“You see,” said Jack, explaining, “I hated my given name, so my brother began calling me—” “Or you,” said Ordo Maas. He was looking at Bug. “But,” the young man said, stammering, “I’ve always been called Bug. That’s what the Morgaine named me….” “No,” Ordo Maas corrected. “That’s what the Morgaine called you. You were named before you came to them.” “How do you know that?” “Because,” said Ordo Maas, “this is not the first time you have taken shelter on my island.” “A number of years ago—almost twenty, in fact—my sons were fishing in the southerly waters and came across a small, badly battered boat. In it was a young woman, who was barely older than a child herself. “Her name was unknown to me, but I knew she was the old King’s youngest daughter, and the only one to escape the slaughter at Paralon. She had been at sea for many days and barely clung to life—and when we removed the blanket that was covering her, we discovered why. “Nursing at her breast, given life by the last few drops of milk her thirst-ravaged body could provide, was a child—an infant boy. And as we lifted him from her arms, the last spark faded from her eyes and she died, having held on to the last, so her son would survive. “We buried her here, atop the island, and then turned our attentions to the child. There was no family left to claim him, and all that remained to him of his heritage was the medallion he wore around his neck. It read ‘Artus.’” “What did you do with him?” Charles asked, looking around at Ordo Maas’s sons. “Oh, I couldn’t care for him here,” said Ordo Maas. “Perhaps in years past, when the mother of my children was still here…But alas, I am too old, and my sons have too much work to also add the duties of caring for and raising a small child to manhood. “No, I decided the upbringing of the last heir to the Silver Throne required a more…maternal touch. So I took him to someone who could provide that for him. To three someones, to be exact. “It was someone I knew from your world, who had a spiritual connection to both—called by some the Three Who Are One. I knew her—them—as the Pandora.” It was John who made the connection first. “The Morgaine. You took the child to the Morgaine.” Ordo Maas nodded. “Yes. I suggested that they call him Artus—after all, it was the child’s true name. Two agreed with me, but the third wouldn’t hear of it.” “Probably Cul,” Charles said to Bert. “Very disagreeable, that one.” “She said the child was too small for a proper name like Artus,” said Ordo Maas, “so she suggested they just call him Bug.” “Hey,” said Bug. “That’s my name.” The companions turned and looked at their stowaway in stunned silence. “I don’t believe it for a second,” said Jack. “You’re telling me that this potboy is the heir to the Throne of Paralon?” “Jack,” said Charles. “No need to be mean.” “I’m a squire now,” said Bug, “not a potboy.” “Hah!” said Jack. “A squire to whom? To him? He’s not even a real knight.” “Don’t bring me into this,” said John. “Hang on,” said Charles. “Bug—ah, Artus—can what he’s saying be true?” Artus shrugged. “I don’t know. The Morgaine never said anything about it to me. But the Green Knight said once that I had a great destiny—I always thought he meant that I might someday be a knight.” “Greater than that, lad,” said Bert. “You are descended from the blood of Arthur himself—making you the true king of the Archipelago.” With that, he bowed deeply, followed in turn by John and Charles. Aven hesitated slightly before bowing herself, but Jack and Magwich refused to do it at all and watched the scene with bewilderment. “See?” Ordo Maas whispered to Artus. “Once they get started with this sort of thing, they want to just keep doing it.” “Get up, please,” said Artus. “I don’t think I like you bowing to me—even if I am the heir, I’m not a king. Not yet.” He thought a moment, then turned to the old shipbuilder. “That means my grandfather was the king who killed my family. And he would have killed me, too, if he’d been able.” “Yes.” “That makes you very powerful,” said Aven. “If an heir is alive to sit on the Silver Throne, then the Winter King is no longer a threat. We have the Geographica, a descendant of Arthur, and the Ring of Power. He’s lost, plain and simple.” “That’s right,” said John. “I’d forgotten about the ring. Do you still have it, Jack?” Reluctantly, Jack took the ring from his pocket and proffered it to a hesitant Artus, who finally took it and placed it on his finger. “Hey,” he said brightly. “It fits.” “There is one more thing to consider,” said Ordo Maas. “Having a king, and the trappings of the office, may not be enough to overcome the Winter King. He still possesses a talisman that may yet turn the events in the Archipelago in his favor. And despite all you have done, it is a power you may be unable to defeat.” “What talisman?” said Bert. “He’s searching for the Geographica, which we have, in order to find the ring, which we also have. How can he possibly be a threat now?” “He murdered a king before,” said Seti, the eldest of Ordo Maas’s sons. “He can do so again.” “Yes,” said another of the sons, called Amun. “And in the years since, he has amassed great power, conquering many lands without the ring or the Imaginarium Geographica to help him.” “That’s right,” John said, crestfallen. “I’d forgotten. He’s taken over the Shadowed Lands without being able to control the dragons. At best, we haven’t stopped him—we’ll just be keeping him from making things worse.” “How has he done it?” said Jack. “Where does his power come from?” “He has found a way to harness the evil within men,” Ordo Maas said. “You have seen them with him on the Black Dragon. He calls them Shadow-Born.” “What do you know of the old king, Archibald?” asked Ordo Maas. “Of his rule, and his decline?”
“We know he turned evil,” said John, “and murdered his family.”
“Essentially,” replied Ordo Maas, “but that is not the whole of the story.
“Archibald ruled over the Archipelago during a very tumultuous time in your world. There had been several great conflicts there, and that upset the balance here. For the first time in a number of generations, there was unrest in the Archipelago, and Archibald was bearing the brunt of it.
“He had the best of intentions, right before the fall—but intentions cannot pay the price for the actions that follow. Several times he called upon his allies from the Four Races, and more than once on the dragons themselves, to maintain peace. But Archibald was always seeking after a way to make the peace permanent. He wished for a more compelling force with which to rule his subjects. And then finally, after many years of searching, he found one.
“He discovered a record of an ancient mythical object that could draw out the spirits from living men, leaving them as stone, trapped in a living death.
“Worse, their spirits—their Shadows—would then be compelled to his service. With enough of them, he could create a deathless army that no force on Earth could defeat.”
