Ambrosius the Warlord 8: One Step Forward…

Tweet of the Day: Designing from Bones – Elements of Culture

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Severus the Rogue – 1 – 7 – 9

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“Arthur,” said Leodegrance as he approached the table, “may I have a word.”

“Certainly Sire,” I said as I fell in step with him.

Below us, at the foot of the hill the campfires of refugees and soldiers sent slivers of smoke into the morning sky.

“I fear that the Saxons will strike at any moment. This place will hold them,” he said.

“I agree Sire, we must bring them to battle at a time and place our choosing, yet I am at lost on how to do that,” I said.

Lodegrance stopped and set his sight on the eastern horizon. The sunlight marked every crag and wrinkle in his face. A face that had seen its share of years, good and bad. I had come to trust his wise counsel and the leadership among his people had no equal.

“I have idea. According to our spies, Vortigern still lives, correct?”

“I believe so.”

“Then where you to capture him that would force the horse brothers to come after us, you could lead them to a trap in a place of your choosing,” he said.

“A risky maneuver, Sire, but considering the alternatives, one worth trying.”

“Good, which brings me to the issue of my daughter.”

He knows! Of course he knows. Unlike a blind idiot would not know.

“Sire, I have abused your hospitality by my behavior if there is–” he cut me off with shrug.

“I know my sweet Guinevere. When she sets her mind to something, no one can stop her. You are a good man Arthur, neither she nor I could have chosen better. But life is short and if you should set out against the Saxons one last time then I worry what would happen to her. She deserves more. She deserves a man that loves her and honors her.”

“I understand. Then I ask that you grant your blessing, Sire.”

“I would not have it any other way.”

It should have come as any surprise to me that she answered my proposal with an simple ‘of course’. Within the space of a week the festivities were prepared and the ceremony was held on Lodegrance hall. The Christian priest oversaw the vows and then we retired to our bed. That night was bitter sweet. Nothing made me happier than her embrace but I knew that in the morn I would have to leave again.

All roads pointed east.

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