Tales of the Lorekeepers 01 - Rise of the Red Dragon

Ambrosius.
    Immediately, the advisors dining with the current leader of the army whispered many opinions and theories about the presence of Ambrosius among them. Already, some of them were thinking of schemes to ally themselves with the son of Constantine II … should he succeed in overthrowing Vortigern, of course.
    The ruler of Britain stood and raised his hand to quiet his guests. Slowly, he walked over to the three newcomers. He looked into the eyes of Ambrosius, then gazed down on Myrddin. He opened his mouth to speak, but the young child spoke first.
    “Listen to my words, and hear the story of Dinas Ffaraon,” he said.
    “Speak on,” answered Vortigern.
    The warlord examined the young boy for a few seconds, unable to think of a reason why he had just agreed to listen to this child. He wanted to change his mind and order the guards to take the boy away, but he simply could not. Struggling against his own will for a moment, he finally turned away to look at the other prisoners who had been brought before him.
    He observed Ambrosius. Even after all these years, he would have recognized him anywhere. He was his enemy, of course, but he could not help remembering the young boy who would run around the castle holding a wooden sword and pretending to fight off some imaginary foes. Today, his face was slowly becoming a replica of his father’s, with infinite wisdom and unyielding courage clearly visible in the eyes of this descendant of Constantine. Unlike his older brother, this one projected leadership and the ability to inspire men.
    “Ambrosius Aurelianus,” said Vortigern.
    The prisoner did not respond to his name, content to simply look back at the eyes of his captor.
    “You’ve become a sturdy man. Your father would have been proud of you.”
    Ambrosius did not answer.
    “Tell me, then, to what do I owe the pleasure of welcoming you in my humble home?” asked Vortigern. “After all these years of looking for you, am I to believe that you would simply fall into my lap?”
    Again, Ambrosius remained silent.
    “Why are you here? Where is that short-tempered brother of yours?”
    Ambrosius looked over at Myrddin.
    “I’m here for him,” he said. “Wherever he goes, so do I. I’m here to make sure he does not become the latest victim of a murderer like yourself.”
    “Well, isn’t that the noble thing to do? Or rather, should I say, a stupid thing to do.” Vortigern looked at the guards that stood behind the prisoners. “Leave us. Do not say a word to anyone about this traitor’s presence in our camp. If I hear so much as the wind whispering his name, your heads will spend the night at the end of a wooden spike.”
    “Afraid it would rally the troops against you, old man?” asked Ambrosius, defiantly.
    Vortigern pretended to ignore the attack and moved on to Samuel.
    “Who is this?”
    “His name is Samuel, my lord,” replied Morghan, who had entered the tent to join the rest of the advisors.
    “I don’t care about his name. What is he doing here? Why am I looking at him?”
    “We have reason to believe he is not part of your army and infiltrated the camp a few days ago.”
    “A Saxon spy?” asked Vortigern.
    “Maybe,” replied Morghan. “But I think there is something more to it. This boy somehow managed to get himself into the group sent to fetch Myrddin. I believe there was a reason behind it, and I would like to find out what it is.”
    Vortigern approached Samuel and stared into his eyes, trying to read his soul and discover anything that would indicate who this young man was. The boy felt quite nervous all of a sudden, as if evil itself were taking a macabre interest in his little being.
    “I think you’re being paranoid, Morghan,” the king said finally. “He doesn’t look like much to me. What we have here is most likely a case of someone being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
    “He is my cousin,” Ambrosius suddenly proclaimed. Samuel was as surprised as Vortigern to hear the allegation. For a second, he wondered why Ambrosius had said such a thing, but then realized that the older man might have just saved his life. Vortigern was two words away from dispatching Samuel. Guards would have taken him away from Myrddin and probably killed him shortly after. Why would Vortigern bother to figure out if Morghan’s theory had any weight, when he could simply eliminate the young man with ease and be done with it? Now that Ambrosius had given some importance to the