King Arthur died in a fierce battle defending Camelot. His reign and the round table of knights fell also. This happened in the year of 537 a.d. Camelot was sacked by marauding Viking tribes from across the water to the east. They destroyed the Round Table and took all the gold, silver and other valuables. Camelot was in disarray with many of its people killed or enslaved.
The ivy covered castle walls still stood but the heart and soul of Camelot was no longer. There had been vicious fighting but Arthur’s knights were no match for the type of warfare the Viking hordes employed. They slew peasants and impregnated their women to further the Viking blood line. Their barbarous ways scattered people into the forest. No longer did they have Arthur’s protection.
After pillaging all that was valuable, the Vikings returned to their homeland leaving a destroyed and defeated populace.
Only one Viking stayed to live in the land of Camelot. Vulf was one of the less barbaric of the invaders. In one instance he shielded some of the peasants from the other invaders. He told them, “These people have no swords with which to fight and no valuables to take. Go and leave them alone.”
With Camelot looted, the invaders left the wreck of the castle and its inhabitants to return to their homeland. That is, most of them did. Vulf was old for a Viking fighter. He was still a large imposing figure with his massive flaming red hair. After many years of the warring Viking ways he had now lost his taste for fighting.
His eye found a young peasant girl as her eye found him. Named Judith, she was grateful that he had spared her and her friends. She saw a countenance in him that belied an inner peace. It showed strength as well as compassion.
Vulf and Judith spoke different verbal languages but theirs was a language of the heart. Their attraction led to a common betrothal.
Vulf set to work building a small structure in which the two would live. He felled trees to make some clear space. The trees became a lean to type of the structure with one narrow end open. In one corner of their abode he fashioned a stone fireplace. Many a fish or rabbit would be roasted over its open fire.
Vulf had set the cabin near the sheltering woods but also close to a clear stream that ran over a rock bottom. The stream supplied clean water for them. Fish were plentiful. Judith used a crude net of vines to trap a few of the silver scaled swimmers. Meanwhile Vulf now spent much of his time hunting in the forest. He fashioned a spear from a straight limb. An adept hunter, he could fell a deer or even several fish with a one straight throw. The meat was food for the table. The skins covered the outside of the cabin to seal the cracks from the weather.
One day while several fish dangled on his spear he heard the sound of pain. He abruptly turned expecting to see an enemy. Rather he spied an old man leaning on a cane. A long gray beard covered the features of his face. He was unusually dressed in a green fabric robe rather than the common leather from skins. His hunched frail body still carried a strong voice.
“I come in peace”, he said. “I have a wound that needs treatment. If you could help me I would forever be in your debt.”
In a moment the man passed out as his body collapsed on the moss covered forest floor.
“Judith, come quickly.”
The Vulf lifted the man. Judith held his head while he was slowly and gently carried him to the house. Vulf spread several deer skins over a crude bed framed with branches. Judith softened it with the large leaves from a Hazel tree. The wound in his side was treated as best they could. Judith made a warm soup on the corner of the stone fireplace. The man would often drink of this and nod his satisfaction then return to sleep. Vulf brought in several pelts he had skinned in order to cover their guest and keep him warm. Over time the man gradually began to regain his strength. After a month of kindness, and with Judith’s help the man was soon able to walk.
“I have no money to repay your kindness.” he told Vulf and Judith. “I can only promise what you cannot see. You are good people and you will have a pleasant life. You will be safe here so long as I shall live.”
He waved a hand around the room and with his cane walked toward the woods.
“Wait, cried Judith and Vulf in unison, “we never asked your name. By what shall we remember you?”
The man stopped at the edge of the clearing. He turned slowly, rotating around his cane, “Arthur called me Merlin.” With that he vanished.
In the second year of their being together a son was born to Vulf and Judith. They named the boy Pawlth. He was a robust child obviously of good stock. His piercing blue eyes foretold an ability to see clearly. Pawlth’s first few years were spent arranging sticks into cages where he trapped imaginary animals. Vulf would show him how to tan a skinned a hide. Pawlth was a fast learner.
Pawlth, barely in his fifth year, began to learn the archer’s bow. Being small but not only strong for his age Pawlth made a bow imitating his father’s bow. When he was not helping his mother with the chores Pawlth spent time with his bow and the reeds he used for arrows. Vulf was proud of his son when the boy began to bring in rabbits for dinner. As Pawlth grew, Vulf recognized the abilities of his son. He began to spend more time with him teaching the ways of a dangerous world to the child. Pawlth easily learned his father’s lessons. Though he brought down bigger prey and speared more fish, Pawlth needed more. He had learned much of the ways of a man from his father but he learned of the warmth of the soul from his mother. Killing for food for the family table was unemotional. He had yet to be temped to kill for any other reason.
As he grew to his sixteenth’s year Pawlth began to spend more time in the woods, living off the land. Soon he would spend as much as several weeks alone in the forest. He depended on his skills to survive. Once as Pawlth, with learned stealth, moved quietly through the woods he heard the cry of something hurt. It was spring time and the sprouting foliage hid the location of the cry. Pawlth approached cautiously with his bow string taunt. He placed an arrow and drew his bow. Clearing the brush he saw a young male wolf. One of his forelegs was caught in the fork of a sapling. Having pulled and jerked while trying to free himself, the young wolf had torn the bleeding skin down to the bone. Pawlth released the tension of the bowstring. At the point of giving up, the wolf allowed Pawlth to approach. Standing facing the wolf, Pawlth threw one shoulder in to the heavy side of the fork. Then he pushed the other side of the fork until it the small tree split. The exhausted young wolf dropped to the ground. His close set eyes peering over his long nose knew he was at the mercy of Pawlth. He didn’t know what to expect. Pawlth had a brief thought about killing the wolf, skinning him for his hide. Their eyes met. Pawlth looked into the steely eyes of the wolf and saw an animal that would depend on him for his life. This was the beginning of a bond between two souls.
Pawlth pulled a strip of rabbit hide from his bag. Dipping water from a nearby stream he gently washed the wolf’s leg. Pulling the skin back over the open flesh, he wrapped the wound with broad Hazel leaves. He then covered the leaf with the strip of hide. He bound this with vines, a procedure he performed each day for a week. He left each day to hunt for a rabbits or other game only to return each evening to the wounded wolf where they shared an evening meal.
“Okay wolf, if we are going to be friends you need a name. How about Marrok? That is the name of one of Arthur’s knights that my mother talked about.”
Pawlth spent the week in the woods close to Marrok. His arrows brought them food. He found that here in the solitary woods he enjoyed the company of Marrok. Pawlth felt a sense of value by helping one he could have killed. Marrok was beginning to walk now. He showed no indication that he wanted to leave Pawlth, in fact he edged closer to him at night when the forest seemed to close in.
After a month in the woods, something Pawlth did often, he knew it was time to go home. Marrok followed him closely even though he had what would be a permanent limp. It was a day’s walk as they picked their way through the forest. Pawlth brought down several rabbits he would present to his parents for a meal. He wasn’t sure of the welcome that Marrok would get.
Approaching the clearing of their home,Pawlth could see smoke. Then he saw there were only the embers of their home. His mother, Judith lay dead. Vulf was mortally wounded. There was nothing left but the stone fireplace.
Pawlth held the dying Vulf’s head with cupped hands. Vulf summoned a few last words, “My sword is behind the stone fireplace. I hammered it from knives. Merlin said it would be special, that it should be used it wisely.”
Pawlth gently laid Vulf’s lifeless head to one side while he turned to his mother. Even in death her beauty shown through.
Marrok sensed the situation and lay quietly,
very close to Pawlth. Marrok also had fear, rage, and revenge among other his thoughts.
There was a crude shovel. Vulf had fashioned it years ago, forging it over the fire. Pawlth used his father’s tool to lay him to rest. It took a day’s work to complete the two graves. With tears in his eyes, the sixteen year old Pawlth covered them at dusk.
Marrok, watched, his presence never wavered. The next morning Pawlth picked through the still warm embers of the house. He was looking for a specific item. Vulf had said it was behind the stone fireplace. He had hammered and shaped it from a Viking knife. Vulf used it to kill and tenderize the meat from the wild animals he caught.
Yes, it was still there. Pawlth did as he was told. Before he had never been allowed touch the sword. Strength swelled his head as he retrieved the sword from behind the stone.
He turned to Marrok. “Which way do we go?”
Marrok sniffed the ground. He immediately pointed toward a trail running north. Pawlth followed. He had spent many days in the forest but had never ventured to follow any trails. He liked to pick his own way. Marrok kept his nose down sniffing the trail left by the murdering thief.
Two days of following the path led by Marrok found them on a rocky hilltop. They slept easily that night. A full moon cloaked them. Awakening, Pawlth made out the remains of the castle at Camelot. His heart raced that here he might find the one he sought. He wiped the dew from blade of the sword and shouldered his bow. Suddenly Marrok stopped and lay on the ground. Pawlth thought this odd until he looked up. There stood a rather portly man dressed in green fabric not the usual leather clothes. He had no weapons.
“Pawlth, you don’t know me yet though I know you as my father knew Vulf your father. I know your quest. I know you will fail if you do not heed my advice. However, if you choose to take my assistance you, with the help of Marrok, will find the murderer of your parents. The one you seek now rules the castle. He has savagely and ruthlessly murdered his way to power. He and his warriors have enslaved many poor people at this time. There is a great need for you to come there now.”
“How do you know me? Who are you to know my name?” said Pawlth.
“You may remember that your father spoke of my father. He had a wound that your parents helped to heal. His name was Merlin, advisor to Arthur. After Arthur was killed, his work in Camelot was finished. Leaderless, Camelot was pillaged. My father took refuge in the forest not far from your home. One day he stopped to drink from a stream. Bent down, he never saw an errant bull charging. Thrown in the steam and injured, he dragged himself to your home.
Your parents were good people. They took him in, healed him, as if he were one of their own. My father did all he could to allow you and your family to live in peace. When his life ended I was too far away to help your parents. Something I have sincerely regretted. Perhaps I can atone for that. You will know me as Zoelin.”
“But why do you seek me now? I am only one with Marrok but there are many at the castle.
“I have seen through my father that you are of good stock. I watched you care for Marrok when it would have been easy to kill him. I know of your skill with the bow and the spear. All of these things will be necessary for you to defeat these thieves and invaders. If you have faith in me and my advice you will be the anointed one. We shall see if you have the strength and the will.”
Pawlth looked down to see Marrok’s eyes meet his. They seemed to agree that this quest must be done.
“Pawlth, you must hide the sword.”
“But what will I have for protection?”
“I will see that Marrok stays close and protects you from any real danger. You will need to befriend the ruler of the castle. When you have his confidence we will proceed further.” With that Zoelin vanished.
Pawlth scanned the granite outcropping close by. There was a narrow crevice nearby that Pawlth could reach. He placed Vulf’s sword carefully inside, just far enough back so it couldn’t be seen when covered with smaller stones.
Pawlth looked at Marrok, “Well, I suppose we have a job to do.” He gave Marrok a playful neck rub.
Marrok moved closer and rubbed Pawlth’s leg as if he understood. He may well have. Pawlth slung the long bow over his shoulder. He was already thinking about how to approach the castle.
He pulled out an arrow. When the tight bowstring loosened, the rabbit had no chance. Pawlth and Marrok shared the rabbit that evening. Pawlth knew this might be their only meal for a day or two.
The trek to the castle took another half day. The trail was getting wider with the tracks of horse drawn carts. Pawlth knew the pair must stay in the woods so as not to be seen. Walking through the forest was much more difficult.
Their arrival was a surprise when they stood at the gate. A guard appeared and challenged the pair.
“I am but a poor lad”, Pawlth said, “I am in need of lodging and food for the night. A pile of straw will do. My friend will do no harm,” he said as he ran his hand between Marrok’s ears.
“Wait here,” came the gruff voice of the guard. A short time later the guard motioned Pawlth to follow him. “But not him,” he said pointing to Marrock.
“We’ll leave. Marrok goes where I go.”
“Follow me then, I’ll let Grendal deal with you.”
Grendal, the chieftain of the castle, sat cross legged, on a stone, leaning against a castle wall. Arthur’s throne had long since been burned and destroyed. Grendal was not young but he held to a youthful appearance with a gravely voice and a square, stout frame.
“Why do you come here with that…. that animal? I should banish you this instant. However, I am intrigued by your friend. Does he have a name?”
“Marrok, I saved him from an injury. He is my constant companion.”
“You come here seeking lodging and food. Why do you seek that here?”
“The castle is large, I can see there are many rooms and many mouths to feed. Please allow me a place to sleep. I would only seek a few meager meals for myself and Marrok.”
“I see you carry a longbow. I believe you to be too young to use it well.” Grendal spoke. “Very well, I will see if you can earn your keep. I am sending for Tillian, the best archer we have at the castle. I will let the two of you furnish some entertainment”, said Grendal as his treacherous humor showed through.
Tillian appeared on the green, rough and unclean, but ready for a challenge.
“Each of you will only be allowed one arrow to face the other.” Declared Grendal, “We will see who is the better with a bow.” Then, looking at Pawlth, “We will see about lodging, as if it will be needed.”
The green was flat and long. The sun was high. Tillian enjoyed Grendal’s mirth, expecting a rewarding out come as the time neared.
Pawlth and Tillian each stepped off fifty paces. Tillian’s face showed disdain toward his young opponent, a mere boy. His eyes squinted with a warrior’s countenance. He had been in these contests before. The two turned to face each other. Tillian was quick to release his arrow. Pawlth hesitated, taking good aim. Tillian’s arrow was split in two by Pawlth’s arrow. Tillian’s arrow’s halves passed on each side of the stoic Pawlth’s head. Grendal stood and applauded Pawlth.
“Lad you have proven yourself to be here. I have never seen such marksmanship. Thus, I bestow upon you and Marrok lodging and sustenance for as long as you desire to be here.”
A disgraced Tillian sulked as he returned to the castle.
With that Grendal summoned Adelmar to find suitable quarters for the two. The room had a straw bed covered with hides. There was no door only a curtain. The window could be closed only with a leather flap. Pawlth needed the rest and lay down. After petting Marrok on the head and rubbing his silver mane both he and Pawlth were soon asleep. Marrok, however, took up a place in a corner facing the doorway.
Tillian had felt anger at the young Pawlth showing him up. He knew Grendal would soon replace him as the guard in favor. He drew his sword as he neared Pawlth’s doorway. Peering in he could tell Pawlth was asleep. He did not see Marrok on the floor when he approached his sleeping target. Tillian grasped the sword with both hands raising it to stab Pawlth. The sword hit the ground as Marrok closed his jaws around Tillian’s neck. As he had done when catching wild game Marrok shook Tillian violently. Tillian never made a sound as he lay dead on the floor with a broken neck. Pawlth awakened to witness the spectacle. He dragged the limp Tillian out into the courtyard.
Back in his room he stroked the silver mane once more. As he lay down he pulled Marrok close with an arm draped over him. They slept peacefully the rest of the night. The morning was another matter.
The commotion at dawn awoke the people of the castle. Grendal shoved his way through the crowd.
Pawlth waited.
Grendal pointed his sword at Pawlth, “What is the meaning of this?”
“Tillian came to my room when I was asleep. As he raised his sword Marrok lunged. Look and you will see the marks on Tilian’s neck. Marrok shook him till his neck was broken. Look inside my room and you will see Tilian’s sword stuck where it fell upright in the floor by my bed. I had no ill will toward Tillian. Why he attacked I do not know.”
Grendal said to the crowd, “Carry him off way out in the woods and cover him with dirt.”
He turned to Pawlth, “Both jealously and revenge can be cruel to the holder.”
Pawlth and Marrok approached Grendal to thank him for the night’s lodging.
Grendal spoke, “Pawlth you have proven to be the one to sit beside me. You will share my companionship in this castle. There are many stories to tell. When I would range around the forest I slew many men and often their women. I recall one fellow put up such a fight that I burned his house down. He fought to where he would die shortly. The woman was…. well a woman. Pawlth, you never want to leave one alive lest they come to find you.”
Now Pawlth knew for sure. He steeled himself to not reveal his quest, that would come later.
“This evening all of us will share a feast. Ale will flow like water in the stream.” Grendal shouted. “You, Pawlth, will be anointed as my honored guard. It will be a joyous occasion.”
Pawlth was careful to only appear to partake of the ale. Grendal was not so. He imbibed copious amounts of it. Neither did Pawlth have a hunger to slice off a slab of the pig for dinner. Again, he kept the pretense of eating and drinking. The feast lasted to well into the night.
Pawlth helped an incapacited Grendal from the table. He leaned him against the outside castle wall. Grendal was now in a stupor from the ale. Pawlth took a rope from his pocket. He bound Grendal’s wrist. Minutes later, Pawlth brought around a horse that he had staked out. He backed the horse up to Grendal. Splitting the hair on the horse’s tail, Pawlth wove the hair over and under Grendal’s hands tying them together to the tail. Marrok made sure the horse stood still until dawn was breaking.
A surprised Grendal began to wake, “What is the meaning of this,” he said.
Pawlth began, “You are the one that killed my father Vulf and my mother Judith. I could have plunged you through with your own sword. But that would have been too swift. Sometimes killing one can be too easy. Your punishment is one that will cause you pain and agony. Even then you might not survive. You will have had time to think of all your evil deeds as you wallow in what the horse does naturally. So now, as you are tied to the tail of a horse where this horse steps you will also step. Perhaps some soul in a far off place will free you from the horse. You understand that you must never come back to this castle. If you do I will know that you had time to remember all your evil deeds. You will then remember no longer.”
Marrok moved to Pawlth’s side as Pawlth slapped the flank of the horse to get him moving. Grendal had no choice but to follow the horse’s hooves no matter the consequences.
By this time many of the people of the castle had gathered around. When Grendal was out of sight there erupted a cheer,
“Pawlth, Pawlth, Pawlth.”
A lady stepped from the crowd. “I have watched you all the time you have been here. You have shown courage as well as confidence. Even in your youth, everyone here will accept you as the new chieftain. And you are as handsome with that blond hair and square jaw as you are young.” she said while parting her hair on each side of her radiant face.
“You know me but I don’t know you. What is your name?”
“I am known as Ardith. I have many duties here including serving the chieftain. I will be your host and at your command.”
Pawlth was uncertain of this turn of events. Marrok seemed to feel the same. Never before had Pawlth been the object of such attention. His time in the forest did little to prepare him for this elevated position. He didn’t realize his own naiveté could betray his desires.
Pawlth had never come under the spell of a woman before. This was a new experience for him. Suddenly he acquired some new feelings that he had not known. He did notice Ardith’s flowing curves. The way she parted and caressed her long hair fascinated him. Her tanned round face with its slanted almond eyes followed him, beckoning.
But for now there were things to do at the castle. Even though he knew his own longbow was true, he sent Adelmar and Aart into the forest to find game for the evening meal. He spent the rest of the day inspecting the castle and the fields around it. He spoke with the enslaved ones who farmed the land and grew the wheat. He watched as a horse drawn mill ground the meal to make bread. In the butcher’s quarters hung pigs for bacon.
Pawlth knew it was not right to keep them against their will. If they were empowered with a fair return most would stay he thought. He decided that tomorrow he would speak to all of them. At day’s end as the sun was setting below the tree line, Pawlth returned to the castle as the evening dinner of a small boar and several fish were prepared. Pawlth sat at the head of the table, flanked by Marrok and Ardith. This was not a round table but a large split log presenting a flat face to the diners.
To conquer the darkness the ends of some saplings were dipped in a mixture of grease and wax. Positioned around the table, when lit they provided a meager but adequate amount of light.
Pawlth and Ardith conversed long into the night. The fires for light had long since burned out. At one point Pawlth mentioned he would free the slaves in the morning.
“Oh, don’t do that.” Said Ardith, “The poor things won’t know what to do. We need them to tend the garden, cook and do other chores. The castle just wouldn’t work without them.”
“Are you sure?” said Pawlth.
“Yes, we need them. Not only that but we must send out a raiding party to bring us more sustenance. We have little gold left to pay our warriors. We are poor.”
Ardith spent more than a few nights using her whiles to convince Pawlth of the need to do her bidding. Those nights Marrok found other things to do. They weren’t spent near Pawlth.
Pawlth rolled over to face the morning sunlight, his eyes barely open. A green robed Zoelin was standing over him.
“Pawlth, do not allow your heart to overrule your soul.” With that he vanished.
Pawlth awoke hungry. He didn’t notice that Marrok was not by his side when Ardith joined him.
Ardith had spent several weeks convincing Pawlth.
“There is a village by the coast only three days from here.” said Ardith. “I spent some time there. I know it has few defenders. Being on the coast there are ships that bring in gold treasure from other countries. As chieftain you must realize the need to bolster our coffers. We must pay our warriors to survive.”
Pawlth appreciated Ardith’s thoughts but this was all too soon for him.
“Pawlth, you with your longbow and three warriors could vanquish that village. Then you could keep this castle in good time. We would be sustained for many years.”
Pawlth again failed to notice that Marrok spent little time at his side since the arrival of Ardith. Pawlth remembered the words of Zoelin.
Saying to himself, “He must have meant for me to have the courage to do what is necessary to save the castle.” Pawlth failed to realize this was Ardith’s wish not his.
Marrok kept his distance from the pair. He watched the two of them for a few moments then he turned away, going into the forest.
“Ardith, it has been several weeks, I must do as we spoke. I will select four of our best warriors and set out tomorrow.
For three days the group lived off of the land as they trekked toward the village of Glenshire. Lying quietly atop a hill, Pawlth parted the tall grass to view the entire layout of Glenshire. It was not a large village. Pawlth decided to wait until the fleet left the harbor. Then as Ardith had said there would be few men to defend the store.
Deeming the time to be right, Pawlth and his men descended upon the village. With his longbow Pawlth brought down two defenders. To his surprise at least one hundred defending warriors appeared. Pawlth’s longbow was useless in the hand to hand fighting that occurred. Pawlth could not comprehend the vicious defense where there was supposed to be such a small amount of resistance. Did they know he was coming? He put up a valiant fight. They were clearly out numbered. Pawlth and all but one of his men fell to the defenders.
Screaming, Aart approached the castle after he had been away for more than a week. “They are all gone! Pawlth has been slain. I escaped by swimming down the shoreline of the harbor. There were many of them, only few of us. I am the only one to survive.”
With that Aart collapsed at Ardith’s feet. She allowed a faint smile to cross her lips. Her plan had worked. She would alone be the chieftain of the castle.
That day Marrok stood by the castle gate. He heard Aart’s words. He had seen Ardith’s reaction.
His silver gray coat glimmering in the morning sun, he slowly turned away never to return to the castle. With a gait marred by a crippled leg, Marrok followed the trail to his new den in the forest. He disappeared with a heavy heart. It was difficult for him to catch game given that he still had a slight limp. Still he managed to provide enough for himself and Caelan. Marrok had chosen Caelan for a mate a few months ago. She had a slight build for a wolf. Her strange blue eyes set peered out over her long nose. Yet she always exuded a warm feeling when Marrok entered the den. With the passing of Pawlth, Marrok spent most of his time providing and caring for Caelan.
One chilly night the wind’s howl was muted as Caelan lay against the bank of leaves that Marrok had made for a bed. A slight cry was heard in the den. Caelan had only one pup. Marrok hovered near.
Caelan had licked the pup clean when something made a shuffling noise. A faint but distinct glow began to surround the pup. A green clad figure already known to Marrok appeared.
“I anoint thee Lyulf, son of Marrok and mother by Caelan.” said Zoelin waving a hand over the pup. “Marrok you must retrieve the sword placed in the stone crevice by Pawlth. Keep it close. I can tell you now that Lyulf will need it when he comes of age.”
Zoelin vanished leaving a shard of green fabric in Marrok’s paw.
Marrok scratched away the stones that had hidden the crevice. He retrieved the sword from the granite’s lair where it had been placed some time ago. Carefully, he laid it by the sleeping pup knowing that Lyulf would one day find solace in the company of Zoelin. Caelan smiled at the pup and extended a paw to Marrok.
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