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That faithful spring the Boy-King, as he was now called, had to draw the [[sword]] from the stone more times than I care to remember and each time more lord came flocking to his side until it seemed like all of [[Britain]] had laid their arms unto him. But as always, or at least so it seems to my weary senses, the lord had more conundrums in store for us. For it was a Pentecost that the arch-druid [[Merlin]] the Magician can unto me and my good friends whilst we were occupied with guarding parts of the White Tower. In his usually mysterious ways he asked to speak to us all in private and, a far as I can understand, begat strange council to us all. Most of his words are unknown to me, and are probably bound to be lost in the ages, but of the great things that came from that council, deeds that will resist the march of time, the greatest at that moment was the arch-druids decision to let my good friend Sir [[Cadry]] of [[Tisbury]] knight the young king. Sir [[Cadry]] prepared as best as one can for the knighting of a king and a great feast was held in [[London]]. Yet trouble was brewing in the north even before the crown had touched blessed Arthurs head. With his hosts of loyal knight [[Arthur]] set forth eastwards towards [[Carlion]] where [[the Supreme Collegium]] had gathered. What word that were uttered between those high men neither I or my friends were privy to but after [[mere]] half-a-day of contemplation the good Lords made their decision: [[Arthur]] was to be named High King of Britton. Iโm sure you readers who have followed my chronicles so far can imagine the celebration and rejoice among all good men in Britton at such good news. For almost sixteen years the throne had been empty and anarchy had ruled the fine lands of Britton. Now, finally, a rightful king had ascended throne; proclaiming peace and good will towards men. Those days of feasting are so blurred by joy that no matter how I try I canโt remember them; just that feeling of hope and contentment. It is therefore not strange that when High King [[Arthur]] heard that King Lot with many other great kings of the north had arrived outside of [[Carlion]] he celebrated their arrival and sent for gifts. But as we approached the camp of King Lot I and my good friends grew weary. The northerners came clad in armor and with sharpened blades and as we rode up into the kings encampment King Lot had nothing but crude jokes and bitter triads to greet us with. At this moment my young nephew, Sir Cyn, rightfully spoke up and questioned the Kings harsh words and in better times I would not have had to hush him. But these are still dark times in [[Logres]] and honest word can be awfully costly. As young Sir Cyn and young Sir [[Brynach]] rode to warn the High King and prepare for war me and Sir [[Cadry]] escorted the gifts King Lot had so rudely refused back to [[Carlion]], our minds already set for the battle to come. My son always asked me why I let the two young men ride ahead of us and to him I always said that I feared for their life. I said that king lot would not hesitate an instance in riding down Sir [[Brynach]] and the Sir Cyn, whom also had just embarrassed him, but that he would stay his [[sword]] if me and Sir [[Cadry]] where guarding the treasure. Iโm afraid I was not entirely truthful. It was clear to me from the moment the young king received his crown that a new age was dawning and I felt in my aching back and legs that perhaps I was not ready for this new age. This age belongs to the young and the hopeful; therefore I let them ride forth, so that they themselves can mold their destiny.
Unfinished
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