Two days later they arrived back at Avalon. His father's anger was subsided with the relief of seeing his son and the fifty or sixty women and children that he had returned with, but his comfort was short-lived. The overthrow of the King of Allenay and the exodus of the people from their land was only the beginning. Throughout the next year three more of the neighbouring lands were taken by Chaval. Valines fell, then Machiel, and finally Lemieux. Taken with the same merciless thirst for blood and power. Chaval would only stop long enough for his troops to rest, and their supplies replenished. His desire was relentless. Avalon’s city gates would continue to open to let evermore mourning and injured refugees in. “Etienne, I do not know how much longer our city will be able to cope,” said the king to his son as they stood on the battlements surveying the city. “We have barely enough food in the keep for those already in Avalon, and still they continue to come to our gate.” He turned and looked away from the people focusing again on the seagulls. “The fields have been harvested, our stores will soon be empty.” It was the first time Etienne had heard his father show any signs of defeat. He had always been strong, the one to turn to for answers, support; but even the king knew now that this was not sustainable, action was needed.
“Father, I have been with the guards. We have allocated enough food for all those who need it. The queue grows longer but no one is without. Everyone has a place to live and although living is cramped they are comfortable. We will survive.”
“I do not share your optimism son.”
“What do you suggest then father?”
“We must build strength from within.”
“How do you mean?” asked Etienne.
“Every able person has a role Etienne.” Etienne noticed his father’s shoulders straighten as his chest inflated. “The city’s walls must be made higher and stronger,” strength was returning to his voice. “More weapons must be forged and built, and the army needs to be fully trained and prepared.” This was the father that Etienne remembered, the ruler and protector of his people. “I will call counsel together, we can not just wait for our city to be next.” 

Etienne’s only solace in this time of unbearable heartache was to be with Arlette. He would spend as many evenings as possible in her arms. If it hadn't been for Arlette, Etienne didn’t know how he would have survived the year. She kept him strong and even though their time together was becoming ever more limited; the time they had was magical and filled him with the strength he needed to carry on. Her love and support had given him belief that everything would right itself in the end. She was his world; and he would die for her safety. She was his motivation to make keep Avalon protected, and Chaval kept at distance.
As they lay together, in the same way they had on many evenings their bodies locked as if one, Etienne sensed that something was worrying Arlette.
“What is wrong my darling?” asked Etienne.
“I’m fine,” she replied, but Etienne knew she wasn’t.
“What is it? Please tell me,” he continued.
“My love please don’t, you have many other things to worry on.”
“You are what I care about above all else. Please tell me.” Etienne looked in her eyes as the lay beside each other.
“I’m pregnant.” Etienne looked at Arlette, his eyes unable to hide his disbelief. He loved Arlette, she was his world but a fog of confusion filled his mind. He wanted this but things were not how he had imagined. They had learnt that their circumstances were not the same as other peoples, and that their love was powerful enough to overcome anything, but this was not the right time to bring their baby into the world, it wasn’t safe. He put his arm around her, not breaking eye contact and pulled her close.
“I must tell my father of our love.” said Etienne, as the fog in his mind began to clear. “I know you have wanted to protect me from this but I need to tell him. It is time for me to protect you.” Arlette knew that trying to change his mind was of no use.
“My love, please choose your timing wisely there is no rush. I respect your father deeply and would not want him to think ill of me.”
“He would not think ill of you. He is a wise man. He has experienced love like ours. When he can see in my eyes what you mean to me he will give his blessing.”

A week passed. Etienne agreed with Arlette as soon as the opportunity arose to speak with his father alone he would tell him. He would ask, for his father’s blessing that Arlette and her brother would move to the castle. Arlette wasn’t initially eager to do this, but the idea that a family of refugees could use her home as shelter gave her some comfort. He wanted his father to know, how proud he was of his love. The night before the day his father was to find out he lay awake all night holding Arlette. Each time he closed his eyes his head would spin with questions and thoughts of the future. Before daybreak Etienne kissed his love as she lay asleep next to him and left with the intention that today would be the day his father was told.
Etienne entered the main castle gates, still under the cloak of darkness, but noticed this morning there were more people milling around than usual. Cautiously he slipped back up the large stone staircase and into his room. He was about to wash his face and undress when a knock at the door startled him.
“Hello,” Etienne called wondering who would be looking for him at this early in the day.
“Etienne, it’s your father.” Etienne’s heart dropped. He thought to himself ‘He must have seen me coming in. He knows. I didn’t want him to find out this way’. The door opened and the king walked in. Something had happened. Etienne could tell instantly from his father’s face. He sat down on the edge of Etienne’s bed, not commenting on the fact that it hadn’t been slept in all night. “Son, I don not know how to tell you this, but I have just received news that Citerne has been attacked.” It was the news that Etienne had been dreading. Citerne was Olivier’s father’s Kingdom.

Three days later Citerne had been taken. Many casualties were reported and the stream of refugees appeared at the city gate. Now was not the time to tell his father. They stood together on the balcony, as they had done on the arrival of the refugees from the other four Kingdoms and Etienne knew, as his father did, that their city could take no more people. Something had to be done.
“Son, call the court and any surviving royalty and dignitaries from our neighbouring Kingdoms together. Tell them to meet me in the grand hall. We can take this no longer.” Etienne gathered the men from around the castle as his father had requested. As he ran out of the castle doors to find anyone else who needed to be invited he saw his friend Olivier coming through the castle gates. Olivier was walking with other refugee’s from Citerne, their haunted faces telling the tale of their experiences. Relief filled his body. He ran to Olivier and they threw their arms around each other. “You are alive my brother?”
“I am fine Et but my city has been burnt to ash, my people murdered. I couldn’t stop them,” tears filled his eyes. “I will not rest until I have revenge for my people Et, we can not let this continue, we must attack, and we must defeat him. Chaval can not get away with this anymore.”
“We are not going to let him. Come with me I think my father may have a plan.”
They walked together to the grand hall. Olivier still had his arm around Etienne, whether to keep him upright or to finally feel safe, Etienne didn’t care, it felt good to have his friend by his side again. As they entered the hall it was already full of noise. Men were shouting and arguing. ‘We should attack now’, ‘We’re not ready, his army would crush our wounded men’, ‘Chaval should pay for what he has done’. There was a sense in the air that the shark had smelt blood. The tipping point breached. Olivier and Etienne made their way to the head of the table to await the king. Etienne pulled a chair beside his so Olivier could sit. Silence fell across the room. The friends broke from their discussion to see the king had entered. Slowly, meaningfully he made his way along the great hall to take his place at the head. The weight of South West France now fell on his shoulders and the burden was apparent. He passed his son and placed his hand on his shoulder but said nothing. He then sat and everyone who had a seat in the overcrowded room followed. Those who didn’t have a seat stayed standing around the edge of the room watching the king. A servant came to king’s side to fill his goblet with wine. The king leaned forward and placed his hand over the goblet to indicate he didn’t want any. “Now is not the time to drink,” he said to the small boy holding the carafe of wine. The king stood. “My friends,” his voice echoed around the room as if making sure that every stone heard his words. “Evil has entered our land, and the time has come to drive it out.” The king thumped his hand on the table making goblets fall and cutlery jump. The men remained silent. “We have waited in silence for too long. Our forefather’s came to this land together to build a better life in safety and harmony. We have lived this way for four generations. Our people have worked and built their homes under our protection, and we have repaid them with shelter and food. Now the food is being taken from our table.” The king paused as murmurs of agreement came from the room. “Our land, our land," the king emphasised, "that is rightfully ours is being stolen. We shall stand for this tyranny no longer. Chaval cannot be held unaccountable for these atrocities to our fellow man any more. We must come together, and take back what is ours.” A cheer rang out from the room. Everyone was now on their feet cheering, clapping, banging their goblets and plates on the table. It was what they had waited to hear, these proud men were to be given the opportunity to strike back against the ill that had been done to their people. The king raised his hands to bring the men to silence again. “An army will be formed from the soldiers of Avalon, and those soldiers of your lands. Together we will take back your homes. I can not do it alone, but together you will return home again.” These last words echoed in the air and seemed to illuminate the room like a beacon of hope. “The first refugees entered these city walls a year ago and the last one entered today. We have waited for the time to act and that time is now.” The king paused again to let the cheering die down. “Now all return to your camps and alert any man willing to fight to be ready.”