The alarm bells resonating through the castle, Arthur makes his way down a back staircase and into the lower levels of the castle.
His father had ordered him to lead his men into the dungeons to impede the blacksmith's further escape. Arthur had sent them on their way, words sticking in his throat as he vocalized the command to execute on site, and had promptly taken off in the opposite direction.
There may be no hope for the blacksmith to escape his father's judgement, but he refuses to take part in Tom's execution.
Nodding at Geoffrey of Monmouth, Arthur steps into the library and hurriedly makes his way towards the room of records. He feels the librarian watching his every step, but he keeps his head high, refusing to excite any suspicion. He is there on official business, after all, improvised though it may be.
The way the laws of the kingdom stand, the property of any condemned citizen is confiscated and turned over to the king, the rights of any descendants revoked.
Arthur has no doubt that he'll be asked to tend to Tom's documents later in the day. Such duties have fallen on him since his coronation and he sees no harm in moving the action forward, before more legalities stand in his way.
His men will find Tom, and Tom will die. That, he can do nothing to stop without upsetting the kingdom and setting free secrets he hardly admits to have.
What he can do, however, is find the deeds to Tom's house and forge and save Guinevere from facing needless additional pain.
Jangling the bunch of keys attached to his belt, he finds the right one and enters the room. Thankful that he's been sent on numerous legal tasks before, he quickly locates the coffer filled with various upper city records and alights upon the blacksmith's documents.
The forge rests in Uther's name, but his father has never paid much attention to Tom's productions, favoring the royal blacksmith instead, and he signs it over to his own name. He knows he can't then assign it to Guinevere without arousing suspicion, but he doesn't hesitate when it comes to the blacksmith's house.
Numerous pieces of property throughout the city had been made out in his own name when he'd come of age, and his father had left him to manage their tenants. He'd found the responsibility tiring at first, preferring his more active duties, but he was thankful for it now, signing the property over to himself and the tenancy over to Guinevere for the duration of her lifetime. He scribbles a note to say that her fees have been paid for the coming year, and silently promises to deposit corresponding sums into the kingdom's coffers from his private funds once the excitement of the morning wears off and he can move about more freely.
Blotting the papers, he replaces them in their proper place and leaves the room. He waves again to Geoffrey of Monmouth and rushes back towards the king's chambers. Reaching the top of the steps, Guinevere's cries echo through an open window and only then does he realize that the silence of the library has permeated the rest of the castle.
He spends the afternoon training with his knights, but the relentless clanging of swords does nothing to drown out the memory of Guinevere's sobs. The sound rings in his ears and the remembered glimpse of her throwing herself after Tom's corpse distracts him enough that his opponent manages to graze his arm. The cut is minor, but the sting pulls him back to reality and he returns to his training with vigour.
He wants to get away and do whatever he can to make things a little less terrible, but he carefully masks his guilt as he goes through the motions of the day. He'd promised to do anything Guinevere wants or needs to help her with her grief, and though she had yet to make any requests, Tom's death weighs heavily on his conscience.
He knows there's one thing he needs to do, one that Guinevere can hardly attempt without subjecting herself to suspicion, and so he summons Merlin to his chambers in the early hours of the evening and tells him that he'll be riding out after dark.
He requests a change of his simplest clothes and the procuration of a nondescript cloak, and as soon as the rest of the castle retreats into sleep, he drapes the rough, blue material over his shoulders and slips out of his chambers.
The corridors are empty, save for a set of guards he encounters and sends off on a futile mission across the floor, and the silence he's grown to see as a refuge in the late hours of the night fills him with unease.
Dismissing the enormity of the task ahead of him, he arrives at the entrance of the courtyard and, fastening the blue hood over his head, steps out the doors.
The pyre is still set up in the centre, adorned by a pile of ashes as the only accepted marker of Tom's passing. As Morgana had screamed earlier in the day, his father had reiterated that the blacksmith could be given no proper burial, that his ashes were to be taken and dumped the following day. Morgana had screamed, and something had silently snapped inside of Arthur.
His eyes stinging from the lingering smoke, he fumbles for the jug he'd stuffed into bag and kneels beside the pyre. Without sparing a glance at the castle windows, he brushes the ashes into the improvised urn, making sure to get them all. He then empties another container Merlin had provided for him, full of cinders he'd collected from Gaius' fire, not wishing to arouse any suspicion.
He hopes his father will come to see his wrongs, but he has no doubt that any sign of rebellion against his actions will insight anger and inspire him to take further actions against Morgana or to look towards Guinevere, and that, Arthur will not allow.
Plugging the top of the container, he stands and quietly makes his way out of the citadel. His horse waits for him at the edge of the forest, already saddled and ready for their illicit journey, and he mounts, prepared to ride through the night and give Tom the burial he had been denied.
