Captured By A Lone Lord

Copyright all rights reserved to Monica Pereira 2013
Smashwords Edition

Camella walked through the forest -  she wasn't sure where she was headed, she was lost amongst an ocean of leaves and she knew she could only walk.  She walked in a dream like a goddess in ancient times, and when the days grew long her smile was able to shine.  The forest was lovely, she didn't even grow hungry for anything but water and when she came across a brook or waterfall she was able to drink.  

However then Mordred showed up and he smiled as he saw a woman who had been turned into a slave after Arthur had ruptured her father's kingdom.  Mordred couldn't believe that the royal princess had been able to get away from Arthur’s army.  She must have been a good runner or a lucky escape for if she had stayed in the castle she would have been surely murdered -  Arthur's army was like a hoe and it slashed enemy ground apart.  

“He is the rogue, but his efforts have value;”  thought Mordred as he narrowed his eyes and then leapt forward on his horse. 


Camella glared at Mordred who appeared before her like a warrior king.  He pointed his sword at her and he leered as he grinned.

“Lady Camella!”  he shouted.  “What a day it is to have you brought to me;”  he declared.

“Brought?  I have been not brought, I have walked;”  she told Mordred to make him dismantle his fantasy.

“Efforts of greatness have brought you to me, and so you must kneel -  I am your warrior;”  told Mordred before he slipped off his horse and stood before her like a King who had yet to win a kingdom.

“What do you want with me?”  asked Camella as she glared at Mordred.  “You are a boy not a lord, go and walk away;”  she advised.  “I am too old for you;”  she added.

“Not!”  gasped Mordred as he stepped forward.  “I am your victor, kneel or feel a cut!”  he gasped.

Camella shivered as Mordred slashed his sword before her and slowly she sunk her heart in order to kneel before him.  Mordred glared at her as she narrowed his eyes, he felt heated and he could not smile.  

“Lay down on the ground face down!”  he ordered.

Camella did so and as soon as she had laid down Mordred pounced onto her and tied her wrists with rope.  When bound Mordred pulled Camella to stand and he coaxed her towards his horse, there he mounted her onto his horse and rode away -  he had his princess and soon there was going to be a marriage.


Camella walked back and forth as she nibbled on her thoughts.  She was Mordred's captive and he had slung her into a room which was like a prison cell.  Camella trembled as she thought about Mordred -  he had dark hair, blue eyes, and a personality that was young but fierce.  She didn't want to marry him and she pleaded to God to have her set free lest she be tainted by the warrior blood inside of Mordred.

“I can't marry that kind of royal!”  she gasped as she stepped back and forth.  “I can't!”  she added.


Mordred glared at Camella as he stepped into the room.  She was busy with her shadow and she failed to see him.  He wanted to bite at her to make her scream, however he didn't bite he simply walked around her until she noticed his presence.

Camella screamed as she noticed Mordred and she slunk herself against a wall.  Mordred glared at Camella until she recoiled.

“What is all this stress?”  he asked.  “Am I frightening?”  he asked.

“Oh yes!”  gasped Camella.

“Why so?  I have treated you like a queen -  clean food, baths twice per day, blanket on hay;”  he muttered.  “What more could you ask?”  he questioned as he glared.

“I am unsure;”  told Camella as she shivered.  “I just feel as though you might be in a fantasy of foul ambition;”  she muttered.

“No fantasy Camella the plot is simple -  marry you, have a royal heir, and kick King Arthur off his land;”  told Mordred as he continued to glare.

“Why don't you and Arthur live in peace?”  asked Camella as she began to grow faint inside of herself. 

She was a coward, she was aware.  She was unsure how to feel strong when all she could feel was weakness.

“Do not create silly inside of your mind Camella;”  told Mordred as he crooked his neck.  “You sit and be you, and I shall deliver;”  he declared.

“How can you be so sure?”  asked Camella as she narrowed her eyes.

“Because it is in my fate;” told Mordred before he took Camella's arm so that she could feel his strength.

Camella shivered as she felt his might.  She wanted to fear Mordred -  beneath his skin she felt only ambition and for the first time she feared that he might be able to win a great kingdom.  

“Your father is dead, your mother is dead, your sisters are dead;”  whispered Mordred.  “They died under Arthur's sword and that is what you will face if you do not give yourself to me;”  he added.

“My father was being foolish -  he was told to sign a treaty with Arthur and he fought against it;”  told Camella as she narrowed her eyes.  “I will not be so foolish;”  she added.

“But you are being foolish now;”  told Mordred as he glared.  “You will not sign the treaty I offer... he muttered before he presented a royal ring.  “Or will you?”  he asked as he lifted his stare so that Camella could see the soul inside.

Camella looked and saw only glass; Mordred was unable to be read and she sighed. 

“Fine I shall marry you, but only because you are mightier then I;”  she added before she stretched out her fingers.

“I shall exclude you from talking;”  told Mordred as he glared at Camella.  “I will not listen to you in the future;”  he muttered before he gave her an ice-cold peck on the cheek before he slipped the ring onto her finger. 

Camella wanted to cry as she shivered once again.  She didn't want to marry Mordred he was as cold as ice.  However she knew that she would have to, and so she clutched her hand to make the ring feel less heavy.

“I shall try and hold my tongue;”  she muttered after a moment. 

“You shall never try;”  told Mordred.  “I shall always be there to silence you;”  he muttered before he stepped back and walked away.  “We marry within one day;”  he added before he closed the door.

Camella wanted to cry! She wished for Mordred to cool down, to forgive, to give her heart -  he was too heavy for her and it broke her mind in two.  She couldn't give herself to Mordred but she knew she would -  within one day she would be pregnant with bastard seed, and she would not be able to extract it.

“Oh father!  Why had you been so stubborn!”  gasped Camella before she began to grow ill with faint.


Camella married Mordred by the sullen marshes.  He smiled as she cried, and when he kissed her she felt so cold she almost fainted. However she kept on her feet and when the ceremony had been complete Mordred took Camella to her cell and made love to her on the hay.  

The child grew quick and by the next morning Camella had a child.  It was large and very pale -  it looked strange to her, however she nursed it as Mordred gasped from the corner of her cell.

“What on earth is that thing?”  he asked as he glared with eyes hung out of their socket.  “I expected something weak, something wet, even liquid;”  he muttered.  “But this is human and beast put together, no mortal has seen such a thing!”  he gasped.  “Are you a witch?  Should I have you burnt?” he asked as he glared at Camella.

“No, it is yours;”  told Camella as she fed her child until it began to grow a red rash.

“Now you are turning it into a demon!”  gasped Mordred as he stepped forward and snatched the child from Camella's wet nipple.  “I shall do away with it!  Then when I return I will do away with you!” he gasped before he began to carry the child out of the cell.

However the child grew too heavy and by the time Mordred reached the door he had no strength.  Mordred sighed as he flung a hand over his brow.

“Go back to your mother;”  he muttered before he stepped out of the room.  “Go to hell the both of you!”  he gasped before he slammed the door closed.


Mordred worried as the days passed and his child grew into a man.  Mordred nibbled on his fingers as he saw his young son blossom into a man.  He seemed to have the seed of some native God of the past, and he worried.

“What am I to do?  With this growth I shall be blamed for witchcraft!”  he gasped before he began to pace.  “Perhaps I should try and lose my son in the forest?” he asked.  “Or perhaps I should throw him to the Lady of the Lake?”  he asked.  “I cannot keep him lest it be my overthrow;” he muttered before he began to pace once again.


Mordred's head was a mess of worries as he glared at his youth. The child was too big and he grew faint of faith as he offered the youth the castle grounds to sit in and play.  His son was larger then a horse and his army men laughed as Mordred continued to feel small and weak.  He couldn't call his son anything but a freak and one morning he moved to cut Camella's neck.

However Camella fought Mordred as soon as the blade touched her skin, and he was able to back off within an instant.  Camella had strength however it was his sympathy that had made him step back.  He later sent in a cup to have Camella poisoned and that night she died.


Mordred burnt Camella's body and then he narrowed his eyes.  He heard a horse, and when a trumpet sounded all were forced inside of the castle grounds.  Mordred paced inside of his castle as his son lingered in the lobby.  Mordred was later told Camella's body had been escorted to the Lady of the Lake and Mordred felt thunder inside.

However Mordred had no time to battle with his anger soon it was declared that king Arthur had arrived to take down his castle.  Mordred narrowed his eyes and rallied his men for war.  He told his son to stay behind, however as soon as the army men saw his strength they offered Mordred son a horse.  

Mordred scowled at the giant who was urged to ride close to him, and he grew hate as he met King Arthur's army face on.  Mordred couldn't see Arthur, as usual he had dressed himself up as a beggar.  Mordred shook his head as he scowled -  he needed to find that king and demand he die for his win.  It took forever however Mordred found Arthur he could see his figure through the mangled gang and he smiled.

“To war!”  he declared.


Trumpets were sounded, fire-balls were throw, and men raced to meet in a fierce clash.  Mordred fought very hard and so did his son who was stabbed several times until he turned into a whimpering ball on the bloodied earth.  His son would have been cut down if Mordred hadn't changed his heart.  He picked his son up off the ground, packed him onto a horse and told him to ride far.

“This war shall be won by me!”  he declared.  “You hide yourself for three days and then return to the castle!”  he told.  “You return and be greeted with food and drink, both made out of King Arthur's blood!”  he whispered before he smacked the horse to make it ride fast.


Mordred watched his son go -  for a moment he wished he could had ridden him to a cave to hide him for he was too young to ride alone.  However his horse knew where to go -  to greener pastures; even just locked to his horse his son would be able to return home when the horse grew needed for a bed of hay to lay on.  Mordred threw down his worry over his son's safety and he turned around -  for a moment he thought he saw Camella, however it was just the sun as it reflected off a person's army hat. 

Mordred walked forward with a beast inside of his heart.  He fought amongst the battling warriors and he cut many men in half.  After much effort he found his beggar who battled strong amongst a cluster of eight.  

Mordred killed two as the beggar killed all eight men and Mordred laughed before he stepped forward for his final battle.

“A salute to you fine king!”  gasped Mordred as he heard a scream as he stepped over a person's cut form and onto the leg of another.  

“King I shall always be!”  gasped Arthur as he saw his own bastard son shine strong in armour barely touched.  “Did you linger and let your men fight your battle for you?”  he asked.

“I battled and won;”  told Mordred before he grinned.

“Not before you sent that large knight away;”  told Arthur as he felt a tingle.  “Who was he?  Lancelot's cousin?” he asked.

“My son;”  told Mordred as he shrugged.  “I had a son;”

“I hadn't heard;”  told Arthur before he began to feel jealousy -  even with Lancelot's seed inside of her Guinevere still hadn't been able to offer a child.  “But now that I know I shall cut him after I have cut you!”  he gasped.

“You shall never swing a sword in your life when I am through with you;”  told Mordred before he swung his sword to show he was ready for battle.

“So be it;”  told Arthur before he picked up his own sword and readied for a fight.


The two battled amongst the men who were dead and dying.  Blood was breathed in on every breath as they swung and blocked one swing after another.  It was a heavy duel, but in the end Mordred managed to offer a swing so mighty he broke Arthur's sword in two.  Arthur looked at his broken sword for seconds before Mordred lunged and stabbed him good and deep.  Arthur felt a searing pain and he cried out loud before he was pushed to fall.  

Arthur felt the ground and he groaned as the dying groaned around his shoulders and feet.  Mordred laughed as he glared at Arthur.

“You lost!”  he declared as he smiled.

“You will lose!”  gasped Arthur before he quivered and died as a dead amongst many.

Mordred smiled and then he walked away.  He had lost his whole entire army, and he only carried his soul as he walked.  A light shone down over him and he thought it was the sun, however it was more then sun it was the spirit of Camella who followed Mordred as he stepped as a king who had won his crown and had no army to cheer for him.