AUTHOR'S NOTE: First, this takes place in an alternate universe branching off from the end of series two; so no mentions of events in series three or beyond. Second, this is a renovation of another story, "The Heir of Cameliard" that I thought needed some restructuring. Some massive restructuring. Except for two or three scenes, this is a completely different story, but I'm keeping both versions up for my own reference (and I'm only mentioning it in case you're reading more than one of my stories).
XIXIXIX
Trials
The horse's hooves echoed against the stones as Arthur and Caradoc entered the courtyard of Cameliard. They dismounted, Caradoc alighting lithely from her saddle. She wore black trousers and a black shirt, a purple stone pendant swinging as she moved. She brushed her road-dusted black hair away from her olive-skinned face and glanced behind her. Arthur, meanwhile, gave the reins of his horse to a servant; and then he joined her. He wore a blue shirt and leather vest—the attire he'd worn when he first arrived in Cameliard with nine of his knights. Despite the fact that Cameliard permitted magic, when King Leodogran had asked him to stay, Arthur had consented (keeping his name a secret)—and now he stood as the Captain of Leodogran's guard, in the twilight, beside Anna's watchful confidante.
Four other riders approached the courtyard. Princess Anna, Leodogran's only living child, wore brown trousers and a blue bodice over a white shirt. Her blonde hair unraveled from her braid as she talked with Blaise, the court physician-sorcerer, and Sanam, the midwife, who plodded along on her pack mule. Most of the conversation was between Anna and Sanam, with Blaise only occasionally nodding his dark head. His dark hands held his reins loosely, and Arthur couldn't tell if he was actually listening. Merlin rode even further behind, slowly, reins and the road both forgotten as his horse meandered after the others. He held a book, above which floated a tiny orb of magic light that counteracted the bleak dusk. He also wore the brown trousers and shoes he'd worn from Camelot, but his shirt was a fine dark green under a long, dark-grey coat that he had chosen when he became Blaise's apprentice, for it reminded him of his father's.
Lord Erik, perched at a window high above the courtyard, watched the scene—Princess Anna, Blaise and the midwife joined Anna's friend and the fair Captain of the Guard. The Captain lifted the Princess off her horse, though she needed no such assistance, and Blaise hissed for his dark-haired apprentice to hurry up.
"Is everything all right, Lord Erik?" Lady Julia, the King's cousin, arrived at Erik's side. Two of Cameliard's council members followed. Lady Julia was Erik's main connection to Cameliard—it was she who had arranged with King Lac to have Erik court Anna. Erik had been in Cameliard several weeks, but the ways of King Leodogran and his daughter were still mysterious to him.
"Does the Captain always spend so much time with Princess Anna?" Erik asked.
"It is the Captain's duty to ensure her safety," said Sir Sagramore, a retired knight, who clasped his good right hand around his useless left as he halted beside Erik.
Erik continued to stare out the window.
"Anna has some notion of making our physician attend to every peasant and gypsy living anywhere near Cameliard." Julia turned her head toward Sagramore and Cole. "A notion which Leodogran encourages," she muttered.
"And she needed an escort to a nearby village?" Erik asked.
"There are still many dangers on the road," Sagramore replied.
"Thieves accost travelers," Sir Cole nodded, a patch over his right eye, as he leaned against a cane. He was the youngest member of the council, but had the most scars.
"And threats disguised as salutations come from unfriendly neighbors," Sagramore finished.
"These are minor concerns," Julia put her arm around Erik's shoulder, steering him away from the window. "Cameliard has many friends, and has proved more than capable of defending itself."
"I hear Cameliard has the Captain to thank for that," Erik said as Julia escorted him away.
"The Captain is an asset, not a savior," Cole called after them.
"Don't worry about the Captain," Julia smiled up at Erik as they vanished from Cole and Sagramore's sight.
"Did you get it?" Sagramore whispered when he and Cole were alone.
"Do you know how many love potions there are?" Cole replied, removing a folded piece of parchment from his shirtfront.
"We only need one."
Leodogran leaned heavily on the table, his hands covering two sides of Cameliard's territory on the map. His shadow loomed long upon the floor of the great hall as the morning sunlight streamed in—the only illumination necessary. Arthur, standing beside him, aborted his question.
"Sire?" Arthur said instead.
"Hm?" Leadogran straightened. "If Lot tries again—"
Leodogran was interrupted by the opening of the hall doors. Lord Erik strode confidently in, a clear intent in his footsteps as he approached the king and genuflected.
"My lord, I am sorry to disturb you," Erik said.
"My guest is never a disturbance," Leodogran replied. "Stand up, Erik."
Erik stood: "I wish to prove my worth for your daughter's hand."
Leodogran raised an eyebrow.
"I want to show you that I am worthy of Princess Anna."
"I see," Leodogran said thoughtfully. "All right, I'll arrange a test—no—three—that's the usual number for these sorts of things, isn't it?" he asked Arthur.
"I wouldn't know," Arthur said.
"Really?" Leodogran said; then he turned to Erik. "So be it. Sir Erik—prepare, three times shalt thou be tested. But you might not find yourself as ready as you believe."
Erik bowed low, and as he left, Arthur whispered to Leodogran, "Are the tests really that hard?"
"I have no idea," Leodogran said.
The air was warming with the day. A waning gibbous moon hung in the clear morning sky—its whiteness almost transparent against the pale pristine blue.
"Is it special?" Merlin asked Blaise. The two of them stood with Tiernan, the Druid advisor of Leodogran's council, atop the tallest tower of Cameliard. At least, the tallest tower without a roof. Merlin flipped through the pages of the book in his hands—Blaise's own systematic study of the moon's cycles. Marginalia covered every page in various inks—the notes Blaise had added over the years.
"That's no way to learn," Tiernan said. "If you want to know the moon, you must greet the moon." He tilted Merlin's head up.
"So what does it mean?" Merlin asked, closing the book.
"That the moon will be new in two weeks," Tiernan said; Blaise smirked.
"Magically, I mean—there's notes about druid lore in here," Merlin opened the book again.
"Yes." Tiernan gave Blaise a disapproving look.
"The knowledge should be preserved," Blaise said.
Tiernan sighed. "Perhaps. But not taught. Not like this."
"So how do you learn?" Merlin said.
"Years with a master. By living it. Magic isn't a list; it's . . ." Tiernan sought for words, "the world's soul," he concluded. "If you want to understand magic, you have to feel the give-and-take, the pulse . . ."
"The balance?" Merlin said. Tiernan nodded.
"Are you a master? Is that why your mark is blue?" Merlin indicated the tri-swirl at the nape of Tiernan's neck, almost hidden by braided white hair.
"You've seen other druids with brown markings, I take it," Tiernan said.
"Druids are not a unified kingdom, Merlin," Blaise said. "And they do not all share the exact same beliefs—you would do well to remember that."
"But you all practice the Old Religion," Merlin said.
Blaise waved away the objection. "That just refers to anyone who respects a priestess of the Old Gods. Or whose worship involves any magic whatsoever."
And even priestesses can differ, Emrys, Tiernan mind-said to Merlin as Blaise cocked an ear toward the open trapdoor where footsteps clacked on stone stairs.
Blaise's name rose from the hole; a second later Arthur's head bobbed up. "Leodogran wants to see you," Arthur said once he'd joined them. "Alone," he added when Merlin moved.
Blaise nodded. "The moon matters, Merlin. Study both," he pointed to the book in Merlin's hands and the moon in the sky as he walked away.
"The moon matters?" Arthur turned to Merlin and Tiernan.
"All nature matters," Tiernan said.
"For gathering herbs . . . for healing?" Arthur asked.
"Yep. That's exactly it," Merlin said, smothering the book between his arms and chest.
"Druids reckon the days by the moon, not the sun," Tiernan said. "Blaise feels Merlin should know our ways. Would you like to learn?"
"Maybe another time," Arthur said. "I have duties." And with one final glance at Merlin, he left.
By mid-afternoon the whole of Cameliard was abuzz. A makeshift arena was under construction on the grass plain behind the city—rumor had it on the orders of Princess Anna—and gossip spread wildly as to its purpose. Arthur couldn't pass a single knight, noblewoman, servant or urchin without hearing some whispered conjecture. The only ones who weren't talking about it were Anna herself and Leodogran. Anna's strange friend Caradoc was also silent—but then, she was often silent—and Arthur hadn't run into her all day, though he'd seen her that morning wearing humble servant's clothes. When Arthur made his daily tour of the city—hearing yet more rumors from the merchants dealing with their final customers for the day and smelling the aroma of mutton and fish—he spotted Caradoc emerging from the stables with her black Arabian.
"And where are you off to?" Arthur approached. She wore black trousers, black boots, a purple pendant atop a black shirt and a black strip of linen tied around her hairline. She also wore a sword.
"Business for Anna," she said, making an adjustment to her saddle.
"Naturally."
Caradoc grabbed two knives from her pack. She tucked one into her boot and one under her belt at the small of her back.
"I should come with you," Arthur stroked the horse's nose.
"Let me guess—because the roads are dangerous."
"Or maybe I just want to know exactly what it is that you do."
"You'd be in my way. Besides," she said, finally giving Arthur her full attention, "you're needed here. Taste Anna's food and drink, and guard her at night—"
"Are you giving me orders?" Arthur smiled with amusement.
"Every time Anna has a suitor, somebody tries something," Caradoc said sternly. "And it's not always the suitor. If you want your servant to taste her food, fine—but you need to personally guard her at night. Nobody gets in or out."
"What are you worried about?—someone using a love spell to sway her decision?"
"Or some other form of enchantment."
Arthur nodded thoughtfully and stared off into the dark stones of Cameliard's walls that were growing darker with the fading light of the just-set sun. Caradoc studied him curiously.
"What would you do if you caught someone?" she asked.
"You're worried about a sorcerer?"
Worried about a sorcerer, Caradoc repeated silently to herself. To Arthur she whispered, "I'm worried about what the son of Uther Pendragon might do in order to catch a sorcerer."
Arthur started. "I-I w-woul—" he sighed and closed his eyes. "Blaise told you."
"Hardly."
"Who else knows?" he asked her.
"Just me and Blaise. I think. Cameliard isn't stupid, Arthur—Uther is making a lot of noise looking for you. And your men complain loudly."
Arthur was quiet. In the pause, Caradoc softened, and gently touched his arm.
"I haven't said anything yet, and I won't say anything now. But time is running out." Caradoc mounted her horse and then gazed down at Arthur. "And Anna better be herself when I get back," she said.
Merlin pretended to read the book of anatomy that Blaise had given him—since, after all, Merlin wanted Arthur to think he was Blaise's apprentice only in matters of medicine. Merlin sighed at the tediousness of keeping up appearances in Blaise's chambers where it was just the two of them. You need to know this, Blaise had said. Merlin slowly turned the page, but looked at Blaise rather than the book.
"What do you think it takes to be a good king?" Blaise asked, discerning Merlin's disinterest, even while concentrating on a small, shiny black stone upon which he was carving.
"Well, he'd have to be a good person first." Merlin longed to ask if Blaise was carving runes and what they meant.
"And second?" Blaise's eyes flashed gold and the cuts in the stone shimmered.
" . . . wise . . ." Merlin leaned his elbows on the open book, crunching the binding.
"Let me guess," Blaise said, "third, he has to listen—especially to magic advisers."
"They do have the best advice."
Blaise sighed and shook his head—a small, private movement. "And how would you test for such admirable qualities?"
"Shouldn't they be obvious?"
"Do you think Arthur will make a good king?" Blaise stared at the black stone, rubbing it between his fingers.
"He's going to be a great king," Merlin beamed.
"How do you know?"
"I just do."
"You don't think he's good enough to know about your magic," Blaise commented.
"That's different—magic's illegal in Camelot—I could lose my head—it has nothing to do with Arthur."
Hmm, Blaise still gazed at the stone. "What was your first impression of Arthur—that it was so very obvious he'll make a great king?"
"Why are we even worrying about this?" Merlin turned another page of the book. "Why do we have to test Erik's worth for Anna's love?"
"Is that what you think this is?"
"Think what is?" Anna entered the room from the side door, which connected Blaise's chambers to the long room where beds were lined for wounded.
"Merlin wants to know why we're testing Lord Erik."
"Because Lord Erik requested it," Anna said. "Is it ready?"
Blaise handed her the black stone.
Anna clasped the stone. "Funny how I keep losing these," she said dryly.
"Not all of them, it seems," Blaise said, indicating the bracelet on her wrist. Merlin stared at it—it was woven out of some sort of thin rope and had three red stones braided, into it. As he stared, he realized that there were runes etched into the three stones.
"Can't be too careful," Anna said. She held up the stone, "Thank you, Blaise." As she walked toward the door leading to the corridor, Merlin called her back.
"Anna—do you love Erik?"
"Why would that matter?" Anna faced him.
"You're testing him to marry you—why? You either love him or you don't."
Anna scoffed. "I am not choosing a husband for myself, Merlin—I am choosing a king for my people. That is why we test Erik. Love is not relevant."
With that she marched out of the room, the door wide open behind her. Merlin turned to Blaise for explanation, but the sorcerer was putting away his tools.
"Anna's bodyguard is gone," Blaise said, devoted to his task. "You and Arthur will be responsible for making sure no harm comes to her tonight." He looked up, "in case you wanted to ask any other questions."
Merlin sealed the windows in Anna's chambers, conducting the spell from memory. In each pane, his face reflected against the darkness of the night. Behind him, Anna placed the black stone beneath her pillow. She smoothed the blankets of her bed—her thoughts elsewhere—and then surveyed her chambers. Someone knocked.
"Come in," Anna called and Arthur entered. And Merlin hurried to finish—discreetly—the final window before swinging around.
"How's it going?" Arthur asked, focused on Anna. Merlin relaxed—somewhat.
"I should just take up residence in the dungeon," Anna said.
"It's for your own safety," Arthur said—but Anna had heard it before.
"Would someone really use a love spell on you?" Merlin asked. "I mean, no one's tried yet."
"No," Anna admitted, her face knit with concern.
"Nothing will happen to you," Arthur touched her shoulder. "I promise."
Anna forced a smile.
A single candle lit Sir Sagremore's chambers where he and Sir Cole poured over the stolen love potion. Each had sent separate servants to acquire most of the ingredients—getting one or two themselves. The candle was insufficient light, but necessary to avoid suspicion, as it was well-known that Sagremore retired early. Cole incanted a few final words over the ornate goblet stamped with the seal of Cameliard—the standard ware from which the royal family drank.
The hour was late. Anna and Arthur played chess, sitting at one end of a long table in Anna's chambers. Merlin, seeing little use in the game, watched indifferently in his chair beside Arthur. Anna's bed had not yet been turned down, and the room was bright with candles and a warming fire. Anna checkmated.
"You're rusty," she said.
"How would you know, you've never played me before—I could be letting you win."
"So you always purse your lips like that?" Anna said. "And clench your jaw and glare rudely. . ."
Merlin chuckled and Arthur tried to protest—but he yielded, deciding that another game was better than being the source of gibing revelry. He reset the pieces.
"Does Lord Erik play?" He asked casually as he made the first move.
"Of course," Anna said, ignoring the board and staring innocently at Arthur. Merlin perked up, sensing a change in the game.
"But you're already playing another game with Erik," Merlin interjected. "With his heart."
The air thickened. Arthur reached his hand around Merlin, as if to hug a friend. "I'm sorry," he said, pinching Merlin's neck. "Merlin's too stupid to know what he says sometimes." Merlin cringed.
"Actually," Anna said, moving a pawn, "Merlin just thinks I should base my people's welfare on a flimsy heart's whim."
"Can someone please explain to me why love isn't important?" Merlin said, wriggling out of Arthur's grip.
"So a tyrant king is acceptable to you so long as the queen loves him?" Anna sneered.
"What?—no—that's not—"
Someone knocked softly as Merlin stumbled for words. No one heard.
"Oh," Anna said, "an idiot king, then."
The door opened slowly, unnoticed by all three. Anna's servant Rhona entered the room, staring at a goblet, decorated with the seal of Cameliard, in her hand.
"My lady," she said quietly.
Arthur rose, but Merlin and Anna stayed seated.
"Your nightcap," Rhona said, holding the goblet out in front of her.
"Thank you," Arthur took it from her. Rhona tried to leave.
"Rhona," Anna called her back. "Who said I requested it?"
"I was told my lady needed her nightcap," Rhona said.
"By whom?" Anna said.
"I was told."
Anna stared at the girl a moment. "Thank you, Rhona—that will be all."
Rhona fled; Anna stood and took the goblet from Arthur, closing the door herself. She examined it, sniffed the contents—then pushed it into Merlin's hand. "Pour this somewhere on the ground outside—out of the way—and then have Blaise cleanse the goblet."
Merlin looked into the cup and sniffed—he could smell nothing—no scent at all. He placed the goblet on the opposite end of the table while Arthur returned to his seat. Anna was pensive for a moment—looking strangely relieved. A silence followed.
"You're right," Arthur said, drawing Anna out of her reverie. "A kingdom needs a strong leader. But an arrangement doesn't have to be bad . . . I mean . . . it can work—"
"Did your parents love each other?" Merlin said, picking up one of Arthur's pawns.
"Their marriage was arranged," Anna said. "Cameliard got much-needed men and horses."
"That not what I asked." Merlin replaced the pawn.
"I suppose," Anna finally said, looking at the aborted game. "My father says they did. He says they were lucky—that mother loved him enough to give him four wonderful children. As if heirs were a woman's kindness. I think he loved her—he was devastated when she died. And he never took another wife—even though Julia tried to finagle some unions. Until he got old and I came of age . . ."
"So Julia came when your mother died?" Arthur asked.
"She stayed after my mother died. She visited often when mother was alive. Sometimes I think mother preferred having her around, even though they disagreed on so many things. Julia likes her position—sees purpose in her 'duties'. And she can order people around like a juggler . . . My mother could never quite believe in Julia's world. Queen Jascaphin was a mask somebody else made her wear."
"Was—" Arthur said hesitantly, "was she h—"
"A bad queen?" Anna said abruptly—and shrugged. "How does one judge? She was very pretty, if that's important."
"Were they happy?" Merlin asked.
"I think so," Anna said. "But you know what's strange?—I know she used to smile, but I can't see it. I always see her as sad." Anna drifted. "Maybe I'm only remembering her after Dylan—my brother—died, when she was always tired."
A silence weighed down the room as Anna picked her fingernails. And when she remembered her guests, she smiled weakly. "And what about you?" she asked Arthur. "What was your mother like?"
"I don't know," Arthur said quietly. "She died when I was born, and my father never talks about her. He never remarried, either. Everybody says they loved each other—well, the few people that are willing to tell me anything. Sometimes it's like she never existed—and sometimes it's like—like she haunts the halls." He looked up at Anna. She reached over and took his hand, holding it for a moment.
"Maybe we should play a different game," she said.
Dawn found Merlin and Arthur outside Anna's chambers. Arthur stood at attention, but Merlin lay slumped over sleeping, his breathing even and rhythmic. Sir Nabon, one of Camelot's knights, approached, stopping before Arthur.
"Sire," Sir Nabon said. "King Leodogran wishes to see you."
"Of course," Arthur nodded. Sir Nabon watched him, uncertain and uneasy.
"Is there something else?" Arthur asked.
Nabon almost spoke, but reconsidered. "No, Sire—nothing else."
Arthur nodded and moved to kick Merlin; Merlin dodged him.
"I'm awake," he protested, grunting as he pushed himself against the wall to standing.
"Good," Arthur said. "I want you to check on Anna—taste her breakfast personally."
"Okay, okay," Merlin muttered, knocking on Anna's door as Arthur and Nabon walked away.
Sun streamed into the great hall, illuminating the hanging tapestries. Around the table sat the council: Sagramore, a retired knight who'd lost the use of his left hand in a battle years ago; Gaudifier, who kept a well-groomed beard beneath his baldness; Lucas the Old; Tiernan, a druid; Alaric, who'd been on the council since Leodogran was a child; the brothers Idris and Erling; Cole, the youngest man on the council, who had lost his right eye and had his right foot maimed in the same battle that had cost Leodogran's eldest son, Gotegrin, his life; and Blaise.
Leodogran sat at the head of the table with Arthur on his right.
"Lot is still building an army," Gaudifier said.
"He won't attack us," Blaise said, clasping his hands before him on the table.
Alaric leaned forward, "especially since he knows we have allies." He turned to Arthur. "Or are Echel and Iona only your friends?"
"They are Cameliard's friends," Arthur said quickly. "They'll aid you if Lot attacks."
"What about Royns?" Cole stared coldly at Arthur. "He was indifferent to us before you defeated half his army—and killed the nephew who led it."
"Don't mistake being busy elsewhere for indifference, Cole," Lucas the Old said. "Royns is as greedy as Lot."
"But neither is making any overt moves against us," Idris said. "Not yet. Our most pressing problem at the moment is the raiders picking away at us like vultures."
"I can increase patrols throughout the kingdom," Arthur said to Leodogran. "I'll stop them."
"We know our own lands better than you do," Sagramore said, "and we couldn't find them—but somehow you will?"
"It's more likely that they're hiding outside our kingdom," Alaric said, "and we can't march a patrol of knights into someone else's territory without declaring war."
"What about spies?" Arthur asked.
"Yes, we've thought of that," Sagramore replied.
"Continue rewarding information, and maintain our patrols," Leodogran said. "Until we know more, there's no point in doing anything rash. What else?"
"Has Anna made a decision concerning Lord Erik?" Lucas asked.
"No," Leodogran said firmly.
"Sire," Sagramore said, "Erik is an admirable warrior—"
"But we are looking for a king," Leodogran said. "So unless you think Anna is incapable . . ."
"Of course not," Lucas said. "Anna's a good girl; she'll do what's best for Cameliard."
"Is there a danger of love potions?" Arthur asked.
The council fell silent, a furtive glance tossed here and there.
"The Captain asked a question," Leodogran said in a tone Arthur had never heard before.
"There have been attempts to force Anna's heart," Idris finally said. "But the Princess is astute and vigilant—"
"And has been well-guarded in the past," Cole said.
"—and has never been permanently harmed," Idris finished.
"Were the perpetrators caught?" Arthur asked.
"No," Leodogran said bitterly, staring in turn at each member of his council. "If anyone hears anything, they are to inform Blaise or the Captain immediately."
The room was quiet for a moment, until, with a wave of his hand, Leodogran adjourned the meeting.
"Oh, one last thing," Tiernan said, looking at Arthur as they were standing. "King Uther Pendragon of Camelot has misplaced his son."
"What has that to do with us?" Alaric narrowed his eyes.
Tiernan shrugged. "I thought we should all know that Uther is searching every inch of the land for his son." He stared at Arthur, "you haven't heard anything, have you?"
Arthur stared back at Tiernan. "Not since I was last near Camelot."
"I doubt Uther's messengers will bother with us," Leodogran said. "If one does, we treat him with respect—" he gave a warning look to Alaric, "and send him off with our ignorance."
A heavy moment passed while everyone waited for more to be said, but nothing was. The meeting thus concluded, the council slowly dispersed, Blaise throwing a heated look at Arthur as he left. Arthur ignored him and waited with Leodogran.
"Your council didn't like me here," Arthur said once they were alone.
"Are you saying they actually agreed on something?"
"Why did you ask me to attend?"
Leodogran considered Arthur. "Have you ever thought about being king?"
"I suppose—maybe." Arthur traced the grain of the table slowly with a finger, avoiding Leodogran's penetrating stare.
"I wanted your opinion," Leodogran said. "This is my test," he swept his arm around to encompass the table. "For Lord Erik."
"The council?" Arthur couldn't decide if Leodogran was joking.
"Too cruel?" Leodogran did seem amused.
"I don't get it," Arthur said.
"Really?" Leodogran said, and Arthur thought he seemed disappointed.
"He just has to sit in on a council meeting?"
Leodogran sighed. "Being king is not all battles and banquets—most of it is this—just sitting in council meetings, settling minor disputes, treaties, upholding your own laws, keeping your people harmonious—boring, I know, but it has to be done. The man my daughter marries must understand that." Leodogran's face fell, all traces of humor gone, replaced by what Arthur could tell was a deep unhappiness.
Merlin entered the hall—a buoyant presence contrasting with the sudden solemnity. He bounced up to Arthur and Leodogran, trying to control his exuberance.
"You're needed in the arena," Merlin said to Arthur.
"Let the testing commence," Leodogran said with faux grandeur. "That means go."
"You're part of the test," Merlin clarified. "I've already got your armor polished in the tent," he said as he pulled Arthur out of the room.
The arena outside was makeshift. It consisted of a wooden wall fencing off an oblong area of dirt where the grass had been cleared away. On one side—center stage—stood a small, raised pavilion containing three chairs. In the middle sat Anna, wearing a deep crimson dress, jewels at her throat and a tiara on her head; Blaise sat on her left and the chair on her right was empty. Knights lined the wall of the pavilion behind her, and people sat or stood on the grass behind the wooded wall—the area was a natural, if slight, basin, so most had a decent view—and it was jam-packed. Each of the two shorter sides of the arena had an opening in the fence for entrance. Arthur's tent was a short distance away from one entrance—an island in the crowd. Another tent stood similarly placed behind the opposite entrance.
"I take it I'm fighting Erik," Arthur said as Merlin finished adjusting his armor.
"Yep," Merlin handed Arthur his sword, smiling. "And everyone's excited to see a tournament—well, a sort-of tournament."
Arthur girded on his sword and paraded into the arena, an immense cheer rising the instant he emerged from his tent. He carried his helmet under his arm, and the crowd parted as he walked forward. Erik, entering at the same time wore his helmet—through the eye slits, Arthur could feel the intense gaze. The two met at the royal pavilion, turned to Anna and bowed. She stood, quieting her people.
"This is a trial of character," she addressed the entire arena, "a test of skill, of strength, and above all, honor." She turned to the fighters. "You may begin."
Arthur donned his helmet and faced Erik—they were simply two knights now, indistinguishable in identical armor. They paused, circling each other before Erik lunged forward, only to be deflected by Arthur. The ensuing fight was intense, expert, and at each thud of sword against shield or successful blow, the crowd roared. Arthur eventually got the upper hand, tripping his rival, whose helmet fell off as he rolled out of Arthur's reach.
Her helmet; as she rolled—it was Caradoc, not Erik.
Arthur stopped. He stared at Caradoc. She stood and retrieved her sword, unfazed. Arthur looked to Anna, and saw that Leodogran now sat on her right—they each stared at him with expressionless gazes, offering no clue as to what they expected Arthur to do. Merlin had also entered the pavilion—he stood behind Blaise—but he was involved in whatever scheme was at hand and merely waited with amusement. So Arthur bowed his head to Anna and threw off his helmet. He squared off against Caradoc again, fighting her with the same intensity as before, until he disarmed her. He placed his sword at her neck, demanding she yield. And the crowd cheered. Anna smiled.
The Princess stood; her father stayed seated, though the pride in his eyes was undeniable. The crowd silenced itself.
"A king must see things as they are, not as what he has been told they should be," Anna said. She turned to Arthur. "And our Captain has proven that he knows a dangerous opponent when he meets one—despite appearances."
Leodogran stood and applauded, the crowd's hands echoing his. Caradoc bowed to Anna and her father, but Arthur simply stared at Leodogran—and the gaze Leodogran returned was uncompromising—it held Arthur even as Caradoc escorted him off the field and into the Royal Pavilion. As they quit the arena, Anna raised her hands and again the crowd fell quiet. Leodogran seated himself.
"And since it would be such a shame to waste all the wonderful work put into this arena's construction," Anna said—and the crowd erupted and Anna smiled—and from both opposing entrances to the arena two jesters came, throwing a barrage of insults at each other as prelude to a mock battle.
When Anna finally reseated herself, Erik came forward from the shadows at the back of the pavilion.
"So I was supposed to beat her up," Erik said, staring across the heads of Anna and Leodogran at Caradoc and Arthur.
"A test of strength and prowess is traditional, I hear," Anna said, watching the jesters—Leodogran cleared his throat in warning and gave his daughter a reproving look.
"I apologize, Lord Erik," Anna said, motioning for Blaise to get up. "Please, sit down."
Once Erik took the seat next to her, she continued. "As long as Cara had her helmet on, you fought an equal, you didn't hold back—but once she lost her helmet, all you could see was a woman, and you judged her based on what you think a woman should be rather than the proof Cara had just given you of her skill. You think the Captain was wrong to keep fighting—that he acted dishonorably—but he understood that Cara's skill didn't change with the loss of her helmet."
"Although," Cara spoke up, still on the other side of Leodogran, "the Captain has seen me fight in battle—I'd say he had an unfair advantage."
"Plus, he's lost to a girl before," Merlin said. "He didn't much care for it."
Arthur glared at Merlin, but Merlin persisted in his mirth.
"Then he learns from his mistakes," Anna said.
"An excellent trait in anyone living," Blaise said as he grabbed Merlin's arm. "Come, we have work to do."
They left the royal party to the jesters—Arthur and Caradoc taking up stations behind Leodogran and Anna—and wound their way through the jubilant crowd.
"Do I get to learn something," Merlin said, "or do you still have to figure out a test?" Blaise seemed not to hear Merlin above the voices and cheers, but Merlin had learned enough about him to see through it. "We're doing the test, aren't we?" Merlin said once they were clear of the crowd and approaching the castle.
"The king's orders come first, Merlin," Blaise replied, and as he said it, his gaze wandered up to the parapet where the Lady Julia stood, watching the arena from afar.
"Wait," Merlin paused suddenly, "are you testing Arthur, too?"
"If the Captain wishes to conceal his identity, how else are we to discern his intentions?" Blaise watched Julia turn and disappear from view.
"But I thought Anna was just messing with him."
"That too," Blaise said, and he and Merlin continued on to Blaise's chambers in silence, both too preoccupied by private thoughts for further conversation.
Tiernan stood atop a small hill, some ways beyond the crowd, but just close enough to see the players in the arena. Two jugglers performed various acrobatics, and the castle walls loomed in the background. Alaric, having watched the official contests, joined Tiernan on the mound.
"What do you think of Anna's test?" Tiernan asked, as the people roared with laughter.
"Concerning the wit of a king, or the way she went about it?" Alaric turned to face the arena rather than Tiernan.
Tiernan also kept his gaze glued to the performance. "You're in a mood—are you disappointed that Lord Erik didn't quite pass or that the Captain did?"
"An intriguing question," Alaric said, "which sounds like a decided interest in the Captain."
"He is the Captain of our guard."
"The Captain, whom the King is vetting; why the sudden—" Alaric turned to Tiernan, " . . . you know who he is."
"He is a man with good reason to keep his name a secret." Tiernan still gazed ahead.
"Which implies we all know who he is," Alaric said thoughtfully. "And earlier, you were taunting him with the news that Uther Pendragon was—"
Dread fell across Alaric's face.
"Tiernan—tell me—please tell me he's not—"
"It seems the prince prefers to be judged by his own actions rather than his father's. An understandable desire, don't you think?"