Vortimer

Merlin sat barely three hundred yards from the walls of Deganwy Castle. It had been a long walk to the castle, and had decided to take a short rest. The rest had served two purposes, them being that Merlin could rest, and the second being that he could watch Vortigern's army. It wouldn't be easy to get in, but it was midday and the troops were getting restless. All Merlin had to do was wait for an opening.


 
There! On his feet in seconds, Merlin ran through a narrow opening in the army, and was now in between the army and the castle. Merlin took a second to make sure he hadn't been seen, and looked around, trying to find the War tent. That was where Vortigern would be.


 
Not seeing it nearby, Merlin began to walk. He had no idea where the tent would be, or what would make it stand out from every other tent. Yet, Merlin knew that as he walked, he was getting closer to the tent. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, and odd feeling of intuition.


 
Lost in his thoughts, Merlin nearly ran into one of the guards just outside a tent he hadn't noticed up until now. The tent was considerably larger than the other tents and the only one that had guards posted outside of it. Made out of red felt, the tent was much more decorated than the other plain, virtually colorless tents. It would make sense to assume this was Vortigern's tent. Granted, it was very different from the last tent that Vortigern had used, but that night had been one of urgency. This was probably Vortigern's personal tent for his own private use.


 
Merlin quietly snuck into the tent under the opening flaps. He was never noticed by the guards.


 
"… push back the Saxons to Thanet, back to whence they came," said a young man in his twenties. He had blonde hair and eyes of which their color changed with the reflection of light. He had a grim look on his face, pouring over a poorly drawn map of the area. Upon his head rested a golden circlet similar to Vortigern's, the only difference being it was slightly smaller. This young man was obviously king of something… But of what? Vortigern was the king here, not this man, whoever he should be,


 
In the corner sat a small man with small circular spectacles. He appeared a very bookish person, with a long nose and small brown eyes peering through glasses that kept sliding down his nose. As if to look even more the picture of a bookworm, he wore a long robe and carried a book under his right arm, and stumbled on his sentences as he spoke quickly, as if he were unsure of himself.


 
"Yes sire, of course, whatever you say must be done is surely such," said the small man quickly, furiously scribbling notes in a journal on a table next to him.


 
The young man's face drew an exasperated look on his face. "How many times have I told you, Pascent, to call me Vortimer? I am not our father and as such want to be treated otherwise, and I am also your brother. You owe me no allegiance, despite my being the elder and my ascendancy to the throne. Do we understand each other Pascent?"


 
The small man nodded furiously and scribbled down some notes.


 
"Oh for heaven's sake, stop that!" exclaimed the man Merlin took to be Vortimer.


 
The other person, the small bookish man, Pascent, threw the note book to the side and put one leg over the other while lacing his hands and putting them in his lap, as if nothing had happened. A comical moment, Pascent's face had a fake pleasant smile plastered to it.


 
Vortimer rolled his eyes and shook his head. To think this clown was his advisor… Very sad indeed.


 
Going back to what he had previously been speaking of, Vortimer began talking once more, keeping a careful eye on Pascent to make sure he didn't write down notes. "The Saxons are our enemy, but thankfully we have found a base of theirs here, at a remote outpost in Wales. Now we must drive them out, and hope that a victory here will bring the Saxons to their senses and they won't dare to fight me much longer thereafter. Meanwhile, my forces are engaging other Saxon forces across all of Britannia. Soon the war will be over. But first, our troops must gather at Epsford, where we will rest before marching to attack Hengist and Horsa at Hraefn's ate."


 
Merlin had heard all he needed to hear, and left the tent. Who were Hengist and Horsa? Where were Epsford and Hraefn's ate? Why did Vortimer think that Deganwy was under Saxon control? Did Vortimer even really know what was going on?


 
Outside, Merlin saw that the sun was much lower in the sky than he had expected it would be. He estimated about two to three hours before sunset. Two to three hours before battle. Merlin would be hard pressed to…. To do what?


 
Suddenly Merlin realized that he had no idea what to do. Should he go back and tell Blaise? Or should he tell Aurelianus that reinforcement had come? Should he try to kill Vortimer? What should he do? He didn't know, and found himself wandering. He just walked, hotly debating with himself what he should do. Merlin had not come to a decision when Vortimer walked out of his tent, closely followed by Pascent.


 
As Vortimer walked, the army around him quieted and looked over at their leader. Merlin could see that they held Vortimer in great respect, much greater than they had with Vortigern. A born leader, these men were Vortimer's to command. His voice strong and powerful, it carried with little effort on his part as he spoke.


 
"Men, we have been laying siege to the enemy castle for several months now. They are on the verge of starvation, and surrendering their castle to us, giving us a bloodless victory. But these cowards are too good for a bloodless defeat! For months they have stood behind their walls, hoping we would flee, just as they would have in our position! But we are the stronger men, and we will give the cowards behind their walls what they deserve! Tonight, we will attack! Your orders are simple: leave no man, woman, or child alive to see another day. Take no prisoners; we have no need for them. Any man who spares another will not be spared themselves. Now, prepare men. We attack within the hour."