paperlegends Story - Line of Dance, part 1

[thismaz]

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Title: Line of dance
Author: thismaz - Maz
Artist: choco-souffle
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, established relationship.
Characters: The court of Camelot and all its members.
Rating: NC-17 I think.
Word Count: 43,350
Warnings: Mention of the rape and murder of a female OC, description (but not depiction) of medieval justice/punishment, minor character death in battle.
Summary: Arthur has come to the throne. He needs to establish himself and demonstrate his difference from his father. Too soon, a murder changes everything and Arthur has to go to war.
Author's note 1: Goes AU some time after The Tears of Uther Pendragon, but before the last episodes of the third series, since Cenred is still King of Escetia and Lancelot is not in Camelot.
Author's note 2: My very great thanks to llama1412 for the beta, particularly for pointing out the major problem in the structure of the start. And especially to sparrow2000 for being my best friend, sounding board, plot bunny wrangler and voice of calm common sense. Also, to DJ, for (hopefully) catching the last few typos. If you spot any more that we all missed, feel free to let me know in comments.
Art link: See the the lovely art in a single post at choco-souffle's LJ - Line of Dance maps and artwork
Disclaimer: I write fan fic. All the characters from the Merlin series are the property of the BBC and Shine, etc. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this writing.
Huge thanks to the_muppet for running paperlegends.
Comments are always greatly appreciated, loved and cherished.

Posted in 6 parts, because of LJ limits. Post 1 is below the cut. The rest are - Post 2 , Post 3, Post 4, Post 5, Post 6
Also available at AO3



Line of Dance

Merlin had almost reached the first turn of the stairs when a man swept down from above, around the corner and clipped Merlin's shoulder with his own. "Watch where you're going, dammit," he snarled, and continued on his way without a second glance.

The quality of his clothes marked him as a man of rank and as he turned into the doorway leading out to the courtyard, the slanting sunlight caught the stooping eagle embroidered in gold on his shoulder.

Merlin had seen him arrive six weeks before, but had never heard his name. He was one more among the horde of knights and nobles who had come to Camelot to witness Uther's funeral and had stayed for Arthur's coronation.

Six weeks later they were still in Camelot. They hovered around Arthur, attempting to curry favour on the strength of their lands, taking up his time, often to the detriment of his temper. The general feeling among the castle staff was that they couldn't leave soon enough. The castle and its new king had had little time for anything other than matters of state, since Uther had fallen into his final illness and died.

Kay came running down the stairs, all powerful frame and wild, fair hair. He looked like a Saxon, although his parents both came from established British families with their roots in the old Roman gentry. "Did you see where Isen went?" he asked.

Merlin shook his head. "Who?"

"Lord Isen. Young man. He was just ahead of me."

"Oh, yes. He went that way," Merlin said, pointing to the doorway at the bottom of the stairs.

"Thanks." Kay paused. "You all right?" he asked.

Merlin smiled. "Yeah, sure," he said. "Of course I am."

Kay smiled back, his teeth white inside the long moustache that framed his mouth and hung down below his chin. "Going up or down?" he asked.

"Up. Arthur asked me to dig Edgar out of his office and drag him through the cellars to inspect the remaining winter stores."

"I'll bet that he didn't use those words."

"No, but it's what he meant. All these guests are eating us out of hearth and home. Some of them brought supplies with them, but most..."

Kay turned towards the lower floor. "Take Robert, instead," he advised. "He knows more than his master."

"Thanks."

"No trouble. You'll find your feet, soon enough." And on that cryptic note, he continued down the stairs and followed the young man with the eagle coat of arms, out into the courtyard.

Merlin spent the next couple of hours walking the cellars with Robert, the Chief Steward's senior clerk, counting the remaining stocks of wine, salt meat, cheeses, turnips and other root vegetables, apples in barrels, bottles of soft fruit and crocks of salt, while Robert recorded the tally. By the time they were finished, Merlin was feeling relieved that they wouldn't all starve to death in the immediate future, while Robert was frowning in concern.

Leaving Robert to write up his report, Merlin escaped to attend Arthur's twice weekly session of court. Already late, he ran the length of the corridor from Robert's office and clattered down the stairs.

When the reception hall came into view, he paused. The room was full of people waiting to enter the main hall, nobles and common petitioners crowded together. Sir Huw and Lord Blane passed him, descending to join the mass. Merlin followed more slowly.

Very few, if any, of the visiting nobles would have cases to present. They were men and women with not enough to do to fill their days, except watch Arthur as he took control of his inheritance.

Since the crowd was still outside the hall, it meant that Merlin was not as late as he had feared. He scanned the room. They were not all strangers. He saw Sir Dagonet and an older man, similar enough in form and appearance to be his father, deep in conversation. Near them, Lady Kenzie's daughter stood helplessly by while her mother flirted with a lord in a long, wolf skin cloak, until Sir Bedwyr came to her rescue, bringing his sister over and drawing her away. The wolf-clad lord was fooling himself if he thought he'd get anywhere with Lady Kenzie; she was actually in love with her husband. It appeared he simply did not recognise the game that even Merlin could see. But Merlin had also seen her walking in the walled garden with Lord Kenzie and seen their faces when they looked at each other, thinking themselves alone.

Merlin took the final two steps to the main floor and edged along the wall towards the door into the servants' passage. On the way he overheard snatches of the conversations going on around him.

"Two pennies a bushel," Lord Angor exclaimed. "I ask you, is that a fair price? I should have had him whipped."

Sir Ector laughed. "But I'll wager you didn't," he replied.

Lord Angor was leaning against the wall and Merlin had to move away from the safety of solid stone to get around them in the crowd.

"...hair like silk," a young man sighed. The lady he was talking to did not appear pleased by the sentiment. The reason became clear a moment later. "She is as fair as the morning," he added, in a tone of voice more often heard from the bard, when he switched from tales of monsters and warriors, to pleasing the ladies.

Merlin had almost reached the door and the promise of escape when, behind him, an older voice commented, "No, not his father. But I'm not sure that's a bad thing. Uther was firm; he forged Camelot into a strong and rich kingdom, but," Merlin paused and pricked up his ears, resisting the urge to turn around, "Uther was a war leader, not a ruler for a time of peace," the man said. "He forged this land, but I sometimes doubted his ability to hold it and mould it."

"He did well for twenty five years," another man said.

"Maybe, but for all his diplomatic missions and temporary treaties, he was becoming more inflexible with each passing year. The son has a finely developed sense of justice, too. I expect he'll shake things up."

There was a snort of disapproval and the first man laughed. Merlin glanced over his shoulder and recognised Lord Connal. "Broga, my old friend," Lord Connal said. "Uther is dead. He can't hear me now, and if he can, he can't object."

Turning slightly, Merlin made a show of searching his pockets, as if looking for something, as an excuse to stay where he was. He could just see Lord Connal's face beyond Lord Broga's bulk.

Lord Broga joined in with Lord Connal's laughter, with a chuckle of his own. "True, true," he agreed. "And you are too old and wily a fox to say anything to Arthur's detriment, now he is king."

"I have no reason to do so."

Lord Connal was tall and thin with greying hair that he wore long and loose. He looked frail, but Merlin had seen him fight in tournament and knew him to be anything but.

Broga, Lord of Garsbury, was about the same age, but in every other respect as different as a man could be. He was solidly built, like a brick shithouse, as certain of Merlin's old drinking companions would have said. His hair was still a rich, deep brown, cropped short like his beard. He was dressed in a fine, fur-trimmed robe that reached to the ground and showed off his broad shoulders. "Yet?" he asked.

"Maybe," Lord Connal conceded, frowning judiciously. "But yet or not, it's all I have. He seems to have some new ideas, already. Of course, he's had control of the army for months, but I swear I saw some manoeuvres I'd never seen before and didn't understand, when I was down by the river, yesterday morning."

"Give me a legion any day," Lord Broga replied. "There's nothing can stand against a well-formed, well-disciplined legion."

Merlin edged away and reached the door.

He hurried down the servants' corridor and into the Great Hall by a side entrance, to take his usual position against the wall, below the dais upon which Arthur's throne sat. Just as he made it to his place, the great doors opened and the crowd from outside streamed in. They milled around for a while, but soon settled, with the petitioners gathering around Geoffrey's table.

The initial noise died down to a steady murmur of conversation that stopped entirely when the doors opened again. Heads turned, following something that moved through the middle of the crowd and, a moment later, Arthur came into view at the front of the hall. He paused before climbing up onto the dais, looked around and caught Merlin's eye. A small, mocking smile twisted the corner of his mouth. Merlin grimaced in reply, straightened his jacket over his shoulders and smoothed down his hair.

The business of the court proceeded, much as it had in the six weeks since Arthur succeeded to the throne, and intermittently during the months before, when Uther was too ill to leave his bed and Arthur had stood in for him.

It was when they were hearing a case of disputed land title and after the plaintiffs had both presented their pleas and called their witnesses that Arthur said, without looking across at him, "Merlin."

Merlin edged forward. "Sire?"

Still not even glancing at him, Arthur asked, "What do you think I should do?"

There was an intake of breath around the room, which developed into a low level murmur. Merlin opened his mouth. "Um... well..."

Arthur finally looked his way. "Come on, Merlin, I'm asking for your counsel," he said.

Both men in the dispute had supporters, who were each powerful in their small way. "Um..." The first snickers began among the gathering and Merlin took a breath. His voice was slightly too loud when he replied, "If there are no records of ownership. And, and the witnesses are contradicting each other." The two major backers exchanged a look behind the heads of the claimants. "Well, there doesn't seem to be any way for an outsider to judge the truth of either claim." From the other the side of the Great Hall, Gwen caught his eye and nodded encouragement, although her smile betrayed her nerves.

"So?" Arthur asked.

"So... um..." Merlin looked from one of the two farmers in front of the dais to the other and back to Arthur. "You could divide the land equally, Sire, and record it properly this time, so ownership is clear?"

Arthur's eyes were solemn but approving. "Yes," he said thoughtfully. Straightening he nodded decisively. "Geoffrey," he said. "Record it so. Cedric Thatcher is to have the formal deeds to the fields on the eastern side of the brook. Aidan Wilson will have the fields on the west. Draw it up and have an accurate map marked appropriately."

Neither claimant looked very happy with this solution, but their two most influential supporters were smiling, so there was a good chance that civil strife would not erupt in Willowdale as a result of Merlin's inexperience.

Supremely unimpressed by the continuing whispers, Arthur brought the court session to a close. He nodded to Geoffrey, and to Merlin, and swept down the central aisle to the doors, which the guards pulled open for him to pass through.

Merlin was left standing where he had been when Arthur put him so firmly on the spot, staring helplessly after him. He looked over at Geoffrey, who merely shrugged and turned away to gather up the rolls and scrolls scattered across his table.

Kay came over and clapped Merlin on the shoulder. Taking a fistful of the cloth of Merlin's jacket, he tugged Merlin into motion. "Come along, boy," he said, for all that he was only five or six years Merlin's elder. "Don't stand there like a post. You have a position to maintain now. That means you have to start acting up to it."

Stumbling into step, Merlin looked up at him. "What the hell just happened?" he asked.

Kay released Merlin's shoulder and stroked his right hand down his moustache. His voice held a distinct note of amusement when he said, "I do believe you just got named as Arthur's first Privy Counsellor."

Merlin stopped walking. "Right. Yeah. Um... Do you think he did it on purpose?"

At that Kay laughed and flung an arm around Merlin shoulders, dragging him towards the side door that led directly out into the courtyard. "Of course he did." They exited the hall and Merlin stumbled down the steps. "He needs you," Kay said. "And this way you have a rank, without having to learn to wield a sword. It was very clever. As well as being very considerate to the rest of us."

Merlin pulled away to glare at his friend, although a grin was threatening to break through. Kay turned to face him and Merlin sobered. "I, I worry," he said. "This is hard and Arthur... he needs...

Kay interrupted. "Arthur is my brother" he said. "We grew up together. We learnt how to be men together, although he out-paced me in that. I know him and you should not worry; what you have... It's good for him."

Merlin gazed up at him, this giant of a man. "Thank you," he said.

As counsellor, Merlin's position at the court sessions changed - most noticeably by the ten feet between his old post against the wall and his new place next to Arthur's throne. It also gave him a different view of the visitors to court, even if it didn't change his opinion of them.

"Lord Broga is a toad," Merlin said. He was lounging along the window seat in Gaius' workshop with his feet propped up against the wall in front of him. "That should be his coat of arms, instead of a swan." Gaius raised an eyebrow and Merlin grinned. "No, not literally. Although..."

"Merlin," Gaius said, sounding exactly as he had any time in the last five years, when he was afraid Merlin was going to do something rash.

"Well, he is," Merlin said again. "He's been here for eight weeks and he's managed to alienate all the servants, as well as raising mutterings among the town's folk. I saw him in the market, yesterday, and he took a shawl from Mother Ella's stall and refused to pay for it."

"So tell Arthur. He won't allow that to stand," Gaius suggested.

"I will. I meant to last night. Except we, we were talking about other things and..."

He trailed off, but Gaius contented himself with no more than a dry, "I'm sure you were," before turning back to his mortar, where he was grinding herbs for a fresh batch of the muscle liniment he prepared for Arthur and his knights. "You think none of the visiting lords are worth their salt."

"That's because most of them aren't. And he rode down Tom Tinker, outside the gates, when he arrived. Did I tell you about that?"

"Yes, Merlin, I believe you may have done. I say again, tell Arthur. In fact, why don't you go and do that right now and leave me-" He was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in," he called.

The door opened a crack and one of the kitchen boys squeezed through the gap. He hesitated, took two small steps into the room and bowed low. "Sorry to disturb you, Sir," he said, "but Mistress Gwen says would you be so kind as to come and look at Lady Gertrude, Sir? She's taken a fall."

"Oh dear, yes, of course." Gaius looked the boy up and down. "She's not in the kitchen, is she?" he asked.

"Oh, no, Sir. No. I was... I mean... No. She's in her room. Will that be all, sir?"

"Yes, that will be all. Thank you for bringing me the message. Tell Mistress Gwen I will be with her directly."

The boy grinned with obvious relief at having completed his task and fled.

"Gwen must have sent the first person she saw," Gaius muttered. He collected himself and asked, "Merlin, would you mind finishing this? It just needs mixing with the grease and putting in the jars, away from the air."

Merlin swung his feet down, stood and carefully took off his new jacket, laying it on the seat behind him. "I must be important now," he observed, "you never bothered to ask before." He picked up Gaius' medicines case. "Get away with you," he said, handing it over. "I can look after it before I have to be in Court."

"Reflected glory, that's all it is," Gaius said. He gave Merlin a wry smile, took the box from him and hurried out. Merlin rolled up his sleeves, spooned purified fat out of its big jar into a smaller bowl, set it above a flame to melt and went to find where Gaius had stored his new shipment of Portuguese cork in Merlin's old room.

A loud knocking at his chamber door woke Merlin a few mornings later. The servants were already aware that he was difficult to rouse but, judging by the evidence of his ears, whoever it was, was getting impatient. With a groan, he dragged himself free of the blankets and rolled into a sitting position on the edge of his bed. The mattress behind him was empty and the connecting door to Arthur's chamber was closed, so he grabbed his robe and threw it around his shoulders, struggling to get it on straight. Shoving his feet into his slippers, he hauled himself up, shuffled over to the door, unlocked and opened it.

A page stood to attention in the hallway, his gaze fixed somewhere in the vicinity of Merlin's left shoulder. "His Majesty's compliments and would you join him for breakfast, My Lord?" he announced.

Merlin wrapped his robe more tightly across his chest. "Yeah, sure," he said. "I'll be right there."

Nodding, the child bowed stiffly at the waist and marched smartly down the hall towards the backstairs to the kitchens. It was clear that, in his mind at least, the politely worded invitation was not a request that could be refused. Merlin closed the door and searched around the floor for his clothes.

An hour later, feeling well fed and content, Merlin watched as Arthur leaned back in his chair, rubbed his stomach in a satisfied manner and pushed the plate with the last crumbs of his breakfast away. "Thankfully, the staff know better than to enter the King's chambers before being bid," he said. "We overslept. It was only the knock on my chamber door that woke me."

Merlin glanced back at the door to his own room. "We did remember to leave it open, then?" he said. "I thought I felt you leave."

"Yes, Merlin, we did. And no, you didn't; you were dead to the world. But I was sitting in my own bed, as proper as you please when I bade him enter." Arthur's mouth twitched. "They're so young," he said. "I think the tray was almost as big as him."

"And did you get up to help him with it?"

"Of course not. Obedient and efficient service is still such a novelty, I enjoy watching it in action. He's here to learn to be a gentleman and how better than by waiting on the king? "

"Learning how to be rude and domineering, then?"

"Exactly."

A tap sounded on the door and Arthur called, "Enter." It opened and a member of the guard came in, bowed and marched smartly forward to hand Arthur a slim, leather case containing papers.

Arthur took it from him and nodded his thanks and dismissal. "Not much trouble with sorcery, lately," he said thoughtfully to Merlin. "It must be the good weather. I suppose people don't need to resort to such things when the snows have already gone and the season is building fair."

The guard bowed again and backed out of the room.

"What?" asked Merlin blankly.

Arthur smiled. "Just something I've noticed," he said.

"And you, what, felt the need to tempt providence?" Merlin asked.

Arthur's lips quirked. "Why yes, Merlin, I did," he said, opening the folder. He looked around at the table. "You wouldn't mind clearing that, would you?" he asked. "I need the space. I have papers to read."

"And you want me gone."

"Not want, but maybe, need you gone."

That afternoon, Merlin was almost late for Court. Bedwyr had dragged him down to the river to see a strange stone embedded in a rock, exposed by a landfall in the bank. He had insisted they borrow a hammer and chisel from the coppersmith, to chip it out. It took almost an hour of careful work, but eventually it came free - a spiral, small enough to lie in middle of Merlin's palm.

"I've seen things like that before," Bedwyr said. "The common people will say they are snakes, cursed into stone by the gods, but I always thought they looked more like snails."

Merlin gazed at it, turning it over to study the other side. "Thank you," he said looking up at the smile on Bedwyr's face. "I bet Gaius will be fascinated by this."

Bedwyr shrugged self-deprecatingly. "He's probably seen them before, too, but I thought you'd like it." He was about to say more, but the castle bell sounded to signal the gathering of the Court session. Merlin cast a panicked look up the hill and Bedwyr made shooing motions with his hands. "Go," he said. "Run."

Merlin ran.

Taking the steps from the courtyard two at a time, he slowed as he passed through the door into the entrance hall. Even so, he almost collided with two men standing closely together inside. Backing away, he gasped, "My apologies, My Lords."

Lord Broga turned and looked him up and down. "Ah, the King's jester," he said. His voice was cold and dismissive, but he stared at Merlin with a piercing gaze.

Lord Greagoir, Earl of Lamorak, turned too. He was a man of Uther's age, with a similarly upright, even rigid bearing. He glanced briefly at Merlin, but it was clear his attention was not to be wasted on peasants, no matter how elevated.

Merlin sketched a brief bow and continued on his way at a fast walk.

It was not until the Court was almost over that Edgar stepped forward. It was simply a matter of report, nothing, he obviously assumed, that required action. Mary was merely a servant, a chambermaid, unimportant.

"Murdered?" Arthur asked, his voice grim.

"So I'm told, Sire."

"When?"

"The Watch found her in the ditch under the walls this morning, Sire."

From his place behind and to the side of Arthur's throne, Merlin had a clear view of the hall, if not of Arthur's face, but he could read Arthur's body and voice. He waited for the moment when he should intervene and prevent Arthur's temper breaking over the poor man.

"Has Gaius seen her?" Arthur asked.

"Umm, I'm..." Edgar turned to his clerk who stepped neatly into the breach.

"Yes, Sire," Robert said. "He went down to the scene and examined her immediately. She was spotted from above and the sergeant sent for Gaius, before he knew she was already dead. It was Gaius who said it was murder."

Arthur nodded and Merlin relaxed.

"Ask Gaius to join us," Arthur ordered. "And while we wait, that market dispute you mentioned yesterday, has it been resolved?"

When Gaius arrived and bowed before Arthur, he looked older than he had when Merlin last saw him, only the day before.

"She was murdered, Sire," he confirmed. "There are bruise marks on her throat."

"Was there anything else?"

"Yes, Sire." He hesitated, as if unsure, not of the facts, but of the best way to convey them. As he usually did with Arthur, he fell back on the blunt truth. "Her bodice was torn, so I took the liberty of examining her more closely and it would appear that she was also violated."

A soft but pervasive in-drawing of breath greeted his announcement. Edgar, fool that he was, was hovering behind Gaius, shifting from foot to foot, and at this he stepped forward. "Sire, I protest, such treatment of the poor wretch is hardly seemly."

Gaius rounded on him. "Seemly?" he asked, his voice at last betraying his anger. "Seemly has no relevance. This girl was violated before her murder, then her body thrown from the walls." Visibly, he gathered himself and turned back to Arthur, saying more calmly, "It was chance that she landed on the bank, rather than in the water where evidence would have been washed away."

"Since the girl is dead, there is no way to know if she was violated, or not," Edgar objected. "We should not be bothering the King with such details."

At this Arthur stood up from his throne and took half a step forward to the edge of the dais. "Edgar," he said. "You served my father long and well. For that I thank you. I honour your loyalty to this court. So many years of service deserve recognition and reward."

Edgar dropped to his knees, crying, "My Lord! Sire, I meant no harm."

Arthur waited for a full count of ten, before he gravely nodded his head. "Your devotion is duly noted." Turning back to Gaius he asked, "Is there anything more you can tell us?"

Gaius waited for Edgar to stand and back away before answering. "Only that she was found under the east wall, Sire, where the guest house overlooks the river."

Arthur stiffened. "Under which window?" he asked.

"I believe that Lord Broga has the room immediately above," Gaius replied.

"Is that the only one?"

"There is one above that, Sire. That room is occupied, at the moment, by Lady Gertrude."

Since Lady Gertrude was eighty, if she was a day, and temporarily bed-ridden after her fall, she couldn't count high among the suspects for rape and murder. Arthur looked around the room. "Lord Broga," he said, with a small jerk of his head when he spotted him. "What say you?"

Pushing through the gathered courtiers, Lord Broga reached the clear space in which Gaius stood. "I do not feel the need to say anything, Sire," he replied, hitching his gown on his shoulders and running his hands down the fur trim on its edges, to expose the richly embroidered swan on his breast. "A serving wench? I know nothing of this, and care less."

Merlin smiled grimly to himself and exchanged a telling glance with Gaius. They would learn, soon enough, these nobles, that Uther was truly dead and gone.

"I care," Arthur replied with deceptive mildness.

Lord Broga appeared more uncomprehending than disbelieving. He turned his head to cast his eyes around the room. The rest of the court were staring fixedly at Arthur. "What did she look like?" he asked when he turned back, addressing his question in Gaius' general direction.

After a nod from Arthur, Gaius replied. "She was not easily missed or mistaken," he said, addressing Lord Broga directly for the first time. "Not tall. The top of her head might have reached no higher than your heart, My Lord. Her hair was pale, almost white. Her eyes were blue and she wore a brown dress with a blue apron." He looked up at Arthur and added, "She was fourteen years old."

For a moment Lord Broga looked horrified. His eyes flashed to Arthur and the fingers on both his hands twitched in turn. Then he relaxed and again smoothed his left hand down the fur trim on his chest, where his gown met.

Merlin stepped down to stand next to Gaius and turned to Arthur. "She was also kind and gentle and the only support to her mother and her two younger brothers, Sire."

Lord Broga looked across at him. "You had an interest?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

Arthur recaptured his attention. "You will find my Chief Counsellor knows everyone, Broga, and is much loved in Camelot. Did you know this girl?"

"I might have seen her, Sire, from your physician's description, but I deny any knowledge of her, beyond passing her in the halls." Turning to Gaius again, he said, "Even if my window is above the spot where she died, she could have got there by any number of means."

Nodding, Gaius agreed, "But there were no footprints in the mud around her and no mark from a boat coming in to the bank. From the state and position of the body, I believe she fell from a height."

"But who's to say she was strangled?" Lord Broga asked, his mouth pinched. "Who's to say she didn't jump to her death of her own will?"

"The bruises are there, Sire," Gaius said, addressing himself to Arthur, "and will become clearer with time."

"How long?" Arthur asked.

"I should be able to tell you more within a few hours, assuming she died last night, which I think she did, since the poor girl had already entered the state of stiffness that comes a few hours after death."

"Then this inquest is adjourned. It will be the first item of business tomorrow. Arthur looked around the hall. "Sir Kay," he called. "And Lord Isen. Go with Gaius and take note of all he says and shows you, so you can stand witness tomorrow." He turned back to Lord Broga. "Lord Broga, I would not wish to place a man of noble blood under guard, on no more than a possibility. Do you give your parole to stay in Camelot, at our pleasure?"

"Under guard?" Broga spluttered. "But, but this is preposterous. Over the death of a servant?"

"Over the murder of one of my household," Arthur said. "I will remind you that my father threw the King of Mercia in the dungeons."

"Over an attempt on your life."

"I am not my father. Do you give your parole?"

Under Arthur's gaze Lord Broga wilted. "I do, Sire," he said, bowing his head in acquiescence.

"Then this court is dismissed," said Arthur.

The assembled gathering cleared remarkably quickly, no doubt eager to gossip, away from the king's ear.

Having shed his court clothes for more comfortable wear, Arthur strode down the steps and into the courtyard, Merlin trailing behind, as usual. Arthur's horse, Bran, and Merlin's Tageth, were already waiting.

Arthur had lifted one foot to place it in the stirrup, when a disturbance by the gates appeared to catch his attention. Two soldiers in Camelot red were dragging an old woman between them. A gaggle of village folk trailed behind.

Standing back from Bran's side, Arthur nodded to Alwin, his groom, to take Bran and Tageth a few yards away. Meanwhile, he and Merlin retreated to the third step. Catching the sergeant's eye, Arthur gestured for him to approach.

The sergeant came forward and bowed his head to Arthur. "Sire," he said. "This woman has been arrested for the practice of sorcery."

"On what grounds?"

The other guard pushed the old woman forward. She staggered, fell and lay on her side, not moving.

"She is reported to have used spells and charms to encourage the trees in her orchard to fruit more, Sire," the sergeant said. He held up a crude knot of tangled threads, strung with crystals and wooden beads, much weathered but still recognisable as a charm.

"And what do her neighbours say?" asked Arthur, looking at the peasants and fixing on a middle-aged woman who was hovering on the edge of the group, wringing her hands in her apron. She came forward in a rush and fell to her knees. "Please, Sire," she cried. "She is my old mother and touched in the head. She means no harm. It's just for good luck, Sire. It's what people always did when she was a lass and she's like to a child herself, now. I beg you, have mercy."

Looking over her head to the rest of the villagers, Arthur asked, "And you, what do you, her neighbours, say?"

One by one the villagers came forward to support the woman's claims that her mother was touched in the head, but harmless. "Still good with a spindle," one young woman reported. "And happy to watch over the little ones, when we're out in the fields."

Arthur listened carefully to their testimony, smiling encouragement when they faltered. Once they had all had their turn, he nodded thoughtfully. He did not look at Merlin. "There is no case to answer here," he said. "The old woman is obviously not of her full wits. But even if she were, such charms are not of themselves evil. It is the intent and the result that matters. In this case, I see no intent to harm and no harm resulting." He waved his hand at the old woman and her daughter. "You are free to go," he said. "And, as long as I receive no reports of you using your charms for evil purposes, you are free to hang them in the trees, if that will help your orchard to prosper."

Merlin, who had been watching the old woman and trying to assess her for injuries, looked up in surprise and Arthur caught his eye, smiling in a way that did not touch his lips.

The guard stepped back from his charge and her daughter immediately scrambled forward to help her to her feet. "Thank you, Sire," she cried. "Thank you, thank you."

With a nod of acknowledgement, Arthur walked past her to where Bran was still waiting. After a moment of amazed hesitation, Merlin hurried after him.

During the ride through the streets towards the east gate, Arthur rode ahead and Merlin allowed him to do so. He spent his time looking around at the people, attempting to judge their mood from the way they watched Arthur. In the lower town, faded graffiti on the walls depicted Uther engaged in acts that would have got the artist executed, if Uther had known of it. It was almost reassuring that the only graffiti of Arthur showed him with his arms around other men's shoulders.

Beyond the gates, Arthur slowed to allow Merlin to catch up and they rode for about two miles in silence. When they passed through the village of Copthorne, Arthur exchanged some conversation with the village elders, while Merlin again hung back, a model of respectful observance. It was not until they had entered the woods beyond Copthorne that Merlin asked, "Are we actually going anywhere?"

Arthur smiled ruefully. "No, not really. I just wanted to get some fresh air."

"Ah, right. The castle is a bit crowded, isn't it?"

A signal on the reins brought Bran to a halt and Merlin pulled up Tageth at his side. "It's stabilising," Arthur said. "Most of the nobles are with me, especially the younger ones. But some of their fathers are still waiting. Thankfully, there are not many viable pretenders."

"Pretenders?"

"Connal, Lamorak. Even Blane could make a claim. But they all have too many enemies, themselves. If they won the crown, they'd have trouble holding on to it. I have the advantage there."

"And Morgana?"

"She is gone. If she married, her husband might try. But I don't think she would easily submit to wedded rule."

"She would rather usurp the throne by herself. You would hear, if she did get married, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, if she married a man powerful enough to support her claim, even if it were across the sea in Frankland, I would hear."

To change the subject away from a topic that caused Arthur's brows to draw together and his shoulders to drop, Merlin smiled and said, "The common people seem content. I don't think the Copthorne washerwoman would have given you a bunch of lavender, which I'm still carrying, you'll notice, if the populace was about to rise up in revolt."

That earned him a grin. "You smell lovely, dear," Arthur drawled.

Merlin snorted. He studied Arthur. "That was sort of brilliant, you know," he said. Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What you did. Before we left."

"I didn't do it just for you. There are rumours of magic in a number of the powerful families."

"I don't care; I'm still grateful." He paused, grinned again and with conscious cheer added, "And you just revoked your first law."

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