paperlegends Story - Line of Dance, part 2
For notes, see part one
Arthur threw back his head and laughed. "Yes, I did, didn't I?" he agreed. His face suddenly looked more relaxed than it had in weeks. As soon as he was back within the walls of Camelot he would be, once again, besieged by calls for his attention, but it was good to see the prince breaking free from the cage of the king, even if it was only for a short while.
Mary's body had been returned to her family for burial, by the time Merlin got back to Gaius' room, and Gaius was scrubbing at his table with grim determination. Merlin took the rag from his hands. "Let me," he said. "I've not forgotten how to clean your workshop in a few days." He started to wipe up the excess water Gaius had allowed to spread everywhere, swiped it over the edge of the table and back into its bucket. "You should get yourself another assistant."
Gaius slumped down on a stool, his hands hanging slackly between his knees. "I demonstrated the marks to the witnesses, so they can testify," he said. He looked up at Merlin. "Lord Isen surprised me by his questions. He's a more intelligent young man than you give him credit. And seemed to take his task seriously."
Merlin hurumphed. "He's rude and overbearing," he said, spreading sand across the table top and starting to scrub the surface in earnest. "You should have seen how he talked to John Ostler when he arrived. And all bows and smiles for Arthur, a moment later."
"He's young," Gaius said. "He can't have more than nineteen years to his name. And his own father died less than six months ago."
"Fine, I get that he's young. But I'll still wait and judge for myself, thanks."
Gaius gave a mock sniff. "My boy," he lamented. "All grown up."
Merlin threatened to throw the rag at him and grinned back, but he sobered when he asked, "Were you able to get anything more from Mary's body than you said in Court?"
Smoothing his robe over his knees. Gaius sighed. "Yes, the bruises on her neck and thighs were clear to see, by this afternoon. They were a man's hands. Bigger than mine. About the size of Lord Isen's. And there was a small cut where it appears a ring with a large stone had turned on his finger."
"Many men wear rings with large stones," Merlin observed, "although I can't remember if Lord Isen does."
"If he does, he didn't have it on today. His ring was a plain gold signet."
"Lord Broga will say that it's all circumstantial and the word of a commoner, against that of a noble."
"So he will. Which is, I suppose, why Arthur sent Sir Kay and Lord Isen to bear witness."
Merlin nodded and concentrated his efforts on a dark stain near the end of the table top. He'd managed to shift most of it before he paused and looked across at Gaius. "You really should get yourself another assistant."
Gaius smiled. "How could I find another to match you?" he asked.
Merlin's own smile grew into a grin and he returned to his scrubbing while Gaius chuckled and hauled himself to his feet to fetch the broom.
On his way back to his room to change for supper and, more importantly, to check that Arthur's best robes were set out and waiting for him, Merlin fell in with Sir Brolin, who accompanied him on his way. "For want of anything better to do," he said.
Together they turned the corner in the stairs and Lords Connal and Lamorak came into view in the hall below. So engrossed in their conversation were they, that they didn't see Brolin and Merlin until they were almost upon them. When they did, they broke apart.
Connal laughed and slapped Lamorak on the shoulder. "Very funny, My Lord," he said. "I'll be sure to tell Sir Huw that one."
He turned to Brolin and gave a slight bow. "Sir Brolin, it's good to see you, I was just asking Lamorak here about the king's new policy on witchcraft. The rumours are flying around the castle like wildfire. You were there, weren't you? Maybe you can enlighten me?"
Brolin frowned. "I was nearby, My Lord, and it seemed clear enough to me. No need for rumours. The king revoked his father's law against sorcery."
"So I heard, but I scarcely believed it. It seems... well, in truth, it seems rash. I understand that young men must make their mark, but you'll agree, such a gesture, it is a trifle extreme."
"I believe the king's judgement is that it is the intent and result of the act that must be judged a crime, rather than the use of magic, per se." Brolin turned to Merlin. "Do I have it right, Merlin?" he asked.
Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, Lord Connal interrupted. "Sir Brolin," he said. "Your word is quite enough for me. I feel fully informed as a result. Tell me, are you going to the hall? Maybe I could keep you company on the way?" He turned to Lord Lamorak. "I'll see you later, at supper, My Lord, and you can recount your amusing story to Sir Huw, yourself, yes?"
Meanwhile, Brolin looked to Merlin, who took a step back, saying, "I, I just remembered, I left my bag in Gaius' room," he said. "Don't concern yourself with me. You were heading to the hall, weren't you?"
"I was, but I'm not in any hurry, if you need a hand with anything?"
"No, no, I'll be fine. I'll see you later." He turned and hurried back the way they'd come, keeping his head high until he rounded the corner of the stairs.
That evening, Merlin paid particular attention to who sat where at the evening meal. He noted who spoke to whom and who was too engrossed in their conversations to listen to the minstrels and laugh at the jugglers. He saw how people mixed after the meal was over and the tables were pulled back to clear the centre of the floor for dancing.
Standing alone against the wall, he was watching the procession of couples down the length of the hall when Kay wandered over to stand next to him. He glanced up gratefully and smiled.
Kay nodded. "Not going to dance?" he asked.
Merlin shook his head. "It's all a bit too stately for me. I'd probably step on my partner's foot, if I could even find a partner willing to stand up with me."
"You have the King's favour," Kay said. "You might be surprised."
"I haven't seen you dancing, either," Merlin observed. He nodded over to where Lady Andrivete was sitting with her father. "And nor is your lady."
For a brave and fearless knight, Kay suddenly looked, and sounded, rather nervous. "Um, no, she's, she's not my lady."
Casting a sly glance up at him, Merlin said, "But you'd like her to be."
Kay hitched his belt and tugged at the hem of his tunic. He almost shuffled his feet, but he didn't say anything to contradict Merlin's assertion. "You should ask her," Merlin said. "Her father couldn't object to you. And she... I mean, even your father would approve."
"He would," Kay agreed. He was silent for a moment then he sighed. "She is beautiful," he said. "And sweet. And she runs her father's house admirably."
Merlin elbowed him in the ribs. "It's only a dance," he said. "You're not proposing marriage."
"How have you been here so long and remained so innocent?" Kay asked, rubbing at his side as if Merlin had actually hurt him. "It's never just a dance. This is the marriage market. If I ask her to dance, again, tonight... I'm not sure I'm ready to put myself up for sale."
"Ah." Merlin nodded. "So that bunch of flowers I saw you with, earlier, was not a gift for the Lady Andrivete?"
"Bugger off." Kay said, but he was smiling when he said it. He fell silent again and shortly after he left Merlin's side to wander in the general direction of Lord Blane and his beautiful daughter. Ten minutes later he was leading her into the dance.
Merlin wandered around the edge of the room, to where Brolin and Bedwyr were talking together. They seemed to be watching, with a degree of fixity, a young man who was proceeding down the dance with an exceedingly young lady on his arm.
Merlin joined them. "What are we watching?" he asked after a few minutes of silent contemplation.
Without looking away from the young man, Brolin explained, "Bedwyr has a bet with Dagonet that young Cas, there, will trip over his own feet, as soon as they start to Strip the Willow."
"Either that, or twirl the wrong partner and end up dancing with Kay," added Bedwyr. "Dago says he's not as bad as all that."
Merlin considered the young man. "So you are staring at him like this, to unnerve him enough that he does trip?"
Brolin cast him a quick glance before returning his fixed regard to the young man. "Just helping a friend," he said.
"Who is he?" Merlin asked.
"Lamorak's whelp," Bedwyr said, his tone causing Merlin to look at him sharply.
"You don't like him?" he asked.
"I'm not over fond of the stock he comes from."
At that moment the music shifted and Cas of Lamorak and his partner, as the top couple, linked arms to twirl on the spot. They broke apart to twirl once with their opposites in the second couple, before coming together again for a single turn in the middle. Breaking apart again, they began to weave their way down the set, spinning with each couple in turn and meeting to twirl once in the middle, in between.
All was fine, until halfway down the set Cas wrong-footed himself and missed the sixth lady entirely, leaving him stranded between the two lines and waiting for his partner. There was laughter from the other couples and Cas's face turned bright red. He kept his head down, watching his feet, for the rest of the dance and slunk away afterwards, towards a dark corner.
Bedwyr watched him go with a nostalgic smile. "By the gods, but I wouldn't be sixteen again for an earldom," he said.
Brolin laughed. "He'll get over it; he's a nice enough lad. He's not like his father. Speaking of which," he said looking at Merlin, "are you all right?"
"Why wouldn't he be?" Bedwyr asked, before Merlin could gather his wits to reply. "Who's been causing trouble?"
"Connal and Lamorak, the elder Lamorak, were being boorish earlier."
"To Merlin?"
"Hey, you two, I'm standing right here," Merlin said. "And I'm fine. I don't need two brave knights rushing to defend my honour. I'll get accustomed. And so will they." He looked from Brolin to Bedwyr and back again. "It's a compliment, really," he said wryly. "I was never important enough to be noticed before."
The dancing went on until well after the last light had faded from the windows. It was not until the hall began to grow uncomfortably hot and smoky from the torches that were lit around the walls, that Arthur signalled the conclusion of the celebrations by withdrawing. Merlin stayed to speak to Gwen, who was dousing the lights while servants damped down the fire and cleared the board, but then he followed. Big suppers and dances were all very well, but there would be a general feeling of relief among the inhabitants of the castle when all the visitors eventually decided to take their leave.
Arthur was true to his word and Mary's murder was the first item of business in the afternoon meeting of Court the next day. Arthur, coming straight from instructing his knights and bowmen in some new manoeuvre on the practice field, hurried into his chamber where Merlin was waiting for him. He strode in, snatched his crown from the table and jammed it on his head, before spinning around and attempting to leave.
Merlin thwarted his intent by staring at the latch until it clicked closed and then physically grabbing him by the back of his jerkin. "Sire, you can't go down like that."
Twisting around, Arthur scowled. "Merlin, unhand me," he demanded. "I can and I will. I'm late."
"You're the king; you can't be late," Merlin said, although he released his hold and held both hands up in the air, palms facing Arthur.
"Exactly. That's what I said. I set the time, so I need to be there."
As he pulled open the door, Merlin said, "Sure; if you want all your visitors to lose their respect for you."
Arthur's scowl deepened but he did pause and push the door closed again. He studied Merlin and seemed to be weighing his options. Merlin held his gaze, still with his hands raised in surrender. Arthur walked back into the room and Merlin came forward to meet him. He lifted the crown from Arthur's head and placed it back on the table. It was a circlet of gold, similar in form to the one Arthur wore as a prince, but set with precious stones and with rich enamel work around its rim. Merlin ran his hand over the design, feeling the tingle of power against the pads of his fingers.
Arthur dragged his jerkin and shirt over his head, dropping them on the floor. Hiding his smile, Merlin went to the wardrobe to fetch Arthur's formal, red gown, while Arthur toed off his boots and shed his breeches.
"I amaze myself, but I do still cling to the hope that one day you'll learn to treat your king with some respect," Arthur said, picking up the wet cloth hanging over the side of the bowl of water Merlin had placed ready and sponging himself down.
Merlin passed him a dry towel and then his clean shirt. "Even kings may dream, Sire," he said.
Once Arthur had pulled on his clean clothes, Merlin held up his robe for him to slip his arms into. He complied with a sigh, pulling the front closed and attempting to do it up.
Merlin smacked his hands away and took over tying the laces himself. "Keeping your court waiting is your privilege," he said. "Gwen told me so, so it must be true."
Arthur gave him an incredulous look. "Are you trying to tell me that Gwen said I should be late? Because I don't believe you."
"Not exactly. She said, 'punctuality is the duty of subjects and the politeness of kings'.” He looked into Arthur's eyes and smiled. Leaning forward a few inches, he pressed his lips to Arthur's, but pulled away before the kiss could develop into anything more. He stood back. "You'll do," he said. "Very kingly."
Arthur snorted. "Come along then," he said, leading the way out of the room.
The Great Hall was packed, news of the previous day's events having dragged in more curious sightseers. Merlin positioned himself to the side of the dais, where he could see both Arthur's face and the crowd.
There were many he still did not know, including visiting dignitaries from other kingdoms, come as ambassadors from their own kings. Lords Kenzie, Connal and Moren stood together. They were old friends of Uther and although they had not spent much time at court, of late years, they had been there often enough for Merlin to have observed them with Arthur. Lords Isen, Lamorak and Calan, the Earl of Haveshum Magna, were the most prominent new faces among those who owed allegiance to Camelot.
Having taken his seat, Arthur called Kay and Lord Isen forward and they recounted what they'd seen, much as Gaius had described it to Merlin the day before.
When they had finished, Arthur looked around and let out a huff of impatience. "Send for Lord Broga," he instructed. "He has a right to defend himself against these charges."
Lord Isen hesitated, took a noticeable breath and bowed slightly. "Does that mean you're charging him, Sire?" he asked.
Only the initiated would have recognised the flicker of surprise and Arthur quickly straightened both his expression and his shoulders. "Yes," he said. "The murder of any of Camelot's citizens is not to be tolerated, whether they be lord, freeman, or villein. The law will see justice."
Lord Isen bowed his acquiescence and Kay signalled to the sergeant and two guards, who hurried after him as he strode out. Lord Isen withdrew to the far side of the room, under the windows. Arthur caught Merlin's eye and signalled him to come closer.
"That is a revolutionary approach to the law," Merlin observed when he was near enough that no one else could hear.
With a slight smile and speaking equally quietly, Arthur said, "It's opportune. I need a gesture that clearly marks my difference. Lord Broga's holdings are not large, but they are strategic."
"I hope it won't come back and bite you in the future, this levelling of worth," Merlin murmured.
Arthur laughed softly. "Don't try to sound too wise, Merlin," he replied. "It doesn't suit you. You'll strain something and it might be something I want later."
Allowing himself a smile in return, Merlin asked, "My fine wit and intelligence, you mean?"
"Something like that," Arthur agreed. He became serious again and added, almost wearily, "No precedent is ever so clear that it can't be circumvented at need," then looked away around the room. Merlin responded to the unspoken request and stepped back a pace.
Time passed, but Arthur made no move to fill it with other business. Merlin studied the crowd, taking the opportunity to memorise more of the badges they wore on their shoulders and breasts: Lord BaIloch's oak tree on a blue ground, Lord Oran's griffin, Lord Isen's stooping eagle, Lord Connal's wren, Lord Lamorak's boar. Lord Lamorak was standing against the back wall, a slight smile on his lips, as if he found the proceedings amusing, which disappeared when Merlin accidentally caught his eye. Merlin gave him a slight bow, which he returned stiffly.
Lady Kenzie had edged her way to the front of the crowd, her hands on her young son's shoulders, pushing him to the fore. He was wearing his father's stag rampant, although it would be ten years before he was old enough bear arms in earnest.
Against the wall to the right of the dais, Gwen was standing next to a servant holding a large jug and she signalled Merlin to ask if she should send him forward. Merlin bent down to Arthur's ear. "Would you like some wine?" he asked. Arthur shook his head, without turning to look at him. Merlin grimaced at Gwen and she sent the servant away through the side door that led to the kitchens.
By the time they had waited for twenty minutes, even Arthur was beginning to look uncomfortable, although only those closest to him would have recognised the signs from the way his fingers tightened on the arms of his throne.
Finally, the great doors opened and Sir Kay strode back in. He marched up the Hall to stand in front of the dais and bowed. "Sire, Lord Broga is not in the castle," he reported. "He was seen leaving on horseback, at speed, mere moments before we went to find him." A muttering rose in the room. "I sent the men to track him," Kay said, "but his horse is fast. I doubt they'll catch him."
"Unfortunate," Arthur said. He looked around the room and stood. "Lord Broga has forced my hand" he announced. "By running he has proclaimed his guilt."
Among those gathered on the floor of the hall, heads nodded in agreement with his judgement.
Arthur raised his voice further, to reach the whole court. "He has declared himself a coward and a traitor. We will ride to flush him out of his hole." He waited for the first shock of new whispers to die down. "Sir Kay, Sir Leon," he said, "A word, if you would."
The rest of the court, recognising dismissal, began to trickle out of the Hall. Merlin glanced once at Arthur's face and followed the crowd.
Over the next three weeks, Merlin watched Arthur perform superhuman feats of endurance. He would get up before sunrise and brief his stewards while breaking his fast. As soon as it was light, he was out on the training field. Merlin still didn't understand what he was doing with his repetitive exercises, but it seemed to involve a lot of Arthur leading groups of knights on horseback, charging back and forth. It was not like in the tournament melee, where they rode at each other in two lines across a field. Arthur split his knights into small groups who rode in close formation. They thundered down the field and crashed through walls of wattle and stakes, after which they'd return to where they'd started while the makeshift barrier was repaired, only to do it all again.
On a clear spring morning in the second week, Merlin returned from gathering fresh herbs along the banks of the River Cama and a few hidden places, further into the forest. The narrow path was hemmed in on either side by hedgerows that were themselves supported by huge standard trees, so it was not until he reached the stile and had clambered over it onto the castle path that he saw Arthur leaning at his apparent ease against the low fence that separated the path from the water meadow.
Arthur was watching a tight group of eight knights charge up the field, with lances couched, into a line of shields mounted on poles. Merlin paused and propped himself beside him. The old wood was soft under his hands, weathered smooth by years of sun, wind and rain. A fly buzzed around his face and he swatted ineffectually at it. "Edgar says it will take ten or twelve more weeks to gather all the men and supplies required to support this enterprise," he said.
Arthur flashed him a quick smile before returning to his observation of his men. "Robert will make it ten. As soon as the sowing is done. But I've already sent out the call, telling the Lords that they are to come ahead of their men. I have work for them."
"This work?" Merlin asked. "What are they doing, anyway?"
Arthur nodded towards the mounted knights. "They are each accustomed to using a lance against another single knight. And they know how to ride against massed infantry, but now they're learning to act together, as one unit. The impact of eight or ten horse in close formation will be far greater than if they act alone. The ancients called them cataphracts. They will be my battering ram."
He watched as the knights crashed into the line of posts. "I need to talk to the armourers about better protection for the horses," he said.
Placing his hand on Merlin's shoulder, he gave it a squeeze, before vaulting over the fence and striding across the field to intercept the knights as they walked their horses back to their starting position.
Merlin shook his head in bewilderment and went to deliver the herbs to Gaius, and to see if he needed any help in preparing them.
After breakfast one morning a few days later, when Edgar had finally left, Arthur paused at the door to say, "There's a wind today, so I'm going to see the archers. Come with me?"
Merlin fell into step beside him and they wandered down towards the lower field. A large group of archers were already there, shooting from a distance at white bed sheets pegged out on the ground. "In combat, accurate archery is a huge advantage," Arthur said. "Clout shooting is the best way to instil good judgement of range and wind." He pointed towards a smaller group who were also shooting, in spite of the presence of a herd of cows between them and their target. "The Sergeant of Archers has the best over there."
"Isn't that dangerous?" Merlin asked. "For the cows, I mean."
Arthur grinned. "War is dangerous, Merlin," he said. "They have to hit the target, not the cows. If any of the cows is killed, the archer gets the carcass, but he has to compensate the herder for the loss. We've had very few cow casualties, all things considered, and they're getting better at hitting the targets, too. They will be my elite. The rest are learning to fire long, so they can harry the enemy's rear, but the best will be able to shoot at the enemy's front lines, even when our own men draw close.
Day after day, Arthur seemed to be everywhere at once, never stopping until evening fell. Only then would he retire indoors to receive reports from the manors and villages, and to begin the paperwork associated with gathering and supplying an army.
It was more than one man could do, even with Edgar's and Robert's expertise in their own areas. Merlin left Gaius to his gathering and cataloguing of medical supplies, to work on the papers in Arthur's room as soon as Arthur left in the morning. As the days went by, he learned to differentiate between what was important enough to refer to Arthur and what he could deal with himself. When Arthur returned, he would glance through the pile Merlin had marked as routine and concentrate on those reports Merlin referred to him. It was painstaking work - cross-referencing the offers of supplies from manors, farms and villages across the kingdom, reported by Edgar and Robert, with what Arthur said he would need, as his army grew and his plans began to take definite form. Even with Merlin's help, he was operating on only a few hours of sleep each night.
Slowly more men arrived in Camelot, sent by their lords in ones, twos and threes, as they could be spared from the land. The inns were full of those who could pay. Townsfolk rented out space in their homes and stables to others, while part of the castle undercroft was converted into a dormitory. The days lengthened as spring began to wax towards early summer and the sparrows' nest in the eaves above Merlin's window emptied and fell silent.
During the fifth week of preparations, Arthur dragged Merlin down to the field again, to see the improvements they had made in the ordering of the army's movements.
The herd of cows was gone. "Just as well," Merlin said, slapping his hand on the top of the crooked fence that seemed to have taken some damage over the weeks. "You'd lose a whole herd of them through here, if the field wasn't full of men to stop them." Arthur directed his attention to the activity in the meadow.
At the far end, a young boy blew a blast on a horn and a line of foot soldiers started to run across the field, their round shields held above their heads, towards a line of tall shields braced against posts and with their pointed bases stuck into the ground. A sergeant stood next to the boy, watching their movements with a critical eye. Another blast sent them running back the way they'd come and they returned to their starting place. The sergeant strode across to them and said something that Merlin couldn't hear.
"Watch this," Arthur said.
After a while, the sergeant retreated and the boy blew his horn again. The men started to run. When they were more than half way to the line of shields, a small knot of horsemen spurred into action and charged after them. The sergeant put his hand on the boy's shoulder and the boy blew again. Without slowing their pace, the foot soldiers spread apart, allowing the knights through. The knights galloped towards the line of shields and crashed into them, flattening most and sending some flying through the air. The foot soldiers followed, using their own shields to knock down any that remained standing.
Arthur left Merlin's side. "Good," he shouted. "That was well done. Now do it again."
Late one evening in the middle of the sixth week after Arthur's declaration of war, Merlin realised that he had just cancelled receipt of three tons of charcoal for the blacksmiths, instead of confirming it. In his attempts to correct his error, he splattered ink across the list he had spent the previous hour annotating.
Arthur, sitting opposite him, looked up and although his grin was tired, it was there. "Just when I think you have the makings of a half decent clerk," he observed, placing his own quill carefully on its stand.
"Sorry," Merlin said. He managed a twisted grin of his own. "I feel it's my duty to live down to your expectations." Placing his hands flat on the table top, he pushed himself to his feet. "I'll clean it once it's dry. I know where I was on the list." He reached across the desk. "My eyes are fuzzy and I'm making mistakes. Robert left two hours ago and you look exhausted. Come to bed. You'll be no good for anything, if a child can knock you over on the field tomorrow."
The expression of offence was fleeting. Arthur sighed and stretched his arms above his head, with his fingers linked. "Yes," he agreed when he'd relaxed and allowed them to fall again. He took Merlin's offered hand. "Yes."
Merlin walked around the desk. "I never realised that war was such hard work," he said.
Arthur allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He placed his free hand gently on the nape of Merlin's neck. "I fought in my first skirmish and killed my first man at fourteen. I led my first charge at fifteen and was my father's lieutenant at eighteen. I'm an old hand at this."
Merlin leaned forward to touch his forehead to Arthur's. "And I dream of the day when you will be free of that need," he said. "But that time isn't now, so come to bed, My Lord."
As he had hoped, that raised a smile. "So deferential," Arthur murmured.
"Only occasionally," Merlin said, stepping back towards the bedroom and pulling Arthur with him.
"Thank the gods," Arthur agreed.
Gwaine and Lancelot arrived together the next day. Merlin had left Arthur asleep, having unilaterally decided that he needed far more rest than he would willingly allow himself. He also cancelled Arthur's morning meeting with Edgar.
For himself, he retreated to the top of the tower that housed Gaius' workshop, in search of a quiet place to think. Standing, leaning against the battlements, he watched the sun rise over the hills to the south-east. The stone was cold under his hands but the air was fresh and clean and he breathed in deeply, enjoying the solitude.
.
He spotted the two horsemen from a distance and followed their progress with mild attention, while he made a mental list of his tasks for the day. They drew gradually closer until, just before they reached the town gates, he knew them. Spinning around he ran down the stairs to Arthur's rooms, where he found his king dressed and irritably shuffling through the papers on his desk, but his face lit up at Merlin's news.
Arthur met them at the foot of the steps, in the courtyard, just as they were dismounting from their tired horses. "Lancelot!" he cried.
Striding forward, he embraced Lancelot before Lancelot could bow, or kneel, or do anything except turn in surprise at the greeting. Arthur released him and turned to his companion. "And Gwaine?"
"My Lord," Gwaine said, bowing with a flourish.
"You put out the call within your borders," Lancelot explained." You can't imagine that it wasn't heard beyond them." Belatedly he also bowed and instead of straightening after, he went down on one knee before Arthur. Lifting his head he looked Arthur straight in the eyes. "My liege," he said. "If you'll have me."
Beside him, Gwaine also dropped to one knee and echoed, "My liege."
Visibly pleased, Arthur placed a hand on one of each of their shoulders. "I will have you and gladly," he said and raising his voice announced, "Arise as knights of Camelot."
As they clambered back to their feet, Merlin stepped up behind Arthur and Gwaine spotted him. His eyes lit up and Arthur turned to see what had caught his attention. "Ah, my Chief Counsellor," he said beckoning Merlin forward. Lancelot shot him a startled look but Gwaine merely grinned and engulfed Merlin in a bear hug.
When he released him, Lancelot's greeting was a more decorous double hand clasp, but Merlin wasn't having that and pulled him into a hug also.
Arthur took their arrival as a sign and instead of leaving them to settle and returning to his papers, he dragged them down to the water meadow where the sergeants and knights were still repeating the manoeuvres they'd been practising for weeks. Merlin watched them go and turned back to organise the stabling of their horses before going to find Gwen to ask her if there were any rooms free for two old friends.
That night, Arthur was more relaxed than Merlin had seen him in weeks. It was as if the arrival of the two reprobates had given him new energy. "They've been across the sea and fought in other lands," he explained, as Merlin chivvied him into his court dress. "They understand what I'm doing. I think I can give them each a command." He paused. "Certainly Lancelot."
When they entered the Great Hall, Gwaine was already at the far end, dressed in the uniform of Camelot. The gathered Knights made a proud sight in their red cloaks with their own arms, and the Camelot dragon, on their shoulders and breasts. Elsewhere, the room was filled with a rainbow of colours and a menagerie of arms.
Merlin scanned the room, looking for Gwen, but she was not yet there. As Castle Chatelaine, she would normally be among the first to arrive, having overseen the last minute arrangements, before completing a lightning change from apron to formal gown, but on this occasion she appeared to be late. Neither had Lancelot yet appeared.
Arthur took his seat, with Merlin on his right. The two chairs on his left were empty, but Gwaine came and sat next to Merlin. Merlin raised his eyebrows questioningly but before Gwaine or Arthur could explain, the great doors opened again and Lancelot appeared with Gwen on his arm.
They walked up the centre of the hall, a buzz of muted outrage and speculation following them. More than one great lord or lady watched with patent disapproval as Lancelot, now also resplendent in Camelot red, led the king's housekeeper to the top table.
Arthur stood to greet them, taking Gwen's hand across the board when she rose from her curtsy and leaning forward to raise it to his lips. She blushed and curtsied again while Lancelot grinned, looking as pleased as if he had just been granted his most ardent desire.
"Welcome, Sir Lancelot, Griffin Slayer," Arthur said for all to hear.
Lancelot led Gwen around the table and sat her in the leftmost of the two empty chairs, while he took the one between her and Arthur. "I did not kill the griffin, Sire," he said quietly.
Arthur smiled. "You may have had help, but you struck the blow. And you went against it, knowing it to be indestructible without the magic you did not know would come. I think the title is well-earned."
Since Arthur was engaged with Lancelot, allowing the court to absorb this change in precedence by ignoring it, Merlin turned to Gwaine. "You knew about this?" he asked.
Gwaine shrugged. "I heard him ask Arthur if he might bring her as his guest and I heard Arthur agree."
"He just out and asked?" Merlin said.
"I might have said something." Gwaine grinned. "You haven't had to put up with him and his maudlinism for the last six months. Too bloody noble. And no fun, besides. Full of tragic self-denial for the lady's own good. As if a blind man couldn't see where Arthur's heart lay."
Merlin placed a hand on Gwaine's forearm and gave it a squeeze. "I'm glad you did," he said.
He turned to his other side, to find that Arthur and Lancelot were already deep in talk, apparently continuing a conversation begun that afternoon. "How many battles have you fought?" Arthur asked. "Not single-handed, one-to-one fights, but full battles, with armies and a command structure and tactics decided and sent down from above, that must be followed?"
"I was at Peterton last year."
"On which side?"
Lancelot's smile was wry. "The losing one."
"I'd be interested in your impressions of Lunn," Arthur said with a grimace of sympathy." I heard it was a rout."
"It was."
"Tell me more. Was the victory a result of greater might, or did Lunn use some trick to fool your leaders."
"I think I can safely say that it was our lack of leaders that was our biggest problem."
Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "I still want to hear it..." He paused, "But maybe not right now. I think your lady needs to be rescued."
Merlin peered past them both, wondering which guest had the gall to try and victimise Gwen at the king's own table. He immediately saw the problem. Gwen was far from being picked on; the lady at her left had virtually turned her back in her eagerness to speak with her other neighbour. Lancelot acknowledged the command, and the permission. He picked up the wine flask from the table, pouring some into Gwen's cup and offered it to her. Soon they were conversing quietly, quite obviously in a world of their own.
Meanwhile, on Merlin's other side Gwaine seemed to have struck up an unlikely friendship with Leon. The wild-man-half-tamed, that was Gwaine, with sober Leon; it seemed an unlikely partnership, but half listening to their conversation while he talked to Arthur, Merlin thought that 'unlikely' might work.
Arthur did not sit up late. It was barely eight o'clock when he turned to Merlin and whispered, "I'm for bed. You won't be long?"
Merlin looked past Arthur and suggested, "I think we could persuade Lancelot and Gwen to leave with us, for appearance sake?"
Arthur nodded and turned to speak to Lancelot. The four of them stood and Arthur signalled everybody else to remain as they were. They left together, a group of old friends going to catch up on news in private.
Outside the hall, they were met by one of Edgar's junior clerks. "Sire," he said, bowing low. "A messenger has just arrived from the border."
"Bring him forth," Arthur said. A man in the leather armour of a common soldier stepped forward and went to one knee on the flags before him. Merlin, Lancelot and Gwen hung back, but close enough to hear.
"Sire," the soldier said. "I bring news from Escetia. Cenred has gathered an army. Two days ago he marched into Lord Broga's lands. No resistance was offered and he is now in the castle."
Arthur nodded. "I thank you for your speedy arrival," he said. "This is not unexpected. Tomorrow morning I want you to sit down with a clerk and let him record everything you have seen and everything you have gathered from your spies. But now, go with the sergeant and get some food and rest."
The man left and Arthur mounted the stairs to his rooms. Merlin, Lancelot and Gwen followed. He paused outside his door.
"Does this change anything, Sire?" Lancelot asked.
"No. Cenred would have challenged, soon, even without an invitation from Broga. But that is a concern for tomorrow, when we have the full reports. For now, my thanks to you both," he nodded to both Lancelot and Gwen, "for allowing me to escape the hall. Lancelot, meet with me for breakfast and bring Gwaine, Kay, Isen and Leon with you. We'll talk more then."
Lancelot and Merlin bowed and Gwen made a small curtsey. With a nod Arthur entered his room and closed the door behind him. Merlin walked with Gwen and Lancelot, the short distance to his own door, where he bid them goodnight. They replied in kind and he watched them walk away. This war would delay their union, since Lancelot was too in love with virtue to consider taking advantage of Gwen, even if she wished him to do so, but it was clear that when he returned, there would be a wedding.
On that thought, Merlin unlocked his door and entered. Once inside, with the key safely turned again, he hurried across the room and through the connecting door to Arthur's chamber.
Arthur was standing by the window, one foot on the window seat and his elbow braced on his knee. He'd shed his formal robes, but was otherwise still dressed. He straightened when Merlin approached and turned to him.
"Does this change anything?" Merlin asked.
"It is not wholly unexpected." Arthur shrugged ruefully. "But yes, it means that war with Escetia is upon us sooner than I had hoped."
"What if they stay holed up in Broga's castle. Are we able to lay a siege?
"Broga is deceiving himself, if he thinks Cenred has come to help him to the throne of Camelot. Cenred will persuade him to open battle. A siege would not see our defeat, since we could withdraw back here."
"But that would be bad?"
"That would be disastrous. If I had fifteen or twenty victories behind me, I could lift a siege and do myself no harm, but if I lose my first engagement? It would mark me as a weak king and the watching jackals would close in for the kill."
Arthur went over to his desk, picked up a parchment and put it down again without even glancing at it. He looked at Merlin from under his brows. "But Cenred would not get the whole kingdom for himself, if that happened. No, he knows that if Escetia can defeat Camelot on the open field, he can take it all. "
"You have no other option than to win, then," Merlin said.
"Which I fully intend to do. I have right on my side, after all and Justa bella ulciscuntur injuria"
"Just wars avenge injury? I suppose that's true, but it sounds like a quote."
Arthur grinned. "Well done. It is. A priest of the new religion, called Augustine of Hippo, said it."
"You've been reading about the new religion?" Merlin asked, pulling a face.
"I read everything I can. I was raised on the classics, but now I want to hear the new ideas, as well." He took Merlin's hand. "But that doesn't mean I am about to reject our traditional beliefs to embrace their teachings."
"Which traditional beliefs would those be?" Merlin asked, smiling. "Your Saxon ones, or the older ones the druids hold to?"
"I have room for both," Arthur replied. "If they are even very separate, after all this time. Why would I doubt them, when I share my bed with a manifestation of their truth?"
With a bark of laughter, Merlin asked, "Is that what I am?"
"What you are is a man who is keeping me from my rest with daytime talk," Arthur replied, crowding him towards the bedroom. "Leave it for now. Tomorrow is soon enough to concern ourselves with the implications of Escetia joining against us."
The next morning, Leon, Lancelot, Gwaine and Lord Isen gathered around the table in Arthur's office and Arthur locked eyes with each of them in turn, returning to settle on Lord Isen. "Isen, you come from those parts. Do you know the castle?"
"Yes, Sire, I know it well, but Broga won't wait there for us. He'll meet us at the borders of his lands."
"You're sure of that? He won't remain in his stronghold and wait to withstand a siege?"
"No, Sire. His richest land is on this side. And his major source of revenue, from the tolls he charges on trade. He won't want our army seizing that, so he'll not wait." He smiled. "In any case, I've known him since I was a child, our families being neighbours, for all that he is of my father's generation, and he's not patient enough. He never was."
Arthur nodded. "He can't move to meet us. That would be an open act of rebellion. Yes, by waiting at the border he can still claim that I am the aggressor and he an innocent man provoked into defending himself."
"I'm sure he thinks he can argue that case, afterwards, if he survives." Lord Isen did not voice the possibility of Lord Broga winning, but it was there in the air.
Arthur's voice was grimly amused. "Except, he's not going to need to argue his case."
"Of course not, Sire, although he doesn't know that yet." It seemed that Lord Isen knew how to turn a pretty line, to the people he felt worthy of it.
"Maps," Arthur said, going over to a shelf and pulling down a number of rolled parchments. "When Cenred besieged Camelot, I wasn't so occupied that I didn't see how he deployed. This day would have come. It comes sooner than I would have wished, but I'll not step back from the brink."
Merlin left them to their planning, since he knew there was little of use he could add. Instead, he went to his own room to spend the morning annotating lists and, when Arthur's meeting broke up and they all went down to the meadow, he spent the afternoon inspecting the stores again.
The expenditure required for mounting a war was phenomenal. That night he asked, "What about appeasement? You could save a lot of men and money by making peace."
Arthur frowned. "No, Merlin, I will not sue for peace. How can you suggest such a course?"
"Because people are whispering it behind your back and you should know that."
"Who?" Arthur asked. "Who is muttering about defeat, before we've taken one step beyond the town gates?"
Next part
Arthur threw back his head and laughed. "Yes, I did, didn't I?" he agreed. His face suddenly looked more relaxed than it had in weeks. As soon as he was back within the walls of Camelot he would be, once again, besieged by calls for his attention, but it was good to see the prince breaking free from the cage of the king, even if it was only for a short while.
Mary's body had been returned to her family for burial, by the time Merlin got back to Gaius' room, and Gaius was scrubbing at his table with grim determination. Merlin took the rag from his hands. "Let me," he said. "I've not forgotten how to clean your workshop in a few days." He started to wipe up the excess water Gaius had allowed to spread everywhere, swiped it over the edge of the table and back into its bucket. "You should get yourself another assistant."
Gaius slumped down on a stool, his hands hanging slackly between his knees. "I demonstrated the marks to the witnesses, so they can testify," he said. He looked up at Merlin. "Lord Isen surprised me by his questions. He's a more intelligent young man than you give him credit. And seemed to take his task seriously."
Merlin hurumphed. "He's rude and overbearing," he said, spreading sand across the table top and starting to scrub the surface in earnest. "You should have seen how he talked to John Ostler when he arrived. And all bows and smiles for Arthur, a moment later."
"He's young," Gaius said. "He can't have more than nineteen years to his name. And his own father died less than six months ago."
"Fine, I get that he's young. But I'll still wait and judge for myself, thanks."
Gaius gave a mock sniff. "My boy," he lamented. "All grown up."
Merlin threatened to throw the rag at him and grinned back, but he sobered when he asked, "Were you able to get anything more from Mary's body than you said in Court?"
Smoothing his robe over his knees. Gaius sighed. "Yes, the bruises on her neck and thighs were clear to see, by this afternoon. They were a man's hands. Bigger than mine. About the size of Lord Isen's. And there was a small cut where it appears a ring with a large stone had turned on his finger."
"Many men wear rings with large stones," Merlin observed, "although I can't remember if Lord Isen does."
"If he does, he didn't have it on today. His ring was a plain gold signet."
"Lord Broga will say that it's all circumstantial and the word of a commoner, against that of a noble."
"So he will. Which is, I suppose, why Arthur sent Sir Kay and Lord Isen to bear witness."
Merlin nodded and concentrated his efforts on a dark stain near the end of the table top. He'd managed to shift most of it before he paused and looked across at Gaius. "You really should get yourself another assistant."
Gaius smiled. "How could I find another to match you?" he asked.
Merlin's own smile grew into a grin and he returned to his scrubbing while Gaius chuckled and hauled himself to his feet to fetch the broom.
On his way back to his room to change for supper and, more importantly, to check that Arthur's best robes were set out and waiting for him, Merlin fell in with Sir Brolin, who accompanied him on his way. "For want of anything better to do," he said.
Together they turned the corner in the stairs and Lords Connal and Lamorak came into view in the hall below. So engrossed in their conversation were they, that they didn't see Brolin and Merlin until they were almost upon them. When they did, they broke apart.
Connal laughed and slapped Lamorak on the shoulder. "Very funny, My Lord," he said. "I'll be sure to tell Sir Huw that one."
He turned to Brolin and gave a slight bow. "Sir Brolin, it's good to see you, I was just asking Lamorak here about the king's new policy on witchcraft. The rumours are flying around the castle like wildfire. You were there, weren't you? Maybe you can enlighten me?"
Brolin frowned. "I was nearby, My Lord, and it seemed clear enough to me. No need for rumours. The king revoked his father's law against sorcery."
"So I heard, but I scarcely believed it. It seems... well, in truth, it seems rash. I understand that young men must make their mark, but you'll agree, such a gesture, it is a trifle extreme."
"I believe the king's judgement is that it is the intent and result of the act that must be judged a crime, rather than the use of magic, per se." Brolin turned to Merlin. "Do I have it right, Merlin?" he asked.
Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, Lord Connal interrupted. "Sir Brolin," he said. "Your word is quite enough for me. I feel fully informed as a result. Tell me, are you going to the hall? Maybe I could keep you company on the way?" He turned to Lord Lamorak. "I'll see you later, at supper, My Lord, and you can recount your amusing story to Sir Huw, yourself, yes?"
Meanwhile, Brolin looked to Merlin, who took a step back, saying, "I, I just remembered, I left my bag in Gaius' room," he said. "Don't concern yourself with me. You were heading to the hall, weren't you?"
"I was, but I'm not in any hurry, if you need a hand with anything?"
"No, no, I'll be fine. I'll see you later." He turned and hurried back the way they'd come, keeping his head high until he rounded the corner of the stairs.
That evening, Merlin paid particular attention to who sat where at the evening meal. He noted who spoke to whom and who was too engrossed in their conversations to listen to the minstrels and laugh at the jugglers. He saw how people mixed after the meal was over and the tables were pulled back to clear the centre of the floor for dancing.
Standing alone against the wall, he was watching the procession of couples down the length of the hall when Kay wandered over to stand next to him. He glanced up gratefully and smiled.
Kay nodded. "Not going to dance?" he asked.
Merlin shook his head. "It's all a bit too stately for me. I'd probably step on my partner's foot, if I could even find a partner willing to stand up with me."
"You have the King's favour," Kay said. "You might be surprised."
"I haven't seen you dancing, either," Merlin observed. He nodded over to where Lady Andrivete was sitting with her father. "And nor is your lady."
For a brave and fearless knight, Kay suddenly looked, and sounded, rather nervous. "Um, no, she's, she's not my lady."
Casting a sly glance up at him, Merlin said, "But you'd like her to be."
Kay hitched his belt and tugged at the hem of his tunic. He almost shuffled his feet, but he didn't say anything to contradict Merlin's assertion. "You should ask her," Merlin said. "Her father couldn't object to you. And she... I mean, even your father would approve."
"He would," Kay agreed. He was silent for a moment then he sighed. "She is beautiful," he said. "And sweet. And she runs her father's house admirably."
Merlin elbowed him in the ribs. "It's only a dance," he said. "You're not proposing marriage."
"How have you been here so long and remained so innocent?" Kay asked, rubbing at his side as if Merlin had actually hurt him. "It's never just a dance. This is the marriage market. If I ask her to dance, again, tonight... I'm not sure I'm ready to put myself up for sale."
"Ah." Merlin nodded. "So that bunch of flowers I saw you with, earlier, was not a gift for the Lady Andrivete?"
"Bugger off." Kay said, but he was smiling when he said it. He fell silent again and shortly after he left Merlin's side to wander in the general direction of Lord Blane and his beautiful daughter. Ten minutes later he was leading her into the dance.
Merlin wandered around the edge of the room, to where Brolin and Bedwyr were talking together. They seemed to be watching, with a degree of fixity, a young man who was proceeding down the dance with an exceedingly young lady on his arm.
Merlin joined them. "What are we watching?" he asked after a few minutes of silent contemplation.
Without looking away from the young man, Brolin explained, "Bedwyr has a bet with Dagonet that young Cas, there, will trip over his own feet, as soon as they start to Strip the Willow."
"Either that, or twirl the wrong partner and end up dancing with Kay," added Bedwyr. "Dago says he's not as bad as all that."
Merlin considered the young man. "So you are staring at him like this, to unnerve him enough that he does trip?"
Brolin cast him a quick glance before returning his fixed regard to the young man. "Just helping a friend," he said.
"Who is he?" Merlin asked.
"Lamorak's whelp," Bedwyr said, his tone causing Merlin to look at him sharply.
"You don't like him?" he asked.
"I'm not over fond of the stock he comes from."
At that moment the music shifted and Cas of Lamorak and his partner, as the top couple, linked arms to twirl on the spot. They broke apart to twirl once with their opposites in the second couple, before coming together again for a single turn in the middle. Breaking apart again, they began to weave their way down the set, spinning with each couple in turn and meeting to twirl once in the middle, in between.
All was fine, until halfway down the set Cas wrong-footed himself and missed the sixth lady entirely, leaving him stranded between the two lines and waiting for his partner. There was laughter from the other couples and Cas's face turned bright red. He kept his head down, watching his feet, for the rest of the dance and slunk away afterwards, towards a dark corner.
Bedwyr watched him go with a nostalgic smile. "By the gods, but I wouldn't be sixteen again for an earldom," he said.
Brolin laughed. "He'll get over it; he's a nice enough lad. He's not like his father. Speaking of which," he said looking at Merlin, "are you all right?"
"Why wouldn't he be?" Bedwyr asked, before Merlin could gather his wits to reply. "Who's been causing trouble?"
"Connal and Lamorak, the elder Lamorak, were being boorish earlier."
"To Merlin?"
"Hey, you two, I'm standing right here," Merlin said. "And I'm fine. I don't need two brave knights rushing to defend my honour. I'll get accustomed. And so will they." He looked from Brolin to Bedwyr and back again. "It's a compliment, really," he said wryly. "I was never important enough to be noticed before."
The dancing went on until well after the last light had faded from the windows. It was not until the hall began to grow uncomfortably hot and smoky from the torches that were lit around the walls, that Arthur signalled the conclusion of the celebrations by withdrawing. Merlin stayed to speak to Gwen, who was dousing the lights while servants damped down the fire and cleared the board, but then he followed. Big suppers and dances were all very well, but there would be a general feeling of relief among the inhabitants of the castle when all the visitors eventually decided to take their leave.
Arthur was true to his word and Mary's murder was the first item of business in the afternoon meeting of Court the next day. Arthur, coming straight from instructing his knights and bowmen in some new manoeuvre on the practice field, hurried into his chamber where Merlin was waiting for him. He strode in, snatched his crown from the table and jammed it on his head, before spinning around and attempting to leave.
Merlin thwarted his intent by staring at the latch until it clicked closed and then physically grabbing him by the back of his jerkin. "Sire, you can't go down like that."
Twisting around, Arthur scowled. "Merlin, unhand me," he demanded. "I can and I will. I'm late."
"You're the king; you can't be late," Merlin said, although he released his hold and held both hands up in the air, palms facing Arthur.
"Exactly. That's what I said. I set the time, so I need to be there."
As he pulled open the door, Merlin said, "Sure; if you want all your visitors to lose their respect for you."
Arthur's scowl deepened but he did pause and push the door closed again. He studied Merlin and seemed to be weighing his options. Merlin held his gaze, still with his hands raised in surrender. Arthur walked back into the room and Merlin came forward to meet him. He lifted the crown from Arthur's head and placed it back on the table. It was a circlet of gold, similar in form to the one Arthur wore as a prince, but set with precious stones and with rich enamel work around its rim. Merlin ran his hand over the design, feeling the tingle of power against the pads of his fingers.
Arthur dragged his jerkin and shirt over his head, dropping them on the floor. Hiding his smile, Merlin went to the wardrobe to fetch Arthur's formal, red gown, while Arthur toed off his boots and shed his breeches.
"I amaze myself, but I do still cling to the hope that one day you'll learn to treat your king with some respect," Arthur said, picking up the wet cloth hanging over the side of the bowl of water Merlin had placed ready and sponging himself down.
Merlin passed him a dry towel and then his clean shirt. "Even kings may dream, Sire," he said.
Once Arthur had pulled on his clean clothes, Merlin held up his robe for him to slip his arms into. He complied with a sigh, pulling the front closed and attempting to do it up.
Merlin smacked his hands away and took over tying the laces himself. "Keeping your court waiting is your privilege," he said. "Gwen told me so, so it must be true."
Arthur gave him an incredulous look. "Are you trying to tell me that Gwen said I should be late? Because I don't believe you."
"Not exactly. She said, 'punctuality is the duty of subjects and the politeness of kings'.” He looked into Arthur's eyes and smiled. Leaning forward a few inches, he pressed his lips to Arthur's, but pulled away before the kiss could develop into anything more. He stood back. "You'll do," he said. "Very kingly."
Arthur snorted. "Come along then," he said, leading the way out of the room.
The Great Hall was packed, news of the previous day's events having dragged in more curious sightseers. Merlin positioned himself to the side of the dais, where he could see both Arthur's face and the crowd.
There were many he still did not know, including visiting dignitaries from other kingdoms, come as ambassadors from their own kings. Lords Kenzie, Connal and Moren stood together. They were old friends of Uther and although they had not spent much time at court, of late years, they had been there often enough for Merlin to have observed them with Arthur. Lords Isen, Lamorak and Calan, the Earl of Haveshum Magna, were the most prominent new faces among those who owed allegiance to Camelot.
Having taken his seat, Arthur called Kay and Lord Isen forward and they recounted what they'd seen, much as Gaius had described it to Merlin the day before.
When they had finished, Arthur looked around and let out a huff of impatience. "Send for Lord Broga," he instructed. "He has a right to defend himself against these charges."
Lord Isen hesitated, took a noticeable breath and bowed slightly. "Does that mean you're charging him, Sire?" he asked.
Only the initiated would have recognised the flicker of surprise and Arthur quickly straightened both his expression and his shoulders. "Yes," he said. "The murder of any of Camelot's citizens is not to be tolerated, whether they be lord, freeman, or villein. The law will see justice."
Lord Isen bowed his acquiescence and Kay signalled to the sergeant and two guards, who hurried after him as he strode out. Lord Isen withdrew to the far side of the room, under the windows. Arthur caught Merlin's eye and signalled him to come closer.
"That is a revolutionary approach to the law," Merlin observed when he was near enough that no one else could hear.
With a slight smile and speaking equally quietly, Arthur said, "It's opportune. I need a gesture that clearly marks my difference. Lord Broga's holdings are not large, but they are strategic."
"I hope it won't come back and bite you in the future, this levelling of worth," Merlin murmured.
Arthur laughed softly. "Don't try to sound too wise, Merlin," he replied. "It doesn't suit you. You'll strain something and it might be something I want later."
Allowing himself a smile in return, Merlin asked, "My fine wit and intelligence, you mean?"
"Something like that," Arthur agreed. He became serious again and added, almost wearily, "No precedent is ever so clear that it can't be circumvented at need," then looked away around the room. Merlin responded to the unspoken request and stepped back a pace.
Time passed, but Arthur made no move to fill it with other business. Merlin studied the crowd, taking the opportunity to memorise more of the badges they wore on their shoulders and breasts: Lord BaIloch's oak tree on a blue ground, Lord Oran's griffin, Lord Isen's stooping eagle, Lord Connal's wren, Lord Lamorak's boar. Lord Lamorak was standing against the back wall, a slight smile on his lips, as if he found the proceedings amusing, which disappeared when Merlin accidentally caught his eye. Merlin gave him a slight bow, which he returned stiffly.
Lady Kenzie had edged her way to the front of the crowd, her hands on her young son's shoulders, pushing him to the fore. He was wearing his father's stag rampant, although it would be ten years before he was old enough bear arms in earnest.
Against the wall to the right of the dais, Gwen was standing next to a servant holding a large jug and she signalled Merlin to ask if she should send him forward. Merlin bent down to Arthur's ear. "Would you like some wine?" he asked. Arthur shook his head, without turning to look at him. Merlin grimaced at Gwen and she sent the servant away through the side door that led to the kitchens.
By the time they had waited for twenty minutes, even Arthur was beginning to look uncomfortable, although only those closest to him would have recognised the signs from the way his fingers tightened on the arms of his throne.
Finally, the great doors opened and Sir Kay strode back in. He marched up the Hall to stand in front of the dais and bowed. "Sire, Lord Broga is not in the castle," he reported. "He was seen leaving on horseback, at speed, mere moments before we went to find him." A muttering rose in the room. "I sent the men to track him," Kay said, "but his horse is fast. I doubt they'll catch him."
"Unfortunate," Arthur said. He looked around the room and stood. "Lord Broga has forced my hand" he announced. "By running he has proclaimed his guilt."
Among those gathered on the floor of the hall, heads nodded in agreement with his judgement.
Arthur raised his voice further, to reach the whole court. "He has declared himself a coward and a traitor. We will ride to flush him out of his hole." He waited for the first shock of new whispers to die down. "Sir Kay, Sir Leon," he said, "A word, if you would."
The rest of the court, recognising dismissal, began to trickle out of the Hall. Merlin glanced once at Arthur's face and followed the crowd.
Over the next three weeks, Merlin watched Arthur perform superhuman feats of endurance. He would get up before sunrise and brief his stewards while breaking his fast. As soon as it was light, he was out on the training field. Merlin still didn't understand what he was doing with his repetitive exercises, but it seemed to involve a lot of Arthur leading groups of knights on horseback, charging back and forth. It was not like in the tournament melee, where they rode at each other in two lines across a field. Arthur split his knights into small groups who rode in close formation. They thundered down the field and crashed through walls of wattle and stakes, after which they'd return to where they'd started while the makeshift barrier was repaired, only to do it all again.
On a clear spring morning in the second week, Merlin returned from gathering fresh herbs along the banks of the River Cama and a few hidden places, further into the forest. The narrow path was hemmed in on either side by hedgerows that were themselves supported by huge standard trees, so it was not until he reached the stile and had clambered over it onto the castle path that he saw Arthur leaning at his apparent ease against the low fence that separated the path from the water meadow.
Arthur was watching a tight group of eight knights charge up the field, with lances couched, into a line of shields mounted on poles. Merlin paused and propped himself beside him. The old wood was soft under his hands, weathered smooth by years of sun, wind and rain. A fly buzzed around his face and he swatted ineffectually at it. "Edgar says it will take ten or twelve more weeks to gather all the men and supplies required to support this enterprise," he said.
Arthur flashed him a quick smile before returning to his observation of his men. "Robert will make it ten. As soon as the sowing is done. But I've already sent out the call, telling the Lords that they are to come ahead of their men. I have work for them."
"This work?" Merlin asked. "What are they doing, anyway?"
Arthur nodded towards the mounted knights. "They are each accustomed to using a lance against another single knight. And they know how to ride against massed infantry, but now they're learning to act together, as one unit. The impact of eight or ten horse in close formation will be far greater than if they act alone. The ancients called them cataphracts. They will be my battering ram."
He watched as the knights crashed into the line of posts. "I need to talk to the armourers about better protection for the horses," he said.
Placing his hand on Merlin's shoulder, he gave it a squeeze, before vaulting over the fence and striding across the field to intercept the knights as they walked their horses back to their starting position.
Merlin shook his head in bewilderment and went to deliver the herbs to Gaius, and to see if he needed any help in preparing them.
After breakfast one morning a few days later, when Edgar had finally left, Arthur paused at the door to say, "There's a wind today, so I'm going to see the archers. Come with me?"
Merlin fell into step beside him and they wandered down towards the lower field. A large group of archers were already there, shooting from a distance at white bed sheets pegged out on the ground. "In combat, accurate archery is a huge advantage," Arthur said. "Clout shooting is the best way to instil good judgement of range and wind." He pointed towards a smaller group who were also shooting, in spite of the presence of a herd of cows between them and their target. "The Sergeant of Archers has the best over there."
"Isn't that dangerous?" Merlin asked. "For the cows, I mean."
Arthur grinned. "War is dangerous, Merlin," he said. "They have to hit the target, not the cows. If any of the cows is killed, the archer gets the carcass, but he has to compensate the herder for the loss. We've had very few cow casualties, all things considered, and they're getting better at hitting the targets, too. They will be my elite. The rest are learning to fire long, so they can harry the enemy's rear, but the best will be able to shoot at the enemy's front lines, even when our own men draw close.
Day after day, Arthur seemed to be everywhere at once, never stopping until evening fell. Only then would he retire indoors to receive reports from the manors and villages, and to begin the paperwork associated with gathering and supplying an army.
It was more than one man could do, even with Edgar's and Robert's expertise in their own areas. Merlin left Gaius to his gathering and cataloguing of medical supplies, to work on the papers in Arthur's room as soon as Arthur left in the morning. As the days went by, he learned to differentiate between what was important enough to refer to Arthur and what he could deal with himself. When Arthur returned, he would glance through the pile Merlin had marked as routine and concentrate on those reports Merlin referred to him. It was painstaking work - cross-referencing the offers of supplies from manors, farms and villages across the kingdom, reported by Edgar and Robert, with what Arthur said he would need, as his army grew and his plans began to take definite form. Even with Merlin's help, he was operating on only a few hours of sleep each night.
Slowly more men arrived in Camelot, sent by their lords in ones, twos and threes, as they could be spared from the land. The inns were full of those who could pay. Townsfolk rented out space in their homes and stables to others, while part of the castle undercroft was converted into a dormitory. The days lengthened as spring began to wax towards early summer and the sparrows' nest in the eaves above Merlin's window emptied and fell silent.
During the fifth week of preparations, Arthur dragged Merlin down to the field again, to see the improvements they had made in the ordering of the army's movements.
The herd of cows was gone. "Just as well," Merlin said, slapping his hand on the top of the crooked fence that seemed to have taken some damage over the weeks. "You'd lose a whole herd of them through here, if the field wasn't full of men to stop them." Arthur directed his attention to the activity in the meadow.
At the far end, a young boy blew a blast on a horn and a line of foot soldiers started to run across the field, their round shields held above their heads, towards a line of tall shields braced against posts and with their pointed bases stuck into the ground. A sergeant stood next to the boy, watching their movements with a critical eye. Another blast sent them running back the way they'd come and they returned to their starting place. The sergeant strode across to them and said something that Merlin couldn't hear.
"Watch this," Arthur said.
After a while, the sergeant retreated and the boy blew his horn again. The men started to run. When they were more than half way to the line of shields, a small knot of horsemen spurred into action and charged after them. The sergeant put his hand on the boy's shoulder and the boy blew again. Without slowing their pace, the foot soldiers spread apart, allowing the knights through. The knights galloped towards the line of shields and crashed into them, flattening most and sending some flying through the air. The foot soldiers followed, using their own shields to knock down any that remained standing.
Arthur left Merlin's side. "Good," he shouted. "That was well done. Now do it again."
Late one evening in the middle of the sixth week after Arthur's declaration of war, Merlin realised that he had just cancelled receipt of three tons of charcoal for the blacksmiths, instead of confirming it. In his attempts to correct his error, he splattered ink across the list he had spent the previous hour annotating.
Arthur, sitting opposite him, looked up and although his grin was tired, it was there. "Just when I think you have the makings of a half decent clerk," he observed, placing his own quill carefully on its stand.
"Sorry," Merlin said. He managed a twisted grin of his own. "I feel it's my duty to live down to your expectations." Placing his hands flat on the table top, he pushed himself to his feet. "I'll clean it once it's dry. I know where I was on the list." He reached across the desk. "My eyes are fuzzy and I'm making mistakes. Robert left two hours ago and you look exhausted. Come to bed. You'll be no good for anything, if a child can knock you over on the field tomorrow."
The expression of offence was fleeting. Arthur sighed and stretched his arms above his head, with his fingers linked. "Yes," he agreed when he'd relaxed and allowed them to fall again. He took Merlin's offered hand. "Yes."
Merlin walked around the desk. "I never realised that war was such hard work," he said.
Arthur allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He placed his free hand gently on the nape of Merlin's neck. "I fought in my first skirmish and killed my first man at fourteen. I led my first charge at fifteen and was my father's lieutenant at eighteen. I'm an old hand at this."
Merlin leaned forward to touch his forehead to Arthur's. "And I dream of the day when you will be free of that need," he said. "But that time isn't now, so come to bed, My Lord."
As he had hoped, that raised a smile. "So deferential," Arthur murmured.
"Only occasionally," Merlin said, stepping back towards the bedroom and pulling Arthur with him.
"Thank the gods," Arthur agreed.
Gwaine and Lancelot arrived together the next day. Merlin had left Arthur asleep, having unilaterally decided that he needed far more rest than he would willingly allow himself. He also cancelled Arthur's morning meeting with Edgar.
For himself, he retreated to the top of the tower that housed Gaius' workshop, in search of a quiet place to think. Standing, leaning against the battlements, he watched the sun rise over the hills to the south-east. The stone was cold under his hands but the air was fresh and clean and he breathed in deeply, enjoying the solitude.
.
He spotted the two horsemen from a distance and followed their progress with mild attention, while he made a mental list of his tasks for the day. They drew gradually closer until, just before they reached the town gates, he knew them. Spinning around he ran down the stairs to Arthur's rooms, where he found his king dressed and irritably shuffling through the papers on his desk, but his face lit up at Merlin's news.
Arthur met them at the foot of the steps, in the courtyard, just as they were dismounting from their tired horses. "Lancelot!" he cried.
Striding forward, he embraced Lancelot before Lancelot could bow, or kneel, or do anything except turn in surprise at the greeting. Arthur released him and turned to his companion. "And Gwaine?"
"My Lord," Gwaine said, bowing with a flourish.
"You put out the call within your borders," Lancelot explained." You can't imagine that it wasn't heard beyond them." Belatedly he also bowed and instead of straightening after, he went down on one knee before Arthur. Lifting his head he looked Arthur straight in the eyes. "My liege," he said. "If you'll have me."
Beside him, Gwaine also dropped to one knee and echoed, "My liege."
Visibly pleased, Arthur placed a hand on one of each of their shoulders. "I will have you and gladly," he said and raising his voice announced, "Arise as knights of Camelot."
As they clambered back to their feet, Merlin stepped up behind Arthur and Gwaine spotted him. His eyes lit up and Arthur turned to see what had caught his attention. "Ah, my Chief Counsellor," he said beckoning Merlin forward. Lancelot shot him a startled look but Gwaine merely grinned and engulfed Merlin in a bear hug.
When he released him, Lancelot's greeting was a more decorous double hand clasp, but Merlin wasn't having that and pulled him into a hug also.
Arthur took their arrival as a sign and instead of leaving them to settle and returning to his papers, he dragged them down to the water meadow where the sergeants and knights were still repeating the manoeuvres they'd been practising for weeks. Merlin watched them go and turned back to organise the stabling of their horses before going to find Gwen to ask her if there were any rooms free for two old friends.
That night, Arthur was more relaxed than Merlin had seen him in weeks. It was as if the arrival of the two reprobates had given him new energy. "They've been across the sea and fought in other lands," he explained, as Merlin chivvied him into his court dress. "They understand what I'm doing. I think I can give them each a command." He paused. "Certainly Lancelot."
When they entered the Great Hall, Gwaine was already at the far end, dressed in the uniform of Camelot. The gathered Knights made a proud sight in their red cloaks with their own arms, and the Camelot dragon, on their shoulders and breasts. Elsewhere, the room was filled with a rainbow of colours and a menagerie of arms.
Merlin scanned the room, looking for Gwen, but she was not yet there. As Castle Chatelaine, she would normally be among the first to arrive, having overseen the last minute arrangements, before completing a lightning change from apron to formal gown, but on this occasion she appeared to be late. Neither had Lancelot yet appeared.
Arthur took his seat, with Merlin on his right. The two chairs on his left were empty, but Gwaine came and sat next to Merlin. Merlin raised his eyebrows questioningly but before Gwaine or Arthur could explain, the great doors opened again and Lancelot appeared with Gwen on his arm.
They walked up the centre of the hall, a buzz of muted outrage and speculation following them. More than one great lord or lady watched with patent disapproval as Lancelot, now also resplendent in Camelot red, led the king's housekeeper to the top table.
Arthur stood to greet them, taking Gwen's hand across the board when she rose from her curtsy and leaning forward to raise it to his lips. She blushed and curtsied again while Lancelot grinned, looking as pleased as if he had just been granted his most ardent desire.
"Welcome, Sir Lancelot, Griffin Slayer," Arthur said for all to hear.
Lancelot led Gwen around the table and sat her in the leftmost of the two empty chairs, while he took the one between her and Arthur. "I did not kill the griffin, Sire," he said quietly.
Arthur smiled. "You may have had help, but you struck the blow. And you went against it, knowing it to be indestructible without the magic you did not know would come. I think the title is well-earned."
Since Arthur was engaged with Lancelot, allowing the court to absorb this change in precedence by ignoring it, Merlin turned to Gwaine. "You knew about this?" he asked.
Gwaine shrugged. "I heard him ask Arthur if he might bring her as his guest and I heard Arthur agree."
"He just out and asked?" Merlin said.
"I might have said something." Gwaine grinned. "You haven't had to put up with him and his maudlinism for the last six months. Too bloody noble. And no fun, besides. Full of tragic self-denial for the lady's own good. As if a blind man couldn't see where Arthur's heart lay."
Merlin placed a hand on Gwaine's forearm and gave it a squeeze. "I'm glad you did," he said.
He turned to his other side, to find that Arthur and Lancelot were already deep in talk, apparently continuing a conversation begun that afternoon. "How many battles have you fought?" Arthur asked. "Not single-handed, one-to-one fights, but full battles, with armies and a command structure and tactics decided and sent down from above, that must be followed?"
"I was at Peterton last year."
"On which side?"
Lancelot's smile was wry. "The losing one."
"I'd be interested in your impressions of Lunn," Arthur said with a grimace of sympathy." I heard it was a rout."
"It was."
"Tell me more. Was the victory a result of greater might, or did Lunn use some trick to fool your leaders."
"I think I can safely say that it was our lack of leaders that was our biggest problem."
Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "I still want to hear it..." He paused, "But maybe not right now. I think your lady needs to be rescued."
Merlin peered past them both, wondering which guest had the gall to try and victimise Gwen at the king's own table. He immediately saw the problem. Gwen was far from being picked on; the lady at her left had virtually turned her back in her eagerness to speak with her other neighbour. Lancelot acknowledged the command, and the permission. He picked up the wine flask from the table, pouring some into Gwen's cup and offered it to her. Soon they were conversing quietly, quite obviously in a world of their own.
Meanwhile, on Merlin's other side Gwaine seemed to have struck up an unlikely friendship with Leon. The wild-man-half-tamed, that was Gwaine, with sober Leon; it seemed an unlikely partnership, but half listening to their conversation while he talked to Arthur, Merlin thought that 'unlikely' might work.
Arthur did not sit up late. It was barely eight o'clock when he turned to Merlin and whispered, "I'm for bed. You won't be long?"
Merlin looked past Arthur and suggested, "I think we could persuade Lancelot and Gwen to leave with us, for appearance sake?"
Arthur nodded and turned to speak to Lancelot. The four of them stood and Arthur signalled everybody else to remain as they were. They left together, a group of old friends going to catch up on news in private.
Outside the hall, they were met by one of Edgar's junior clerks. "Sire," he said, bowing low. "A messenger has just arrived from the border."
"Bring him forth," Arthur said. A man in the leather armour of a common soldier stepped forward and went to one knee on the flags before him. Merlin, Lancelot and Gwen hung back, but close enough to hear.
"Sire," the soldier said. "I bring news from Escetia. Cenred has gathered an army. Two days ago he marched into Lord Broga's lands. No resistance was offered and he is now in the castle."
Arthur nodded. "I thank you for your speedy arrival," he said. "This is not unexpected. Tomorrow morning I want you to sit down with a clerk and let him record everything you have seen and everything you have gathered from your spies. But now, go with the sergeant and get some food and rest."
The man left and Arthur mounted the stairs to his rooms. Merlin, Lancelot and Gwen followed. He paused outside his door.
"Does this change anything, Sire?" Lancelot asked.
"No. Cenred would have challenged, soon, even without an invitation from Broga. But that is a concern for tomorrow, when we have the full reports. For now, my thanks to you both," he nodded to both Lancelot and Gwen, "for allowing me to escape the hall. Lancelot, meet with me for breakfast and bring Gwaine, Kay, Isen and Leon with you. We'll talk more then."
Lancelot and Merlin bowed and Gwen made a small curtsey. With a nod Arthur entered his room and closed the door behind him. Merlin walked with Gwen and Lancelot, the short distance to his own door, where he bid them goodnight. They replied in kind and he watched them walk away. This war would delay their union, since Lancelot was too in love with virtue to consider taking advantage of Gwen, even if she wished him to do so, but it was clear that when he returned, there would be a wedding.
On that thought, Merlin unlocked his door and entered. Once inside, with the key safely turned again, he hurried across the room and through the connecting door to Arthur's chamber.
Arthur was standing by the window, one foot on the window seat and his elbow braced on his knee. He'd shed his formal robes, but was otherwise still dressed. He straightened when Merlin approached and turned to him.
"Does this change anything?" Merlin asked.
"It is not wholly unexpected." Arthur shrugged ruefully. "But yes, it means that war with Escetia is upon us sooner than I had hoped."
"What if they stay holed up in Broga's castle. Are we able to lay a siege?
"Broga is deceiving himself, if he thinks Cenred has come to help him to the throne of Camelot. Cenred will persuade him to open battle. A siege would not see our defeat, since we could withdraw back here."
"But that would be bad?"
"That would be disastrous. If I had fifteen or twenty victories behind me, I could lift a siege and do myself no harm, but if I lose my first engagement? It would mark me as a weak king and the watching jackals would close in for the kill."
Arthur went over to his desk, picked up a parchment and put it down again without even glancing at it. He looked at Merlin from under his brows. "But Cenred would not get the whole kingdom for himself, if that happened. No, he knows that if Escetia can defeat Camelot on the open field, he can take it all. "
"You have no other option than to win, then," Merlin said.
"Which I fully intend to do. I have right on my side, after all and Justa bella ulciscuntur injuria"
"Just wars avenge injury? I suppose that's true, but it sounds like a quote."
Arthur grinned. "Well done. It is. A priest of the new religion, called Augustine of Hippo, said it."
"You've been reading about the new religion?" Merlin asked, pulling a face.
"I read everything I can. I was raised on the classics, but now I want to hear the new ideas, as well." He took Merlin's hand. "But that doesn't mean I am about to reject our traditional beliefs to embrace their teachings."
"Which traditional beliefs would those be?" Merlin asked, smiling. "Your Saxon ones, or the older ones the druids hold to?"
"I have room for both," Arthur replied. "If they are even very separate, after all this time. Why would I doubt them, when I share my bed with a manifestation of their truth?"
With a bark of laughter, Merlin asked, "Is that what I am?"
"What you are is a man who is keeping me from my rest with daytime talk," Arthur replied, crowding him towards the bedroom. "Leave it for now. Tomorrow is soon enough to concern ourselves with the implications of Escetia joining against us."
The next morning, Leon, Lancelot, Gwaine and Lord Isen gathered around the table in Arthur's office and Arthur locked eyes with each of them in turn, returning to settle on Lord Isen. "Isen, you come from those parts. Do you know the castle?"
"Yes, Sire, I know it well, but Broga won't wait there for us. He'll meet us at the borders of his lands."
"You're sure of that? He won't remain in his stronghold and wait to withstand a siege?"
"No, Sire. His richest land is on this side. And his major source of revenue, from the tolls he charges on trade. He won't want our army seizing that, so he'll not wait." He smiled. "In any case, I've known him since I was a child, our families being neighbours, for all that he is of my father's generation, and he's not patient enough. He never was."
Arthur nodded. "He can't move to meet us. That would be an open act of rebellion. Yes, by waiting at the border he can still claim that I am the aggressor and he an innocent man provoked into defending himself."
"I'm sure he thinks he can argue that case, afterwards, if he survives." Lord Isen did not voice the possibility of Lord Broga winning, but it was there in the air.
Arthur's voice was grimly amused. "Except, he's not going to need to argue his case."
"Of course not, Sire, although he doesn't know that yet." It seemed that Lord Isen knew how to turn a pretty line, to the people he felt worthy of it.
"Maps," Arthur said, going over to a shelf and pulling down a number of rolled parchments. "When Cenred besieged Camelot, I wasn't so occupied that I didn't see how he deployed. This day would have come. It comes sooner than I would have wished, but I'll not step back from the brink."
Merlin left them to their planning, since he knew there was little of use he could add. Instead, he went to his own room to spend the morning annotating lists and, when Arthur's meeting broke up and they all went down to the meadow, he spent the afternoon inspecting the stores again.
The expenditure required for mounting a war was phenomenal. That night he asked, "What about appeasement? You could save a lot of men and money by making peace."
Arthur frowned. "No, Merlin, I will not sue for peace. How can you suggest such a course?"
"Because people are whispering it behind your back and you should know that."
"Who?" Arthur asked. "Who is muttering about defeat, before we've taken one step beyond the town gates?"
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