Confontation.

[svalbard]

Tempers were hot and Ambrosius paced the room in agitation. Uthyr sat at the hearth nursing a cup of wine in one hand and holding his head in the other. The third man in the room looked from one brother to the other in silent anger. He was tonsured like a monk and wore a long, loose, white robe. He had a weak chin that belied the ferocity of his temperament and his iron will. All his life he had watched men like Ambrosius and Uthyr tear themselves apart in petty squabbles.

It was a failing of the lords of Britain, their love of discord and chaos. The few men that had attempted to rise above the quagmire of the battling factions were quickly brought down. Vortigern had being one such. The monk shook his head at the memory of that tortured soul. He had the right idea, Vortigern, but not the wit or will to see it through. In the end he had invited the Saxons with promises of lands and riches to fight off his enemies. Vortigern’s dreams of a united kingdom under one overlord had ended in disaster for all.

He was slain by the very men in this room and the Saxons had gained a strong foothold on the east coast of the island. It was from there that they sallied forth every year to gain more lands. Ambrosius stopped pacing and looked squarely at the monk.
“Well, Bishop Dubricus, what say you? Can he marry the girl?” Ambrosius asked.
Dubricus looked to the disconsolate figure of Uthyr at the fireplace. He had had so much hope for these brothers. But after the first joyous flush of their victories over Vortigern and the Saxons, they too had been dragged in to the quagmire and morass of tribal politics. It was Uthyr and then Ambrosius, so capable, who had refused the High-Kingship and allowed Riothamus to take on the mantle.

“If he proves that he had nothing to do with Gorlois’s death then I see no reason…” Dubricus was saying when Uthyr cursed loudly interrupting him.
“How many times must I say it? I did not have the man killed. I am the Pendragon and he was a fast friend to me.”
A fast friend with a beautiful wife, thought Dubricus and he could see that Ambrosius was thinking the same thing. From beyond the chambers door they could hear voices raised in argument. Ambrosius moved close to Dubricus.

“If you marry them then none would believe him guilty or if they do then they will think twice about accusing him of murder. You are known as the most honest man on the island,” Ambrosius said.
Dubricus looked up at Ambrosius, searching the younger man’s face. Ambrosius did not believe Uthyr was innocent but he would not throw his brother to the wolves. He pulled up a chair and sat next to the bishop.

Uthyr continued to stare in to the fire seemingly oblivious of the two.
“Riothamus is dead. You have read the letters from Gaul. His army was led in to a trap and slaughtered by Euric. Ten thousand Briton warriors gone and never to return to these shores again. We are on the edge here. Riothamus stripped all the lands west of Londinium of men for his folly and now we must face the Saxons lacking the means to fight them. We must have some semblance of unity,” Ambrosius said earnestly.

Dubricus sighed. Ambrosius was right. They would need Uthyr’s strength in the coming year against the Saxons. There was no one else who could lead men in battle like him. Without Uthyr to lead, the kings of Britain would fight alone and alone they would fall.
“I will marry them,” the Bishop said rising to his feet. “Now who is out there?”
Ambrosius gave a crooked smile.
“The usual bloodthirsty bunch. The kings of Powys, Gwynedd and Elmet all baying for Uthyr’s blood,” he said.
“Twdfwlch?”
“No but he has let it be known that if ever Uthyr sets foot in his lands then he will have him slain,” Ambrosius said, looking across at his brother.
“Let him try,” Uthyr growled.

This was too much for Ambrosius, who told Uthyr to be silent unless he had anything useful to say. Dubricus decided not to comment on the antagonism between the two brothers. He was used to dealing with ambitious and proud men. Uthyr and Ambrosius were mild in comparison to some of the wilder lords of the west.
“I will go out and speak to them but I am not sure if it will do any use,” he said with feeling. If they wanted Uthyr’s head then they would get it. To act as Pendragon, you needed the support of these very kings. It would now seem that Uthyr’s days in that role were numbered no matter what he said or the support Ambrosius gave his brother.

Ambrosius spoke his thanks to the bishop as he left the room. When he was gone he considered Uthyr, who looked back at him with a strained smile.
“A good man the Bishop…as was Gorlois,” Ambrosius said.
“I did not…” Uthyr began to protest only to be savagely cut off by his brother.
“Do not treat me as a fool! Gorlois’s body is found slaughtered on the road and you flee Tintagel with his wife. Not only do you make off with her but now you want to wed the girl. And is it true that she is with child?” Ambrosius said, his voice low and angered.

Uthyr’s silence was enough of an answer for him. He had feared the truth of it when the first rumour was whispered to him. The months would be counted back from the birth of the child and Uthyr’s betrayal of Gorlois would be there for all to see. It was then that his enemies would act. Gorlois had been a popular man.

The loud voices had stilled without and Ambrosius could hear the low persuasive tones of Dubricus. Soon Ambrosius would have to go out and deal with the kings. This was a prospect he was not looking forward to, especially as he would be dealing with Cadwallon 'Lawhir' of Gwyned. A forceful man with strong views on the influence of the Aurilianii brothers. His name 'Lawhir' spoke not of the length or strength of his arm but the reach of his considerable power and influence. If Cadwallon could not be won over, then Ambrosius had no doubt that Uthyr’s fate would be sealed.

“Who is out there with 'Lawhir'?” asked Uthyr.
“Eillifyr of Elmet and Owen of Powys,” Ambrosius replied, as he looked to the door Dubricus had just gone through. He rose from his chair and bid Uthyr to remain in the room. Bracing himself Ambrosius walked out to meet the gathered kings.

He walked into a wintry silence.

Ambrosius smiled, **** them!
“I apologise for not greeting you earlier,” he said.
The three men who stood before him refrained from comment. Dubricus standing aside from the group sighed. It would not be long for the shouting and arguing began again, he thought.

The three kings could have being brothers so similar did they resemble each other. In truth they were distant relatives. Their families had formed alliances through wedlock over the preceding generations. This thin bond had never stopped them from warring with each other incessantly. Today, though, they were united in the one purpose. They wanted blood, the blood of the Pendragon.

It was Cadwallon, the fiercest and most grasping of the kings who stepped forward to speak. Young though the man was, he had earned a savage reputation for cruelty and brutality towards all who opposed him.
“Lord Emrys, we are here to seek justice for one our slain brothers,” he said, his voice harsh as the mountain country he hailed from.
“By your slain brother I take it to mean that you refer to the late lamented Gorlois and not Einnion,” Ambrosius replied, easily.

The others gathered looked askance at him as he finished speaking. Einnion 'Yrth' had ruled Gwynedd until Cadwallon had risen up in rebellion against him. Einnion's body was never discovered after the battle. A thin smile played itself across Cadwallon’s handsome face.
“Gorlois is dead and a price must be paid. His whore of a wife must burn and Uthyr must..,” he was saying when Ambrosius cut across him.
“Will marry her with Bishop Dubricus’s blessing,” he said looking to the priest.

The smile faded from Cadwallon’s face as he glanced to Dubricus.
“It cannot be. I will not stand for it! He is a kingslayer,” Cadwallon snapped.
The other two kings looked uncertain looking from Ambrosius to Cadwallon. Ambrosius leaned closer to the king of Gwynedd, his eyes burning with anger.
“He is my brother! Do you understand my lord? I will not stand idly by and allow you to kill him. That is my final word on the matter. Now you can enjoy the hospitality of my hall for the night and come the morrow return to your respective courts,” Ambrosius said, his tone edged with steel.
Cadwallon considered Ambrosius for a long moment before turning on his heels to depart.

Eillifyr of Elmet shrugged his shoulders. “You play a dangerous game, Emrys but you have no need to fear for Uthyr from my hand. But he can no longer be the Pendragon. Another will be chosen.”
And with that he left, Owen following on his heels. When they were gone Ambrosius turned to Dubricus.
“That went well,” he said with a smile.
The Bishop cursed.
“We are damned as a race!” he replied with feeling.

[woodsman]

Superb. Mists of Avalon seems to spring to mind a little, Have you read it?
Although it's not actually that similar but thought it might be of interest considering the period your writing on.

Like it though! No complaints I can think of , another good piece.

Cheers, Jez.

[Oykib]

Tempers were hot and Ambrosius paced the room in agitation. Uthyr sat at the hearth nursing a cup of wine in one hand and holding his head in the other. ***Let me start off by saying this, and I feel A LOT of writers do this and it drives me crazy. Your character names are annoyingly complicated, which distracts from the story. As creative as they are, I spend more time figuring out how to pronounce them, than reading the content of the first sentence. Consider renaming OR putting a pronunciation key before the story so I can prepare to make up new names to call them in my head rather than trying to figure out how to say them*** The third man in the room looked from one brother to the other in silent anger. He was tonsured like a monk and wore a long, loose, white robe. He had a weak chin that belied the ferocity of his temperament and his iron will. All his life he had watched men like Ambrosius and Uthyr tear themselves apart in petty squabbles.

It was a failing of the lords of Britain ***I’m from the US and therefore not familiar with British names. Are these common British names?***, their love of discord and chaos. The few men that had attempted to rise above the quagmire of the battling factions were quickly brought down. Vortigern had ***Perhaps delete “had”, sounds smoother*** being one such. The monk shook his head at the memory of that tortured soul. He had the right idea, Vortigern, but not the wit or will to see it through. In the end he had invited the Saxons with promises of lands and riches to fight off his enemies. Vortigern’s dreams of a united kingdom under one overlord had ended in disaster for all.

He was slain by the very men in this room and the Saxons had gained a strong foothold on the east coast of the island. It was from there that they sallied forth every year to gain more lands. Ambrosius stopped pacing and looked squarely at the monk.

“Well, Bishop Dubricus, what say you? Can he marry the girl?” Ambrosius asked.
Dubricus looked to the disconsolate figure of Uthyr at the fireplace. He had had so much hope for these brothers. But after the first joyous flush of their victories over Vortigern and the Saxons, they too had been dragged in to the quagmire and morass of tribal politics. It was Uthyr and then Ambrosius, so capable, who had refused the High-Kingship and allowed Riothamus to take on the mantle.

“If he proves that he had nothing to do with Gorlois’s death then I see no reason…” ***I feel overloaded with characters before I can rightfully say I know much about the main characters you’ve already introduced. Consider spilling more story before forcing a list of characters on the reader***Dubricus was saying when Uthyr cursed loudly interrupting him.
“How many times must I say it? I did not have the man killed. I am the Pendragon and he was a fast friend to me.” ***Fast friend? Is that British slang? I’ve honestly never heard it put that way***

A fast friend with a beautiful wife, thought Dubricus and he could see that Ambrosius was thinking the same thing. From beyond the chambers door they could hear voices raised in argument. Ambrosius moved close to Dubricus.

“If you marry them then none would believe him guilty or if they do then they will think twice about accusing him of murder. You are known as the most honest man on the island,” Ambrosius said.

Dubricus looked up at Ambrosius, searching the younger man’s face. Ambrosius did not believe Uthyr was innocent but he would not throw his brother to the wolves. He pulled up a chair and sat next to the bishop.

Uthyr continued to stare in to the fire seemingly oblivious of the two.
“Riothamus is dead. You have read the letters from Gaul. His army was led in to a trap and slaughtered by Euric. Ten thousand Briton warriors gone and never to return to these shores again. We are on the edge here. Riothamus stripped all the lands west of Londinium of men for his folly and now we must face the Saxons lacking the means to fight them. We must have some semblance of unity,” Ambrosius said earnestly.

Dubricus sighed. Ambrosius was right. They would need Uthyr’s strength in the coming year against the Saxons. There was no one else who could lead men in battle like him. Without Uthyr to lead, the kings of Britain would fight alone and alone they would fall.

“I will marry them,” the Bishop said rising to his feet. “Now who is out there?”

Ambrosius gave a crooked smile. “The usual bloodthirsty bunch. The kings of Powys, Gwynedd and Elmet all baying for Uthyr’s blood,” he said.

“Twdfwlch?” ***Wha?***

“No but he has let it be known that if ever Uthyr sets foot in his lands then he will have him slain,” Ambrosius said, looking across at his brother.

“Let him try,” Uthyr growled.

This was too much for Ambrosius, who told Uthyr to be silent unless he had anything useful to say.***Why did you tell this instead of dialoguing it?*** Dubricus decided not to comment on the antagonism between the two brothers. He was used to dealing with ambitious and proud men. Uthyr and Ambrosius were mild in comparison to some of the wilder lords of the west.

“I will go out and speak to them but I am not sure if it will do any use,” he said with feeling. If they wanted Uthyr’s head then they would get it. To act as Pendragon, you needed the support of these very kings. It would now seem that Uthyr’s days in that role were numbered no matter what he said or the support Ambrosius gave his brother.
***Ok here is where you switch points of view, it needs to be noted by asterisks, a line, a star, a break in text or something, but either way you need to grammatically indicate you have switched PoV***
Ambrosius spoke his thanks to the bishop as he left the room. When he was gone he considered Uthyr, who looked back at him with a strained smile.

“A good man the Bishop…as was Gorlois,” Ambrosius said.

“I did not…” Uthyr began to protest only to be savagely cut off by his brother.

“Do not treat me as a fool! Gorlois’s body is found slaughtered on the road and you flee Tintagel with his wife. Not only do you make off with her but now you want to wed the girl. And is it true that she is with child?” Ambrosius said, his voice low and angered.

Uthyr’s silence was enough of an answer for him. He had feared the truth of it when the first rumour was whispered to him. The months would be counted back from the birth of the child and Uthyr’s betrayal of Gorlois would be there for all to see. It was then that his enemies would act. Gorlois had been a popular man.

The loud voices had stilled without and Ambrosius could hear the low persuasive tones of Dubricus. Soon Ambrosius would have to go out and deal with the kings. This was a prospect he was not looking forward to, especially as he would be dealing with Cadwallon 'Lawhir' of Gwyned. A forceful man with strong views on the influence of the Aurilianii brothers. His name 'Lawhir' spoke not of the length or strength of his arm but the reach of his considerable power and influence. If Cadwallon could not be won over, then Ambrosius had no doubt that Uthyr’s fate would be sealed.

“Who is out there with 'Lawhir'?” asked Uthyr.

“Eillifyr of Elmet and Owen of Powys,” Ambrosius replied, as he looked to the door Dubricus had just gone through. He rose from his chair and bid Uthyr to remain in the room. Bracing himself Ambrosius walked out to meet the gathered kings.

He walked into a wintry silence.

Ambrosius smiled, **** them!

“I apologise ***spelling*** for not greeting you earlier,” he said.
The three men who stood before him refrained from comment. Dubricus standing aside from the group sighed. It would not be long for the shouting and arguing began again, he thought. ***Here you jump into someone else’s mind. Unless you’re using an Omniscient point of view you can’t do this without a break in the story (which also breaks the flow and usually wraps up a scene).***

The three kings could have being brothers so similar did they resemble each other. In truth they were distant relatives. Their families had formed alliances through wedlock over the preceding generations. This thin bond had never stopped them from warring with each other incessantly. Today, though, they were united in the one purpose. They wanted blood, the blood of the Pendragon. ***Here you seem to have drifted into an Omnicient point of view. Also, with three kings all in one place, I would have assumed there would be a large army of bodyguards protecting them, but there seems to be none. They are kings after all, perhaps you could use that to paint a more vivid picture for the reader***

It was Cadwallon, the fiercest and most grasping of the kings who stepped forward to speak. Young though the man was, he had earned a savage reputation for cruelty and brutality towards all who opposed him.

“Lord Emrys, we are here to seek justice for one our slain brothers,” he said, his voice harsh as the mountain country he hailed from.


“By your slain brother I take it to mean that you refer to the late lamented Gorlois and not Einnion,” Ambrosius replied, easily.

The others gathered looked askance at him as he finished speaking. Einnion 'Yrth' had ruled Gwynedd until Cadwallon had risen up in rebellion against him. Einnion's body was never discovered after the battle. A thin smile played itself across Cadwallon’s handsome face.

“Gorlois is dead and a price must be paid. His whore of a wife must burn and Uthyr must..,” he was saying when Ambrosius cut across him.

“Will marry her with Bishop Dubricus’s blessing,” he said looking to the priest.

The smile faded from Cadwallon’s face as he glanced to Dubricus. “It cannot be. I will not stand for it! He is a kingslayer,” Cadwallon snapped.
The other two kings looked uncertain looking ***You used “look” twice here***from Ambrosius to Cadwallon. Ambrosius leaned closer to the king of Gwynedd, his eyes burning with anger.

“He is my brother! Do you understand my lord? I will not stand idly by and allow you to kill him. That is my final word on the matter. Now you can enjoy the hospitality of my hall for the night and come the morrow return to your respective courts,” Ambrosius said, his tone edged with steel.

Cadwallon considered Ambrosius for a long moment before turning on his heels to depart.

Eillifyr of Elmet shrugged his shoulders. “You play a dangerous game, Emrys but you have no need to fear for Uthyr from my hand. But he can no longer be the Pendragon. Another will be chosen.”

And with that he left, Owen following on his heels. When they were gone Ambrosius turned to Dubricus. “That went well,” he said with a smile.


The Bishop cursed.


“We are damned as a race!” he replied with feeling.


Apparently Ambrosius’s influence is pretty grand to have butted heads with not only 1 but 3 kings the way he did. Historically speaking, Kings did not behave this way. Kings expect to be treated in the utmost respect, they think of themselves as above-human, almost like gods. If they wanted anyone questioned, they would have had them brought before them or their court and not visited them in this way. If they suspected foul play, they would have simply arrested him or sent an army to destroy his manner rather than go and be talked to this way. I just can't realistically see a king acting so...human. Kings are hotheaded, quick to action, wild with their power (at least usually) and you have three here that seem very weak and powerless.

I feel like you introduced a lot of characters that simply were unimportant and it makes it very hard to keep up with, especially with the style of naming you’ve used which only goes to make the characters more difficult to follow.

You have good ability but you need to work on your presentation to make the story clearer. Remember less details and back-story is usually better. Use situations and dialogue to kind of “show” the reader the history of the world instead of telling it all up front.

Is this aiming for a novel or a short story?

Take everything I say lightly, I’m very picky. Keep writing!

-Dustin

[svalbard]

Hi Oykib,

Thanks for the detailed critique. It is a first draft and I will be working on the povs. The names are problematic. A lot the characters are real historical people from 5th and 6th century Britain. The story is part of a wider tale of 'king' Arthur.

Here is a link to the first part of the story, that was directly before this

http://www.chronicles-network.com/fo...n-fiction.html

Kings in these days ruled under a different model than the later middle-age autocrats. They controlled small areas of land and were little more than the local strongman in certain areas.

Thanks for the comments and hints.

[Peter Graham]

Hello Svalbard,

I like this. I think you have really captured the essence of the state of kingship in 5th Century Britain - the petty factional squabbles of a ragtag collection of kinglets had Gildas tearing what was left of his hair out. You capture this beautifully - well done!

A few points/ suggestions. The first one is the usual Graham/Svalbard name debate. I really think that you should refer to Vortigern and Uthyr as titles rather than proper names - "I am the Uthyr Pendragon". The Uthyr is as much a part of the title as the Pendragon. You could give him a proper name which is utterly unpronouncable and exasperate poor Oykib even further! The same with Vortigern - he is "The Vortigern". Really, Pendragon and Vortigern refer to the same thing - the nominal overlord of the independent British kingdoms. The names could even be synonyms - like "boss" and "gaffer".

Secondly, Woodsman makes the same observation about The Mists of Avalon - your tone is very similar. Gorlois makes his first appearance in modern Arthurian fiction in Mists, although he may also crop up in Cornwell for all I know (I haven't read it). If you have read Mists, you might want to think about changing the tone of your work a bit.

Thirdly (and Zimmer Bradley is guilty of this in Mists), there is a tendency to info dump. Oykib has a point when he talks about the preponderance of names. You can also drift into the "information as dialogue" trap. It's a marathon, not a sprint so there's no harm in letting things come out later.

Some examples:-

He had the right idea, Vortigern, but not the wit or will to see it through. In the end he had invited the Saxons with promises of lands and riches to fight off his enemies. Vortigern’s dreams of a united kingdom under one overlord had ended in disaster for all.

He was slain by the very men in this room and the Saxons had gained a strong foothold on the east coast of the island. It was from there that they sallied forth every year to gain more lands. Ambrosius stopped pacing and looked squarely at the monk.
“Well, Bishop Dubricus, what say you? Can he marry the girl?” Ambrosius asked.
Dubricus looked to the disconsolate figure of Uthyr at the fireplace. He had had so much hope for these brothers. But after the first joyous flush of their victories over Vortigern and the Saxons, they too had been dragged in to the quagmire and morass of tribal politics. It was Uthyr and then Ambrosius, so capable, who had refused the High-Kingship and allowed Riothamus to take on the mantle.

There is a lot of back story in here. We certainly need it, but perhaps not all in one go.

Uthyr continued to stare in to the fire seemingly oblivious of the two.
“Riothamus is dead. You have read the letters from Gaul. His army was led in to a trap and slaughtered by Euric. Ten thousand Briton warriors gone and never to return to these shores again. We are on the edge here. Riothamus stripped all the lands west of Londinium of men for his folly and now we must face the Saxons lacking the means to fight them. We must have some semblance of unity,” Ambrosius said earnestly.

The dialogue is a bit unconvincing because it is really an info-dump for the benefit of the reader. The characters would all know what had happened to Riothamus and his men - it affects them closely and deeply. They' d be unlikely to need to explain it to each other like this. It'd be a bit like one of your pals saying "Svalbard. Let us go to the pub down the road which we have been to every Friday since we were fifteen. It is called the Lamb and Flag and it serves Real Ale, bacon rolls and Whinnets Wessex Cider. The jukebox is good and it's always "winner stays on" at the pool table." You'd think he was barking!

“Lord Emrys, we are here to seek justice for one our slain brothers,” he said, his voice harsh as the mountain country he hailed from.
“By your slain brother I take it to mean that you refer to the late lamented Gorlois and not Einnion,” Ambrosius replied, easily.

The others gathered looked askance at him as he finished speaking. Einnion 'Yrth' had ruled Gwynedd until Cadwallon had risen up in rebellion against him. Einnion's body was never discovered after the battle. A thin smile played itself across Cadwallon’s handsome face.

More of the same, I'm afraid.

Finally, and with my 'Vortigern apologist' hat on, don't forget that settling the Saxons on Thanet was entirely in keeping with the long standing Roman military practice of planting 'foederati' wholesale in their provinces to keep the peace. As the empire crumbled, it was no longer possible to properly assimilate them into the Army, so the next best thing was to send them lock stock and barrel to a foreign troublespot. I suspect that Saxons had been settled as foederati in Britain for some years (especially in Yorkshire and Lincolnshire), and I wouldn't mind betting that those earlier settlers were fairly well assimilated and took little or no part in the Saxon uprising.


Anyhow, overall I like your approach. I think your work is of a consistently high quality and I really hope you keep going with it.

Regards,

Peter

[Funngunner]

I liked it, and that's saying something since I never jumped onto the fantasy bandwagon. (Full disclosure: I never made it through the 'long walk' part of the first Tolkien book...) I like that you kept a historical grounding for it, or at least more than the blech of a movie: King Arthur...

Curious, how did you go about researching it, and how much of your tale is steeped in the reality of time?

Keep going with it, I'm liking it...

[svalbard]

Hi Peter,

Thanks for the comments. I do not believe I will ever move you from your viewpoint on the whole Celtic/Saxon conflict thing. I agree that about the foederati, there is historical evidence for it. I do not intend to paint the Saxons as the evil villains. I believe I have shown a flavour of the problems that Arthur will encounter when dealing with his own people.

I might be moved on Vortigern. He is referred to in some texts by the name of Vitilinus(sp). Uthyr will remain unchanged. His name is too ingrained in Arthurian legend for me to go and change it. Info dumps are something I hope to eradicate in the later drafts and your comments on them are very helpful to me in identifying them.

Fungunner, I am glad you liked it. The research is down to years of reading and seeking out any Arthurian book, be it historical or fictional. I also read up on quite a lot of material on dark age Europe. As for how much of the story is real. Not much I am afraid. The sources are scant on exact dates and events.

[Spectrum]

Originally Posted by Oykib

***Let me start off by saying this, and I feel A LOT of writers do this and it drives me crazy. Your character names are annoyingly complicated, which distracts from the story. As creative as they are, I spend more time figuring out how to pronounce them, than reading the content of the first sentence. Consider renaming OR putting a pronunciation key before the story so I can prepare to make up new names to call them in my head rather than trying to figure out how to say them***

Just put in a pronunciation guide. Every serious piece of literature that uses fictional names should have this anyway.

“Twdfwlch?”

OMG, what a name! Remember, pronunciation guide.

***Ok here is where you switch points of view, it needs to be noted by asterisks, a line, a star, a break in text or something, but either way you need to grammatically indicate you have switched PoV***
...
. ***Here you jump into someone else’s mind. Unless you’re using an Omniscient point of view you can’t do this without a break in the story (which also breaks the flow and usually wraps up a scene).***

I completely disagree with this "rule". I find it cooler when a story shifts perspective with no pre-amble. It makes the narrative seem more alive, less stiff and bound by mechanical constraints.

(BTW, for those of you who need to see a famous person do something before you accept it as allowed, Steven Erikson (Malazan Book of the Fallen), Michael Moorcock (Elric of Melniboné) and Brian Lumley (Necroscope) all do this.)

I feel like you introduced a lot of characters that simply were unimportant and it makes it very hard to keep up with, especially with the style of naming you’ve used which only goes to make the characters more difficult to follow.
...
Remember less details and back-story is usually better.

Again, I completely disagree. I like the info dump. To me, the opening of a story is much better if I don't completely understand it. The beginning of a book should be a glimpse into a rich and complex world full of characters and background story. It's the excitement of piecing the world together, the craving to learn how it all fits together, that drives me through books, and the opening should be a teaser for this. After reading 10-20 pages I want to be left thinking: "Wow, there's a lot of stuff in here. I can't wait to hear more about all these things that were hinted at."

So, my conclusion is that you should keep the chapter as it is. I think it kicks butt. It also gives me a strong "Song of Ice and Fire" vibe. Anyone agree?

[Peter Graham]

Hello Svalbard,

Thanks for the comments. I do not believe I will ever move you from your viewpoint on the whole Celtic/Saxon conflict thing.

I probably bang on about it a bit too much - please accept my apologies!

I believe I have shown a flavour of the problems that Arthur will encounter when dealing with his own people.

I agree - the bickering between the kings is very strong and very convincing in your excerpts.

I might be moved on Vortigern. He is referred to in some texts by the name of Vitilinus(sp).

He certainly is. Vitalinus is a Roman name, I believe. In one genealogy, Vortigern is shown as the son of Vitalinus, but that is almost certainly an attempt to shoe-horn all the available evidence into a coherent whole. Of course, we'll never know, but I think there is an arguable case for thinking that Vitalinus and Vortigern are one and the same.

I suspect that the Vortipor so beloved of Gildas is another family member!

Uthyr will remain unchanged. His name is too ingrained in Arthurian legend for me to go and change it.

Fair point. You're probably right.

Regards,

Peter

[Peter Graham]

Hello Fungunner,

Curious, how did you go about researching it, and how much of your tale is steeped in the reality of time?

As Svalbard says, there is very little genuine historical material from this period of time (you can glean much more from archaeology, but it's fairly dry to read). You've got Nennius (a monk who, in his own words, made a "heap of all he could find"), Bede, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, the Goddodin (an epic Celtic battle poem) and the Annales Cambriae, but all (with the possible exeption of the Goddodin) were written a fair time after the events they describe. There is only one significant contemporary surviving text - a colourful and fruity rant against the British kings which was written by a monk called Gildas. Depending on your interpretation of his rather odd writing style, he is writing within living memory of the Battle of Badon, which accepted folk wisdom attributes to "the real King Arthur". But Gildas doesn't name Arthur.

From this, a number of other conventions and assumptions have arisen in books dealing with a "historically accurate" Arthurian setting. They crop up time after time, although there is very often no historical evidence to justify the assumption (although, as Svalbard rightly says, people expect to see it). The most common ones are:-

1. Arthur is the bastard son of Uther Pendragon

2. Arthur is born at Tintagel, the castle of King Gorlois of Cornwall

3. Uther Pendragon is some sort of relation to Ambrosius Aurelianus, the man who probably organised significant British resistance to the Saxons.

4. Mordred is Arthur's sworn enemy.

5. Mordred is the product of an incestuous relationship between Arthur and (usually) Morgana le Fay (of whom there is no mention at all in the early sources).

6. Mordred allies with the Saxons and fights Arthur at the Battle of Camlann

7. Arthur is mortally wounded at Camlann and heads off to Avalon (usually said to be Glastonbury Tor).

Right. There will be a short test later. Pens down!

Regards,

Peter