Interlude: The Brother of the Old King

Disclaimer: I don't own the Fate series or The Warlord Chronicles. They belong to their respective creators, Kinoko Nasu and Bernard Cornwell.

Autumn. 475 A.D.

Lloegyr

City of Londinium

Vortigern P.O.V

"This place certainly has its own different atmosphere," I whisper to myself while looking at the horizon from atop the walls of Londinium.

Despite being abandoned for decades, the city it's still mostly intact… 

Being in such a well-conserved place with so few people is downright creepy.

Really, I believe the few who called this place home for the past decades are insane… 

Hm… I guess the concept of 'No man's land' can describe this city quite well.

A divided region with squabbling warlords… and at the center of all, an urbanized and well-made city, a perfect place to be a center of power and project control over all the land… but also a poisoned chalice, and Germanics know this very well.

It takes more than a few hundred men and illusions of grandeur to become the master of this city. Really, just the effort to make this place something worthy of a seat of power… I guess a lifetime is a good estimate, especially considering the disunity across the land.

In a different life, this city could have been the center of all of Britain, with no more petty Kings and foreign invaders. Hmm… maybe referring to this fantasy realm as 'The Empire of Britannia' is not something far-fetched?

Hah! Who am I kidding? It took us being conquered by the Romans to attain any semblance of unity. So… following this line of thinking, the Saxons would have to completely subjugate us so that these Islands could have a semblance of order.

It has been over two years since… since that 'meeting' to decide the next King of Dumnonia… Looking back, that thing must've looked like a mummer's show…

I'm not going to lie to myself, I had hopes of becoming the King of Dumnonia, but not like that… I hoped Uther would have chosen me, despite his grievances… 

I am not a stupid buffoon who can't understand that Uther didn't like me one bit, despite most people thinking otherwise. 

Please, Uther was my older brother and I grew up beside him… We played soldiers together and spoke about our futures as the greatest warriors to ever live…

I still feel bittersweet just thinking about these childhood memories…

If I could mark an exact point where our relationship began to deteriorate… Well, it would be after he became King. 

Maybe it was because of his paranoia or something else?

I remember a saying, I don't recall if it's Greek or Roman in origin, that the moment someone rises to a position of power, their true selves are revealed… I find this statement quite dubious; something to justify the actions of inept leaders and tyrants, and… well, the Greeks and Romans had these two types in spades.

But if I think this statement applies to my late brother…

Well, it doesn't matter now.

What most people can't understand is my attitude towards him… 'Why doesn't Vortigern hate Uther?' is the question that sums up this quite well.

And the answer to this is… Why would I hate my brother?

Despite Uther's image as a fearsome warlord and great King, or a tyrant to some, I still see him as the same older brother I grew up with…

He insults and mistreats me? Well, he never raised his sword against me… despite having many opportunities.

Why is it so hard for people to understand the brotherly love I have towards Uther? Am I the one wrong in not despising and hating him as people would expect?

But I'll admit, it hurts knowing he died without changing the way he sees me… Deep inside, I always wished for the old Uther to return… the one I played with as a child.

It hurt even more learning about his secret son, Arthur. Some might have doubts about the veracity of such claims, but with Merlin and Ector supporting it… it's definitely true.

Did he really think so low of me as to murder my own nephew?

And about Morgan… I had little to no contact with her, but the last I heard, she gave birth to a second son to King Lot… A good omen since her firstborn survived.

And about my nephew, Arthur… I'm waiting for this supposed 'test' Merlin has, to show the one worthy of the mantle of King… But really, from the rumors I heard, a sword in the stone is the perfect test?

I'm waiting with my eyes and ears open to the result of this play Merlin set up… If the one who becomes King isn't my nephew… I am killing that annoying wizard with my bare hands!

Some might find me soft for not being a raging individual like my brother, but even my patience has limits, and that wizard is one of the few people who are capable of testing it.

And now with my presence in Londinium, I'm wondering how things will turn out with the city under my rule…

"You've been brooding yourself ever since we established ourselves in the city a few days ago, Lord Vortigern… What is on your mind?" Meliodas' curious and respectful voice breaks me from my reverie.

The brother of King Mark and one of the first individuals who chose to accompany me in this… controversial campaign.

Really, the amount of warnings from people like Owain telling me that my idea is stupid… That Vortigern Pendragon is going to die just like his namesake… killed by the Saxons and being despised and mocked by everyone… Well, I'll gladly enjoy proving them wrong.

"You really have a penchant to ask obvious questions, Meliodas." Some would say stupid, but he has proven himself an amicable person to me, so I'll refrain from saying such things. "But to answer your question, I would say that brooding is the last thing I'm doing up here. Rather, I feel relaxed, now that the first steps of this campaign are over… It's like dropping the heaviest of weights from my shoulders." I honestly tell him.

Inciting thousands of warriors to accompany me in a 'heroic' invasion against the Saxons… Well, let's just say that enticing the ego of thousands is way easier than handling the fallout of such action.

I made my speech at Caer Cadarn two years ago. It took months for my words to spread across the Island and for the warriors interested in my plan to join me. I swear, one of my biggest fears was the amount of people joining, or rather, the lack… Making such a speech only to receive support from a couple hundred warriors would have been catastrophic… Thank God this didn't happen.

Thousands came from every British Kingdom; from my own kinsman from Dumnonia, who were encouraged by my words, to even Irish warriors from Demetia. Hell, when the campaign finally began at the start of this year, after winter, more than five thousand spears were at my command. Only Dumnonia and Powys can raise a host this big, and that's only if they exhaust their manpower.

But leading such an army was problematic… Some individuals were a pain in the ass to deal with, refusing to take my orders. And that's just talking about the most annoying ones.

The main problem I faced when commanding this host was the… let's say, lack of unity. Leading a warband of hundreds of warriors is something simple; most have familiarity with each other and can keep themselves from getting killed… But leading thousands of warriors, some of whom have feuds with each other… It is a nightmare.

If our enemies weren't so decentralized… We would be marching to our deaths.

I placed all my hopes in a short and quick victory… A decisive battle to hold this 'army' together.

Well, I got what I wanted; Londinium is proof of this. Now…

"What is our next course of action then? Marching north or south?" Meliodas curiously asks while leaning on the wall.

My only response is a chuckle and a tilt of my head. He truly is clueless in matters of great strategy.

"'Our?'" I parrot with doubt. "I was of the opinion you were planning to return to Kernow… You know, to your wife and kid… If not, then what made you change your mind?" I ask with curiosity.

Whenever we speak, he always says he misses his wife and child. He is also a good person… I don't understand why he would do this. He is not the type to simply abandon the two of them for a war that is not even his…

He gives a tired sigh and adopts a strange look while seeing the horizon.

"If I had to name a reason as to why I want to stay… Hmm. It's probably pride… No, it's definitely pride!" He says with certainty.

"Pride…?" I ask with doubt. From all the people I know, he is one of the most humble ones… I can't see a shred of arrogance in him.

He gives a nod while putting a hand on his chin.

"It's not some stupid warrior pride… Really, in these short months I've been with you, I already have seen this in spades amongst the warriors." He mirthfully shocks his head. "I am not a warrior like most of the people in this army… Hell, my kid who's not much older than a decade is probably a better warrior than me." He states as a matter of fact.

"Then why?" I ask with genuine doubt.

He doesn't stand to gain anything in continuing like this; he doesn't care about gold or lands to be gained in this conflict… He doesn't have the arrogance of most warriors, the ones who needless pursuit of 'glory'.

In fact, I believe he is one of the few people who has seen and understood what is the essence of war and being a warrior…

That there are no spectators in war… no glory to be won… just death and pain… and when realizing that, all that's left is searching for a purpose, a drive to keep you going… So, he must have found his purpose, huh?

"I was never someone who enjoyed conflict, you know," Meliodas says, with a bittersweet look. "In fact, my brother would always mock me because of this; saying that I look more like a woman than a man… You can already guess this didn't do any favors to my reputation." He says in a self-deprecating tone.

And that is true. Being compared to a woman, in most cases, is the same as being called a lesser to everyone else.

"But despite all this, the thing that strives me to move forward is not resentment because of this. What I do is because of my son." He says with certainty. "Ha! The boy is already more of a man than me, at such a young age too!"

"It's envy then?" I ask with care. A father being envious of his son, huh? It's one of the main reasons for any conflict between father and child… the contrary as well.

"Envy? Absolutely not!" Meliodas denies it vehemently. "Envy is the furthest thing I have for my son… But pride in him, in the man he is becoming? That's a different story. The reason I'm doing all of this, why I'm risking my life… I want to make my son proud of what I am. I want him to admire me as a warrior and not a coward who never fought for his entire life!" He exclaims.

Insecurity, huh?

"This is what your son thinks? Did little Tristan ask you to do this?" I ask rhetorically.

Meliodas blushes in embarrassment after my question, but before he can answer, I speak to him.

"There is nothing more beautiful than the love of a father to his child… But you should question yourself, and think deeply, is this the real reason why you are doing this? If not, then ask yourself again; why fight?" I advise him.

I am not really good with giving advices, or any kind of pep talk, but I guess it doesn't hurt speaking such things to him.

An insecure father who wants his son to have pride in him, without even questioning the boy, and the way he wants to gain such recognition is through war… Well, I'm no fortune teller, but this sounds like the beginning of a tragedy… and knowing how fate is cruel to everyone, I don't doubt this to be true.

The insecure father musters the courage to finally say something.

"In the end, you saw through everything…" He mutters bitterly. "I-I'll think about this… but, now, can you say what is our next course of action?" He changes the subject.

I guess even the patience of someone like him can have its limits, especially with something like this.

"About our next course of action, huh?" I scratch my chin while looking at the city of Londinium.

In the first months of the campaign, we managed to face and crush a sizable enemy host… When news of a big army invading Lloegyr came, every single Saxon warlord settled near the Thames united themselves to face us… Obviously, such an alliance was defeated.

Our army was already disorganized, but their host? They fell like headless chickens. Our forces, numbering a little less than five thousand, suffered little losses… but the Saxons, who had almost the same numbers as us, lost half their army, with the rest surrendering.

Just this victory already makes this campaign worth… I was betting on a quick and decisive battle. No one in these Islands has the capabilities to wage large-scale wars… supplies are always in shortage.

After the Saxons surrendered, I took their oaths of fealty… something that raised dissatisfaction with a few of my troops. But what do they expect me to do? Kill every single Saxon man, woman, and child? Well, that's a good way to paint me as a tyrant… and I highly doubt I have the capabilities to do such a thing with the few thousand troops I have.

The path of a merciful conqueror is the only one viable in this case. After all, I would much prefer to have the Saxons as docile dogs at my side than as a bunch of rabid beasts.

With such victory and our establishment in Londinium, the question in the minds of everyone, just like Meliodas, is our next course of action… Something I already have in mind.

"We simply do nothing." I shrug to Meliodas, making him comically widen his eyes.

"Nothing!?" He asks with incredulity. "We can subjugate more lands, the main host we faced was completely crushed, why are we stopping!?"

My only response is a mirthful chuckle.

"Remember when I said we would conquer the Saxons like Alexander and his companions conquered the Persians?" I ask rhetorically. "Well, if we proceed with such a course of action; of mindless warmongering… I would suffer the same end Alexander had. No, rather, I'll have the same end my namesake had." I shake my head.

King Vortigern, an old King of Powys who rose to become High King of Britannia… and also Gorfyddyd's ancestor. He rose to power a few years after the Romans abandoned Britain… He used his wit and intelligence to attain hegemony over the old Roman province… but he committed a fatal mistake that cost his life and, quite probably, the future of everyone in Britain. He invited Germanic mercenaries from beyond the sea to enforce his power, but they betrayed him and settled on the east coast of Britain, which was once again fragmented.

Needless to say, these invaders from beyond the sea were the Saxons…

I might carry the same name as High King Vortigern, but I don't want to share his end… I can only hope that fate doesn't decide to play me like this…

Meliodas waves his hands nervously.

"Okay, Okay, I get it! Now, apart from your… justified fears, what are the other reasons?" He asks with curiosity.

I sigh tiredly.

"First, I am not dumb to believe that next year we're going to still have the same amount of men. Hell, half of the ones present in this city plan to return to their homes." I explain.

And that's true. A warrior is not a simple killer, most of them are farmers in their spare time. So, only a small fraction of the ones that came with me plan to stay.

"Also, I need to reorganize our… let's say gains. I have no idea how many people are in the region we subjugated, if there are any people left who are not Saxons, hunting any few stragglers that don't follow my rule," I list the number of reasons.

Being a victorious general is rather easy, but building something from that victory? It takes way more skill and hard work… I also pretend to leave a lasting legacy here; Impatience will only ruin this.

"I know, Vortigern. It's just that some men are excited to continue fighting… I guess our victory gave them motivation," He says good-naturedly.

"I know, but that's not going to change my decision." Something that I'm resolute about. "Also… I want to pay close attention to matters on Dumnonia… specifically, its next King." I speak with seriousness.

I'm also anxious to meet my nephew…

Meliodas gives a tired sigh.

"Alright, alright. I'm not going to bother you with this anymore," he speaks in a placative manner.

I raise an eyebrow at this.

"You don't need to act like this. I am not offended by your questions… And also, don't be too formal towards me. I might have the men and territory, but I'm not even a King… yet." I joke.

If this little gamble of mine here withstands the tests of time… Well, I might become a King… Not a bad thing for a second son.

"But, changing the matter of discussion, what's the situation in the city? Are the men behaving themselves?" I ask with curiosity.

I'll admit, taking the Saxons with us to this city might have been a bad idea, but I need them… or rather, their spears and shields.

He chuckles nervously.

"Apart from a few fights, everything is going well," He says, but then looks at me with apprehension. "But some of our men have gone missing… attempting to explore the underground caves, at the center of the city."

"What!?" I ask with fury. "One of the few rules I established was that they stay away from those caves! And you now tell me a couple of idiots have gone and got themselves killed!?" I question him.

These caverns are one of the most mysterious things in the South of Britain, together with those stone monoliths. Despite the city being built on a plain terrain, this large system of underground caverns spread across the entirety of Londinium… And how deep do they go? Well, no one who entered too deep came back alive to tell the tale.

The place is clearly supernatural, with some saying to house all the beasts from ages past… It's dangerous. 

No one knows the origin of the caves, but it was here before the Romans, despite some saying that they made the caverns when building the city… Or that the caves are the resting place of the gods… others say that a mighty dragon was killed by an ancient King and that the cave is where his body landed… Some even say the place is the devil's butthole.

Hell! Even mages tend to stay away from the place… They probably realized the place was not worthy to investigate due to its danger.

"I know!" Meliodas exclaims with impatience. "But there was nothing we could do!"

I take a deep breath.

"Let's go and see this," I began to leave the walls of Londinium. "I might have to put a hundred men to simply watch the cave entrance," I grumble tiredly.

Sometimes, I surprise myself with the stupidity of some people.

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[Map of Vortigern's Conquests]

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AN: I am super busy with things happening irl. So, expect more time for the next chapter.