King Arthur's War: A Short Story

Percival and Gwaine took their usual seats at the round table. The Council Chamber was so quiet Percival heard his own shallow breathing. Even the most serious of meetings rarely started out this somber. And more that the silence was the thick presence of worry in the air. Council members sat erect, and even Gwaine did not crack jokes.

With no need to call for quiet, Arthur started right in. “Men, we leave for Abertawe not at first light, but at dusk. If we ride hard, we can meet Odin’s army at the shore and be in position by sunrise. Rest for now, say your goodbyes and prepare to ride out near sunset.”

Arthur briefly explained his battle plans, then dismissed everyone. Percival wanted to get to Fleur and Rion right away. He had faced battle before many times, but
Odin’s men were already pouring off their ships, crossing the beach, and rushing onto the open, sandy field, which was dotted with tall seagrass. The sand was too soft to fight on horseback, so Camelot’s knights dismounted; they would have to fight on foot. Meanwhile, Merlin set up a makeshift infirmary under tree cover where he would manage the wounded.

Arthur hardly had time to shout orders before the first barrage of flaming arrows hit. Gwaine, helping one of the younger knights get his shield up just in time, narrowly escaped a direct hit to the face.

Another round of flaming arrows sliced through the knight, and this time, Percival shielded a new knight who had panicked and forgotten all his training. The fire burned through Percival’s trousers and seared the back of his thigh. That would leave a permanent mark, but in the heat of battle, wounds seemed to hurt less.

“They outnumber us two-to-one,” said Gwaine, while Odin’s archers no doubt prepared to fire again. “But you know what I say about those odds, don’t you?”

“That you love