Rex's Epic Odyssey

I remember the day I got my first sword.

It was a beautiful little thing, forged by one of the best smiths in all of England. I remember calling it my ‘letter opener’. My father used to call me into his study every now and again for some lessons. He’d always talked about how important it was to be strong, to be able to protect your family. So that day, when he walked in with a sword, I just about jumped out of my skin. It was beautiful, though. More so than anything I had ever seen before. And he gave it to me! All mine! He told me how proud he was of me, that one day I would do great things with this sword–that I would defend our people and make our country a better place.

Little did my father know that his son would grow up to be just as stubborn as himself. After a while, I grew tired of our lessons. There were so many other things I wanted to do, so many other things I wanted to learn! And besides, why couldn’t we all just live in harmony together? Why did they have to fight? We didn’t have any enemies; there wasn’t anything wrong. But then Father sent me away to school, and I learned the truth: the Saxons had been attacking for years. They were savages; savages who would pillage and plunder if we let them get too close.

So that day, when my father came home from war with a letter from King Arthur, asking him and his men for help in defending against an enemy army at Dover, my father hesitated only briefly before taking his sword from its mantlepiece and heading off after him. An army of Saxons was marching towards Dover, led by a group of vicious invaders called the Jute. If we didn’t stop them now, they could destroy everything we’d worked so hard for!

But Father never returned from battle. The Saxon army fought fiercely and killed many brave soldiers on both sides before finally being driven back over the borders by the combined forces of several small kingdoms under King Arthur’s banner once again. And yet…yet none of us saw my father amongst them. No one knew where he had gone or what had happened to him, but most assumed he must have died in combat somewhere along the borderlands between Mercia and Wessex. My mother took it hard–harder than anyone thought she would–but she still kept up appearances and kept her chin held high when we went out in public together. She had always looked up to Father; she had always been weaker than him in every way that mattered: physically, mentally…and perhaps spiritually too?

Father had never liked my mother very much; he once told me that she wasn’t fit to be queen. Yet nevertheless…when news reached us that King Arthur had died during one of his many battles against the Saxons–in this case against King Aelle of Northumberland–Mother didn’t hesitate for even a moment before sending out messengers across the land announcing her intentions to claim what was rightfully hers by right of God Himself: The Crown of England itself! This was her chance…her chance to show everyone how strong she was! Her chance to prove that she could lead our people into glory like her husband would have done!

I remember being confused by Mother’s decision at the time; why not just wait until Father came back? After all, he would do it for her…he knew how much this meant to her more than anyone else did! But no matter how often I asked her about it…no matter how often I begged her not leave me alone…she refused to listen: “You needn’t worry about anything anymore, Rex; you will have more responsibility than you ever dreamed possible soon enough! You are going with me on this journey…you are going to help me claim what is mine! You will see your father again soon enough!”

She made good on those promises too: within days of receiving word of King Arthur’s death, we were well on our way northwards towards London as members of King Aelle’s court–myself included as one among Mother’s ladies-in-waiting–to begin preparations for her coronation ceremony as soon as possible while our new king dealt with pressing matters elsewhere throughout his kingdom…for indeed Aelle was not just king over Northumbria; he was king over all England now too!

And so began our many adventures together: Mother and myself traveling northwards above ground with dozens upon dozens of retainers and supporters alike whilst below ground hundreds upon hundreds more worked tirelessly night and day carving out tunnels underneath the newly acquired lands for miles around London itself so that Queen Morgause could reach Westminster Abbey without delay or hindrance from any foe she might encounter along the way whatsoever! After all…how could anyone possibly stop us?! How could anyone possibly stop a woman who had managed to bring an entire nation together beneath a single banner?! How could anyone possibly stop us now?! Not even King Aelle himself could stand against the momentum behind us now–not even he!