The King of Wessex was a magician. Everyone knew that; most accepted it. He wasn't a very good magician. He didn't do magic very often, for fear it would go wrong, and embarrass him in public. The last time that had happened, all the artists in the kingdom had taken great pleasure in reproducing the incident, and people still joked that his face had retained the colour of a beetroot. Anyway, the King of Wessex was a magician, and this was known far and wide.

He could usually be found in his study, a book of magic to one side of him, and important court documents to the other. Sometimes he wrote spells on the court documents. Nobody minded (much). On this particular day he was writing the mandate for the execution of a traitor, while simultaneously learning how to bring inanimate objects to life. He thought it might balance it out a bit.

He was interrupted by the appearance of his servant, a dull young man who was loyal to him beyond words, who announced the arrival of a message, and presented him with a scroll.

The King of Wessex read through the missive, and his brow furrowed violently. He glanced at his servant. The boy never showed much interest in anything, but there was a vaguely questioning look in his eyes at present. The message was important. The king decided that his servant should know what it concerned.

'Uther Pendragon is the new king of Camelot.'

'Very good, sire.'

'Very good? Do you not realise –' The King caught his tongue. 'I don't like him.'

'Very good, sire.'

'Is that all you can say?'

'No, sire.'

'Hum. Well, I haven't seen Uther for some years now, but I remember him, and I've heard things about him. He doesn't like people like me.'

'Sire?'

'Magicians. Sorcerers. Anyone using the ancient arts.'

'I did not realise that, sire.'

'Few do.'

'Has he not consulted with magicians before now, sire?'

The King of Wessex leaned back in his seat, looking moderately satisfied despite everything. 'He pretends to be on their side. Everyone sees that side of him. Often consulting with magicians. Friendly with Nimueh. And if this letter's anything to go by, he's appointed magicians to important court positions. Gaius, for example. Good man, that Gaius.' He drew a deep breath. 'But. It's all an act. He's suspicious of us. I can see that. He is willing to exploit magic, but he doesn't trust it. Thinks that because we're capable of dark magic, we all use it, in secret.'

'You speculate, sire, surely.'

'Hum? Speculate?' The King frowned. 'Perhaps I do. But I'm right, I know I'm right. You'll see. You'll see.'