"We wouldn't have been humiliated this way, if our Lord had lived", was what I heard as I entered the main hall.

Sight was at the center of it all and by the looks of it, he'd offended the party without even realizing it. I regretted leaving him alone. Still, I wondered, what he could have said that offended them so. Sight wasn't one to provoke anyone, and he never spun any tales for this purpose. If he offended someone, it could only be because of a harsh truth.

"Eh? That doesn't change anything, knight", Sight said, casually.

"Peasant! Are you sure that's the angle you want to take with me?", Lancelot was fuming.

"Angle?"

Bedivere and I hurried to stop the squabble.

"Lancelot, this isn't the time for that", he intervened.

"If you'd heard this man's words, you wouldn't stop me", Lancelot spat, with a hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Bedivere is right. Cease this pointless squabble this instant, Lancelot. Our Lord wouldn't have it this way either", another knight stood up from his table.

With this added opposition, Lancelot left the room, disgruntled.

"Sir Tristan", Bedivere addressed the fellow who had stopped Lancelot, "What was this about?"

"Old stories, Bedivere...the good old stories", Tristan replied before sitting back and chugging a tankard of ale.

Bedivere wore a tense face. Everyone looked the same. I went up to Sight and asked him what had happened.

"Don't worry, boy, it won't affect our job here. In any case, the sword is already gone. So let's head back after breakfast tomorrow", Sight was already downing some food.

Just then, Bedivere came up to us.

"Pardon my intrusion, but I'd prefer it if you didn't speak of the late King anymore. It doesn't do anyone any good. He rests in peace and we'd like to live in peace. Please don't bring him up as long as you're here."

I suppose Sight had said something about the dead king that pissed Lancelot off. The Knights were still loyal to him even in his death. I wondered what their story was. The dead king was a tyrant, or so the story went. It was hard to believe that a man as good as Bedivere followed someone like him.

From what Chopper had told me, the dead king had replaced his brother through a conspiracy. His appointed 12 knights had been the ones that took out the 12 knights of the Beast faction. In other words, the Knights of the Round Table carried out the deed, wiping out mercenaries and the very people that were supposed to be protected by the kingdom.

I believe it was King Arthur, the last king, that killed his brother King Lot, and ordered the Knights of the Round Table to wipe out all those associated with Lot. That was about 10 years ago. Arthur died only three years later, killed in battle. But even in those short three years, he waged war like never before. Until seven years ago, Arthur died. Iris Bergmeier ended the war. And Mercae officially became a stratocracy.

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Of course, it was easy to see that there had to be more to his story than just a war crazy king. But at this point, only the Knights knew of the truth, and they seemed to have taken a vow never to reveal it. This was their way of honoring their king. I could understand why they were in hiding now.

In a way, it was better that the sword was no longer here. I doubt it would have been easy to take Excalibur from off of the Knights. And I'd rather not have to go against them.

"So, who killed King Arthur?", I asked, almost without thinking.

"Eh?"

Certainly not the right question after he just asked us to avoid mentioning him. And the fact that it came from me and not Sight must have been even more troubling. Sight suppressed a chuckle, quite visibly. I too was shocked at my tenacity to create this awkward a situation, and Bedivere certainly didn't look pleased. It did look like, after all, that I was poking fun at him.

"You don't...have to answer that, of course", I made a futile attempt to cover that up.

"I see", Bedivere said in a strict manner, "Then as you said, I won't answer that. In any case, try to limit the trouble you cause here."

Saying so, Bedivere left to find Lancelot. A few others left too. I sat down beside Sight, silently.

Sight chuckled, "You say some funny stuff sometimes, boy."

"That's the last thing I want to hear from you Sight."

Sight and I chatted for a while before Tristan brought us some ale and sat down with us.

"Shouldn't have asked it, then even if you wanted to know", he said, "The Knights don't take it lightly, you see."

"And what about you, Sir Tristan?", I asked, seeing as he wasn't glaring at me like the others.

"Well, I can understand where you're coming from. And drop the Sir, it has no meaning anymore. Bedivere only calls me that out of respect. But I'm old now, things like that seldom matter to me."

"Is that so?", I said, uninterestedly.

"You wanted to hear about how King Arthur died, didn't you? Although, you could say, he died just the way kings die. Nothing is beyond them, after all."

I wonder if Tristan liked speaking like that. Then again, he did say he was old, although he didn't appear that old to me.

"So then, are you going to tell me or...?"

"Ah, well, its alright if I tell you. The others will come around to the idea eventually. We did call you for help, so this is the least I can do in return. You see, King Arthur wasn't killed. He chose to die. And by the hands of his own nephew, Lot's son, Mordred. At least, this is what we all want to believe. But I'm sure Merlin knew the truth."

"Merlin?"

"Yeah. He wasn't a knight. And he knew that a knight's pride is his undoing. We all lost the day we let King Arthur die. Merlin was the only one who accepted that fact. He was the wisest. But the rest of us opposed reality. And that is the sole reason we're wandering in the middle of nowhere now. When we found that girl carrying the Excalibur, we knew instantly what had happened. I'm glad that accursed thing is gone now. Whoever's anger it was carrying with it is now gone. No matter how much harm it ended up causing, we've weathered the storm."

Tristan didn't sound like a knight at all. He sounded drunk, to put it bluntly. But at the same time, I could tell this is what he really felt from the bottom of his heart.

"And this Mordred?"

"He died. If he had lived, the monarchy would have survived. But they all died, Arthur...and that Guinevere too. It was her own fault. And they had no children either. 'As long as this country is strife with war, my child will not open his eyes in this world'...is what King Arthur used to say. I'm sure he considered the possibility of dying before the war was over, but he simply didn't care about the monarchy. If it ended, so what? People would just find another way to live."

I wasn't sure how much of that was Tristan and how much was King Arthur. But something told me that now that Tristan was this drunk, it wasn't going to do much good by asking him anymore. Sight was sleepy by now. And bored too. So he decided to leave and find a place to sleep. It wasn't that dark yet. But I supposed we might as well catch some sleep while we could.

And I'm glad we did so. The next morning, it was hard to recognize that place from what we'd seen just one day ago.