Road to Mingham

Uther in his nightgown followed by 30 Royal Prime Knights that wore dark adamantium armors, lion faced helmets with golden ponytails to the ground walked towards the commotion, towards Arthur’s bedroom.

???? “My King, you shouldn’t be the one dealing with this, this late in the night, let me assemble 10 of my men, we will hunt them down and I promise you that by tonight you will have their heads,” one of the knights spoke as he walked at Uther’s side, the others were at least 1m behind Uther.

???? “There will be no need for that Victor, I had already foreseen this and sent Arthur on an errand far away from the castle,” Uther replied as he kept on walking towards his son’s bedroom.

Victor “My King, forgive me, regardless if the prince was there or not… If this act of thievery is not answered….”

Uther stops.

All the knights stop and immediately kneel down, including Victor.

Uther “Someone stop that God awful sound,” Uther said as he gazed into the distance to the bell tower.

Victor gives a quick glance back to one of the knights.

Before Victor could even turn his gaze back in front of him the knight disappeared into the dark of the night, a few seconds later, the bell stopped ringing.

Outskirts of Camleot,
At the same time,

Bedivere “Ahhh! Ahhh! I’m not doing that ever again!”

Arthur “Just keep running and shut your mouth off.”

Igraine “To the right, here,” Igraine said as she was leading them into a dark forest.

Bedivere “I don’t understand why we couldn’t just leave through the front gate? We had Igritte with us, right? Surely we could’ve come up with something… ”

Arthur “Doesn’t matter right now, we need to get as far away from the castle as possible.”

Igraine “Stop talking, to the left, here.”

Igraine stopped as soon as she turned to the left, she noticed the carriage that was waiting for them at the outskirts of the castle.

Igraine “We’re here! Get in, quickly!”

???? “Hyaaa!” A male voice could be heard as he whipped the horses, the carriage slowly started moving.

Bedivere “Can’t say that I’ve ever traveled in these conditions, usually it’s… well… not this,” she spoke as she grabbed one of the books, starting to browse through it.

Igraine removed her hood and placed it gently at her side, between her and Arthur.

Igraine places her elbow on the small table that stood in between the two seats and gently places her head on her palm, looking at Bedivere.

Igraine “And I can’t say that I’ve met many literate orcs before.”

Bedivere “Have you met any orcs before?”

Igraine “Not many… some, though the circumstances were different.”

Bedivere “No doubt…” Bedivere spoke in a condescending manner.

Igraine with a saddened look, glanced at Bedivere, thinking that perhaps her perceived notion of what orcs were, was maybe in the wrong, as a noble, as a Queen, and in all her life up to that point, the circumstances that she met any orcs, were as slaves before her and nothing more and always thought that those who became slaves were bad people, creatures, and anything in between that definitely did something wrong in their life that led them to their predicament, so she never gave them a second thought.

Igraine “I’m sorry…” She spoke quietly, looking outside the window, not wanting to face Bedivere.

Bedivere “There’s nothing to be sorry about Elfie.”

A few moments of silence gripped the room.

Igraine “Uahhhhh….”

A tired Igraine yawned as she gently placed her hand at her mouth.

Arthur “Here, lay down, I’m going to go have a word with our coachman,” Arthur spoke as he got up.

Igraine “Thank you,” Igraine spoke in a gentle manner as she grabbed one of the pillows.

Arthur opens the carriage door and quickly jumps on top of the carriage, from there he quickly jumps near the coachman, sitting down by his side on a plank of wood.

???? “Ahhhh!”

Arthur gave him a quick look, he immediately recognized who the coachman was, it was Notre, one of the most trusted servants of the royal family, a 40 year old hunchback with a face so hideous and repulsive that Uther had him wear a mask every time Notre had to do and errant inside the castle or especially around Igraine.

Arthur “Hello there,” Arthur spoke with a smile on his face, while performing a salute.

Notre quickly turned his gaze away from Arthur and to the right, not wanting Arthur to see his face.

Arthur “So? Do you usually escort criminals of the crown in the night? Or is it just a side gig for you?” Arthur asked in a joking manner.

Notre “I… Uhhh… The King… Order… Uhhh… Notre… Obey order….”

Arthur “I see, Mhhhhhhuuuuuumm *Arthur takes a deep breath* Ahhhhh… You know? I quite like this time of year, not too cold, not too hot… a perfect balanced atmosphere… Don’t you think so?”

Notre “Time… Good… I Ahhh… Uhmmm… Winter… Hurt Notre back…. here… here… Big lump…. Winter… No good for Notre….” He spoke, still with his gaze averted, pointing with his right hand at his hunchback.

The carriage hits a small rock on the right side.

Notre “Ahhh! Shhhh!”

Arthur “I’d prefer if my coachman would pay more attention to the road and not to the forest.”

Notre “Apologize… Yes… Notre sorry… Uhhh… I… Notre… no good to look at… no good…”

Arthur “Stop it.”

Notre “Ahhh… Uhhh… I… Stop… Carriage? I… Notre…. Do not… understand… Uhhh…”

Arthur “Stop it.”

Arthur “Am I the only one to see through this performance? Or is it possible that so many could be so stupid for so long? Huh?” Arthur asked, annoyed.

Notre “I… Uhhhh… Do not understand…”

Arthur grabs Notre’s head with his right hand and forcefully pushes him to look straight at him.

Arthur “Notrevalius Damialia, I said, stop it…”

Arthur lets go of Notre’s head.

Notre looks at Arthur bewildered, confused, uncertain.

After a few seconds, and a few confused gazes at Arthur, Notre rearranges himself, standing right, his back lump was still there, but far smaller, a few neck twists and strange expressions that contorted his face made Notre to appear younger, healthier, more active and more vibrant than he was before, still with a hideous face, but the improvement from what he used too look like a few seconds earlier could definitely be noticed.

Notre “There are times where I have trouble believing it myself… I had a feeling it would be you… My prince…”

Arthur “Then, why do you bother?”

Notre “So many flowers my prince, each wanting to grow the tallest, bloom the brightest, and one by one… sooner or later they all get plucked. I don’t want to be the tallest or the brightest, I only want to remain in the garden, until my time comes… to return to the dirt.”

Arthur “5 years ago… When my father threw me out, you’re the one who came to my help, why? I never asked you…”

Notre “You needed help. If anyone could understand a person left on the streets, that would be me… Or was it my tender spot for people in pain and broken things… To be honest… I do not remember which it was.”

Arthur “Broken things…. Ha! I like that! Hahahha! Ahhhhh….*Turning his joyful look into a saddened one, Arthur looks at both his hands* Ahhhh… What do you want, Notre? What do you truly want, not that garden crap you gave me earlier, I want to know what gets you up from that bed of yours each morning.”

Notre “I’m afraid, what I want, not even all the treasure in the entire world could buy… my prince…”

Arthur “You would be surprised… with the things…. money can buy,” Arthur spoke while looking straight at Notre with a vicious smile on his face.

Notre “Money… cannot buy love…”

Arthur “Hmmm… No, I guess they can’t… But do you know what money can buy?”

Notre “I had my fare share with the “working” class ladies, my prince, your father pays me well, so well, that even they can’t deny me…”

Arthur “Well… How about a wife?”

Notre “A wife? Hahaha! Your father would never allow that…”

Arthur “I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to… sooner or later, I will be the one sitting on that throne, Notre, and I will be the one who gets to decide that.”

Notre “That is true… But… a wife, bought with money… is still not love…”

Arthur jumps on the plank of wood, standing with both feet upon it, he puts his left hand to his heart and raises his right hand slightly up and to the right.

Arthur “The course of true love never did run smooth; But, either it was different in blood, O cross! too high to be enthrall’d to low. Or else misgraffed in respect of years, O spite! Too old to be engag’d to young. Or else it stood upon the choice of friends, O hell! to choose love by another’s eye.”

Arthur stood back down on the plank of wood.

Arthur “All that I’m saying is that I’m willing to give you a chance at happiness, how you will treat your wife, will be your decision and if she will ever fall in love with you, that will be her decision, hopefully based on your actions towards her.”

Notre “I’m assuming this opportunity doesn’t come free?”

Arthur “Of course not…”

Notre “Then, what is your request my prince?”

Arthur “No one bats an eye to the hunchbacked cripple, you did this for me before, although, in different circumstances, but… what I want from you is simple, I want you to spy on my mother. I want letters once per week containing her daily life, that’s it, if I don’t get my letter for a single week that I’m gone, consider the deal off.”

Notre “What you ask of me… Is no easy task…”

Arthur “My father trusts you more than enough, probably even more than he trusts Victor, I’m sure you can do this for me, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked.”

Notre “And what if I get caught?”

Arthur “Tell my father that I put you up to this, and I swear in my name that no harm will come to you.”

Notre “But how will I find you? How do I know who to send the letters to?”

Arthur bends over and whispers in Notre’s ear.

Arthur “Send the letters to the Guild master of the *Inaudible whispers*....”