TRAVELER

It was said that no city was as vast nor as splendid as Camelot. It stretched across the plain as far as the eye could see, shining under the sun as if it were made of ice and frost.

The castle rose at its center like a white arrow, the scarlet oriflammes flapping in the wind at the top of the tall towers. The houses of the noble families were built along the road that went gently circling down to the town at the feet of the castle. They were grandiose, with marble arches, marvelously carved gargoyles, silk banners floating proudly and a swarm of servants in colorful liveries.

The streets were wide, paved and clean. Beneath the blue slate roofs were cooing pigeons and the air was always filled with a thousand pleasant smells: crispy bread just out of the oven, flowers still wet from dew, roasting meat, lavender wreaths and new leather boots, fresh laundry hanging across the streets over the heads of the passers-by.

Well-stocked stalls opened their shutters all along the main road that wound through the city for miles. People haggled and hailed each other. Here, they emptied a pint of ale while glancing at pretty girls, there they pulled out a large piece of cloth to cut it out. Further down, they were making a sturdy horse trot around to examine his hocks, a blacksmith was hammering hot iron, a crowd was watching a marvelous display of magic, children were slipping their hands in a wooden cage to touch the silky fur of a baby griffin caught in the enchanted Valley of Nemeth in the West.

Beyond the big gates of the city, when you left the ramparts behind and reached the first watch-point, the road split into three directions: the first led to the busy ports of Mercia on the glorious shores of the Great Sea in the South, the second to Essetir and the lush and mystical green forests of the East, the last one to the Kingdom of Caerleon, beyond the dark Northern Mountains.

Uther Pendragon ruled over Camelot. He was feared by his enemies and by his people. He had taken power forty years earlier during a bloody rebellion and sat on the throne after forcefully marrying his predecessor's niece. Under his iron glove, the country was prosperous and at peace.

Queen Ygraine had given her husband five sons and two daughters.

The eldest of the princes was called Leon. A living image of chivalry, he was working tirelessly for the good of the kingdom, with wisdom beyond his years. While the ministers sought to escape the king's wrath by concealing the truth when they made mistakes, Leon never hesitated to speak openly before his father, to denounce abuses or ask for reforms. The people of Camelot worshiped him and there were no girls who did not secretly dream of being loved by him.

The second prince was called Alined. His face was pale and blotted by excesses, his eyes narrow and yellowish. He had a high-pitched voice, a weak chin and was only interested in himself. His greed and appetite for pleasures were well known, and the results of his cruelty had needed sometimes to be smothered by a few gold coins. Although the king felt slightly annoyed in his presence, Alined, with his swivel tongue and his acting skills, could get away with almost everything.

The third prince was called Morgan. It was said of him that he was as handsome as a woman with his lithe waist, his delicate features, his long wavy ebony hair, his porcelain skin and his crystal-gray eyes – but he was also often compared to a cold marble statue. His lips were always pursed, he had very few friends and was terribly jealous of his older brothers – Leon for the love the people had for him, Alined because of their father's obvious indulgence. Morgan was constantly looking for a way to prove his worth. He was the only prince to master magic, which made the king wary of him and made him treat his son with little affection.

The fourth prince was called Mordred. He was born hunchbacked and lame, with a pale complexion like that of a dead man and unnatural eerie blue eyes that often made people uncomfortable. Rumor had it that the king, in a fit of rage, had thrown his wife down a flight of stairs during her pregnancy and that the child had been born malformed because of it. Uther Pendragon, in any case, did not like to see him or talk to him. Mordred did not seem to care about it and spent his time buried in the library of the castle, studying and reading.

The fifth prince, the youngest, was called Arthur. He adored Leon and followed him everywhere, mirroring all of his actions and speeches. If he did not have an ounce of magic, Arthur though was the most skilled among his brothers with a sword. Courageous but a little too impetuous, in his desire to make justice prevail and to save the widow and the orphan, he often drew toward himself the wrath of the king with an imprudent word. Fortunately, Leon came to his rescue each time and diverted the conversation before their father became angry.

The two princesses were very different as well.

The eldest one was named Morgause. Blonde, voluptuous, her lips a bright red, she was very beautiful, but haughty, calculating and very ambitious. The king never went against her wishes because he feared the excessive rage of his daughter during which, unleashing her magic, she could destroy a year's harvests. Morgause entertained a whole court of admirers who would have damned themselves for her, never choosing any of them but demanding from them a servile obedience to the least of her whims.

The youngest princess was named Freyja. She was much less pretty than her sister, with a mane of chestnut hair, freckles and caring brown eyes who laughed all the time. She loved to fight, to ride, to wade in mud pools looking for frogs or fireflies. She treated everyone the same way, noble or servant, and did not hesitate to meddle with the problems of the poorest, so the people loved her immensely. Although her parents could not make her see reason – the Queen often lamented of their younger daughter's escapades down town or of the huge tame panther that followed her everywhere and terrorized the courtiers – the King never managed to stay angry at his favorite daughter.

Prince Leon, Arthur, and Princess Freyja were keeping company to fourth Prince Mordred when bad weather kept them in the castle, but on sunny days, they went to visit the Earl of Ealdor, Lord Balinor, the commander-in-chief of the Royal Army.

The Earl's son, Emrys, had been knighted at a very young age. There was no one else like him in a hundred leagues around. As comfortable with a sword as with his fists, able to ward off a magic teeming with golden sparks that could ravage the battlefield like a phoenix, amazing rider, fearless, insolent but with a generous and brave heart, it was said of him that he could talk to dragons, sleep on ice and that his intelligence had no equal in the five kingdoms.

Emrys had sparkling blue eyes, a mop of unruly dark curls and a bright big smile always on his somewhat angular face. Since he was a few inches taller than Arthur, he seemed frailer, but the blond prince, although stocky and strong like a bear, did not always succeed in defeating him in single combat. Both were of the same age.

There was not the slightest difference between them, even though one was a soldier's son and the other a king's son. Since they were children, they had always been together: they had studied side by side, competed in archery, horse-riding and sword duels, had been punished as one when they were mischievous children and served many times in the army, saving each other's life on multiple occasions. They had no secrets for each other. They seldom fought for real but always reconciled, and had sworn to be friends all their life.

Freyja was always with those two. She was as strong as they were with a sword and she was never the last to get into trouble.

Uther Pendragon and the Earl of Ealdor had decided that when they were older, they would marry Emrys and Freyja – everyone thought this idea absolutely perfect, especially Arthur, who would always have his favorite little sister and his best friend by his side.

Lord Balinor's mansion was simple but comfortable, with tapestries depicting scenes of war or hunting on the stone walls, solid and practical oak furniture, a vast training ground for the knights, superb stables and an enclosed garden where stood a hundred-year-old plum tree. Leon liked to come here because one could feel under this roof, in spite of the martial way of life of the Earl, a true home. Often, ministers gathered there too, interested in the ideas of the eldest prince.

Lord Balinor, who was a good and wise man, often encouraged his second in command, Gwaine, to come and listen to the discussions. Gwaine was not of noble birth, and it was easy to see. It had been Leon who had spotted him while reviewing the city patrols and who had recommended him to the general. The knight laughed a lot and often made blunders while talking, but his courage, his swordsmanship and his experience of the battlefield were exceptional. Lord Balinor foresaw that he would one day make an excellent leader, and he strongly encouraged the friendship between his son and Gwaine, who was only a little older than Emrys.

Everything seemed perfectly fine when Emrys and Arthur celebrated their nineteenth birthday, that spring. But while the two boys were trying out their new swords, and Freyja was prancing on her horse, the panther leaping around trying to catch the pink petals swirling in the breeze and Gwaine was laughing loudly as he watched them, Leon and Lord Balinor could not help frowning as they thought of the current situation in Camelot.

That year, things were not as calm and happy as they seemed: the king had started to notice how much the people loved the eldest prince. He had noticed that the ministers were listening to him and approving almost blindly to all his suggestions. Uther Pendragon was a jealous and suspicious man, and although anyone could see that Leon was serving him faithfully, he could not help wondering if his son would not suddenly rebel and take the throne from him...

There were people in the Court who did not like the eldest prince because he never accepted their gifts, refused to pretend not to notice their sordid little affairs and openly accused them when they were acting against the interest of the people, the country or the king. These people got along very well with Prince Alined and knew how to manipulate Uther Pendragon, but they had come to realize they would never be able to do what they wanted as long as Leon was there – and even less after he would become king himself.

The cruelest and most ambitious of them all was the chief of the secret services, Baron Agravaine. He hated Leon because the prince had prevented him several times from carrying out his shenanigans or from unfairly mistreating the prisoners entrusted to his care. Agravaine knew exactly how wary the king was of his son's popularity, so he devised a plan to get rid of Leon, as well as of all the people who loved him and could possibly defend him in front of his father...

In summer, that year, Freyja and Emrys got officially engaged and it became obvious to all that if this had been their parents' choice at first, it was now very much their own as well.

Then winter came and war broke out at the ports of Mercia and on Caerleon's border at the same time. Lord Balinor divided the army in two. To the South, where the fight would be mainly at sea against the Great White Dragon and the pirates, he sent thirty thousand men with Gwaine and Prince Arthur.

The remaining seventy thousand men left for the North with the Earl of Ealdor and his son Emrys, who was in charge of his own battalion, the Scarlet Wings, for already three years.

Emrys and Arthur parted laughing: the Earl's son made the prince promise to bring him back the biggest pearl he would find in the cerulean waters of the Great Sea and the latter jokingly told him not to catch a cold in the icy Northern Mountains.

Then the two armies went opposing ways, leaving behind Camelot. The wind had risen on the white plain and was violently shaking the red and golden banners.

In the South, the enemy proved stronger than they had expected, so Gwaine and Arthur had to fight all winter long to protect the country. They came back as heroes. Prince Morgan, who had joined them at the later time, distinguished himself by submitting the Great Sea Serpent but received no other reward than the beast itself. As for Freyja, whom her father had sent there to negotiate peace agreements, she found herself protecting a fort on her own at some point of the battle, with only a handful of men, and although she was barely seventeen years old, she showed such courage and such wits that upon her return, her father named her general and granted her a small army.

But the princess did not rejoice at this honor, because when they came back, Arthur, Gwaine, and herself heard terrible news.

During their absence, the King had received a letter exposing the intention of Leon to take the throne by force with Lord Balinor's help. The letter said that instead of fighting the enemy, the seventy thousand men sent to the North had rallied to Caerleon and intended to march on Camelot. The secret services had hastened to conduct their inquiries, and Baron Agravaine had discovered overwhelming evidence against the Earl of Ealdor and the eldest prince.

Mad with rage, the king had had his own son executed and he had sent ten thousand men to slaughter the rebels.

Arthur, Gwaine and Freyja could not believe it: Emrys, his father and Prince Leon were dead and it was forbidden to speak of them from now on. Everything had collapsed while they had been away and, in a few months, they had lost a brother, their best friend and an army of brave men.

Prince Arthur tried desperately to ask the King to open up a new investigation, but he did not avail. He managed only to draw to himself the hatred of his father who, from now on, sent him into battle as soon as came the opportunity, so he would not always be reminded that perhaps he had made a mistake in so hastily sentencing to death his own son, as well as a general who had always been faithful until then.

Freyja was appointed to protect Mercia and she swore she would never marry. Her father, annoyed by her stubbornness and unsettled by her silent reproachful gaze, was very glad not to see her too often.

Gwaine remained at Court, for the Earl of Ealdor had made him promise to watch over Camelot if anything happened to him during the war. As he did his work faithfully, never mentioning the dreadful case, he earned the King's trust and was finally granted the title of general. The knight lived up to the task. He never asked for anything, but when he had a few days off, he would go spend them in Essetir. And when he returned from the forests of the East, it was always with a strange expression on his face, a mixture of hope, determination and deep sadness.

Uther Pendragon made his second son, Alined, the Crown Prince. But to ensure a balance in power, he suddenly began to pay attention to his third son, Morgan, setting off jealousies and complicated stories in the castle, while the two men were struggling to gain power over the courtiers and ministers. The country started to decay. The people were treated with indifference or injustice, they were poor and hungry and nobody cared for their lives. Revolt rumbled and Agravaine crushed the dissatisfied attempts at changing things with the secret services, throwing in prison or executing those who tried to raise their voices or their fists.

The only person the baron left alone was Arthur, because he knew the prince was not loved by the King and that every time the young man opened his mouth to report to his father the misfortunes of the people, Uther Pendragon would get angry and sent him on a military campaign as far as possible.

Twelve years had elapsed and the story of the army massacred at the Northern Frontier and the betrayal of Prince Leon had gradually fallen into oblivion, when a winter morning, a small cart stopped at the gates of Camelot. The guards who were shivering in the cold wind asked the sullen fourteen-year-old boy who was driving for the official papers and they cast a curious glance at the man buried in warm furs who was dozing on the back seat, looking pale and weak.

The papers told them that the traveler was called Merlin and, in his luggage, the guards found erudite books, maps of the kingdom and of the neighboring countries, ink, brushes, paper, warm clothes, a lot of medicinal herbs and a small wooden box that the young driver of the cart tore from their hands and did not want them to examine. They were about to fight with him and pull out their swords when the traveler awoke and called off the feral kid.

- "Come here, Daegal. Let them look at it, they won't break any of your things, I promise", he said firmly.

With a frightful scowl, Daegal obeyed and the guards opened the box carefully under his blazing eyes, to find it only contained wooden toys.

Meanwhile, Princess Freyja, who was coming back from Mercia with her troops, had stopped to see what this crowd was about. Someone quickly explained the problem to her and the princess came forward to greet the traveler and tell him the guards of the city were only doing their job.

But the boy blocked her way. Stubbornly, he said only two words: "Sick, cold", pointing at the pale young man who was clinging to the cart as if not to fall. Freyja understood right away. She nodded, scattered the guards then returned to the cart which curtains had been pulled once the traveler had returned inside and Daegal climbed back into the driver's seat.

- "Welcome to Camelot, sir," said the princess, bowing though no one could see her. "May I ask how long you intend to stay and what is the purpose of your coming to our great city?"

Freyja knew the guards needed these answers but she could see that the boy could not answer clearly and that the situation would drag on.

The curtains did not open but a soft voice answered.

- "I thank the princess. I have a chronic illness and I am here to rest and nurse my health. I will be found at the inn for the moment, but I intend to buy a house and to settle for a while in the city."

Freyja nodded and motioned for the cart to pass. Daegal glared at the guards, then he lightly shook the reins and the horse headed for the city center.

The curtains fluttered open, but Freyja did not see the weary face of the traveler nor his eyes bright with unshed tears, because at that moment, one of the guards squealed, looking at the register:

- "Oh! Merlin... but I know that name! I heard about him, they call him the Wizard of the East River. Tis said he's got no magic whatsoever but that there's no one as clever and astute then him in the whole country. There're even some rumors saying that whoever heeds his advice will surely become the next king of Camelot! I wonder if he'll help the Crown Prince or support Prince Morgan to change the King's mind about his successor..."

Freyja thought sadly that, no matter which prince the mysterious traveler would choose, the Country would probably remain in the same misery if the next ruler was anything like Uther Pendragon...

A few days later, word that the wisest man in the world had come to Camelot spread like wildfire and gifts began to flow to the inn where the Wizard of the East River had come to stay. But none was accepted. No one could go through the bedroom door either, because Daegal, although small and thin, was fighting against anyone who tried to force the passage – and it soon became apparent that the young bodyguard had to be the strongest warrior in the world.

Finally, however, someone managed to cross the forbidden threshold and to meet the famous Merlin. This man was Gwaine who had come to ensure this traveler was no threat to the kingdom.

The general was unusually strong and agile, yet he did have some trouble to defeat the young door keeper. But he won in the end and, delighted he had found an opponent worthy of him, came in with a big smile on his face, stroking his beard with one hand, a kicking and grunting Daegal stuck under his other arm.

Merlin was at the window, dressed in a white coat with gray fur on the collar. His long black hair was carefully combed and tied on the back of his neck.

He motioned for the boy to stop struggling.

- "Peace, Daegal," he said gently but firmly. "You can parry with your new friend again later, let us talk now."

Daegal stamped his foot, but he lowered his eyes and went to sit in a corner of the room. The general looked curiously at him opening his toy box, then he turned to the frosty window and met Merlin's cobalt blue eyes.

- "Good morning, Gwaine," said the wizard in a low voice.

And Gwaine crossed in a few steps the space which separated them to hug him impetuously.

- "You're back!" he blurted, overwhelmed by emotion.

- "You're crushing me, my friend", Merlin laughed softly.

The general let go of him immediately and he mumbled an excuse as he turned to quickly wipe a tear from the back of his sleeve.

- "If you're back, it means... that time has come", he said when they sat down.

Merlin nodded gravely and he put down the steaming tea-pot.

- "The time has come," he repeated. "The truth will finally come to the light."

His blue eyes were burning with an indomitable flame, but there was immense sadness on his face.

- "When we're done, they will be able to rest in peace, but it won't bring them back..." he whispered, watching the white swirls of steam over their cups.

Gwaine nodded. He wished he could have found encouraging words, but he was not very good at expressing himself, so he only dared to say:

- "At least Princess Freyja and Arthur will..."

Merlin's thin, pale face tightened and two fever spots blossomed on his cheekbones.

- "They must know nothing, Gwaine!" he cried. "Nothing, do you hear me? If they knew who I am, they'd think only of protecting me and then everything would fail, we'd never be able to change things and save Camelot!"

Daegal saw that he had gotten up and he rushed towards them, growling, ready to defend his master. Merlin lifted a weary hand to stop him, then leaned on him to sit down heavily. He looked already exhausted.

- "I don't have much time, Gwaine," he muttered. "Do you understand? I'm sorry, but that secret, I have to ask you to keep it to yourself, no matter the pain."

The general lowered his eyes. His voice was hoarse when he answered.

- "I promise you."

There was a heavy silence, then Merlin smiled.

- "I have a mission to entrust you. I can't stay in this inn with all these gifts that keep piling up at my door. I will also soon be receiving famous visitors. I need a house... with a special feature... I told you a bit about it in my last letter, didn't I?"

Gwaine grinned back.

- "I see what you mean," he said, winking. "I'll find you just the thing by tomorrow! And then you'll be able to see each other whenever you desire so, without anyone knowing of your secret affair."

Merlin almost choked on his tea. He put down his cup, wiped his lips, then sighed, rolling his eyes.

- Please try to refrain from putting it like this.

But there was a twinkling in his cobalt orbs, like in the old days, and Gwaine would have played the fool for a lifetime if this was the only way he would again get a glimpse of the friend he had lost.

TBC

Next chapter : DEAL