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Paul Finch

Dark North

Introduction

Found in a church vestry in 2006, the Salisbury Manuscript (British Library MS Add. 1138) is the only existing copy of The Second Book of King Arthur and His Noble Knights. Apparently a sequel to Thomas Malory’s Le Morte D’Arthur, the best-known and most influential version of the story of King Arthur and his Round Table, the Second Book has caused enormous controversy throughout the academic world.

Following negotiations with the manuscript’s owner, Abaddon Books won the rights to modernise and publish the stories for the mainstream market in early 2010. Dark North is the third title to be released to the public.

For more information about the Salisbury Manuscript, and themes and notes from this story, see the Appendices at the rear of this book.

My son,

When I am gone you will inherit nothing but my bad name, this fur and this sword. Do not underestimate their power. In particular, do not underestimate this sword, for it is the embodiment of our strength. Wield it, and those who come against you will fall like stalks of grass. Do not think this an evil thing, for you will be lord and protector of many lands. While countless will die by your sword, countless others will live by it.

God rules this world and His people thrive, not because He is good but because He is strong. Christians once died like cattle, men, women and children hunted down and put to death in torturous ways. They only came to safety the day they struck back. At the battle of the Milvian Bridge, General Constantine destroyed the pagan horde of the pig Maxentius with blood and iron. This is the only lesson you need learn. The men of the One God rule because they are mightier than those of many gods. Do not be fooled by the wittering of priests and monks.

Strength matters. Spare those who oppose you, and they will kill you and your children. This gift of rage I bequeath to you in the form of this sword, which has delivered death to more foes than I can count, and must continue to.

Worship God, serve your overlord, and vanquish your enemies — vanquish them utterly. There is no law but your own. God respects those who conquer and triumph in His name. Your enemies are His. Cleanse the world of them.

— Duke Corneus of Penharrow,

Dictated on his death-bed

Prologue

Lucius Julio Bizerta did not care a great deal for the Imperial purple. Nor did he stand on ceremony, not even when there were matters of state to discuss. As such, on that unseasonably mild February evening when he received twelve honoured guests in the audience chamber of the Episcopal Palace at Ravenna, he was wearing a simple tunic, breeches and sandals. There were no laurel leaves on his brow; there was no sceptre in his hand; the only ring on his hands was the royal seal.

The chamber was tall and spacious, and built from polished white marble, but aside from its simple New Testament frescoes, and the heavy ermine curtain drawn across its single casement, it was devoid of ornamentation. The hearth was bare — the hot-water pipes under the tiled floor provided adequate warmth, and numerous candelabra cast an orange glow. Twelve cushioned seats were arranged for the guests; as they included two consuls, three senators, several high churchmen, and various representatives of the capital’s wealthiest patrician families, they might have expected greater extravagance, but less was always more where Emperor Lucius was concerned. He didn’t address them flanked by flunkeys, but with only a single scribe to keep a record of their meeting. He awaited their arrival behind a broad teak desk rather than seated on a gilded throne; a desk layered with books and quills, which revealed more than words ever could the enquiring state of his mind and his dedication to personal industry.