Read Online The Return of Sir Percival by S. Alexander O'Keefe - Free Book Online

“On to Viroconium, and after that … we shall see your home. Tell me of that place. I would know where we shall live out our days in peace, or so you say.”
    â€œI have already spoken of this as well,” Percival said, leaning back against the tower wall and closing his eyes.
    Capussa made a gesture with his hand, waving off Percival’s objection.
    â€œSo speak of it again. The night is long, and I have only my blanket and a patch of grass to look forward to.”
    Percival raised his hands in mock surrender. “As you wish. There is little enough to tell. Where would you have me start?”
    â€œFrom the beginning,” Capussa said, folding his arms over his chest. “How else would you tell a tale?”
    â€œSo be it,” Percival said and picked up the stick he’d dropped on the ground a moment earlier. He tapped one of the circles on the map. “This is Londinium.”
    Then he drew another line to a spot on the edge of the shape, to the north. “The lands of my family are here, ten to twelve days’ ride north of the city along the coast. The land and the castle were originally a Roman signal post. When the last Roman commander departed, he awarded the post to the senior centurion, a native-born soldier who’d faithfully served the empire—my distant forbear.”
    Capussa nodded. “And the surrounding country? What of that?”
    â€œThe castle is located on the point of a headlands. It is surrounded on three sides by the sea. A town of a thousand souls lies just to the south. Beyond that is virgin forest, with an abundance of wildlife. My father and I spent many a day riding and hunting there,” Percival said as he tapped the spot on the map with the stick.
    â€œSo how did you come to join this Table that you speak of?”
    Percival sighed, “I have—”
    â€œSpoken of this before,” Capussa finished. “So you have, but that was when we were prisoners of that foul creature Khalid El-Hashem. Now that we are free men, and you are in your homeland, your memory will be clear and the story will be so much better.”
    Percival slowly shook his head and leaned back against the tower wall. “Very well, my inquisitive friend. When I was a boy, my home was a peaceful and prosperous place. Sometimes, pirates and the wilder inland clans would raid our lands, but my father and his liegemen, supported by the men in the town, were always able to repel them. All of that changed in my fourteenth year.”
    Percival was quiet for a moment. Then he stood up and walked over to the edge of the cistern, picked up a branch, and dropped it into the fire, raising a small cloud of sparks.
    â€œThat was the year the Norsemen began to raid in their dragonships, in force. At first the raids were small, and the raiders only came once or twice a summer. Four or five ships would come ashore at dawn, and the raiders would seize as many young women and men as they could before we counterattacked. Slaves are the Norsemen’s gold, although they will gladly take the real thing if they can find it. Over time, the raids grew more frequent and the number of ships more numerous. In my fifteenth summer, it seemed as if my sword was only sheathed long enough to bury the dead.”
    After a long silence, Percival glanced back at Capussa and said wryly, “I’m waiting for the ‘and then.’”
    â€œAnd then?” Capussa asked obligingly.
    â€œAnd then … I remembered something my grandfather had told me. He said that the Roman coastal forts to the south had used a string of signal towers to alert them to the coming of seaborne attacks by the Saxons. I convinced my father we could do the same thing. That winter, my sixteenth year, we built wooden watchtowers on every hill along the coast for three leagues on either side of the town. Then we assembled a force of men to stand ready at all times to take the field against the