as much. She then corrected me in a shocking manner, telling me: “You thought the same thing that everyone who ever came here believed! And it is wrong... it is not the cup which is in fact the true Holy Grail, but rather it is the maiden who holds it in her hands. For in her veins lies the blood of the man whom the Christians call Jesus the Christ.” I walked over to the grail maiden, and I so asked of her: “What is your name? Mine is Mordred, son of Arthur.” She then said unto me... in a voice that sounded almost playful: “It is good to meet you, Mordred son of Arthur! My name is Judith, and I am the latest to carry the sacred blood within my veins. I serve in this place as my mother did before me and when I have a daughter one day, if I am blessed with one, then she shall eventually take my place.”
She had a strange, exotic sounding accent to her voice. I knew much of Christianity although I did not choose to follow it, being a child of the old ways. And so I said unto Judith: “I have heard it said that in truth the king himself, Arthur, is linked to the Holy Grail in some way. That he and the land he rules are one, and that the Holy Grail holds the power to either heal the land or to destroy it utterly. How could it be, that you possess such power... being merely a child as you are?” And, she answered my question as directly as she could, stating: “I know Arthur quite well, and I can see something of him in you. I can... see the identical intensity of spirit, that he possesses. Is it power, that men destroy the land themselves, and then say it is I who caused it to be accursed? Is it power, that when it heals after they cease to harm the natural world, then nature returns and with it harmony far greater than before? I possess no power! I do not keep the inhabitants of this keep from leaving, nor do I wish myself to dwell here. Of old, I had a home with the sisters of Avalon, and with them I was content. But Kundry decided to keep me here, for she believed that to possess me... was to possess the very power to either curse or heal the land. She is a foolish child, and indeed a child compared to me! I will not say that I am better than she, but at least I am a great deal more mature in my thinking. She plays games with the fools who come here in search of me, and in search of the other two objects I serve as guardian to now! She toys with them, tries to of them learn their innermost heart's desire. And all, so she can twist them to her service... all so that she one day can be free from this keep, to which she believes her spirit is bound. But she is free even now! There are no slaves here... merely servants, some of light such as myself, and some of darkness. Which do you choose to serve, Mordred?” I did not like the way this girl Judith made me feel... when she did speak to me, and when she stared at me the way she did, it felt like I could keep no secrets from her at all. I walked over to the skull and carried it to the altar, placing it thereon. “Is this truly the remains of Bran the Blessed?” I asked the grail maiden... the Grail herself... who stated: “Yes! That is all that still remains of him. As you can see, he does not possess the power to speak any longer... though madmen and fools believe he does, and they claim to hear his voice.” I then exclaimed: “Then they shall hear it no longer!” and I unsheathed my sword and cleaved the skull in half with it. So ferocious was my blow that it also broke the crown in two as well. The sword let forth a loud screeching sound when I did this. Then, I took the halves of the skull and crown, and threw them unto the floor where I crushed the skull beneath my sandals, and mangled the crown further by stomping upon it. I then cleaved the spear in two with my sword, before casting the tip of the spear unto the floor where I brought my sword down upon it with all my might. The spear tip shattered, and once more the sword screeched with glee. “Only one of this keep's treasures remains to be spoiled.” I stated. Cassia was delighted, and rushed over to me. I could see the darkness in the little girl's eyes, and knew that she had no mother here. She, was actually the sorceress Kundry, and she longed with all her heart to be free. I then turned to face her, and asked: “Why do you believe your spirit is bound here by the Grail? Whatever made you come to such an odd thought!” and she said to me excitedly, nervously: “When Merlin first gave the skull of Bran, into my keeping, I could still venture beyond the border of the wasteland without difficulty. When the spear of Bran's wounding was first given into my keeping, I also could still go free. And... when it was Judith's mother who dwelt here, even then could I still find that I was free to come and go as I pleased. But then when her mother died, and I took her away from her home in Avalon to bring her hither so that she may serve me the way that her mother had... the moment she turned ten years old, I discovered that each and every single time I tried to cross beyond the wasteland, I would become violently ill. Only for that sick feeling to go away the moment I returned to the keep once again. This, all started... the moment that she first touched the skull and the spear! She, and they together... possess some terrible power. I mean to be free of it, Mordred... free of it! Yes, I am indeed Kundry... the blood of Bran the Blessed flows strong in my veins as a gift unto me from my father. That, is why I do not age as fast as normal people do... and it is why I still am a child, and shall remain one for some time to come. In all but body... I, am a woman!”
I gazed over at Judith, who looked at me bravely, unafraid... even, when Kundry suggested to me: “It is an easy thing, to set me free! All you need do, is defile the maiden who is the Grail... her power shall cease, when she is no longer a virgin. You need not kill her, simply take her by force. Such a thing will break her spirit, and she will be just like any other mortal then! She will have no more power over me.” I could not believe that I was actually hearing an eleven year old girl demanding that I commit rape on another child. “You are a woman, you say?” I asked Kundry, who exclaimed eagerly: “Yes! And, I will be yours forever after this... think of it, I can remain a child for far longer than a normal girl ever could. I can give you forbidden pleasures the likes of which you have never experienced before! I love you... I need you, Mordred. Please, I beg of you! Set me free.” I kept staring into Judith's eyes, and I asked her one last question. What I asked her was: “Am I damned?” to which she exclaimed sternly: “Yes! And I pity your black soul, for what it is that you are about to do.” That was all I needed to know. Whatever it was that lay within Judith's heart... that heart, was hardened against me already. I could feel how coldly she regarded me compared to the intensity of the warmth that I could feel from Kundry... whose claims of love for me were at least seemingly sincere. Judith then stated: “The king and the land are one! As it sickens, so it is because Arthur's spirit had darkened. The sacred blood does not just course in my flesh, it also courses through the king's... and through you, who are his very son. Whatever happens to me this day, I am not afraid! But you Mordred, shall become the Unholy Grail should you defile me. You shall become the very antithesis of all that I stand for... and in the end it will be as if a serpent had come to so nest at the bosom of Camelot.” I walked over to her, and slapped her hard across the mouth, which she clutched, a look of shock and surprise coming upon her face. I then took the chalice from her hand and I threw it out of one of the tower windows. “No more curses from that mouth of yours, you little bitch!” I said to her cruelly, as I pulled her off of the divan on which she sat. I did press her arms to the floor of the chamber, and I began to kiss her face, and then lick it like an animal might. I wedged myself firmly between her legs, which spread out widely as I did so. I grabbed her by the neck with one hand, as I did tear open her blouse with my other. Her young body looked so soft beneath me... and it felt as soft as it looked, as I touched it. I pulled up her skirt, and tore aside her loincloth... exposing the soft cleft of her maidenhood. She would be a maiden no longer! Her hands clutched the arm by which I held her by the neck, and I cautioned her: “Do not struggle, girl... it would not take much to break your neck.” and she relaxed her grip on my arm, after that. I untied my trousers, and pulled them down, removing the fully erect shaft of my manhood from my loincloth and taking it into my hand. I pushed it inside of the girl, who gasped and cried out in pain as I began to thrust in and out of her over and over again... during the course of which she lost her virginity, which caused some blood to flow between her legs. She cried out even louder, nearly screaming, when that happened... and I felt all resistance cease with her, after that. I removed my hand from her neck, and used my hands to keep her arms fully pinned to the floor as I did push into and out of her with ever greater intensity. She felt moist and wet between her legs, and felt as if she were attempting to grind her hips and actually increase her own pleasure. I kept kissing her face, and passionately kissed her mouth... pressing my tongue into it and savoring the taste of her mouth, of her lips which I licked a bit after ending the kiss. “I drink from the Holy Grail this day!” I proclaimed, nearly drunk with the ecstasy of this vile act I was engaged in. My aunt Morgan had been right... some women, and apparently some girls, enjoyed being taken forcefully. I did climax inside of Judith, and I could feel my warmth filling up inside of her. She cried out one last time, and began to cry quite sadly and bitterly after that. Our intercourse complete, I kissed her face again and stood up from the floor. As I did so, I fixed my clothing so that I was once more decent. I walked back to the altar, where I had left my sword, and placed it back into its' sheath. Suddenly, Judith sprang to her feet, her face covered with tears that she could not stop crying. She looked to the window out of which I had thrown the chalice... and then cast herself from it, to her death, before I could stop her. All the while, Kundry kept laughing.
Published 6th Dec 2022
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