Arthurian Adaptation 1
It has been almost thirty years since I first stumbled upon the writings of Sir Constantine
of Dumnonia. I was digging through mounds of books belonging to the estate of a recently
passed London book dealer when I happened upon a raggedly bound book—its cover stained
thoroughly and pages torn. I knew instantly that I had discovered a work not native to the 20th
century although I had no idea of its origin at the time. The work was composed of a loosely
bound assortment of notes and documents, many stained or torn beyond recognition. It was on
the first page that I first saw the name of Sir Constantine scrawled across the darkened
parchment—the ink faded by the years.
As I first poured over the scribbled handwriting I was unsure what I chanced upon. In
many places the original text had been crossed off by the author and notes scribbled through,
making the history much more difficult to discern. However even these first decrepit pages
dragged me into a world darkened by time—and it began to dawn on me that this work may have
had true historical merit.
Sadly Sir Constantine’s work was not all gathered in that book dealer’s library and it has
taken me decades to find and piece together his tale. Even now there are gaps in the history that
may never be filled. However, what I have been able to restore reveals at least some of
Constantine’s history and preserves for posterity, I hope, his life’s tale.
Arthur was dying. It could not have been past midday when the news had issued from his
bed quarters, carried on the back of his physician and advisor Merlin. The old man was hunched
Arthurian Adaptation 2
over even further than usual—seemingly crushed by the burden of his news. He wheezed out the
news painfully though I think we all knew even before he had opened his thin lips.
We had won a great victory that day, but I knew it was all for naught if our King lay on
his deathbed. No one moved or responded to Merlin’s words at first, most of my comrades
choosing to simply stare at the ground. The first to react was Lancelot, who smashed his dented
helm into the ground and paced off alone.
It was odd to see so many men—roaring in triumph only an hour before—driven to the
depths of misery.
I had been fighting only yards away from Arthur as we cut our way towards the banner of
Mordred—the nephew and traitor to the king. Arthur had called for his adversary to fight him
and the young man obliged without hesitation. The fighting around them had ceased as the two
dueled brilliantly in the early morning sunlight and I think Arthur gained power as eyes were
trained upon him. Mordred, to his credit, fought well at first, exchanging blows liberally with our
king. Arthur never slowed his furious blows though and Mordred slowly but surely fell back.
Arthur, I'm sure, sense this as I noticed that his intensity increased even further. I know now that
this was his downfall because as he roared and slashed down upon his rival, Mordred desperately
stabbed forward and slid his dented blade into Arthur’s stomach. Our king did not react in the
slightest but rather continued his blow—severing Mordred’s head from his shoulders. It was not
until he turned towards me that he stumbled and toppled to his knees.
“Arthur is beyond the help of any mortal man.” Merlin told me in his scratched and
weathered voice, leaning heavily upon his staff. “God save us.”
Arthurian Adaptation 3
I knelt by the bed of my king and stared at his pallid face. It was as though a light had
been extinguished in him; there was no sign of the smile that had so frequently flashed across his
broad face. Sweat still caked his golden hair and beard and his breath came in short gasps as he
turned his head to look at me.
“Constantine.” I bowed my head, a sudden burst of emotion overtaking me.
I was not alone in my grief—Guinevere, Arthur’s queen, clutched at the hand of her
husband while his stepbrother, Sir Kay, stood grimly over us both. The latter laid his hand on my
shoulder in a rough gesture of solidarity, although it meant little to me at the time.
“Merlin has told you… hasn’t he?” Arthur spoke with evident pain, laboring over every
word he spoke.
“My Lord.”
“I haven’t long in this world… thanks to that bastard Mordred.” He clenched his hand
sharply and Guinevere flinched noticeably. For a moment his face contorted to a grimace but this
almost immediately faded and he relaxed onto his bed.
“When I am gone the war will truly begin.” He sighed and stared at the ornately carved
ceiling, as if suddenly possessed by a deep melancholy. “We have won today, but tomorrow will
bring a dozen new suitors for the hand of Camelot.”
“But peace is won, my lord. Mordred is dead and his army is dispersed.”
“Mordred is only one of many who crave what we have built. Even many of the noble
knights that have ridden with me will crave the power that Camelot holds and snatch it for
themselves.”
Arthurian Adaptation 4
As he said this, Arthur was overtaken by some great pain and clenched his teeth with a
groan. Merlin appeared at his bedside in an instant and covered the monarch’s forehead with a
damp piece of cloth.
“Constantine, walk with me.” Kay told me as Merlin knelt over his patient. I climbed to
my feet and followed the tall knight out into the courtyard adjacent to the king’s quarters. A rain
had begun to fall as we walked out into the open and I shivered slightly as it slowly soaked
through my clothing. Kay had been blessed with a height that rivalled even that of Arthur and he
seemed to tower over me in pillar shadows thrown by the fading summer light.
“Merlin says my brother will not last the night.” He told me grimly, turning his piercing
eyes on me. I chose to ignore his claim to full fraternity with Arthur and simply nodded my
understanding.
“I fear that Arthur is right about our knightly brethren—there are some who are as
ambitious as they are deadly with a sword.”
“What do you think will happen?” I asked him, searching Kay’s face for his purpose.
“There are some who will lay claim immediately to the throne… my throne.” I remained
silent, though I knew Kay was searching for my affirmation of his claim.
“There has been gossip that Mordred is not the only one who has been filling Arthur’s
bed—but that our brother Lancelot has been visiting the queen as well.” I had heard whispers of
this but once again kept my mouth closed as Kay continued: “I suspect that if he finds it easy to
slide into my brother’s bed he may also find it natural to slide into his throne as well.”
“So are you seeking my oath to support you in this?” I asked him, cutting directly to the
heart of the matter.
“Precisely.” He wiped his soaked brown hair away from his eyes and trained them on me.
Arthurian Adaptation 5
I was silent for a moment, weighing what Kay was asking of me. Arthur was childless
and as I saw it Kay did have the rightful claim. But who would the rest of Arthur’s knights
support?
“You are one of the few of our brothers who I trust.” Kay interjected into my thoughts as
if reading them. “I cannot promise you immediate peace, but my claim is just so I trust that God
will be with me.”
“I am with you.” I muttered a silent prayer to the pouring heavens to forgive me if I had
chosen wrongly. I could see Kay’s face light up despite the closing shadows of the courtyard,
and he slapped his hand upon my shoulder.
“You are a good man, Constantine.”
Arthur was asleep when Kay and I returned to his side. Merlin still hovered over him like
a brooding mother, his face dark. Guinevere was missing, however, and I sensed that Merlin was
relieved by this.
“Arthur may not last the night.” He told us somberly, his aged face furrowed with worry.
“I have done everything I can to dull his pain, but he continues to bleed ceaselessly.”
“Is there anything that can be done?” Kay asked, kneeling once again at the king’s
bedside. Merlin shook his head and released a sigh.
“I will do what I can, but you would do better to worry about the fate of his kingdom than
stay here and watch his life ebb. Camelot needs your hand more than your brother needs your
tears.”
Arthurian Adaptation 6
Merlin’s eyes flashed and he straightened up slightly. The old man was surprisingly tall
and as Kay rose back to his feet, Merlin met him eye-to-eye with a knowing look.
Merlin had been a physician and advisor to Arthur long before I had become a member of
the king’s retinue, and Kay had once mentioned that Arthur had been raised by the old man.
There were perennial whispers that he was tied to the arcane and thus never aged—though
personally I took little notice to these rumors. Energetic and active when I had first joined
Arthur’s entourage, Merlin now seemed little more than a tired shell of his past self. Now that
Arthur laying dying in his care, this agedness seemed even more pronounced.
“As Arthur dies, so does Camelot.”
Arthur died the next day. With his death came rain—sweeping the land without sign of
ceasing. The sun hid for hours, only once peeking out from behind the blackened clouds.
As dusk came that night to our darkened land, Lancelot gathered Arthur’s knights in the
great hall of the passed king.
“He won’t wait until my brother’s body is cold.” Kay had surmised when he received
news that Lancelot was gathering the knights. I had little doubt that Kay was right, and, as I took
my seat at the great circular table with the rest of my brothers, the premonition was confirmed.
“Today, we mourn the passing of a great man,” Lancelot began with Guinevere standing
supportively behind him. “And we must now somehow fill his place.”
Kay sat beside me pensively, his long face clouded.
“I have spoken at length with Lady Guinevere and she has suggested that as leader of our
knightly brotherhood I take up the banner which our benevolent king carried for so long.
Arthurian Adaptation 7
However, we also must not forget that he ruled hand in hand with his queen, and that Arthur’s
work would be for nothing without her care.”
“Arthur would be alive without her care.” Kay growled softly. Lancelot glanced at him
but continued without pause.
“I have requested that Guinevere remain as Queen consort and she has honored me with
her consent.”
At this Kay snorted and Lancelot turned his attention to the knight.
“Sir Kay, do you have something to say?”
Kay climbed to his feet slowly, and placed both of his fists upon the oak table.
“Camelot is not yours to give. Or to take.”
“Surely Kay, you can’t be serious.” Lancelot smiled winningly, Guinevere stepping to his
side. Kay scowled at him in return and looked around the table for support. Most of the knights
looked passively on, and I had difficulty reading the room’s sentiment.
“Kay is right.” A voice boomed through the hall and I turned to the door. “No one here
has the authority to bestow the reins of this kingdom.” Merlin strode into the hall, seemingly
taller than when I had seen him last—his long grey cloak billowing around his thin shoulders.
“Arthur built this kingdom with the aid of God, and now that our king is dead—only God
can choose his successor.”
Kay groaned next to me, and I could see Lancelot’s face fall as well. Merlin was greatly
respected throughout Camelot—particularly by Arthur’s knights. I had always been somewhat
skeptical of the man’s alleged ability as an oracle, but he had always been kind to me so I had
never questioned his role. Many of Arthur’s knights were far more superstitious than I; Kay
being an avid believer in the predictions and judgements made by Arthur’s advisor. I also sensed
Arthurian Adaptation 8
that Merlin’s words gave hope to others hoping to rise after Arthur’s fall, though they certainly
had visibly disheartened Lancelot.
“And how will we know God’s choice?” Lancelot asked, a scowl clouding what were
largely thought to be brilliantly handsome features. All eyes were trained on Merlin as the old
man made his way towards the knight.
“God goes with the man who claims his grail.”
It was here that several pages of Constantine’s work was stained and torn from the
binding—making it largely unreadable. While the narrative was cut off in this section, I was able
to piece together notes—scribbled on the margin of the pages—regarding the grail and its
history.
The Holy Grail has not been seen during my lifetime. Legend holds that the giant
Maleagant stole the grail over a century ago and disappeared back into the mountains from
which he had come. Countless knights have disappeared in his God-forsaken holdings in search
of the grail and very few have ever returned. Monsters are said to roam that land—remnants of
those that Arthur drove out of his kingdom.
Kay refused to set aside his foolhardy determination to seek after the grail. I tried for
days to persuade the man, but to no avail. He was certainly not the only knight hell-bent on
Arthurian Adaptation 9
dying; Lancelot—still set on claiming Arthur’s crown—had grimly formed a retinue and set out
from Camelot the very day of Merlin’s proclamation.
Kay, surprisingly enough, was in no hurry to start off and it took him a pair of days to
gather the supplies necessary for our journey. Wisely, he had also found a guide—a dwarf named
Humbus—who had escaped unscathed from the dungeons of the giant king. Humbus ferociously
claimed that he had seen the grail during his stay in Maleagant’s hold and Kay believed him
fervently.
It was dawn when we set out from Camelot and dusk when we set up camp for the night.
Humbus halted our day’s journey at the edge of a thick and shadowed wood, recommending that
we traverse it during daylight. Kay agreed with his thought and we made our camp just outside
the reaches of the knobbed and twisted boughs.
As the sun disappeared below the horizon, the three of us huddled around our fire trying
to shield ourselves from the cold wind that whistled from the depths of the forest.
“What is this place?” Kay asked, wrapping his cloak around him.
“The Wight’s Wood” Humbus replied, rubbing his small hands together. “Home to all
sorts of ungodly creatures, the king of which is the White Wight.” Kay scowled and rested his
hand on the cross on his neck as if warding against the forest’s evils.
“Why not go around this accursed place?”
“There is no way around, we can only go through it.”
Kay seemed satisfied with this answer and nodded amicably.
“Tell us about yourself, dwarf. You say that Maleagant kept you for some time.” A dark
look passed over Humbus’s face and he kicked at the dirt harshly,
“That is true.” He replied gloomily “I’m lucky to be alive.”
Arthurian Adaptation 10
“How did you come to be in Maleagant’s clutches?” I asked, feeling sorry for the small
man.
“Some years ago Maleagant and his horde descended upon my village and razed it to the
ground. He slew my family and kept me alive only because of his appetite for dwarves.”
“Appetite?”
“Yes, quite literally. He eats my kind ravenously. I was fortunate to escape through the
lax care of one of his soldiers.” Humbus looked up at me. “I wandered the depths of his dungeon
for days, living off of the rats that wander through that maze. Even once outside of those black
walls I am lucky to have made it through the beasts that guard his borders.”
A gust of frigid air dashed from the forest and cut through [several words were here
stained beyond recognition. Constantine was likely referring to his clothing here, however]. I
shivered and stared into the forest, its depths obscured with a rising fog. The wind was gusting
ferociously now, clearly emanating from the Wight’s Wood.
“What devilry is this?” Kay asked, directing the question towards the dwarf. Humbus
shrugged.
“I told you, ungodly creatures abound in this place.”
“I can kill creatures, but this cold I can’t fight.” Kay rose to his feet and began striding
towards the wood.
“Be careful what you wish for.” Humbus laughed, retaining his place near the fire.
Kay grimly made his way into the forest, almost slipping on the thin layer of ice that now
coated the ground. I followed the knight through the low hanging branches, their thorns tearing
at my exposed face. Determinedly, Kay forced forward as the forest closed tighter the
temperature fell even lower. The blood on my face froze before it even fall and I lost feeling in
Arthurian Adaptation 11
both my hands and feet. Just as I thought I would be able to move no farther, the two of us
stumbled into a wide clearing.
In the midst of the clearing was a pond—completely frozen over. The thorned trees
reached closely over the pond, their arms swaying softly. The wind had died as suddenly as it
had picked up—though the temperature seemed to have become somehow even colder. Rising in
the middle of the frozen pond was a small pedestal—large enough for only the man who stood
upon it. I say man in the sense that he was dressed completely in white armor and stood at the
height of Kay. However he remained unmoving as we approached him and I began to realize that
the cold was emanating from him.
“You there.” Kay called to him as we shuffled across the icy pond, his hand on his sword.
The white knight turned slight to face Kay, the first movement that he had made since we had
entered the clearing.
“Who you and what manner of place is this?” Kay pushed on, almost slipping on the
smooth ice. The figure still refused to respond and I could sense that Kay was beginning to be
peeved.
“Be careful.” I cautioned him, but he drew his sword fully and closed in on the knight.
“Answer me or I will have your head.” Kay’s visor was frozen open and refused to budge
as he attempted to slam it down. The white figure still refused to answer and Kay swung his
sword towards the man with a vengeance. As he did this, the knight extended a gloved hand and
Kay flew backward as if struck by some unseen giant. I drew my sword and rushed towards the
knight, braced to meet a similar fate.
“What business do you have in my wood?” The knight spoke his first, the words hissing
snakelike, through his visor.
Arthurian Adaptation 12
“We travel in search of Maleagant’s lair and our only path is through this cursed place.” I
told him, halting in front of our white clad adversary. I heard Kay cursing behind me as he
scrambled to his feet.
“That may well be, but you may not pass through my forest. To step foot in the Wight’s
Wood is to challenge the White Wight.” The knight drew a blazing white blade from his side and
stepped towards me. I met him energetically and the two of us danced across the ice, our frozen
blades breaking the frigid silence. Abiding by the code of Arthur’s knights, Kay allowed our
single combat to continue unimpeded across the ice. I slipped several times upon the pond’s
frozen surface but managed to regain my feet in time to evade the knight’s blade. My adversary
seemed to glide across the pond without impediment and it was all I could do to stave off his
furious slashing. As warmth began to course back through my working arms, however, I was
finally able to return the knight’s blows. He fought silently, without even a grunt as I pushed him
back across the ice. Whether it was by luck or skill I do not know, but I managed to finally pierce
his guard and he tumbled backwards across the ice.
“Yield!” I shouted, and I heard Kay give a joyful exclamation behind me.
“I yield.” Hissed the knight and he lay back upon the frozen water as though dead. His
hiss continued after the words had finished and slowly a thick white steam rose from his
prostrate armor. As the steam rose through the thorned boughs of the trees above the pond, the
air around us warmed considerably.
“What is this man?” Kay moved towards the knight, still lying about the ground. He
raised the bright white visor and withdrew with a start. The armor was as empty as the day it had
been smithed and as Kay withdrew his hand from the shining helm the entirety of the suit began
to crumble.
Arthurian Adaptation 13
“This is not the work of any godly force.” Kay observed. “We should make haste to
escape from this place and the forces that haunt it. Where is that damned dwarf?”
The ice creaked ominously underfoot and I realized that it had begun to melt noticeably. I
met Kay’s eyes and saw that he had made the same observation.
“Move carefully.” I cautioned, and we began shuffling towards the shore. “Try to spread
out your weight.”
“Strip off your armor if you can.” Kay told me. “If we do fall through, I’d rather we not
sink straight to the bottom.” I nodded and began to comply as quickly as I could. The ice
continued to creak menacingly and I saw a thin trail of cracks spiderwebbing beneath us. I
struggled frantically with my armor as the cracks spread wider across the lake. Kay desperately
began to run towards the closest shore but the ice gave way beneath him suddenly and he
plunged into the water—still fully clad in armor.
“Kay!” I shouted, moving as quickly as I safely could towards where he had fallen
through. Fully expecting him to be halfway to the bottom of the pond, I jumped back as he
splashed out of the water and stumbled into the sheet of still melting ice. Sighing with relief as I
realized that the pond was no deeper than waist level, I skirted the hole that Kay had made and
began to help him to shore. He shivered as he climbed onto shore and began to strip away his
armor—his teeth chattering loudly.
“What happened to you two?” A cheerful voice inquired, as our dwarf friend appeared
from the thick forest. Kay growled and I just shrugged as we looked up at him from the muddied
forest floor.
Arthurian Adaptation 14
The first manuscript ends here, with the majority of the last page being torn. The second
manuscript seems to be missing at least several pages but it does clearly take up the story shortly
after the ending of the first log.
The dwarf proved to be a worthy and reliable guide as we moved further away from our
home. He led us safely through the remainder of the Wight’s Wood and into the only sparsely
populated land beyond it. Compared to the dense forest we had just traveled through, the rolling
hills beyond were a welcome sight. Although this land had once seen Arthur conquer it, the
people living in it had likely not seen a knight for over a decade and as such we drew strange
looks from all those we encountered.
In one town a pair of children ran to Kay and touched his armor—the knight ignoring
them completely. Several townspeople begged us for food and money but Kay also turned them
down without feeling.
“Not even a coin?” I asked him, pitying the impoverished residents. He shrugged and
drew a handful of coins out of his purse, tossing some to the bedraggled crowd that had begun to
follow us.
“My lord” One wrinkled old man continued to follow us as the rest of the crowd
scrambled for coins in the dusty street. Kay flipped another coin in his direction and continued to
walk away. The man ignored it however and continued to plead with Kay for his attention.
“I desperately need your help, sir.” I looked at Kay who continued to ignore the pleas for
assistance. I turned to the man myself.
“What can we do for you?” Kay rolled his eyes but didn’t stop me.
Arthurian Adaptation 15
“My daughter has been stolen away from me.” He told me, grateful that I was lending
him my ear. “A rogue knight and his lackeys have been terrorizing this land for months, and
some weeks ago they carried away my only daughter.”
“Why don’t you go after her yourself?” Kay asked him rudely. “We are in search of the
Holy Grail and do not have time to spare.”
“I am old and feeble and the knight has many followers. I would be forever in your debt
if you could bring her back to me.”
Kay pulled me aside quickly, a frown creasing his long face.
“Leave this man be, we have nothing to gain from helping him or finding his daughter.”
“But we have our honor to lose.” I argued “Can we call ourselves knights and refuse a
lady in need?”
“She is no lady though.” scoffed Kay “She is the daughter of some commoner.”
“Does that really change our duty? What will happen when word gets out that Kay,
successor to Arthur, turned down an offer like this?”
Kay shrugged but I could tell that he was considering the proposition. He turned suddenly
to the old man.
“Where does this knight reside?”
“His castle is nestled on a hill not far from here, a holding formerly belonging to some
lord.”
“Can you lead us there?” The man nodded and Kay clapped him on the shoulder.
“Then lead the way, we will have your daughter back in your arms.”
Arthurian Adaptation 16
It was dusk when we approached the keep; Kay and I leaving our companions behind
once we had sight of its walls. The keep was in ruins and seemed to have been for some time.
Only a single tower still stood in its midst, the surrounding walls overgrown with trees and vines.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, we climbed the hill to the keep as quietly as possible.
Voices emanated from the courtyard and a light shined from the single tower—proof that the old
man had brought us to the right place.
“So what is our plan?” I asked Kay quietly. Both of us were winded from our climb and
we paused just below what had once been the keep’s gate.
“I was just planning on killing everyone in our way” Kay laughed “Do you have a better
alternative?” I shook my head and drew my sword.
“Let’s go.”
We climbed to the ruins of the gate and strode through, swords drawn. A group of a half
dozen men sat circled around their fire, talking heatedly as we approached.
“You there.” Kay announced and the group sprang to their feet. “You have one chance to
tell me where the girl you are holding is kept.” He brandished his sword, making his intentions
clear. All six of the men drew their swords and several began laughing.
“Six of us and two of you…and you are giving orders?”
Kay simply smiled and then lowered his visor. I followed suit and stepped forward,
meeting the first of our assailants. Our swords clashed loudly in the flickering firelight—echoing
off of the keep’s remaining walls. The ruffians spread out in a circle around Kay and I,
attempting to encircle us. Anticipating this, Kay aggressively charged the closest foe and ran his
sword through the man easily. One of the others attempted to hit Kay’s exposed back but I
Arthurian Adaptation 17
managed to step between them and beat back the man’s blows. The fray was cut short suddenly
as a voice boomed from the doorway to the tower.
“Stop.” Our remaining assailants dropped back, still holding their swords ready. “Who
are you, and what brings you here?”
A large man dressed in black armor stood in the doorway, a large black blade in his right
hand. He held his helmet in his left hand—allowing his jet black hair to flow freely down his
back. The knight reminded me vaguely of a bear, his thick dark beard reinforcing this image.
“We are here to reclaim a woman that you kidnapped. Turn her over to us and we will let
you live.” Kay remained bold as he faced the knight. The man smiled and waved his men back
towards us.
“You can kill them.” He told them, clearly intending to spectate while we met our
demise. Kay and I backed towards the vine-covered tower wall, fighting off our assailants. I
managed to injure one of our attackers, but the four remaining ruffians showered us with blows.
Kay’s sword was wrenched from his hands as he blocked a series of blows, and one of the men
kicked away the sword. He moved behind me and for a moment I was able to hold off their
blows. Finally one of my attackers met my blade and shoved me backwards. I tripped and fell,
my own sword slipping from my hand.
The black knight clapped his hands merrily and strode towards us, brandishing his sword.
His men dragged us to our feet and pulled us towards him roughly.
“Not as arrogant now are you?” He smirked, kicking Kay to his knees. Kay refused to
respond to the knight, but looked at me as if to ask ‘why did you bring us here?’
“Out of curiosity, who are you?” The knight asked—directing this at me as Kay refused
to even look at him. I looked at Kay, who shrugged uncaringly.
Arthurian Adaptation 18
“I am Sir Constantine and this is Sir Kay.” The black knight’s eyes lit up brightly in the
dying firelight.
“That wouldn’t be Kay, the brother of the late Arthur would it?” This time Kay nodded,
meeting the gaze of our captor. The man laughed heartily and then clapped the nearest of his men
on the shoulder.
“You’re a wanted man, Sir Kay. There’s a bounty on your head—and I hear that it’s
preferable to sever that head before delivery.” Kay looked at me questioningly, but didn’t
acknowledge the knight. “We’ve been blessed tonight, having you two both just walk right in our
door.”
It was sudden and unexpected, but the black knight clutched at his neck and toppled
forward into the dirt before us, clutching his neck. Behind him stood a woman dressed in a
ragged blue dress, dirt streaking her face. She held in her hand a bloodied knife, stained with the
knight’s blood. He gargled softly in the dirt before us, blood streaming profusely from his neck.
Kay and I came to the realization that he was dead at the same time, darting for our
swords. The knight’s men stood dumbfounded as we picked up our blades and charged them.
Only one lifted his own sword and tried to defend himself—the other three electing to flee. We
let them go, turning instead to the woman who had saved us.
She had tossed down the knife next to the man who she had killed, and stood still—
surveying the scene.
“Your father asked us to come rescue you… but it’d seem that you have done the
rescuing.” Kay quipped, stepping over the black knight’s body. “What is your name?”
“Anna” she responded, pushing her dark brown hair away from her face. She was tall and
slim—beautiful despite the dirt and grime that covered her face and clothes.
Arthurian Adaptation 19
“Let us take you to your father.” Kay extended his arm and she took it, not stopping once
to look back at the knight lying in the dirt.
We set out again the very next morning, both Kay and I nursing an assortment of bruises.
We moved much more slowly than before, Kay limping noticeably as we left Anna’s village and
started out across the bleak countryside.
Anna and her father had asked us to stay with them longer, but Kay rejected the offer
firmly.
“Camelot needs a king” he had told them, flashing his ever-winning smile. Anna
protested further but her father warned Kay simply:
“The land you must travel next is an ungodly one, full of ruffians, thieves, and pagans.”
As usual Kay shrugged off the advice with a good-natured laugh.
“We’ve made it thus far, in part thanks to the help of your beautiful daughter.” I noticed
that Anna blushed slightly at this—pink creeping into her cheeks.
“Just be careful, Sir Kay” The old man told him “No man is invincible.”
Humbus led us further into the wilds and the terrain became visibly harsher; we found
ourselves scaling steep hills and wind-swept fields devoid of crops. The wide stone roads turned
into narrow dirt paths and we wound through miles of rolling hills—climbing seemingly ever
higher. The population around us dwindled as we continued onward and we encountered fewer
and fewer villages. Our encounters with other humans became increasingly scarce—until if we
saw anyone at all it was only from afar.
Arthurian Adaptation 20
Kay’s mood seemed to grow ever lighter—contrasting his tone when we had left
Camelot. The weather also seemed to contradict Kay’s lightheartedness—growing increasingly
overcast. Humbus suggested several times that we make camp and weather the coming storm but
Kay refused unequivocally.
“A bit of rain never stopped anyone.”
He was proven incorrect before long however as rain began to poor upon us and our
dusty path turned quickly to mud. The sun was blotted out completely by black clouds as we
plodded on through the streaming rain. We pushed through for hours as the water began to rise
around us—the mud making the terrain almost impassable. Humbus sank to his waist in mud
several times and I finally offered to carry the short man. He refused, but began to sulk quietly—
unhappy with Kay’s decision making. Kay took notice, but only allowed our trek to halt when
we came upon a chapel nestled among two muddied hills. I slid down nearly the entirety of slope
as we moved towards it—still more fortunate than Humbus who fell headlong into the sludge on
his way down.
The chapel surprisingly looked as if it had just been constructed, not a brick missing from
its walls. As we stumbled to its dark oaken doors, Humbus paused.
“Should we really enter this place?” He asked, the mud covering his face making him a
comedic sight. Kay ignored him completely and threw open the heavy doors, striding inside with
a purpose. As Humbus and I strode over the threshold the rain outside suddenly ceased and the
chapel burst into light. Hundreds of candles lined the walls of the room, and had all burst into
flame in synchrony. I was taken aback at the sight, but Kay strode towards the altar—taking the
sudden light to be a sign.
Arthurian Adaptation 21
“What could this place be?” Humbus asked me, the mud still dripping from him onto the
scarlet carpet that covered the floor.
“I haven’t the slightest idea.” I responded, surprised to see sunlight suddenly serenading
us through the windows that lined the chapel’s stone walls.
“Constantine” Kay had reached the altar and for the first time I noticed that it was not
empty. Kay knelt before it and I saw that a man lay on his back across its stone face. I ran up the
steps to join my companion, Humbus trailing after us miserably.
“Constantine” Kay murmured again as I reached him.
Arthur lay prostrated across the marble, his arms crossed over his chest and eyes
closed—crown still resting upon his forehead. The horror of the scene was not this but the fact
that he was decaying—the skin drawing away from his once strong face. His hands were
skeletally clutching his chest and his mouth hung open apathetically. I felt the urge to throw up
but choked back the sensation. Humbus was not so fortunate—as he reached us he began to retch
upon the floor.
“This is depraved.” Kay said softly, his face in his hands. The sun streamed softly over
the scene and I drew away from the corpse as Arthur’s face took on a ghastly brightness.
“Constantine.” I turned towards Kay but he had not called to me—still knelt over the altar
in despair.
“Constantine.” A woman stood in the chapel’s doorway, clad in pure white with the
sunlight pulsating behind her. I was irresistibly pulled towards her across the scarlet floor and as
I neared she extended her hand to me.
Arthurian Adaptation 22
“Who are you?” I asked in wonderment, staring into her pale but beautiful face. Golden
hair caressed her shoulders and fell across her glowing white dress in curls. I was mesmerized,
though all the time realizing with surprising lucidness that I was caught in some unnatural spell.
She ignored my question and instead took my hand and led me out of the chapel. The
sunlight was dazzling as I stepped outside but I followed the woman without qualm. As my eyes
adjusted, I saw that the mud had miraculously dried and that there was no sign that our flood had
even occurred at all. We walked slowly together, wordlessly. Suddenly my guide stop and
pointed before us—and I realized we were at the brink of a cliff, the land spread out before us. I
could see lakes and forests dotting the landscape—mountains the towering backdrop.
“This was Arthur’s land.” My companion finally spoke, a breeze wisping softly through
her golden hair. I nodded, unsure of why she had presented me this sight.
“But Arthur decays and as he does, so does his land.”
“That is why we quest for the grail.”
“As you waste your days in search of a fable, Camelot slips away from you.”
“But without the grail we lose Camelot regardless.”
“No, with you Camelot has order. Without, it is lost.”
I stared out over the land, my mind racing with thought. I looked back at the woman, who
was staring at me—no sign of emotion upon her face.
“Who are you? And why are you telling me this?”
“My name is Elaine.” She replied “And I am just one who cares for peace. Without
Arthur this peace is in your hands.”
“So what would you have us do?”
“Return to Camelot and rule.”
Arthurian Adaptation 23
“Kay will never go for that, he is a firm believer in Merlin’s words.”
“He also values your words.”
“And why should I convince him of this?”
Elaine suddenly moved closer to me, putting her hand on my cheek. She reached in and
kissed me softly; I withdrew quickly—surprised.
“You will.” She told me with a smile. “It is for the good of Camelot.”
I suddenly felt more convinced of the truth of her words nodded slowly. Turning to look
across the land I heaved a deep sigh.
“I will.”
I turned back and she was gone.
Kay was still prostrated before Arthur’s body when I returned. Humbus sat beside him,
evidently having somewhat recovered his composure.
“Kay, we need to go.” I told him, placing my hand upon his shoulder in support. He
looked up angrily and shook me off.
“This is a sign” I told him calmly “I hope you don’t think we stumbled upon this chapel
by chance. There are forces at work here beyond the control you or I.”
“What are you saying?” Kay growled, climbing to his feet.
“Finding Arthur’s body was a sign that our quest is in vain.” I told him. “Just as Arthur
decays, so does Camelot—and it is your duty to right that.”
I realized that I had copied Elaine’s words and shuddered slightly. I pondered the
meaning of her appearance as Kay contemplated my words.
Arthurian Adaptation 24
“So you want to return to Camelot?” He asked me, a tinge of anger still present in his
voice. I sighed.
“What use is the grail if you have no kingdom to return to?”
“How are you even sure of this decline?” In response I simply pointed at the body of
Arthur resting on the altar.
Kay insisted on burying Arthur’s body—something that we did as quickly as we could.
As we left the chapel, clouds had once again covered the sky foreshadowing rain. Humbus began
to protest our return to Camelot fiercely as we began our trek back but Kay had none of it.
“You have received your pay every step of the way.”
“This is about more than coin for all of us though.” Humbus replied “You want a
kingdom and I want revenge. If we turn around what is there to gain?”
“My kingdom for one.” Kay said dryly, clearly annoyed with the dwarf. “Maleagant is no
concern of mine, the grail was my only objective.”
We did not make it far from the chapel that evening—falling asleep under a pair of tall
pines atop one of the endless hills that paved our return. I slept fitfully, dreaming of Elaine and
the spacious land that we had looked over. My visions were cut short, however, as I was awoken
by Kay shaking me roughly.
“Get up.” He growled “We are not alone.” I groggily climbed to my feet, stumbling at
first upon the dew soaked grass.
“What is it?” I hissed back at him, seeing Humbus still enveloped in a peaceful sleep.
Kay pointed in response and I noticed dozens of lights moving up the hillside far below. As they
neared I could make out that they were torches—quickly ascending towards us.
Arthurian Adaptation 25
“What do we do?” I asked Kay.
“Fight them of course.” He replied, unsheathing his sword quietly.
“Count those torches… there are too many of them.” I began to shake Humbus forcefully.
“Let no man say that Kay ever ran from a fight.” Kay insisted “And how are we to know
that they are even hostile.”
The time for flight had passed while we spoke and the torches encircled us, revealing an
assortment of dirt-caked faces. Kay and I stood back-to-back with Humbus cowering beside us—
our swords held outwards. The apparent leader of those surrounding us stepped forward, his
shoulders covered with an enormous cloak.
“Yield.” He boomed.
“You must be joking.”
“Don’t be a fool.” I could see the man’s scarred face in the torchlight—horrendous marks
lining his cheeks from top to bottom. Kay spat in his direction venomously.
“Take them alive.” The leader commanded and the circle closed in around us.
We fought our assailants valiantly but were beaten down quickly. Two dozen swords
against the two of ours was no match and we both were felled after only inflicting few wounds in
return. Once we were disarmed, our assailants tied our arms behind us and continued their
march.
While the former part of the second manuscript was preserved in remarkable condition,
the work was notably stained and torn in some of the latter portions. Unfortunately the account
which presumably concerned Constantine’s transport has been lost. The work does however
resume almost wholly unhindered with the story of the party’s time in captivity.