Snippet #2678581

"Oh hell fuckin yeah. I’m so hungry I could eat a sand worm, the whole motherfucking thing. Let’s go somewhere we can sit down and eat some good ass food." Mordred raised a quizzical eyebrow as he led Amir out of the door and into the street once more.
"Those truly exist? I always thought they were nothing more than a myth. Surely there can't be enough sand for them to burrow well." After all, he reasoned, even the dirt gives way to stone if one digs deep enough.

The streets had calmed down a slight amount in their absence. It was just about the first hour past noon, judging on the sun as it peeked behind the clouds, which was the usual time most ate their midday meal. It made sense though that most would chose to either wait a little bit or eat a bit earlier, so as to avoid the crowding that sometimes happened around the more popular food business's. Still, he walked quickly through the crowd, focusing on picking his path in between the small clumps of people when the gaps formed. Most were too preoccupied with the shops around them to really notice the pair walking by.

"You know, this place isn’t too bad when Trytheus isn’t around to annoy the shit out of you." Mordred had to chuckle at that. Trytheus did have a certain way to rub people the wrong way with an almost unnatural skill. He had to wonder if it was the mans personality that caused it or he just held the kind of aura that made people feel generally uneasy and angry. It was like the man was angry bear, unpredictable and dangerous and not just a little irritating to try to placate.
"Us mortal folk do tend to be a little more amenable compared to the Riders, present company excluded of course. Its just that... Well, we've grown used to our own Rider being as he is that any others are viewed with a bit of suspicion when it turns out they don't act the same."

It didn't take much longer for the smells of gently cooking food to return pleasantly. Though it had taken them longer than if they had decided to go through the alleyways again, Mordred was reluctant to going through there again right now. He wasn't exactly sure if more fiends were lurking the shadows, nor would he be sure that he could simply deflect them this time. And though he didn't doubt Amirs fighting skill he wasn't exactly willing to risk a sword fight in such enclosed quarters if at all possible. He was however now at a crossroads at where to go to find food. It would be possible to find a good tavern, but he wasn't exactly in the mood for the stuffy air and overpowering smell of ale that followed every meal there. Instead that left him to decide which shop would work well enough, some places knew him and some didn't. Either group would work, but perhaps it would be good to demonstrate some proper wholesome Amstrian food to Amir that came from the simple folk rather than the cooks in the Keep. With his destination set he set his quick pace off once more, trusting Amir to be able to follow in good step.

They came up to the stone buildings where Mordred was sure he could find something good to eat. Customers usually tended to buy their food and then leave to eat elsewhere so he was fairly confident that they could get something to eat without waiting in a long line when he heard Amir behind.
"Has anyone tried to kidnap you before?"
He stopped dead in his tracks. Had anyone tried to kidnap him? No, of course not, that would be ridiculous wouldn't it?

He couldn't help but remembering his childhood. The last day of his childhood. His father had left earlier to go on a boar hunt, his father loved to hunt, the hall was lined with the heads of his kills that he loudly liked to boast about. Though Mordred couldn't remember the tales of the hunt his father had told him as a child, he remembered he always felt happy at his fathers happiness.

Ancestors he remembered it all.

---

"Mordred? Are you in here?" The young boy stilled a giggle as his nursemaid walked past his hiding spot behind a wicker basket. He had managed to slip away from her whilst she was looking out of a window and had spent the last ten minutes hiding from her. "Well if you're not in here I suppose I'll just have to have afternoon tea without you." His ears pricked up at the thought of not being able to have his beloved lemon cakes. That just wouldn't do!

"I'm here!" He cried, jumping out from behind the basket. The four year old boy had done a surprisingly good job of curling up into a ball so that he couldn't be seen. His nursemaid jumped back in mock surprise, a hand flying to her heart.
"My Mordred, you frightened me. I would never have found you there!" She moved quickly to pick the young boy up before he could scurry off again, eliciting a fit of giggles as he was lifted into the air. "Come on then. Lets find you some cakes then shall we?" The young boy bounced happily against the nursemaids chest at the sound of finally getting his cakes.

She carried him through the stone halls, spring light bleeding through the open castle windows that light up the stone in a wondrous yellow light. The young boy made a game of trying to grab the antlers of the heads that lined across the hall, actually managing to just about grasp the tip of one before his nursemaid caught what he was up to and stopped to see what exactly he was trying to grab over his shoulder. "Oh? What have you found there?" Turning to see the animals head mounted on the wall she smiled down at the boy in her arms. "What animal is that Mordred?"
"Is elk!" Mordred declared happily. The nursemaid looked down sternly at him.
"It is an elk, Mordred. Proper pronunciation is always important." The young boy nodded solemnly as he mouthed 'it is an' over and over.

The nursemaid carried the boy over to one of the wide window frames an sat against the stone sill. The castle that was the boys home sat atop a hill, in the middle of a huge woods, where trees sometimes reached as high as the castle walls themselves. If one looked very hard they could see the plains just beyond the edge of the treeline. Or they could look down where the trees were cut back from the walls and the huge track that was the main road up the gates of the castle and lose themselves in trying to watch the swaying of the branches. "Where do elk come from Mordred?"
"Out there! With the deer in the woods." The boy beamed up at his teacher.
"Very good, but you also find them out in the plains too. Deer are like us, they are happy wherever they are, as long as they are with their families." Mordred didn't really seem to take in the lesson as he looked out into the treeline, as though he was looking very hard to see if a herd of deer were looking back at him.
"Will I hunt deer one day?"
"I suppose you will, yes."
"I'm going to be the best hunter in the world!" Mordred declared happily. The nursemaid chuckled happily at the boys enthusiasm.
"I think your father may have to have words with you about that." The young boy didn't really know what to make of that so he returned to looking out of the window into the trees.

His eyes were suddenly drawn by a group of men riding fast towards the castle, with a wagon being pulled behind them. He recognised the pennon being flown by one of them as the banner of Mulasice, the banner of his home. The burning tree on a field of green was hoisted all around the castle that was home. He could see that the men didn't wear the shiny armour of the knights and instead wore simple browns and greens that could only mean it was his father, returning from the hunt he had departed on some day earlier
"Papa!" He called out, wriggling out of the nursemaids grip and speeding off down the halls, with the woman trying to give chase to young boy. Down the stone hall and down flights of twisting stairs until he came to a small door that opened out into the courtyard beyond.

The first thing he noticed as he exploded excitedly out was that he couldn't see his father. The men had arrived in the courtyard but everyone was clustered around the cart that had been following behind the party. He could see the group hurrying around then began to move towards the main doors of the castle, whilst he stood next to the door to one of the towers. He could see that in their midst that they were carrying someone. And as they got closer he could see that they were carrying his father. He didn't understand, he just looked like he was sleeping. But his face was pale and he was breathing fast and hard. Before he could hurry over to find out what was going on he felt his nursemaid snatch him up from behind, having finally caught up with him.
"Come away now Mordred, its time for your afternoon tea."
"Whats happened to papa? Is he alright?"
"He'll be fine. Come on now." She carried him inside once more.

The rest of the day passed with a sense like the air was holding its breath. Everyone moved with a nervous energy and people were often passing back and forth about the place with an uncertain look in their eye and quickness in their step. Mordred ate his evening meal alone that night, that never happened. The large seat at the table that was his fathers sat empty, whilst the smaller seat next to it was always empty. He had heard that that was his mothers seat, but he had never met his mother and didn't know exactly where she was. He had overheard some people whispering that she had passed away trying to give him to the world, but he didn't know what that meant either. Even some of the men who often wore shiny armour didn't eat with him.

That night he couldn't sleep. The way people were acting had left him restless and counting sheep was doing nothing to help him, so he decided to take a walk though the castle to try to tire himself out a bit. The castle was practically deserted and when he eventually did hear voices it was only two of them. He recognised one as Sir Mallisent, the man his father had called a 'master-at-arms' and Devon, the man who would sit on his fathers throne when his father was off hunting. He could just about make out what they were saying as he approached.

"-ou saw him in there. Don't tell me you think it's all going to go fine and dandy." The voice of Sir Mallisent. It sounded angry for some reason.
"I don't know! He has the kings blood in him, that must count for something." Devon sounded scared and confused.
"What good is that going to do him? How many men have you seen walk off being gored through the gut, Devon?"
"No many. But you don't know. It might be alright. We can't start to panic right now. After all, apothecary Casius said..."
"Never mind what the apothecary said, we still have to take precautions just in case. I have already sent a raven to the king. A contingent of knights will be here shortly."
"You've done what?! Sullest is still alive and you're already scheming up some plot?" It was here that Mordred, who had been leaning around the door frame of the room that the two men had been arguing in when Mallisent spotted his little face peering in.
"Mordred! What are you doing up? You should be abed!" He made a gesture and a guard who had been standing just out of sight emerged. The man smiled kindly to the little boy and made to pick up him.
"Come on now little one, Sir Mallisent is right. Lets get you back to bed."

The nervous air hung around for the next few days when it was broken suddenly by the arrival of strangers in the castle. The strange men rode in wearing shiney armour and held shields with a circle and a hammer painted on. Behind the men a covered carriage followed shortly behind. Mordred was brought not long after they had arrived. One of the men was talking to Sir Mallisent, who quickly concluded their conversation and strode over to the boy. He armoured man knelt down and smiled at the boy, but the boy couldn't help but notice the smile didn't really each the mans eyes.
"Hello there, Mordred. I am Lord Kalice, and I am here to take you to the capital. You're going to be the ward of the king, it's a very high honour thats only afforded to you because he is your spiritual ancestor. Did you know that?" The young boy gave a confused nod. He didn't like the man, he just felt... Wrong. All together alien to him, in the way he talked to the way his voice just held the underline sound of someone who gets whatever he wants no matter what he must do for it. Kalice stood up and placed a hand on the back of Mordreds head, guiding him over to the carriage. He looked back to the castle to see if he was doing the right thing. He would have bolted back there if he didn't see his nursemaid stood by the steps to the doors nodding him onwards. It looked like she was fighting back tears and he could feel them welling up inside himself. He didn't understand what was going on.

He was urged, fairly roughly inside the carriage. Thankfully Kalice didn't try to follow him inside and instead shut the door behind him, locking the latch so he could escape. He almost fell over as the carriage lurched forwards and he tried desperately to look out of the window as the castle fell away. As he was forced to leave his home behind.

He didn't understand why this was happening. And it wouldn't be for another ten years until he had the chance to return to his home.

---

Mordred felt a shuddering breath leave his lips. He quickly blinked away the sting in his eyes as tears threatened to form. His gaze slowly dropped to the sword at his hip, the last and only piece of his father that he had to remember him by. His father had died whilst he had been on the road to city. He hadn't even been able to return to say goodbye as his father was entombed. It took him ten years until he could finally say his farewells. Ten long years too late. But surely the men had taken him away for his own good. They had taken him to learn with the best, to be moulded into a steadfast knight and a protector of the people. They had taken him so that he could fulfil his duty to his name, his people, his eternal ancestor. Could anyone really call that kidnapping if it were done with such good intentions in mind?

"Yes." He answered weakly, he couldn't fail to hear just how pathetic and soft his voice was. He stepped inside the stone building quickly, trying to get away from the spot so the feelings of sorrow welling up in chest couldn't follow him. Luckily inside there were few people and it was light and airy, the smell of food thick and appealing. There were a few tables that sat next to the open windows and most of them sat empty. Nor was there a cue so Mordred could quickly place the order. He ordered a pair of pastries for himself and Amir, they were semi-circles of thick pastries with even thicker crusts around the curved edge. He knew from experience that they held thick cuts of choice beef ass well as cubes of turnips, potatoes and diced onion, somehow they even managed to contain a thick and rich gravy. Thankfully two such pastries were sitting waiting to be ordered so they were handed over to him on a pewter platter. Mordred made his way over to one of the table and placed the platter down on the side. On the walk from counter to table he had kept his eyes downcast, to the casual observer it would look like he was just making sure they didn't slide off the platter but if one paid close attention they could see his eyes were unfocused as he wrestled on the inner conflict in himself, trying to cast away the long held sadness that festered in his heart. He sat down at the table and looked down at the pastries, watching the steam rising off of them. "Careful." He muttered, his voice still not returned to its normal joyful tones. "They're hot. Best to let them cool a bit."