When the sky turns red

[bhaltair]

She had promised him blood. The blood of the man who had killed his family. He had only been a young boy when they were taken away from him. If it hadn’t been for her he would have died in the forest. They had given him something worth living for, and a way to get what he wanted. But it was no an easy road. He had just been a simple farmer’s son, so he had never used a sword before nor did he have any fighting skills what so ever. It took a lot of him, but then more he pushed him, his anger fuelling him. It had been his anger and hate that had made him into the killer he was now. He had no human soul left, just a blacken heart who didn’t care about anything or anyone. Yes he had changed over the years, from the fun loving farm boy to the ruthless killer. Bhaltair knew no other life now; all thoughts about the past were gone because when ever he thought about the past he thought about the man who killed his family, the image of seeing his brother and father burn to death in the fire.

It had scared him for life; it shaped him into the Blood Guard he was now. Now the only thing he had worth living for was serving and protecting his high priestess and the other priestess. No harm would come to them that’s for sure he would make sure of that. They had been moving around from one place to another, there were not much of them left, the Blood Guard that was. Most of them had been wiped out long ago, and many went in hiding tell the time was right and someone would bring them back. This had been the case when Morgause had come and brought them all back together, she had promised them everything they wanted and Bhaltair couldn’t wait to get what he wanted.

He was walking back to the make shift camp they had now, as they were planning their next move on Camelot. He had been out looking for food when he had come upon an unlucky traveler who had come to close for his liking. He smirked at the thought of his sword pushing into the man’s body. After he was finished he had dumped the body by the river and was now heading back with game in his hand. When he got to the camp he handed the game for to another Blood Guard as he went to river inside the camp to wash the blood from his hand. How it looked so sweet dripping from his hand, how it shined in the sun. He wondered if Uther Pendragons blood would look as sweet when he had it pouring on his hands. But did Bhaltair want him to end this why, or did he want the fun of putting his hands around his neck and slowly watching the life leave his eyes. Hmm oh the many thoughts about how he could kill him, and soon very soon he could do what he had been training for many years.

Setting; In the one year gap between season 2 and season 3
Tag; Morgana

[mysery]

"It is so much easier to tell the character of a person by the blood on their hands," Morgana commented idly, watching as the man before her washed his hands while she leaned around a tree. She wasn't one for spying on people, and she hadn't been exactly spying. She had taken a walk to clear her head, and the trickling of the water had been strangely soothing. So, she'd taken a seat beside one of the bigger trees that lined the banks and let her mind wander. Then she'd heard someone splashing with the water nearby and she'd looked around to investigate.

Blood hadn't been an uncommon occurrance in the last few months of her life.

She'd seen plenty of people cut down. Those who pried when they shouldn't, those who didn't know how to take a hint and, of course, any of the Camelot patrols that got a little too close for comfort to them all. Now Morgana knew precisely how it felt to be hunted. "It's just a pity the blood washes off so easily," she added, realising she'd stopped mid-sentence. And she meant her words. It would be easy to tell what someone was like by the blood on their hands. A man who wore it shamelessly wasn't neccessarily evil. And a man who had clean hands wasn't necessarily innocent. Uther Pendragon being a prime example.

His hands were clean, washed everyday and perfect. The hands of a King. But he was a ruthless killer who slaughtered old and young alike because of his own fanatical obsession with driving out magic. And that was all it was. Reason had long fled Uther's mind when it came to magic, she understood now. Which was why she and Morgause would do everything in their power to destroy him.

And the guards, the men who had sworn fealty to her sister as a priestess and protected them both had more honour in their little fingers.

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Setting: The Forests of Albion

Tag: Bhaltair Donovan

Timeline: Between Series 2 & 3

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[bhaltair]

He had heard a voice behind him, his eye quickly looked down at the sword at his side and then back up to the person the voice had come from. He knew who she was as there was no reason for him to be worried around her. Every new camp they made the Blood Guards had to watch everyone to come close to their camp or the people that were brought into it. Some people could not be trusted, but he knew the women he was watching now could be trust, as his priestess had told him so. “I have to agree with you, my lady”. He said bowing his head as he finished up washing his hands. It wasn’t the first time Bhaltair had washed the blood off his hand, ever since he was that scared and heartbroken little boy his hands hand always been blood soaked. And when the time was right he would have Uther Pendragons blood on his hands.

“A man should be honoured by the blood on his hands, not hide it in shame and mask who he really is”

The so called King of Camelot was the meaning behind these words. He went on living each day like he hadn’t done anything. That his hands were clean when they were in fact soaked with the blood of many he had killed, but no one ever knew it because the man masked it and thought it not true. Everyone loved the man, if only they knew the type of man their King was, now he had killed many people who should have not been killed simple men who did their work and tried to feed their family. Women and children. Uther didn’t care who you were, if you used magic or was thought to use it then you were killed without any thought.

“It may wash off, but it still lingers burning away at your soul”. Uther might be able to be the innocent King who was just helping his kingdom, but to everyone he has hurt it will stay with him for the rest of his life, burned deep in his soul. “You must be the Lady Morgana, the priestess talks so much about”. Ever since Bhaltair and the other Blood guards that were left were brought back together by Morgause, all she had talked about was a girl trapped in the hands of Uther and how when she finally came here, we were to protect her the same as we would the priestess. So they had done so, taking out anyone who got to close, the Camelot patrols who made it far into the woods were no one would hear their screams or the snapping of their necks, he smirked at these thoughts but turned back to the lady and waited for her answer. Soon everything would become, he just wished there was some way of bring back the person that mattered the most to the Blood Guards, their High priestess.