Arthur of the Britons (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
arthur_of_the_britons) wrote1972-11-06 08:00 am
arthur_of_the_britons) wrote1972-11-06 08:00 am
Entry tags:
Episode transcript: The Games
Episode 2.10: The Games
Writer: David Osborne
OPENING SCENE
Mark of Cornwall’s village. Mark wrestles a villager, and throws him to the ground, twice, in quick succession. While another opponent is limbering up, Mark goes to get a drink. Herrick comes to stand at Mark’s shoulder.
Herrick: There will be eating, I hear. Feasting and drinking, beside the gaming and the sport.
Mark: Well, perhaps Arthur thinks Mark and his Cornishmen prefer meat and ale, to going home champions!
He puts down his beaker, slaps Herrick on the back, approaches his next opponent, and claps his hands in invitation.
Mark: Come!
They wrestle. Herrick approaches.
Herrick: It isn’t only your athletes he’s out to beat, you know. It’s you. Hold games, invite the chieftains and kings to celebrate his special alliance.
Mark grunts, and heaves his opponent onto his shoulders.
Herrick: And then, with all his new Celtic alliances sealed – what of you?
Mark pauses, then drops the man to the ground.
Mark: What of me, Herrick?
Herrick: Haa, you will win your wrestling match when Arthur’s Games convene. But what will you lose?
Mark: You, I suspect, are about to tell me.
Mark sits on a bench, and dries his hands with a cloth. Herrick puts one foot on the bench, and leans close to Mark.
Herrick: Who is the most powerful king in The West?
Mark looks up enquiringly.
Herrick: You.
Mark: Yeah.
Herrick: But let there be an alliance sealed between all the other chiefs and kings, and they together, will be stronger than you.
Mark: You forget – I am part of that alliance.
Herrick: If you behave yourself, and do not cross Arthur.
Mark hands Herrick a drink.
Herrick: Argue with him, and break away, and you will find yourself facing a far greater army than you can raise - with Arthur at its head.
Mark: [thoughtfully] The alliance is, in itself, a good thing - you’d agree, Herrick? To join forces against our common enemy the Saxons must be a sensible plan. But perhaps we are not quite ready for it – just yet.
They grin conspiratorially, and clink their mugs together.
[OPENING CREDITS]
PART 1
In Arthur’s village. Preparations for the Games are underway. Arthur and Llud come out of the longhouse, and inspect a map on which a villager is working.
Arthur: A line to mark the jumping-off place is no good. [He points at the place on the map.] Two or three contestants, it’ll disappear – there’ll be arguments.
Arthur glances at Llud; the villager nods.
Arthur: Sink in a narrow log instead, here.
Arthur points at the spot with his knife.
Llud: [Thoughtful] Yes … And we’ll mark the distances with a pole, not a rope.
The villager nods.
Mark, Herrick, and three other Cornishmen ride into the village.
Mark: Arthur! Llud!
They go to meet him.
Llud: Welcome, Mark!
Llud clasps Mark’s hand.
Mark: Thank you! Hey – you’re not entering the hand-to-hand combat with the advantage of that iron paw!
Llud: No, I’m disqualified from those contests. And count yourself lucky, because without this –
Llud thumps Mark’s thigh with his iron hand; Mark winces.
Llud: – silver hand, you might as well go home, for all the contests you could win.
All laugh.
Mark: And you, Arthur – are you going to give me the pleasure of rubbing your nose in the dust, in the wrestling?
Arthur: I prefer the more skilful competitions. Will you be riding?
Mark: Neargh … games for women and children. If you decide to join the men – [Mark puffs out his chest.] you’ll know where to find me.
The Cornish visitors ride on into the village.
Llud: [to Arthur] One contest he must win.
Arthur: The wrestling.
Llud: Perhaps. But no-one can touch him at the singing.
Arthur looks puzzled.
Arthur: Singing?
Llud: Yes – his own praises!
Both laugh.
Meanwhile Mark notices Yorath and the Jutish party approaching, and rides to another other entrance to meet them.
Mark: There … big fat Yorath himself! I didn’t know that you had another daughter. She bears a remarkable resemblance to Rowena.
Glancing back at his party - which consists of his champion wrestler, another man, and Rowena - Yorath looks irritated. Mark gasps, and palms his forehead theatrically.
Mark: My humblest apologies. This must be Trederne, your champion wrestler! [Mark laughs hugely.] Save yourself the embarrassment, Yorath. Send him back to play … with the children.
As Mark rides off, Yorath looks furious, and briefly makes as if to follow him.
Rowena: Father!
A short distance away, Mark dismounts beside Herrick.
Herrick: Yorath is easily baited. If Arthur and his followers would rise as easily, our task is simple.
Mark backhands Herrick on the chest.
Mark: They will, they will.
Mark and Herrick go off together. Kai can be seen in a nearby hut, from which he has overheard them.
In the longhouse. Arthur is sitting on the table; Kai and Llud are standing either side of it, further back. Llud walks forward.
Llud: If what Kai says is true, Arthur – you can call it a … an old hunter’s instinct, here [Llud taps his nose] if you like – Mark doesn’t care if Herrick exists or not. They’re the elephant and the flea.
Llud comes back to Arthur, and puts a hand on his arm.
Llud: But if with a few flea-bites, Mark could be persuaded that the Games and what they stand for are a threat to him …
Arthur: And Herrick? What does he stand to gain?
Kai: As you say yourself, he bears no love for you.
Arthur: I would dismiss it, but for Llud’s nose. When that twitches, there’s trouble ahead.
Llud and Kai laugh. Arthur gets up, ready for action.
Dusk. Arthur and Rowena are walking on the bridge. They stop to lean on the rail.
Rowena: Shouldn’t you be going to bed early tonight?
Arthur: [feigning distraction] Hm?
Rowena: The Games tomorrow.
Arthur: Sleep will not come to a man whose thoughts are as troubled as mine. [He turns to look at her.] Thoughts of you.
Rowena: Thoughts of me?
Arthur: Thoughts of you … [He kisses her.] … and of how you could help me … [He kisses her again.] … and of the valuable information you could discover for me …
He kisses her again.
Rowena: Information?
Arthur: [whispers] It’s a simple task. All you must do is –
Rowena: [angry] Task!
Arthur: Someone is planning to disrupt the Games.
Rowena: [most offended] I might have guessed!
Rowena gives Arthur a shove.
Arthur: Mark and Herrick - they’re plotting something.
Rowena: I hope it’s to break your neck!
She stomps off. Arthur gives a wry smile.
In the longhouse. Yorath and some other visiting chiefs, along with Trederne, are sitting around a low table, gambling and drinking. Yorath throws the dice. Everyone else guffaws. Yorath has lost again.
Yorath: By the gods, if these dice are falling true, then there must be a curse on them!
He passes the dice to Trederne, who shakes them.
Erwith: Probably the gods are punishing you for your sins!
Fenred: Like stealing that stallion of mine.
Everyone goes quiet.
Yorath: What d’you mean by stealing? I borrowed him.
Fenred: You stole him.
Yorath gets to his feet.
Yorath: I borrowed him to breed with one of my mares. I gave him back, didn’t I?
Fenred also stands.
Fenred: After I brought my army to the very gates of your village!
Yorath: Why, you –
Erwith gets between them, and slams a jug down on the table.
Erwith: It’s forgotten!
There is a moment of silence, then Yorath and Fenred clasp each other’s forearms.
Yorath: It is forgotten.
Trederne: It’s forgotten – Let’s play.
He rolls the dice. They all guffaw again. Rowena sweeps in.
Yorath: You see? You see? It happened only once!
Rowena whispers in Yorath’s ear.
Yorath: What?
Rowena beckons him away from the game.
Yorath: Yes, but –
Yorath gestures at the table.
Yorath: Neargh!
He gets up and goes over to Rowena.
Yorath: Well?
Rowena: I want to go home.
Yorath: Home?
Rowena: I have been insulted.
Yorath: By whom? Oh no. Don’t tell me. Arthur, hm? You’ve had one of your usual stupid quarrels, and for that you disturb my game.
Rowena: If you don’t take me, I’ll ask Trederne.
Yorath: You’ll do no such thing! He’s my champion wrestler! Alright. What has he done this time?
Rowena: He wants me to spy for him, on Mark of Cornwall and Herrick.
Yorath: Tcha! And why not?
Rowena: [indignantly] Why not? You’re as bad as he is! Am I Arthur’s slave, to be ordered to do this or that whenever he snaps his fingers? To hell with his alliance. And his stupid games.
Yorath: Listen Rowena. Tonight we drink, and cast dice. Not long ago, it was a different sort of game. It was the ring of swords and the screaming of men dying. War and armies, year in, year out. If Mark and Herrick – that toad – if they’re up to no good, and you can flush them out, you’re doing all of us a service. Not just Arthur – all of us. Eh?
Rowena looks thoughtful.
It is morning. Mark is sitting outside by a fire, eating some meat off a bone. Rowena approaches him.
Mark: I suppose you’ve come to plead for that girl-child, Trederne – to beg for his cracked ribs?
He snaps the bone.
Rowena: I came to beg for myself.
Mark goes on eating in a deliberately uncouth manner, spitting out a mouthful of food. Rowena comes closer.
Rowena: I want to help.
Mark: Help? Help with what? [He belches, then grins.] For whom?
Rowena: Help you. Help against Arthur.
Mark: Arthur? Huh! What’s he done? Or is it more what he hasn’t done?
Mark laughs heartily. Rowena purses her lips.
Rowena: If there’s a knife to be thrust, let me thrust it. Let me be the first.
Mark draws a dagger.
Mark: Here’s a knife. And there’s Arthur!
He gives a quick glance over her shoulder, and throws the knife. Rowena turns with a gasp, and sees the knife skewer a hanging water-skin. She turns back, trying to hide her relief.
Mark: Is that what you want?
Rowena lowers her gaze.
Rowena: [very quietly] No.
Mark: [mockingly] Neah … Neah … Just like a woman. [He glares at her.] No action, and all talk.
He gets up and goes and dunks his head in the water trough, then shakes the water from his hair. Rowena spits on the ground. Mark spits a mouthful of water into the air. Rowena walks off.
The same morning. A young Cornishman – Barth – is practising running by the river. As he puts his sword-belt back on, he sees Rowena’s reflection in the water, and looks up to see her standing on the far bank.
Barth: I trust I am not the cause of your unhappy face.
Rowena: Not you, but your leader Mark.
Barth: He’s a fine warrior, but not always as gentle with women as he might.
Barth sheathes his sword.
Rowena: I question his sense, not his manners.
She glances left and right, conspiratorially.
Rowena: I would help you in your plan against Arthur. But he will let me have no part in it.
Rowena and Barth are now walking together beside the river.
Barth: But Mark is right, Rowena. A woman has no place in this business.
Rowena: You talk as if I were helpless! I can ride as well as anyone. Better than you, I warrant.
Barth: What good is riding when swords are drawn? Once we have provoked Arthur, do you think your little dagger a match for his sword? Or Kai’s axe?
Rowena comes to a halt.
Rowena: Provoke? Just that? It would be easy for me.
Barth turns to face her.
Barth: But Arthur or any of his men would be chivalrous with a woman. [He grasps his sword hilt.] Not so us.
In the longhouse. Arthur, Kai and Llud sit by the fire, while Rowena stands warming her hands.
Arthur: Provoke? How?
Rowena: I’ve told you all I know. You will be pushed into losing your tempers, so it will be you who first draws the sword. The Games will be ruined, and you will be discredited.
Arthur: Along with the alliance … How did you find this out?
Rowena: You have your information.
Arthur: [quietly vehement] From whom? Mark?
Rowena: It could be …
She starts walking towards the door.
Arthur: Or was it that young warrior of Mark’s I saw you walking with?
Llud and Kai look on with wary interest.
Rowena: Perhaps.
Rowena smiles, and continues on her way.
Arthur: How?
Rowena turns, suddenly serious.
Arthur: How did you find it out? [He stalks towards her.] What did you have to do to get this information? [very loud] I demand to know!
Arthur grabs Rowena’s arm; she shrugs him off.
Rowena: Demand from your soldiers. From me, you can only ask.
Arthur: Very well. I’ll ask you. Will you tell me where you got this information?
Rowena: [mischievously] No!
She runs out.
Arthur: [shouts] Come back at once!
Arthur stalks back to the hearthside.
Llud: Perhaps it was only her quick tongue that managed to wheedle the information.
Arthur laughs.
Arthur: Certainly it was. But I couldn’t spoil her moment of triumph, could I?
Kai laughs.
[INTERVAL]
PART 2
A crowd, including Arthur, Kai, Llud, Mark and Herrick, stand around the long jump arena. A contestant takes his turn at the event. The watchers cheer. Judges come over to mark the distance.
Old man: Child’s play! Hey! In my day we leapt rivers, twice that distance, and were still on our feet at the other side, ready to cut the throats of – of brigands like him!
He points at Mark, who roars with laughter.
Mark: Come on, Grandad! You couldn’t even leap over your own left foot!
Everyone laughs. Arthur and Kai, followed by Llud, walk away from the crowd.
Kai: I wonder when the provocation will start.
Llud: Soon enough.
They go to stand near two pens, in each of which a contestant is trying to grab a piglet, and put it in a tub.
Arthur: When they do provoke us, we smile, and hold our temper even if it’s fit to burst. They will not destroy everything we’ve worked for all these years.
Kai laughs at the contestants. While each man catches his piglet and puts it into the tub, the shot-putt contest proceeds.
Kai lines up with some other young men for a foot-race. Barth is next to him.
Villager: [indistinctly] On your marks! Ready!
A red flag signals the start, and the men set off running. The crowd yells.
Llud: Kai! Come on!
At the end of the first lap, Kai is in the lead, but as they turn back, Barth appears to trip him, and he falls. He gets up and finishes the race, but can’t make up all the lost ground. Barth wins. Kai runs on past him. Mark goes up to Barth, grinning.
Mark: Well run, Barth!
Mark puts a hand on his shoulder, then gives him a tap on the ribs, and a meaningful look, warning him to be ready for trouble. Kai stalks purposefully towards them. Barth looks nervous. Kai stares at Barth for a moment, then grips his arm.
Kai: Well run, Friend. I always heard they could run like the wind in Cornwall. Now it’s proven.
Mark looks befuddled and outraged at once. Arthur, Llud and Rowena approach.
Mark: There was an incident!
Kai: Incident?
Mark shoves Kai in the chest, first with one hand, then the other.
Mark: You fouled my man. You nearly cost him the race.
Kai feigns embarrassment.
Kai: Oh, that. Huh! Clumsy oaf that I am - my deepest apologies.
Mark looks at a loss – Barth, still rather worried. Behind them, Llud smirks, and Arthur smiles.
Kai: Hey there! [He gestures to unseen servant.] Wine, for Barth of Cornwall!
Looking annoyed, Mark stalks off, taking Barth with him. Llud nods approvingly at Kai.
A man on horseback gallops down a course, leans down, picks a piece of cloth up from the ground, and holds it aloft. The crowd cheers. Next, Arthur rides towards a similar target on the ground. Herrick is seen among the watching crowd, with a Celt sidekick.
Herrick: [to Celt] Get ready …
Arthur retrieves his target, and holds it aloft. The crowd cheers.
Herrick: [to Celt] Now!
As Arthur rides past, the Celt sidekick flourishes his cloak in front of Arthur’s horse, which shies, causing Arthur to fall off. Herrick and Mark laugh. Rowena looks annoyed, Arthur, angry.
Mark: I’ve got an old donkey that I keep for packing. Perhaps you’d feel safer with him!
Arthur gets to his feet, and turns to the Celt with the cloak.
Arthur: Don’t feel badly, Friend, the air is chill, and perhaps you do not have the habit of horses.
Celt: Oh, I know horses very well.
Arthur feigns amusement.
Arthur: But not mine. [He glances pointedly over his shoulder, at Mark.] Fool beast that he is. Frightened by a simple thing like an honest fellow’s cloak.
Laughing, Arthur lays the piece of cloth he retrieved on the Celt’s shoulder, and walks away. Herrick, his Celt sidekick, and Mark, all look annoyed; Mark nudges Barth, and stalks off; Barth understandably seems disconcerted. Rowena smiles to herself.
Rubbing his neck, Arthur joins Kai, who puts an arm around his shoulders. They stand and watch Llud competing in a race.
Each of the four contestants is hauling a sled full of rocks. One of Mark’s men appears to knock Llud over; the crowd boos. Llud gets up and finishes the race, coming in third. He congratulates the winner, then approaches the man with whom he collided, and who came second.
Llud: Don’t take it too hardly, My Friend. The gods were against you.
Arthur and Kai exchange glances, smiling. Herrick looks on grimly.
Llud: I tripped and baulked you. [He slaps the man on the shoulder.] You will surely win next year.
Inside the longhouse, which has been stripped of furniture. The wrestling competition is taking place. A crowd, including Arthur, Kai, and Llud, watches as Mark, stripped to the waist, throws an opponent across the room, where the man falls to the ground.
Llud: [barely audible above the din] Well fought, Mark!
Mark spreads his arms, accepting the applause, then returns to his corner where his two seconds start rubbing him down. Herrick approaches.
Herrick: Hasn’t worked with Llud, either.
Mark: They must have found out, they were ready for us. In the hand-to-hand combat we tripped their man twice. In the tournament, we loaded our man’s stave, and let Arthur see it. He called it an ‘interesting reinforcement.’ [furious] Blast him for a fox! He’s put us down.
The crowd cheers as Yorath’s party, including the wrestler Trederne, and Rowena, arrives.
Herrick: We’re not too late. There’s still your final bout with Trederne.
Mark: [angry] So?
Herrick: A simple thing … a gouged eye, an elbow, anything to inflame that temper of Yorath’s. Yorath is laying odds on Trederne winning the wrestling. A clenched fist from you, and he will be forced to call you a cheat. His sword’ll be out before Trederne hits the ground. Arthur’ll be in there to support him. Their treaty calls for mutual defence.
Mark: [incredulous] What about my championship?
Herrick: Ah, that’ll have to wait till next year. Meantime –
Mark grabs Herrick around the neck.
Mark: [menacing whisper] Meantime, get this through your scheming head. I am the strongest man you’ll ever see. I’ve been practising for half a year so that Yorath and his champion can learn that the hard way. Smash Arthur, yes.
Herrick is going red in the face; Mark starts shaking him.
Mark: Disrupt the Games, yes. [growls] But find another way!
Mark lets go, and Herrick falls to the ground. Arthur and Kai watch with interest.
Mark: I don’t need to cheat, gouge, knee or punch anybody. [Mark puffs out his chest] I’m the greatest wrestler alive!
Trederne raises his arms; the crowd cheers. Yorath approaches one of Mark’s seconds, and taps him on the shoulder.
Yorath: You! Did you bring your broom? For afterwards, sweeping away your leader’s splintered bones, eh?
Mark: Ha! Hark the Mountain of Fat! Gyah!
Mark somersaults across the floor, picks up Trederne and executes a body-slam. The crowd yells and cheers. Yorath rushes forward.
Yorath: No! That’s not right! Stop this!
Arthur holds him back and waves a warning finger at him. Mark grins, raises his arms and turns, acknowledging the crowd. Trederne gets to his feet and puts Mark in a headlock.
Yorath: [inaudible imprecation] … Break his neck!
Trederne throws Mark. Yorath laughs. Arthur looks disapproving. Trederne strips off his shirt. Mark gets up, and they circle each other, then lock arms, trying each other’s strength. Mark throws Trederne. He gets up and they clasp each other. Mark lifts Trederne, trying for another body-slam, but falls backwards. Trederne lands on top of him, treats Mark to a forearm smash, gets up, kicks Mark in the head, and walks away. Mark gets up, lifts Trederne onto his shoulders, parades around for a few moments, taking applause from the crowd, then body-slams Trederne once more. Trederne arches, and rolls about, clearly in pain. Yorath kneels beside him, and pats his cheeks. Mark throws water in Trederne’s face. Trederne revives and scrambles up, as if to restart the fight, but Mark offers him a beaker. He takes it and drinks. Everyone cheers. Trederne and Mark embrace. Yorath looks disconcerted. Trederne walks away. Yorath points a disapproving finger at Mark.
Yorath: You took him by surp–
Yorath stops, considering, then laughs, and he and Mark clasp each other’s forearms.
Yorath: Next year, you’ll –
Mark: We’ll see.
Yorath: – see. Yeah.
Mark turns to Arthur.
Arthur: Well done, Mark. A fitting end to the Games. [raising his voice to address the whole room] What better way to strengthen our alliance, than a great victory by a great king?
Everyone cheers. Mark smiles ruefully.
Arthur: Perhaps Cornwall will be host to next year’s Games!
Mark gives Arthur an assessing look, then starts towards the door.
Mark: Perhaps … perhaps.
Arthur: At any rate –
Mark turns back.
Arthur: - you and your men must stay the night with me, as my honoured guests.
Mark: Very well.
Looking pleased, Mark walks out, followed by the rest of the Cornish party. Mark is talking to one of his seconds, re-playing some of the moves from the fight, when Herrick pushes between them.
Herrick: There’s another chance - tonight! At the banquet! What do you think?
Mark pretends to consider the idea, then picks Herrick up and throws him into the pig pen. Everyone laughs and cheers.
Mark: [shouts] Next year’s Games, in Cornwall!
Everyone cheers. Mark and Arthur exchange smiles and nods of acknowledgement.
That night. Arthur approaches Rowena, who is waiting on the torch-lit bridge. She gives a slight smile. Arthur leans in, to kiss her.
Kai: Arthur!
Arthur pulls away, and turns slowly to look in Kai’s direction, then turns back to Rowena.
Arthur: Will you stay a little while longer? There’s a man in the long-hut I’ve got to see.
Rowena looks disappointed.
Arthur: One of Mark’s men. I promised to teach him how to put on his cloak without frightening my horse.
Rowena looks resentful.
Arthur: And there are others who have lessons to learn. Stay.
Arthur leaves her standing there.
Near the longhouse. Llud smashes a pot with his iron fist, as if in preparation. Kai wraps a studded wristband around his fingers as a knuckle-duster. Arthur arrives, and leads Kai, Llud, and four more of his men, all armed with clubs, into the longhouse. There are sounds of a ruckus. Someone is thrown out of one of the other doors.
Looking fed up, Rowena turns her back.
Arthur and his men swagger out of the longhouse, laughing and play-fighting, evidently pleased with themselves.
[ROLL THE CREDITS]
Writer: David Osborne
OPENING SCENE
Mark of Cornwall’s village. Mark wrestles a villager, and throws him to the ground, twice, in quick succession. While another opponent is limbering up, Mark goes to get a drink. Herrick comes to stand at Mark’s shoulder.
Herrick: There will be eating, I hear. Feasting and drinking, beside the gaming and the sport.
Mark: Well, perhaps Arthur thinks Mark and his Cornishmen prefer meat and ale, to going home champions!
He puts down his beaker, slaps Herrick on the back, approaches his next opponent, and claps his hands in invitation.
Mark: Come!
They wrestle. Herrick approaches.
Herrick: It isn’t only your athletes he’s out to beat, you know. It’s you. Hold games, invite the chieftains and kings to celebrate his special alliance.
Mark grunts, and heaves his opponent onto his shoulders.
Herrick: And then, with all his new Celtic alliances sealed – what of you?
Mark pauses, then drops the man to the ground.
Mark: What of me, Herrick?
Herrick: Haa, you will win your wrestling match when Arthur’s Games convene. But what will you lose?
Mark: You, I suspect, are about to tell me.
Mark sits on a bench, and dries his hands with a cloth. Herrick puts one foot on the bench, and leans close to Mark.
Herrick: Who is the most powerful king in The West?
Mark looks up enquiringly.
Herrick: You.
Mark: Yeah.
Herrick: But let there be an alliance sealed between all the other chiefs and kings, and they together, will be stronger than you.
Mark: You forget – I am part of that alliance.
Herrick: If you behave yourself, and do not cross Arthur.
Mark hands Herrick a drink.
Herrick: Argue with him, and break away, and you will find yourself facing a far greater army than you can raise - with Arthur at its head.
Mark: [thoughtfully] The alliance is, in itself, a good thing - you’d agree, Herrick? To join forces against our common enemy the Saxons must be a sensible plan. But perhaps we are not quite ready for it – just yet.
They grin conspiratorially, and clink their mugs together.
[OPENING CREDITS]
PART 1
In Arthur’s village. Preparations for the Games are underway. Arthur and Llud come out of the longhouse, and inspect a map on which a villager is working.
Arthur: A line to mark the jumping-off place is no good. [He points at the place on the map.] Two or three contestants, it’ll disappear – there’ll be arguments.
Arthur glances at Llud; the villager nods.
Arthur: Sink in a narrow log instead, here.
Arthur points at the spot with his knife.
Llud: [Thoughtful] Yes … And we’ll mark the distances with a pole, not a rope.
The villager nods.
Mark, Herrick, and three other Cornishmen ride into the village.
Mark: Arthur! Llud!
They go to meet him.
Llud: Welcome, Mark!
Llud clasps Mark’s hand.
Mark: Thank you! Hey – you’re not entering the hand-to-hand combat with the advantage of that iron paw!
Llud: No, I’m disqualified from those contests. And count yourself lucky, because without this –
Llud thumps Mark’s thigh with his iron hand; Mark winces.
Llud: – silver hand, you might as well go home, for all the contests you could win.
All laugh.
Mark: And you, Arthur – are you going to give me the pleasure of rubbing your nose in the dust, in the wrestling?
Arthur: I prefer the more skilful competitions. Will you be riding?
Mark: Neargh … games for women and children. If you decide to join the men – [Mark puffs out his chest.] you’ll know where to find me.
The Cornish visitors ride on into the village.
Llud: [to Arthur] One contest he must win.
Arthur: The wrestling.
Llud: Perhaps. But no-one can touch him at the singing.
Arthur looks puzzled.
Arthur: Singing?
Llud: Yes – his own praises!
Both laugh.
Meanwhile Mark notices Yorath and the Jutish party approaching, and rides to another other entrance to meet them.
Mark: There … big fat Yorath himself! I didn’t know that you had another daughter. She bears a remarkable resemblance to Rowena.
Glancing back at his party - which consists of his champion wrestler, another man, and Rowena - Yorath looks irritated. Mark gasps, and palms his forehead theatrically.
Mark: My humblest apologies. This must be Trederne, your champion wrestler! [Mark laughs hugely.] Save yourself the embarrassment, Yorath. Send him back to play … with the children.
As Mark rides off, Yorath looks furious, and briefly makes as if to follow him.
Rowena: Father!
A short distance away, Mark dismounts beside Herrick.
Herrick: Yorath is easily baited. If Arthur and his followers would rise as easily, our task is simple.
Mark backhands Herrick on the chest.
Mark: They will, they will.
Mark and Herrick go off together. Kai can be seen in a nearby hut, from which he has overheard them.
In the longhouse. Arthur is sitting on the table; Kai and Llud are standing either side of it, further back. Llud walks forward.
Llud: If what Kai says is true, Arthur – you can call it a … an old hunter’s instinct, here [Llud taps his nose] if you like – Mark doesn’t care if Herrick exists or not. They’re the elephant and the flea.
Llud comes back to Arthur, and puts a hand on his arm.
Llud: But if with a few flea-bites, Mark could be persuaded that the Games and what they stand for are a threat to him …
Arthur: And Herrick? What does he stand to gain?
Kai: As you say yourself, he bears no love for you.
Arthur: I would dismiss it, but for Llud’s nose. When that twitches, there’s trouble ahead.
Llud and Kai laugh. Arthur gets up, ready for action.
Dusk. Arthur and Rowena are walking on the bridge. They stop to lean on the rail.
Rowena: Shouldn’t you be going to bed early tonight?
Arthur: [feigning distraction] Hm?
Rowena: The Games tomorrow.
Arthur: Sleep will not come to a man whose thoughts are as troubled as mine. [He turns to look at her.] Thoughts of you.
Rowena: Thoughts of me?
Arthur: Thoughts of you … [He kisses her.] … and of how you could help me … [He kisses her again.] … and of the valuable information you could discover for me …
He kisses her again.
Rowena: Information?
Arthur: [whispers] It’s a simple task. All you must do is –
Rowena: [angry] Task!
Arthur: Someone is planning to disrupt the Games.
Rowena: [most offended] I might have guessed!
Rowena gives Arthur a shove.
Arthur: Mark and Herrick - they’re plotting something.
Rowena: I hope it’s to break your neck!
She stomps off. Arthur gives a wry smile.
In the longhouse. Yorath and some other visiting chiefs, along with Trederne, are sitting around a low table, gambling and drinking. Yorath throws the dice. Everyone else guffaws. Yorath has lost again.
Yorath: By the gods, if these dice are falling true, then there must be a curse on them!
He passes the dice to Trederne, who shakes them.
Erwith: Probably the gods are punishing you for your sins!
Fenred: Like stealing that stallion of mine.
Everyone goes quiet.
Yorath: What d’you mean by stealing? I borrowed him.
Fenred: You stole him.
Yorath gets to his feet.
Yorath: I borrowed him to breed with one of my mares. I gave him back, didn’t I?
Fenred also stands.
Fenred: After I brought my army to the very gates of your village!
Yorath: Why, you –
Erwith gets between them, and slams a jug down on the table.
Erwith: It’s forgotten!
There is a moment of silence, then Yorath and Fenred clasp each other’s forearms.
Yorath: It is forgotten.
Trederne: It’s forgotten – Let’s play.
He rolls the dice. They all guffaw again. Rowena sweeps in.
Yorath: You see? You see? It happened only once!
Rowena whispers in Yorath’s ear.
Yorath: What?
Rowena beckons him away from the game.
Yorath: Yes, but –
Yorath gestures at the table.
Yorath: Neargh!
He gets up and goes over to Rowena.
Yorath: Well?
Rowena: I want to go home.
Yorath: Home?
Rowena: I have been insulted.
Yorath: By whom? Oh no. Don’t tell me. Arthur, hm? You’ve had one of your usual stupid quarrels, and for that you disturb my game.
Rowena: If you don’t take me, I’ll ask Trederne.
Yorath: You’ll do no such thing! He’s my champion wrestler! Alright. What has he done this time?
Rowena: He wants me to spy for him, on Mark of Cornwall and Herrick.
Yorath: Tcha! And why not?
Rowena: [indignantly] Why not? You’re as bad as he is! Am I Arthur’s slave, to be ordered to do this or that whenever he snaps his fingers? To hell with his alliance. And his stupid games.
Yorath: Listen Rowena. Tonight we drink, and cast dice. Not long ago, it was a different sort of game. It was the ring of swords and the screaming of men dying. War and armies, year in, year out. If Mark and Herrick – that toad – if they’re up to no good, and you can flush them out, you’re doing all of us a service. Not just Arthur – all of us. Eh?
Rowena looks thoughtful.
It is morning. Mark is sitting outside by a fire, eating some meat off a bone. Rowena approaches him.
Mark: I suppose you’ve come to plead for that girl-child, Trederne – to beg for his cracked ribs?
He snaps the bone.
Rowena: I came to beg for myself.
Mark goes on eating in a deliberately uncouth manner, spitting out a mouthful of food. Rowena comes closer.
Rowena: I want to help.
Mark: Help? Help with what? [He belches, then grins.] For whom?
Rowena: Help you. Help against Arthur.
Mark: Arthur? Huh! What’s he done? Or is it more what he hasn’t done?
Mark laughs heartily. Rowena purses her lips.
Rowena: If there’s a knife to be thrust, let me thrust it. Let me be the first.
Mark draws a dagger.
Mark: Here’s a knife. And there’s Arthur!
He gives a quick glance over her shoulder, and throws the knife. Rowena turns with a gasp, and sees the knife skewer a hanging water-skin. She turns back, trying to hide her relief.
Mark: Is that what you want?
Rowena lowers her gaze.
Rowena: [very quietly] No.
Mark: [mockingly] Neah … Neah … Just like a woman. [He glares at her.] No action, and all talk.
He gets up and goes and dunks his head in the water trough, then shakes the water from his hair. Rowena spits on the ground. Mark spits a mouthful of water into the air. Rowena walks off.
The same morning. A young Cornishman – Barth – is practising running by the river. As he puts his sword-belt back on, he sees Rowena’s reflection in the water, and looks up to see her standing on the far bank.
Barth: I trust I am not the cause of your unhappy face.
Rowena: Not you, but your leader Mark.
Barth: He’s a fine warrior, but not always as gentle with women as he might.
Barth sheathes his sword.
Rowena: I question his sense, not his manners.
She glances left and right, conspiratorially.
Rowena: I would help you in your plan against Arthur. But he will let me have no part in it.
Rowena and Barth are now walking together beside the river.
Barth: But Mark is right, Rowena. A woman has no place in this business.
Rowena: You talk as if I were helpless! I can ride as well as anyone. Better than you, I warrant.
Barth: What good is riding when swords are drawn? Once we have provoked Arthur, do you think your little dagger a match for his sword? Or Kai’s axe?
Rowena comes to a halt.
Rowena: Provoke? Just that? It would be easy for me.
Barth turns to face her.
Barth: But Arthur or any of his men would be chivalrous with a woman. [He grasps his sword hilt.] Not so us.
In the longhouse. Arthur, Kai and Llud sit by the fire, while Rowena stands warming her hands.
Arthur: Provoke? How?
Rowena: I’ve told you all I know. You will be pushed into losing your tempers, so it will be you who first draws the sword. The Games will be ruined, and you will be discredited.
Arthur: Along with the alliance … How did you find this out?
Rowena: You have your information.
Arthur: [quietly vehement] From whom? Mark?
Rowena: It could be …
She starts walking towards the door.
Arthur: Or was it that young warrior of Mark’s I saw you walking with?
Llud and Kai look on with wary interest.
Rowena: Perhaps.
Rowena smiles, and continues on her way.
Arthur: How?
Rowena turns, suddenly serious.
Arthur: How did you find it out? [He stalks towards her.] What did you have to do to get this information? [very loud] I demand to know!
Arthur grabs Rowena’s arm; she shrugs him off.
Rowena: Demand from your soldiers. From me, you can only ask.
Arthur: Very well. I’ll ask you. Will you tell me where you got this information?
Rowena: [mischievously] No!
She runs out.
Arthur: [shouts] Come back at once!
Arthur stalks back to the hearthside.
Llud: Perhaps it was only her quick tongue that managed to wheedle the information.
Arthur laughs.
Arthur: Certainly it was. But I couldn’t spoil her moment of triumph, could I?
Kai laughs.
[INTERVAL]
PART 2
A crowd, including Arthur, Kai, Llud, Mark and Herrick, stand around the long jump arena. A contestant takes his turn at the event. The watchers cheer. Judges come over to mark the distance.
Old man: Child’s play! Hey! In my day we leapt rivers, twice that distance, and were still on our feet at the other side, ready to cut the throats of – of brigands like him!
He points at Mark, who roars with laughter.
Mark: Come on, Grandad! You couldn’t even leap over your own left foot!
Everyone laughs. Arthur and Kai, followed by Llud, walk away from the crowd.
Kai: I wonder when the provocation will start.
Llud: Soon enough.
They go to stand near two pens, in each of which a contestant is trying to grab a piglet, and put it in a tub.
Arthur: When they do provoke us, we smile, and hold our temper even if it’s fit to burst. They will not destroy everything we’ve worked for all these years.
Kai laughs at the contestants. While each man catches his piglet and puts it into the tub, the shot-putt contest proceeds.
Kai lines up with some other young men for a foot-race. Barth is next to him.
Villager: [indistinctly] On your marks! Ready!
A red flag signals the start, and the men set off running. The crowd yells.
Llud: Kai! Come on!
At the end of the first lap, Kai is in the lead, but as they turn back, Barth appears to trip him, and he falls. He gets up and finishes the race, but can’t make up all the lost ground. Barth wins. Kai runs on past him. Mark goes up to Barth, grinning.
Mark: Well run, Barth!
Mark puts a hand on his shoulder, then gives him a tap on the ribs, and a meaningful look, warning him to be ready for trouble. Kai stalks purposefully towards them. Barth looks nervous. Kai stares at Barth for a moment, then grips his arm.
Kai: Well run, Friend. I always heard they could run like the wind in Cornwall. Now it’s proven.
Mark looks befuddled and outraged at once. Arthur, Llud and Rowena approach.
Mark: There was an incident!
Kai: Incident?
Mark shoves Kai in the chest, first with one hand, then the other.
Mark: You fouled my man. You nearly cost him the race.
Kai feigns embarrassment.
Kai: Oh, that. Huh! Clumsy oaf that I am - my deepest apologies.
Mark looks at a loss – Barth, still rather worried. Behind them, Llud smirks, and Arthur smiles.
Kai: Hey there! [He gestures to unseen servant.] Wine, for Barth of Cornwall!
Looking annoyed, Mark stalks off, taking Barth with him. Llud nods approvingly at Kai.
A man on horseback gallops down a course, leans down, picks a piece of cloth up from the ground, and holds it aloft. The crowd cheers. Next, Arthur rides towards a similar target on the ground. Herrick is seen among the watching crowd, with a Celt sidekick.
Herrick: [to Celt] Get ready …
Arthur retrieves his target, and holds it aloft. The crowd cheers.
Herrick: [to Celt] Now!
As Arthur rides past, the Celt sidekick flourishes his cloak in front of Arthur’s horse, which shies, causing Arthur to fall off. Herrick and Mark laugh. Rowena looks annoyed, Arthur, angry.
Mark: I’ve got an old donkey that I keep for packing. Perhaps you’d feel safer with him!
Arthur gets to his feet, and turns to the Celt with the cloak.
Arthur: Don’t feel badly, Friend, the air is chill, and perhaps you do not have the habit of horses.
Celt: Oh, I know horses very well.
Arthur feigns amusement.
Arthur: But not mine. [He glances pointedly over his shoulder, at Mark.] Fool beast that he is. Frightened by a simple thing like an honest fellow’s cloak.
Laughing, Arthur lays the piece of cloth he retrieved on the Celt’s shoulder, and walks away. Herrick, his Celt sidekick, and Mark, all look annoyed; Mark nudges Barth, and stalks off; Barth understandably seems disconcerted. Rowena smiles to herself.
Rubbing his neck, Arthur joins Kai, who puts an arm around his shoulders. They stand and watch Llud competing in a race.
Each of the four contestants is hauling a sled full of rocks. One of Mark’s men appears to knock Llud over; the crowd boos. Llud gets up and finishes the race, coming in third. He congratulates the winner, then approaches the man with whom he collided, and who came second.
Llud: Don’t take it too hardly, My Friend. The gods were against you.
Arthur and Kai exchange glances, smiling. Herrick looks on grimly.
Llud: I tripped and baulked you. [He slaps the man on the shoulder.] You will surely win next year.
Inside the longhouse, which has been stripped of furniture. The wrestling competition is taking place. A crowd, including Arthur, Kai, and Llud, watches as Mark, stripped to the waist, throws an opponent across the room, where the man falls to the ground.
Llud: [barely audible above the din] Well fought, Mark!
Mark spreads his arms, accepting the applause, then returns to his corner where his two seconds start rubbing him down. Herrick approaches.
Herrick: Hasn’t worked with Llud, either.
Mark: They must have found out, they were ready for us. In the hand-to-hand combat we tripped their man twice. In the tournament, we loaded our man’s stave, and let Arthur see it. He called it an ‘interesting reinforcement.’ [furious] Blast him for a fox! He’s put us down.
The crowd cheers as Yorath’s party, including the wrestler Trederne, and Rowena, arrives.
Herrick: We’re not too late. There’s still your final bout with Trederne.
Mark: [angry] So?
Herrick: A simple thing … a gouged eye, an elbow, anything to inflame that temper of Yorath’s. Yorath is laying odds on Trederne winning the wrestling. A clenched fist from you, and he will be forced to call you a cheat. His sword’ll be out before Trederne hits the ground. Arthur’ll be in there to support him. Their treaty calls for mutual defence.
Mark: [incredulous] What about my championship?
Herrick: Ah, that’ll have to wait till next year. Meantime –
Mark grabs Herrick around the neck.
Mark: [menacing whisper] Meantime, get this through your scheming head. I am the strongest man you’ll ever see. I’ve been practising for half a year so that Yorath and his champion can learn that the hard way. Smash Arthur, yes.
Herrick is going red in the face; Mark starts shaking him.
Mark: Disrupt the Games, yes. [growls] But find another way!
Mark lets go, and Herrick falls to the ground. Arthur and Kai watch with interest.
Mark: I don’t need to cheat, gouge, knee or punch anybody. [Mark puffs out his chest] I’m the greatest wrestler alive!
Trederne raises his arms; the crowd cheers. Yorath approaches one of Mark’s seconds, and taps him on the shoulder.
Yorath: You! Did you bring your broom? For afterwards, sweeping away your leader’s splintered bones, eh?
Mark: Ha! Hark the Mountain of Fat! Gyah!
Mark somersaults across the floor, picks up Trederne and executes a body-slam. The crowd yells and cheers. Yorath rushes forward.
Yorath: No! That’s not right! Stop this!
Arthur holds him back and waves a warning finger at him. Mark grins, raises his arms and turns, acknowledging the crowd. Trederne gets to his feet and puts Mark in a headlock.
Yorath: [inaudible imprecation] … Break his neck!
Trederne throws Mark. Yorath laughs. Arthur looks disapproving. Trederne strips off his shirt. Mark gets up, and they circle each other, then lock arms, trying each other’s strength. Mark throws Trederne. He gets up and they clasp each other. Mark lifts Trederne, trying for another body-slam, but falls backwards. Trederne lands on top of him, treats Mark to a forearm smash, gets up, kicks Mark in the head, and walks away. Mark gets up, lifts Trederne onto his shoulders, parades around for a few moments, taking applause from the crowd, then body-slams Trederne once more. Trederne arches, and rolls about, clearly in pain. Yorath kneels beside him, and pats his cheeks. Mark throws water in Trederne’s face. Trederne revives and scrambles up, as if to restart the fight, but Mark offers him a beaker. He takes it and drinks. Everyone cheers. Trederne and Mark embrace. Yorath looks disconcerted. Trederne walks away. Yorath points a disapproving finger at Mark.
Yorath: You took him by surp–
Yorath stops, considering, then laughs, and he and Mark clasp each other’s forearms.
Yorath: Next year, you’ll –
Mark: We’ll see.
Yorath: – see. Yeah.
Mark turns to Arthur.
Arthur: Well done, Mark. A fitting end to the Games. [raising his voice to address the whole room] What better way to strengthen our alliance, than a great victory by a great king?
Everyone cheers. Mark smiles ruefully.
Arthur: Perhaps Cornwall will be host to next year’s Games!
Mark gives Arthur an assessing look, then starts towards the door.
Mark: Perhaps … perhaps.
Arthur: At any rate –
Mark turns back.
Arthur: - you and your men must stay the night with me, as my honoured guests.
Mark: Very well.
Looking pleased, Mark walks out, followed by the rest of the Cornish party. Mark is talking to one of his seconds, re-playing some of the moves from the fight, when Herrick pushes between them.
Herrick: There’s another chance - tonight! At the banquet! What do you think?
Mark pretends to consider the idea, then picks Herrick up and throws him into the pig pen. Everyone laughs and cheers.
Mark: [shouts] Next year’s Games, in Cornwall!
Everyone cheers. Mark and Arthur exchange smiles and nods of acknowledgement.
That night. Arthur approaches Rowena, who is waiting on the torch-lit bridge. She gives a slight smile. Arthur leans in, to kiss her.
Kai: Arthur!
Arthur pulls away, and turns slowly to look in Kai’s direction, then turns back to Rowena.
Arthur: Will you stay a little while longer? There’s a man in the long-hut I’ve got to see.
Rowena looks disappointed.
Arthur: One of Mark’s men. I promised to teach him how to put on his cloak without frightening my horse.
Rowena looks resentful.
Arthur: And there are others who have lessons to learn. Stay.
Arthur leaves her standing there.
Near the longhouse. Llud smashes a pot with his iron fist, as if in preparation. Kai wraps a studded wristband around his fingers as a knuckle-duster. Arthur arrives, and leads Kai, Llud, and four more of his men, all armed with clubs, into the longhouse. There are sounds of a ruckus. Someone is thrown out of one of the other doors.
Looking fed up, Rowena turns her back.
Arthur and his men swagger out of the longhouse, laughing and play-fighting, evidently pleased with themselves.
[ROLL THE CREDITS]