Young Writers Society

Uther Pendragon sat on his throne, watching the two children demonstrate their new sword skills. On the left, gracefully swinging her wooden practice sword, was Morgana. She was the king’s ward, though he treated her like a daughter, and had long black hair and a pale complexion. The people of Camelot thought she was as beautiful and elegant as a princess, but Uther knew she had the strength to become a deadly warrior. On the right was his son, Arthur, the future crowned-prince. He had messy blonde hair, a strong build, and bright blue eyes. Though only twelve, Arthur was a skilled swordsman and held his weapon steadily at Morgana.

As the young girl lunged forward, thrusting her sword towards him, Arthur stepped to the side. A cloud moved in the sky, and a ray of light shone through the window, temporarily blinding Morgana. He used this to his advantage and flung his sword at her.

“Hit!” Uther declared as his son gently tapped her shoulder. Arthur was a proud little boy, though, and he let his guard down to celebrate.

“I got you!” He bragged, holding the wooden sword at his side. Morgana swung her weapon at his legs, not showing the same gentleness as her opponent, and knocked Arthur right off his feet!

“Hit!” Uther laughed, and Morgana smiled victoriously, never lowering her sword. Arthur wrapped his arms around his knees on the floor, sniffing.

“That’s not fair! I’d already won!”

“Come now, Arthur,” Uther stood from his throne, “and get up. A knight doesn’t sob when he’s knocked down.”

“He gets back up,” Morgana held her chin high, “and keeps fighting!” Arthur blushed at being made a fool in front of a girl, and promptly rose to his feet. A bruise was forming on his leg, but none the less he held the sword in a fighting stance.

“You’re not meant to hurt me,” Arthur complained, “I didn’t whack you!”

“You’re going to get whacked a lot when you’re older,” she smirked, “so get used to it!” Morgana jumped to her right, not even trying to hit him. This confused Arthur, and he stabbed his sword at her. She giggled, dodging each blow, and ran a circle around him. Arthur followed her, spinning on the spot, and tried to hit the moving target. He couldn’t though, Morgana was too quick.

“Remember what I told you,” Uther lowered himself back into the throne, judging his heir’s performance. Arthur stopped in his tracks, breathed deeply, and focussed on one spot in the room. He waited patiently, until Morgana was almost in his sight, and lunged forward.

She skidded to a halt, nearly running straight into his weapon. As Arthur swung towards her, she jumped back, narrowly missing his blow. Now he had the upper hand, and started swiping at the air around Morgana. She raised her arm, their wooden swords banging together. Morgana was nimble, but not as strong as her opponent. He thrust harder, pushing her towards the wall. Just before she was trapped, Morgana ducked down and shuffled out of the way. Arthur’s sword hit the stone wall, and he grunted in frustration.

“You won’t get me!” Morgana teased, straightening her posture. She was about to begin running again, but Arthur quickly swung around, his sword heading straight for the king’s ward. Morgana gasped and raised her weapon to block his strike, but he was too fast, and her sword was knocked out of her hand.

“Concede the battle, Morgana!” Arthur ordered, pointing his sword at her.

She rolled her eyes and said, “Fine, but only because I’m hungry!” Arthur grinned triumphantly, depositing his practice sword in a sheath on his belt. Morgana looked towards Uther, who clapped his gloved hands.

“Well done, the both of you.”

“But I won, father,” Arthur interrupted, feeling that only he deserved praise.

“You did very well, Arthur, but a good knight also knows when to admit defeat.”

“Can we go eat now?” Morgana asked, looking eagerly towards the open door. Uther nodded and motioned to an old woman who had been hiding amongst the shadows near the exit.

“Take them outdoors for a packed luncheon.” The woman curtsied at her king and walked out the doors to follow his order. Morgana and Arthur’s faces both brightened at the prospect of a well-earnt picnic. They followed her, giggling and jumping about. Really, they should have bowed to Uther before exiting, but he didn’t mind. The king was proud of his two children, and wished them a happy childhood before they had to experience the sorrows and hardships of governing a kingdom.