novel bin Chapter 2 The King's Fault
Chapter 2 The King's Fault
On the third day after Arthur was crowned king, an urgent report came from the border.
"The border post in Cornwall has been attacked." Kay spread the parchment map on the round table, his brow furrowed.
"According to the soldiers who escaped, the enemy numbered about two hundred and carried an unidentified flag—not any known noble coat of arms."
Arthur stood in front of the map, his emerald green eyes scanning every mark.
As is customary, it is common for neighboring powers to send probing harassment when a new king ascends the throne.
The usual approach is to send a small team to expel them, while simultaneously dispatching an envoy to ascertain their identity.
But one of the images he saw in front of the sword in the stone flashed through Arthur's mind.
That was the scene of a border village burning.
He vaguely remembered a flag in the picture, with a black background and a silver wolf's head embroidered on it.
In Kay's report, the attackers were carrying an "unknown flag," which meant it was not the wolf head flag.
But Arthur had a strong intuition that if things were handled conventionally, the wolf's head banner would eventually appear, and the village would burn.
"I'll go myself," Arthur said.
Kai paused for a moment: "You? With the new king's ascension, you should stay in Camelot to stabilize the people's hearts..."
"If the border falls, morale will be even lower." Arthur put on his cloak and hung the sword in the stone at his waist. "Take fifty cavalrymen and set off at dawn tomorrow."
He didn't tell Kay his real reason.
He was afraid, afraid that the burning village would become a reality.
He thought he had witnessed a "potential tragedy".
If he were to intervene personally, he could stop the path leading to tragedy.
The next morning, Arthur led fifty cavalrymen to the border post.
The scene was even more horrific than described in the reports; half of the wooden wall surrounding the outpost had been burned down, and the bodies of soldiers lay scattered on the ground.
Arthur dismounted, crouched down to examine his wounds. The knife marks were messy and disorganized, unlike those of a well-trained army; they seemed more like those of bandits.
"Bandits?" Kai frowned. "Then why didn't they rob us of our belongings, but instead attacked the outpost?"
Arthur stood up and looked toward the distant forest.
He closed his eyes, trying to recall the details of those images: the burning village, the silver wolf banner, and a crucial image: a man in a black cloak standing on high ground overlooking the battlefield.
"They're testing us," Arthur said. "They're not bandits, but the vanguard of some force, attacking the outpost to test our reaction speed."
"Then we should..."
"We'll split into two groups," Arthur interrupted Kay. "You take thirty men and pursue them along the main road, while I'll take twenty men and flank them from the forest to cut off their retreat."
Kai hesitated for a moment, but Arthur's eyes left him with no doubt; Arthur's intuition had never been wrong.
However, this time, they were wrong.
Arthur led twenty cavalrymen through the forest for half a day, following the "possible routes" he remembered.
He remembered that the silver wolf flag in the picture appeared in a clearing on the east side of the forest.
But when he arrived at the open space, there was nothing there.
There were no silver wolf banners, no ambushes, not even footprints.
"Your Majesty," a knight said cautiously, "Have we... gone to the wrong place?"
Arthur did not answer.
His intuition told him he should be here, but reality contradicted his judgment.
He turned his horse around: "Let's go back the way we came and rejoin the main force."
When they returned to the main road, they found Kai's men fighting a group of bandits.
The number of bandits was far greater than expected, at least three hundred, and they were well-equipped. Kai's thirty men had been divided into several small circles, and the situation was critical.
Arthur drew his sword and charged into the battlefield. The sword in the stone drew a dazzling arc of light in the sunlight, severing a bandit's spear in one strike.
His swordsmanship far surpassed that of ordinary people, but even so, the addition of twenty men could not immediately turn the tide of the battle.
The battle lasted for nearly an hour.
Ultimately, the bandits were repelled, but Arthur's side also suffered heavy losses, with twelve knights killed and more than twenty wounded, including Kay.
Kai's left arm was slashed, and blood stained half of his sleeve.
He leaned against the tree, looking at Arthur's expression, hesitant to speak.
"Say whatever you want to say," Arthur said, sitting down beside him. His voice was low.
"Your judgment is correct; they are indeed testing us," Kay said.
"But your tactics are wrong. You left thirty men to fight against three hundred... You overestimated our fighting strength."
Arthur remained silent.
"Furthermore," Kai hesitated for a moment, "why do you think there's an ambush on the east side of the forest? The scouts clearly reported that the area was empty."
Arthur couldn't answer; he couldn't very well say, "I saw it in the fragments of the future."
The images were too blurry and fragmented; he couldn't even pinpoint the exact time the Silver Wolf Banner appeared.
He thought he was "changing his destiny," but in reality, he made wrong judgments because he relied too much on those incomplete premonitions.
"It's my fault," Arthur finally said.
Kai glanced at him and sighed, "You are a king, not a god. It's normal to make mistakes, but next time... at least listen to my opinion first."
Arthur nodded, stood up, and walked toward the body of the fallen knight.
Twelve people died because of his misjudgment.
He crouched down and closed the eyes of a young knight, who was only seventeen years old and had smiled at him just three days earlier at his coronation ceremony.
For the first time, he felt the weight of the crown.
It was late at night when we got back to Camelot.
Arthur did not return to his palace, but instead went up to the city wall alone.
Moonlight shone on his blond hair, and the sword in the stone hung quietly at his waist.
He gazed at the darkness outside the city, his mind replaying the battle of the day, the knights who could have lived, and the price they paid because of his "intuition."
"I thought I could change things," he said softly, "but I can't even do the things right in front of me well."
"Oh, feeling sad all by yourself here?"
A lazy voice came from behind.
Arthur didn't turn around; he knew who it was.
Mary emerged from the shadows, her long, silvery-white hair gleaming softly in the moonlight.
She was wearing a white nightgown—no, it was her magician's robe, but she had pulled the neckline down low, revealing her delicate collarbone.
Their amethyst-like eyes shone like two twinkling stars in the night.
"I heard about it." She walked to Arthur's side, placed her hands on the city wall, and leaned forward slightly.
"The new king's first campaign resulted in the loss of twelve knights. Tsk tsk tsk, that's not exactly honorable."
Arthur did not speak.
"What? Regretting it?" Meryl turned to look at him, a half-smile playing on her lips. "Regretting becoming king? Regretting drawing your sword?"
"No," Arthur's voice was calm. "I was just... wondering if I was being too presumptuous."
"Oh?"
"I thought I saw some 'possibilities' and could change them," Arthur said.
"But what I saw was too blurry, too fragmented. I thought I was preventing a tragedy, but in reality, I was creating a new one."
Mary stared at him for a few seconds, then reached out and poked his cheek with her finger.
"fool."
Arthur turned his head and met her gaze.
"You're only fifteen," Meryl said, her tone unusually devoid of mockery.
"You've only had your sword for three days. What do you think you are, a king? An omniscient and omnipotent god? You haven't even warmed the sword in the stone yet, and you think you can rise to the top in one step?"
"...You don't understand."
"I don't understand." Meryl shrugged.
"All I know is that I have been observing for over a thousand years with my clairvoyance, and I have witnessed the rise and fall of countless kings."
Do you know the difference between successful kings and unsuccessful kings?
"What?"
"A defeated king, after making a mistake, never recovers."
A successful king is one who gets up and keeps going after making a mistake.
Mary patted him on the shoulder: "You just fell down, and you want to lie flat? That's not like you."
Arthur remained silent for a moment.
"Merry, can you see other worlds?"
"No, my far-seeing eyes can only see 'the present'," Melly said.
"But I know one thing: what you saw is called 'Trails of the Stars'."
It was an extremely ancient power, mentioned only briefly in the legends of Avalon.
You can't master it all at once.
"So what should I do?"
Mary tilted her head and thought for a moment, then gave a sly smile: "Find a teacher, you don't actually think you can become a great king by self-study, do you?"
"Teacher? You?"
"I can't do that," Mary waved her hand.
"I'm just here to watch the show, not to teach, and I can't teach you 'how to be a king,' I'm not even human."
Arthur frowned: "Then who can?"
Mary turned around, her long, silvery-white hair fluttering in the night breeze.
She gazed into the darkness, a complex light flashing in her amethyst-like eyes.
"The Land of Shadows," she said softly.
There was a woman who had lived for countless years.
She had killed gods, kings, and everything she wanted to kill.
She was the strongest warrior, and also the loneliest woman.
"What's her name?"
"Scáthach." Meryl turned her head, a slight smile playing on her lips. "But that place isn't one you can just walk into. You'll have to prove you're qualified first."
A light rekindled in Arthur's eyes.
"How can you prove it?"
Mary stretched out her hand, and a faint silver light appeared on her fingers.
With a gentle flick, the wisp of silver light drifted toward Arthur and melted on his chest.
"Find me in the forest tomorrow night," Mary said, her voice regaining its usual lightness.
"Let me teach you some basics first—at least so that you won't get confused when you see some messy scenes next time you go on an expedition."
After she finished speaking, she turned and walked into the shadow of the city wall.
"Merry," Arthur called to her.
She stopped walking, but didn't turn around.
"Thanks."
"...What?!" There was a hint of unease in Mary's voice.
"I just don't want to see you die too soon. Otherwise, wouldn't all my waiting of over a thousand years have been for nothing?"
After saying that, her figure disappeared into the shadows.
Arthur stood on the city wall, gazing at the distant starry sky.
He could not undo the deaths of the twelve knights.
But he can do it... so that the same thing doesn't happen again.
He gripped the hilt of the sword in the stone tightly.
Tomorrow, he's going to find Merry, and then he's going to the Land of Shadows.
He wants to rewrite those "destined" tragedies, one by one.