Beyond the Legend

By Jo Ann Mason

Mordred is believed to have perished in the battle between he and King Arthur. But Marianna has another plan for the evil Prince that sets them both on a most unexpected journey. But the road to redemption is not without its trials and after five years of a simple peaceful life Mordred and Marianna face the road they had feared the most. Morgan Le Faye's discovery that Mordred is still alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jo Ann Mason
• Release date: Apr 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311518491

Jo Ann Mason

storyteller, filmmaker residing in Fayetteville NC.

Book preview

BEYOND

THE

LEGEND

Nosce Teipsum

Know Thyself

ISBN 978-1-4357-1921-7

All rights reserved Copyright © Jo Ann Mason 2000, 2008, 2014

All rights reserved Copyright © 2014 Cover Art by Jason W. Stokes

Table of Contents

Forward

Prologue

Chapter One: Homeward

Chapter Two: Fanning the Fire

Chapter Three: The Beginning

Chapter Four: Grasping at Straws

Chapter Five: Gambling with Fate

Chapter Six: Some Dreams are Real

Chapter Seven: A Change of Heart

Chapter Eight: Losing Control

Chapter Nine: The First Choice

Chapter Ten: Always and Forever

Chapter Eleven: Friend or Foe

Chapter Twelve: The Gift

Chapter Thirteen: The Beginning of the End

Chapter Fourteen: The Monster Rears Its Head

Chapter Fifteen: Reacquainted with Old Friends

Chapter Sixteen: The Lesser of Two Evils

Chapter Seventeen: Preparing for War

Chapter Eighteen: Bittersweet Satisfaction

Chapter Nineteen: Time to Pay the Piper

Forward

I was, at the time of this story’s conception, going through some changes in my life. One cold snowy February weekend I decided to take a short three day vacation. I had no money to go anywhere so I decided to lock myself away in my room and travel with my imagination. So I stocked the kitchen with cold cuts and microwavable food so my family wouldn’t starve without me. I spent a good hour or two searching the shelves until something peaked my interest. I had at last choose my destination- Camelot. A place I had been fascinated with since early childhood.

I locked myself away with Geoffrey, Mallory, the Green Knight and a couple of modern versions of the legends of King Arthur. I emerged three days later (it was a three day weekend off from my job) with my mind refreshed but also, after having read through all those books and yes I read them from cover to cover, I had an idea.

Mordred is portrayed as a villain of one kind or another in the majority of the legends. But if you looked at the most commonly told version, the one most portrayed in the movies, could things have been different for him? I played with this story for nearly 3 years until it went in the direction I felt it needed to go, psychologically.

We all know the story of how it all got started and why Morgan le Faye came to hate her half-brother. But Mordred, he was a side circumstance, a pawn really. To his mother he was just a means to an end and Arthur, well he had to put up a good firm front for the sake of his kingdom though I think he did have an enduring spot in his heart for Mordred. Merlin didn’t help much either always reminding the King about the prophecy, that he started I might add.

Where was Mordred in all this- in more modern terms– he was tossed, emotionally, back and forth between parents. Something that still happens in today’s world. Used as a weapon.

Always being reminded that what he wanted didn’t matter all that mattered was that he did what his mother wanted him to do- hate his father and take his throne. I asked my Mordred, did he even want to be king, under his mother’s thumb. The answer was no. It’s what was expected of him, on either side of the sword, but not what he wanted.

Seeing that the first five years of his life, thanks to Merlin’s insistence that he be killed before he even became a man(ship full of babies ring a bell?), he had been raised by a kind fisherman and taught right from wrong, He had it in him to be honorable beginning with those formidable years and later under the influence of his brothers Gawain and Agravaine and of course, Arthur.

So why couldn’t he turn himself around if he wanted? He needed help to believe in himself and to get out of Morgan’s grasp. Magical or psychological she controlled his every move.

Enter Marianna, an orphan with an outsider’s view of things and a tender heart for the boy no one wanted. This is where my story begins.

PROLOGUE

The smell of blood and death permeated the air. The sun danced along the tree tops as it slowly stretched its arms of light through the dense web of green leaves, as if trying to awaken what lay wasted on the ground. The world was silent, no chattering squirrels or chirping birds to be heard. No rustle of the trees, for even the breeze dared not to break the horrid stillness of the battlefield. Beneath a cloudless blue sky lay an ocean of mutilated bodies. A sea of brave knights, soldiers and archers who gave their lives for the leaders they trusted.

Supported by his most loyal knights, Sir Bedivere and Sir Lucas, the mortally wounded King Arthur surveyed the carnage that lay before him. Over a thousand men had sacrificed their lives the stubborn wills of two men.

We are all that remain my lord, Sir Lucas said grievously. There is no one left of either army.

What of Mordred? Arthur beseeched them. Did you see where he fell?

I saw you spear his heart, my lord, but not what became of his body. Some of his men may have carried him off or, being the worm that he was, he found a hole to die in, Bedivere grumbled. Concern yourself only with your own injuries.

Barely able to stand without help, the King broke free of the knights’ aid. He staggered through the field searching for his answer in the face of every lifeless warrior. Where is he? I must to see his lifeless corpse with my own eyes! The king combed wildly through the sea of death pausing, only for a moment, each time he found the body of a beloved friend. He was determined to find his adversary’s lifeless corpse. He must be here! Bedivere, look over there and Lucas, you look in that direction!

As ordered the two men began to search, but only half-heartedly as their attention lie foremost on the king’s health. It didn’t take long, weakened by immense fatigue and the severity of his wounds, until the weary king collapsed to his knees.

Arthur! Sir Bedivere called out as he came rushing to his King’s side. My lord, Bedivere helped Arthur to his feet again. You, yourself gave him the blow that pierced his heart. You can be assured that he is dead. No one could survive a wound like that.

Bedivere strove to ease Arthur’s mind as they staggered over to a large oak tree. Arthur supported himself against the tree and sank to the ground. The color steadily draining from his face and the anger that had so fiercely burned in his eyes fading just as quickly. My son, he strained to speak. My son fought well.

Yes, my lord, Lucas reluctantly agreed as he swabbed the king’s bloodied face with the tattered remains of a standard flag. At best, he was a worthy opponent and fought passionately. But….

There is no legal proof that Mordred was your son. Bedivere broke in. He’s Lot’s son and you need to leave it at that if you ask me.

Calm yourself my old friend, Arthur placed his hand on Sir Bedivere’s shoulder. You had only to look at him to see he was my son. He could have been my best knight, had the fates been kind. I cannot condemn him for what my sins brought him to. His anger. His hatred. That was as much my own doing as his mother’s. Arthur hung his head, closed his eyes and let his arm drop from Bedivere’s shoulder, falling limp to his side.

Bedivere could never understand how the King could see any good in Mordred and, as always, let his opinion be known. My lord, Mordred may well have been your son but moreover he was a villain, your enemy. He had to be stopped. You should not blame yourself for his demise.

I know. Arthur’s voice wavered. I cannot deny the truth. For the sake of the kingdom he had to be destroyed. But neither can I blame him for the steps he was compelled to take against me. Arthur wrench in pain. He would have been my greatest ally, my successor had I not denied him his birthright. Or a father’s love, he added sadly. A king must make hard choices.

Aye, my lord, Sir Lucas agreed. His heart was dark and corrupt. You made the right choice.

I don’t believe his heart was evil just misguided. Arthur coughed weakly. Evil or not, With a feeble hand Arthur wiped the blood that trickled from the corner of his mouth as he fought to stay coherent. In my heart he is still my only son and I will grieve for him.

Behind them the sound of horse’s hooves running hard and heavy grew ever nearer. The two knights turned to see a woman riding in their direction. A lady? Bedivere rose to his feet. What is a lady doing here? This is no place…. but before he could finish he saw that it was Arthur’s sister, Morgan le Fay. Speak of the devil, my lord. Satan’s mistress approaches.

Morgan made no attempt to slow the horse before bringing him to a dead halt, nearly knocking Sir Bedivere to the ground. She practically flew from the horse’s back and hurried to Arthur. Kneeling, she touched her hand to his cheek and spoke softly. You are dying, my brother, I’ve come to see you off to Avalon. The Lady of the Lake awaits our arrival.

Bedivere, believing that Morgan’s sudden concern for her brother was a trap, gruffly seized the evil queen by the arm and pulled her to her feet. How do we know you will not take him away to Lothian and deny him his passage to Avalon?

Momentarily stunned, Morgan glared at the knight then broke free of his grasp. Because, my lords, you will be bringing him to the Lady yourselves. She returned to her brother’s side and cradled his head against her chest. She looked at Sir Lucas and whispered in a low raspy voice. Even I do not have the power to keep him from his place in Avalon.

Arthur looked up at her. His eyes softened as he struggled to speak. "Morgan? He didn’t need to speak further, Morgan knew what he wanted to know. She placed her hand tenderly on his cheek once more and whispered in his ear.

Yes, my lord, our son is dead.

The short trip to the lake at Avalon seemed to take an eternity. Once they came within sight of the lake the knights saw a glimmering golden boat with four beautiful young ladies waiting on the shore. The four maidens cautiously attended to Arthur. Gently sliding him down from Bedivere’s horse, they placed him in the cabalistic vessel. Morgan Le Fay followed.

His strength fading, Arthur issued his last command. My nephew, Constantine, is King now. You must serve him as you have served me. Promise me that you will look after him, advise him wisely.

We swear, Sire, Sir Lucas responded. Bedivere nodded in agreement.

We must leave now, my lords, One of the young ladies spoke softly.

The King muttered a very faint farewell as he drifted off into unconsciousness.

Good journey, my friend. Sir Bedivere said as he and Sir Lucas watched the boat slip quietly into the thick mist that kept Avalon hidden from mortal eyes.

Chapter One- Homeward

Neither of the two surviving knights, in all their vast experience, had ever seen such a fiercely devastating battle. The smell of death and destruction left in the wake of this final war between father and son was almost unbearable. Their dearest friends, brothers, knights, squires, footmen, every last one of them gone forever from this world.

Already well past the mark of noon, the sun had begun its slow and steady descent from the sky. Though it would be several hours before the blanket of night covered the earth completely Bedivere and Lucas hastened their horses towards home and their new king. As they trudged through the war torn land, they came upon a young woman searching through the dead. Though it was common in those days for the peasants to scavenge through the battlefields for whatever useful treasures they could find, this girl was clearly looking for someone specific. She was small, barely larger than a child, with long red curls that stretched down to her hips. She wore a dark blue cloak that was undoubtedly far too large for her. My Lady, for what do you seek here so intently among all these slain men? Sir Lucas asked as they came near.

Without looking up from her task she answered. I search for my own fair lord, Sir. I dreamed that he would be here, still holding on to the last breath of life. I must find him.

The knights took pity on the maid, believing her to be so grief-stricken that she had gone mad. I fear, dear lady, your wishful vision may betray you. There are none that survived this battle, save us. Lucas told her.

Bravely, she held her head high and drew her large cloak closer around her neck as the wind began to stir. She brushed away the bright red curls that had blown across her face and fixed her deep green eyes on the battered knight. I know he is here and still with a beating heart. I pray my lords, that you allow me to continue my search in peace.

If you were to tell us your master’s name, perhaps we could help in your search? Sir Lucas asked.

Alas my lord, I cannot. He was not of the Arthur’s army but of his enemy’s. You would be bound by duty and honor to execute him if you found him. I beseech you sir, return to your home and your new king and allow me to continue on my way.

It is true if he was… is an enemy we would be bound by our oath, so therefore dear lady, we will leave you then to your bleak task. Farewell and God save you, Sir Bedivere said softly, leaning down from his horse to kiss her hand. I pray that your dream comes true.

Nudging their horses with their heels, the two men rode off leaving the young woman to continue alone.

Her