Tweet of the Day: Damaged and Weak Characters
Guinevere beamed with delight, “Sister,” she said as we embraced.
“I take it is official then,” I said.
“Yes, yes it is. We are family now, Morgan, not that we were not before, but now,” she skipped, “We truly are family.”
“And what about Arthur?” I asked.
Guinevere turned, crestfallen, “He is, he is with Father, dealing with the Saxons.”
I took her hand, “He will be alright, Gwen, you’ll see.” I feared that my dear friend would be a widow all too soon.
Come home dear brother.
We walked to Father’s hall. Furious shouts reverberated from within.
“My son is dead Severus! And all because of you!” screamed Uncle Josephus at the top of his lung, spittle flew from his lips with every syllable.
“I am sorry Brother, I had not heard the news,” said Father. A hand covered his weary eyes.
“You use him as an errand boy, my son, my heir and all you have to say is that you are sorry? You always been a sack of shit, Severus!”
“I cared for the boy as if he were my own, Anthony, I truly did.”
Mordred, spear in hand, stood beside Father. Then a wave of revulsion and anger gripped me. Everything slowed down. Uncle drew his sword, Father tried to calm him, Mordred’s bronze leaf spearhead sank into Uncle’s belly. The spear clattered on the floor. Mordred seemed to recoil from his act, but the eyes, the eye remained cool, distant, uncaring.
“LEAVE US!” shouted Father as he cradled Uncle’s body. A thick pool of blood seeped into the hall’s stone floor.
I grabbed Guinevere,”Let us leave, now.”
Faint sobs echoed behind us. The cries of a broken man, a destitute king.