PictureSir Mordred by: H. J. Ford (Artist) from: The Book of Romance, 1902
      What did my uncle expect, when he left his court and his kingdom and his wife behind to fight his campaigns? Did he expect his kingdom  to  wait, frozen as a portrait, while he battled the might of Rome? Did he expect it of Wenhaver [Guinevere], his wife? Indeed,  had that messenger not come to Arthur with news of my 'betrayal,' Arthur would not have returned, perhaps for many years yet. He intended to go on with his warring, first in Burgundy and then on to Rome. He would have been away at least another season, likely more than that. Should we have waited for him at his doors, panting like his hounds with eagerness for his long-awaited return? We went on with our lives, Wenhaver [Guinevere] and I, and all of his people who accepted me as king in place of he who seemed with each passing season less likely to return.

What's more, I have done no more than Arthur's own father, Uther, did, when he went to the woman he loved while her husband was away at war. I, at least, came to Wenhaver [Guinevere] with my true face, rather than the guise of another. 

Yet now Arthur is on his way, with murder in his heart for me and for my Wenhaver [Guinevere]. The might he thought to bring against Rome he now means to turn against me, his nephew, the man he claims he most loves. But I will meet him blow for blow, with every ally I can gather at my side. I will defend my right to the land and the woman he abandoned for so long, and with the clashing of our swords we will learn which of us has the right of it.



-- Mordred

 





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