This particular one is one of my longest ongoing projects. By longest I mean its been around for nearly five years now. This is its latest incarnation, following closely to the original idea but hopefully with better embellishments. I do apologize that its only a small thing at the moment. You have to let these thing ferment a bit before you go full blast.
As a side note, the quote from Saint Augustine's Confessions can be found at http://www.ccel.org/ccel/augustine/confessions.xiv.html. If you haven't read at least a small portion of this master work, I do suggest you try it out. Especially, read it aloud. The beauty of it is unparalleled in any other work of heavenly adoration.
The Roman departure from Britain was complete by the year 410 AD. They left behind them a country without protection or government; a country just waiting for someone to lead it or destroy it. For a brief period between 410 and the coming of the Anglo-Saxons, there was a kingdom that exemplified the virtues of liberty, equality, peace and government. This kingdom, now existing only in the myths and legends of the British Isles, is that of King Arthur, the noblest man, the greatest the world has ever known.
Our story begins after Arthur became king of Britain and was married to the lady Guinevere. As of yet there are no knights, there is no Round Table, and Lancelot has never been heard of before. But there has been peace for nearly three years now, a peace everyone hopes will last and no one really believes will.
1
Arthur had been reading the Confessions of Augustine of Hippo in his quarters all morning. He was a devoutly Christian man whose greatest delight was to study his religion. In this Augustine’s book, he found himself both convicted of his own sins and convinced once again of the goodness and glory of God. His eyes were very bright as he read, “Consequently, we lay bare our feelings before Thee, that, through our confessing to Thee our plight and Thy mercies toward us, Thou mayest go on to free us altogether, as Thou hast already begun; and that we may cease to be wretched in ourselves and blessed in Thee - since Thou hast called us to be poor in spirit, meek, mourners, hungering and athirst for righteousness, merciful and pure in heart.” He was halfway through the next sentence when Joles, the steward of Arthur’s house, came into the room, waiting a respectful distance away as he finished reading.With a sigh, Arthur put the book away and said, “What is it now, Joles?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you on a Sunday, sire” replied the steward, taking a few steps forward, “but Father Paulus came to see me not long ago with a complaint about your foster son, Cador.” Arthur closed his eyes long-sufferingly. “It seems he is outside the wall, gambling again with his comrades.”
The king stood and cast about for his cloak. “He’s been told not to gamble on the Lord’s Day,” he growled, unable to find his cloak. “Its not that I personally care about his habits of leisure, you understand, but Father Paulus has the odious task of educating him in Christianity. I would avoid having to listen to him complain as much as possible.”
Joles took up the cloak from a nearby chair. “I understand, sir,” he agreed. “The lad is stubborn, I’m afraid.”
“The unfortunate influence of his mother.” Arthur took the cloak and belted on his sword. “Well, where is Guinevere?”
“In the stables,” said Joles helpfully. He could always be counted on to know the whereabouts of those who belonged to the house. In that way, as well as in many others, he was a most effective steward.
“Thank you,” said Arthur heading out. “Oh, and, Joles,” he said over his shoulder, “thanks for taking care of Father Paulus earlier.”
Joles chuckled. “You’re welcome, sire.”
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