O Noble Camel!

[JRERowland]

((Hey, thought I would just put up a very short piece of Pendragon (the prologue is kinda huge) to show off a bit of my writing, although being unedited it's probably not showing off. This takes place at the start of Chapter Two, to show, in a microcosm, what the rule of King Vortigern is like for the people of Britain.))

Tiny slithers of light crept across Camel in the dreary day, breaking through the thick cloud, as Vortigern and his entourage rode through the creaking front gate. The city of Camel had changed much since when he first took it by force, twenty long years ago. Thatched roofs and clumsy stonewalls still dominated the sight of the lower levels of Camel, tightly packed together. Now though small and dirty children ran around them, no longer clean and in the fields below. Vortigern watched them with disgust as he rode past them; they made the city look so unkempt.

In the market place, the weather had not slowed the hustle and bustle of bartering. Wooden stalls laden with fruits and vegetables were dotted across the square, women wrapped up in torn and filthy cloth carrying half empty baskets of food for their family, much of it near rotten. As the horsemen rode through the square, several dismounted, grabbing the nearest women they could find and pushing them into ran down houses. The King was pleased to see that no one reacted to the event, pleased that all his subjects knew their places.

Finally Vortigern emerged from the stench of the lower city and into the slightly cleaner air of the last level of Camel. Work was continuous on his keep, new art and items from Europe and even Constantinople filtered in at a constant rate, as money from the treasury filtered back out. Other large and far sturdier buildings were dotted across the green gardens, homes for the King’s favourites, occasional flashes of marble or bronze glinting out from the homes.

A large building loomed over several of these homes, circular and its road guarded by colossus figures of ancient heroes. The marble faces of Achilles and Hercules stared blankly as the horsemen rode between them, Vortigern leading his men through the outstretch swords of Julius Caesar and Alexander of Macedon. Above them all, placed atop the large wooden gate was the figure of Vortigern himself, watching everyone that passed into his War Council.

He had decided to make the great sprawling building after naming himself the High King of Britain. He needed to make a display of strength and power, and his War Council was the prefect way to achieve it. He had taxed the poor of Camel and increased the tribute that the many Kings and Lords across the country had to pay. The poor had become poorer, much of the outer country was unable to defend themselves, but it was a small price to pay in the King’s mind. Stories of his War Council were told across the known world, in Paris, Rome and even as far as Alexandria.