An excerpt from the personal diary of Brother Timothy

Saint Augustine's Abbey

Cyninges Cent

2nd June

In the Year of Our Lord

Six hundred and nineteen

...and being that I am now an old man I turn to my small desk in my small cell to write what I know before I am taken to Heaven by Christ Jesus our Lord. I do not know who, if anyone, will read what I have written. So much of what has been written has been lost, or destroyed, by those who did not know the value of what they held.

I want to tell the story of my parents, but that is a task for a later time. Instead of their story, I want to tell a story that my parents told me, of things that they saw when they lived, in the land of Camlann in the far west of this Isle.

There was a king in that land who became the High King, who ruled over all other kings, and lords, and chieftains. His father was one of those Britons that also is of Roman blood, and his name was Constantine, and he named his sons Aurelius and Uther. And because Aurelius was born first, and Constantine was a Roman at heart, shunning and ashamed of his British mother and all her kin, he favored his son Aurelius. But Uther was named as a Briton because of the insistence of his British mother Bronwen, she of fairest hair and lovely countenance.

Constantine would have little to do with Uther, for his days were spent with Aurelius, who learned to speak Latin the language of the Romans, and who was trained in the ways of battle and kingship from the time when he was very young.

So Uther was left to spend his childhood with his mother Bronwen, and she found for him a druid to teach him in secret, for Constantine forbade the existence of all druids and all of their practices and ways. And the druid was named Emrys.

Uther grew in learning and in stature and by the age of seventeen was a head taller than Aurelius. Uther would practice swords with Aurelius with wooden sticks, and Aurelius would strike in vain against Uther's chest which was like in size to a large barrel. And when Aurelius grew tired, Uther would push him to the ground after breaking his poise, and stand over his brother, great head shaking back and forth in victory. It was said by those who saw this that Aurelius seethed over his humiliation.

But, like my parents, the tale of Uther I shall postpone to a later time, for it is a long and winding one, and deserves its own telling.

One last thing shall I say about Uther: he was deeply in love with the lady Igraine of Cornwall the wife of the duke Gorlois. Despite Uther's advances, Igraine refused. And so Uther, in his sinful ways and enslaved to his lust, sought the counsel of the wizard named Merlin, cursed be his name. For Merlin worked a spell, which was from the Devil as are all spells, and made Uther into the appearance of Gorlois as demons and the Devil himself will sometimes disguise themselves and walk the earth to seek the ruin of souls.

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Uther entered the castle and lay with Igraine, and on this same night Gorlois was killed in battle with tribes from the northern reaches and from Ireland. And from this union was born the child Arthur who was conceived in darkness and sin at the great castle of Tintagel that for many centuries sat on the high mountain overlooking the western sea.

And Arthur was taken by the wizard Merlin and hidden away, until he became of age. Arthur accomplished many great deeds both before and after he became king, and he was king first and then High King like his father. But I do not wish to write of these years now.

I know not when my ink will run out, or my parchment, or for that matter, the days of my life. So I will start at the end of Arthur's tale to ensure it at least can be passed down to younger generations, if anyone finds this book after my death and is able to read it.

Arthur like his father was given over to sin and lust, and one night after becoming drunk with wine, he was bewitched and made to commit a great sin with his sister Anna, and from that sin was conceived a child. Anna was sorely grieved and hid herself away, and took only her most trusted ladies into her confidence. And in due time was born the child Mordred who would become first Arthur's blessing and then at the last, his doom.

Mordred learned the truth of his birth when he was still a very young man, and from this knowledge he grew to hate Arthur, whom he knew as uncle but was in truth his father. And so in the year of our Lord 535, Prince Mordred rebelled against his father, taking the alliance of many northern British tribes and convincing the Saxons in the east to raise their banners for him. Two years of rebellion and war he waged and his anger was a sore and terrible thing to behold, for in each battle he sought his father, and found him not.

Until the day of the last battle, the month and day of which is not known, except that it was in the late spring in the year of our Lord 537. And on this day was the Battle of Camlann fought, that brought an end to Mordred's rebellion, but the price that was paid split Camlann into many broken and lost pieces, many of which could never be found nor brought back to the state of peace and justice that King Arthur had made. For Mordred on this day found his father on the battlefield and raged at him with fearsome hatred until he wounded his father gravely in the side. And Arthur, as he reeled from the wound, fell upon his back and laid to wait for the final blow from his son.

But Mordred was lame of foot and as he approached his father to kill him he fell forward in his haste, and Arthur held up his sword in a state of blindness from the pain of his wound, and so Mordred fell onto the blade of the sword Excalibur and was slain by it.

There came to be a tale that was told after Arthur died, which I cannot in good faith believe or encourage others to believe. For it was said that the witches Morgan le Fay and Nimue of the black hair and pale face, may they both be cursed as daughters of the Devil, came to Arthur as he lay dying; and Nimue called upon the Devil to make an unholy door which Morgan carried Arthur through.

I do not know what happened to Arthur's body, but I think it was taken by his enemies and desecrated or perhaps he lay there in the mud unnoticed for many days as the ravens made a feast of him. But there are many who do not believe in the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ who tell another story to praise the witches named Morgan le Fay and Nimue who called upon the power of the Devil, and they say that Arthur did not die but lays sleeping in some other far place to return to us when our need for him is greatest.