"I never thought I'd meet someone who makes Uther look tolerant and reasonable," Morgana said. Beside her, Gwen carried a basket of wilted flowers, and the penumbral streets around them were empty. Night was falling. "What's wrong, Gwen?"
"Erbin was watching Lancelot this morning."
"Oh."
Gwen stopped and turned to Morgana. Her brow was furrowed and she rung the handle of the basket between her hands. "You don't—you don't think—"
"Having a man like Erbin interested in you is never a good thing, Gwen. But I don't know what will happen. You said Lancelot escorted a woman to Camelot?"
"She'd been accosted by thieves."
"Did he say anything else about her?"
"She's a friend of Gaius's."
"Anything else?"
Gwen shook her head.
"He probably didn't want to get you involved," Lunette said, appearing at Morgana's side from behind them. "Which is noble, but misguided."
Gwen and Morgana glanced at each other.
"Oh, I've been following you for a while, now," Lunette said.
"Why is it misguided to protect Gwen from a man like Erbin?" Morgana asked.
"Because when a man like Erbin is around, everyone is already involved. Some people tell themselves they're not, that if they just keep clear of him, they won't get hurt—but that's a mistake. Erbin's a fanatic. And there are very few who can pass his examinations. You're the Lady Morgana," Lunette turned suddenly to face Morgana.
Morgana nodded.
"And you don't like Erbin?"
"As you said," Morgana replied, "no one's safe with him around. I take it you're the one he's hunting."
Lunette contemplated the street in front of her. "If I was, what would you do?" she finally asked.
"Tell you to run as fast as you could."
"And if that weren't possible?"
Morgana pondered Lunette until Gwen tugged her arm and whispered, "Morgana, don't . . ."
Morgana glanced at Gwen's troubled face then grabbed Lunette's arm, pulling her through the lower town until they arrived at Gwen's house.
"What do you need?" Morgana said as soon as Gwen had closed the door behind them.
"A trustworthy messenger to deliver something," Lunette said, and Morgana noted that she was rubbing a rectangular red stone on her left index finger.
"What will you be doing?" Gwen asked.
"Running as fast as I can."
Sunrise. The knights of Camelot joined Erbin's men chasing Lunette through the winding streets. She wore a stable boy's attire, her hair pulled tight against her head but now coming undone. Word flew around that she had tried to steal a horse, immediately followed by the story that she was a witch. She successfully evaded Erbin's men, showing a familiarity with Camelot that Erbin and his men lacked; the knights of Camelot had no such handicap.
They cornered her just in front of the castle steps. The townspeople hung back while the knights and Erbin's posse advanced. Uther emerged from the castle, his stern countenance falling in recognition when he saw Lunette. Erbin aimed a large crossbow at her. She was completely encircled by men with swords. She raised her hands in front of her, a gesture both protective and surrendering. From among the crowd, Gaius pushed his way, approaching slowly and catching Lunette's eye. She stared back at him, her face pained. Another man also pushed his way forward, seeing what Gaius did not—but Lancelot tackled Erbin too late.
Uther rushed down the castle steps as Erbin's arrow hit Lunette's chest. A perfect shot—she fell dead. Erbin's men pulled Lancelot from their leader, punching him for good measure. Gaius kneeled beside Lunette's body and brushed a strand of loose hair from her face.
"Arrest the accomplice," Erbin ordered, pointing to Lancelot, who was already held roughly by two of Erbin's men.
"You had no right—she surrendered," Lancelot said.
"With such an elusive witch? That was a chance that could not be taken," Erbin said.
"You know very well she was not a witch," Gaius said, still kneeling beside Lunette's body. But he did not speak to Erbin; he glared up at Uther.
"And yet she carries magic devices." Erbin surveyed the surrounding onlookers.
"Like what?" Gaius said.
"There's no ring on her finger," Uther growled at Erbin. Erbin's head snapped around. One of Erbin's men knelt down and lifted each of Lunette's hands. Then he searched her clothes, finally shaking his head at Erbin.
"Where is it?" Erbin grabbed a sword and pressed its tip to Lancelot's chest.
"I don't know," Lancelot said.
"Enough!" Uther said. "I will determine his fate," he quietly snarled in Erbin's ear. Two knights took Lancelot from Erbin's men, while others went to disperse the crowd. Uther took a final look at Lunette's body and returned to the castle. Erbin planted himself on the stones and studied each move Gaius made. Erbin's face was implacable, accusing. From a window of the castle Morgana and Gwen watched—Morgana's face frozen in anger; Gwen's hands over her mouth in anguish.
And from within the vestiges of the scattering crowd, a sandy-haired man fixed his fierce gaze on Erbin.
Morgana stormed into the throne room. "It's so nice to see this situation is under control."
"Hardly, my dear—in fact, I'm beginning to suspect this witch had more than one accomplice." Erbin stared intently at Gaius, making no pretense of subtlety.
"Lunette was not a witch," Gaius insisted. Uther stared out the window—or perhaps he merely stared at the wall, ignoring the three other people in the room.
"If I didn't know better," Morgana said to Uther, "I'd think you were sorry to see her dead."
"Indeed—you are letting yourself be blinded by your past association," Erbin chided. "Whoever you thought she was then, she never was."
"You knew her?" Morgana stepped toward Uther.
"She . . . was—she worked in the castle. Many years ago," Uther said.
"She was Igraine's maid and closest friend," Gaius said firmly.
"And she chose to aid sorcerers!" Uther said.
"Pah—distractions!" Erbin said. "The witch is dead, the murderer apprehended. We must concentrate on finding that ring before more innocent souls are lost."
"Do you listen to yourself?" Morgana said. Uther glared at her in warning.
"You don't happen to know anything about it?" Erbin said to Gaius.
"Gaius would never keep such a dangerous object," Uther said as Gaius stared down Erbin.
"Then you won't mind us searching your chambers?" Erbin said.
"I mind," Uther said. "Lunette had to sleep somewhere, so I suggest you start at the inn."
"As you wish, my lord," Erbin said, still glaring at Gaius.
When Erbin had left, Morgana turned to Uther. "Lancelot is not a murderer," she said. "Are we really going to execute him for protecting an innocent woman from thieves?"
"That ring is dangerous, Morgana. Erbin's zeal may be intimidating to some, but he is rarely wrong. If he says that Lancelot is involved, then he has reasons for believing so."
"He strikes me more as idiotic than intimidating, but if you're content to let him kill friends—"
"We are at war!" Uther rounded on Morgana. "As painful as it was to see Lunette succumb, she made her choice and suffered the consequences. I mourn more than anybody."
"We all suffer consequences," Morgana insinuated softly before storming out.
Beneath the castle, meanwhile, in the torchlit dungeons, Guinevere clung to the bars of Lancelot's cell. Deprived of armor and bath water, Lancelot seemed well-suited to the grime of the hay-strewn cell.
"They think you killed the bounty hunter," Gwen said.
"That's the least of what Erbin thinks of me."
"Lancelot, you have to tell them they have the wrong man."
Lancelot clasped his hands around hers, stroking her fingers. "They haven't questioned me yet."
"You didn't kill that bounty hunter—but you know who did. Tell them."
"But I don't, Gwen. I don't know if the man I saw in the crowd was a brother or a friend or just a sympathetic bystander—maybe he already had a grudge against the bounty hunter and didn't even know Samuel." Lancelot turned to pace his cell.
"You have to say something—Erbin isn't going to let it go. Please, Lancelot."
"Throw another man into the fire to save myself? I can't do that, Guinevere."
"He might actually be guilty—you're innocent."
"But he hasn't done anything—not as far as I know. If you don't trust the King and Erbin to determine the truth of my innocence, how will they prove this other man's guilt?"
A tear fell down Gwen's cheek. "Please, Lancelot—I can't bear to watch Uther kill someone else I love—please. I don't know what else to do."
Lancelot kissed Gwen's forehead through the bars, he kissed her fingers—a moment that should have been private. But a spider's-eye view was given into a mirror, small, with an ornate silver frame. A mirror held by Erbin's hand as he stood in his chambers, cold, determined, watching.
Morgana sat in front of her mirror. She watched Gwen's reflection light the candles in her chambers. Gwen was methodic, systematic; she had a practiced routine that at the moment gnawed Morgana's nerves—Gwen was in a safe little rut, she decided.
"Did you tell Lancelot to accuse an innocent man of witchcraft to save himself?" Morgana asked as casually as possible, reaching around behind her head to unbind her hair.
"Lancelot would never do that." Gwen paused for a moment, staring at the flame of the candle in her hand. "He saw someone at Samuel's execution—someone suspicious. I asked him to tell what he knows. Someone murdered—"
An arrow flew past Gwen, close enough to snuff the candle in her hands—it hit the door of Morgana's wardrobe.
"Anyone I know?" A man stepped out from behind the curtains of the still-darkened corner of the room. He had already slid another arrow into his crossbow and had it pointed at Morgana. She turned around to face him while Gwen stood frozen.
"That depends," Morgana said. "Who are you?"
The man considered her for a moment. "No," he said as if sighing. "I think I'd prefer to remain anonymous for the moment."
"What do you want?" Morgana had her hands in her lap and sat, regal, unabashed, staring straight at the strange sandy-haired man in dirty clothes and a black cloak.
"What do I want?" he said, stepping further forward, his voice intensifying. "I want freedom, Lady. I want to be able to live my life unmolested. I want crimes to be crimes."
"You have magic," Morgana said calmly.
"Not a single, solitary speck. My parents practiced magic, though. My brother," the man choked, paused for a second, "he knew a useful spell or two. That's my crime—the reason your king hunts me like an animal—I was born."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sure you are," he took yet another step towards Morgana, the crossbow in his hand unwavering, pointed at Morgana's eye. "Because there are those who would say you, too, deserved to die, for committing no other treachery than being Uther's ward. What do you say, my Lady—does the misfortune of your birth warrant your death?" The man was close to Morgana now, almost whispering.
"I'd say your beliefs are more important at the moment."
The man smirked. "Then it is lucky for you that I don't believe in guilt by association. But understand that Uther and his little yipping dog Erbin—they would kill you. They would strike you down because of somebody you once spoke to." He relaxed, moving away from Morgana and taking a nearby chair. He kept an alert eye on both women, his crossbow ever-ready.
"Did you kill the bounty hunter?" Gwen ventured, quietly speaking with the dead candle gripped tightly in her hand.
"Murder is a crime," the man stated.
"Execution isn't," Morgana retorted. Once again, the man smirked. Morgana turned her back to him to face her mirror and started brushing her hair. "You still haven't answered my question. What is it you want from me?"
"The murdered woman from this morning—you spoke with her the other night. She gave you something. I want it."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Morgana ran the brush through her long dark hair.
"I think we can both agree I know how to watch unseen. Please don't try my patience."
Morgana reached into a nearby drawer full of jewelry. The man stood and leveled the crossbow at her, wary. Rummaging around, Morgana finally found a ring with a large red stone—a rectangular gem overlaid with a fine gold mesh that looked like a net. She tossed it to the man and he caught it with his free hand, the crossbow in his other one never flinching.
"Having an invisibility ring isn't going to endear you to Uther," she said.
"It makes you invisible?" He examined the ring. Gwen stared agape at Morgana, who bit her lip. He turned the crossbow on Gwen. "How?" he said.
Morgana hesitated.
"I sincerely doubt your king will miss your servant as much as he misses the bounty hunter."
"Just turn the stone into your palm and make a fist," Morgana said.
The man stepped away from Gwen and slipped the ring onto his finger. He twisted it, clenched it, and immediately disappeared—his heavy cloak, his crossbow—everything he had on him, vanished as well.
"You can at least do me the courtesy of letting me watch you walk out of my chambers before I undress for bed," Morgana said loudly into no-particular direction.
"As you wish," they heard his voice say. The door opened and he appeared briefly in the threshold and walked out. Both Gwen and Morgana ran to the door and gaped into the deserted hallway.
"What are you going to tell Uther?" Gwen asked.
"What can I tell him?" Morgana turned back into her chambers. "Uther already knows what the man looks like thanks to Lancelot, and the man is already slated for the executioner's block."
"What about the ring?"
"You think Uther would forgive me for having the ring—or for even talking to Lunette like she was a person in the first place?"
"Well you have to tell him something—tell him the man already had the ring. He did get in here without being seen."
"Is that a lie I hear from honest Gwen?" Morgana's voice was soft, slithery, snide; Gwen was taken aback. "I'm sorry, Gwen—of course, you're right. I should say something to Uther."
Morgana found him in Arthur's chambers. The door was ajar and as she peered into the darkened room she saw Gaius standing beside Uther, looking out the window adjacent to Arthur's bed.
"How can you be so sure he's all right?" Uther was asking Gaius.
"Arthur is the finest warrior in the land—if something had . . . well—I know we'd have heard about it by now," Gaius said.
"No news is good news?"
"He probably just got distracted—he'll come home when he's ready."
Uther said nothing. He stared out the window at the empty streets below wetted by a soft rain.
"Perhaps," Gaius tried quietly, "perhaps it's best that he wasn't here to see Lunette die. Or see her at all."
Uther nodded vaguely.
"Sire," Gaius said after a moment, "you don't really believe Lunette was conspiring with—Simon, if Erbin is correct about his name?"
"Lunette turned to magic years ago—there was nothing you or I could have done to change her fate, Gaius."
"And this Simon?"
"Is a sorcerer, a murderer and will be found. Erbin always catches his quarry."
"Yes, I remember," Gaius said grimly, almost inaudibly. Then, more purposefully, "Erbin seemed to know Simon's identity even before Lancelot gave his information."
"Erbin is not a solitary agent," Uther said irritably, "he has an army of informants. Knowing the way his mind works, Erbin probably inquired about the sorcerer Samuel's family the minute the executioner's ax fell. I doubt a brother was hard to find. Erbin is very thorough—it's why I tolerate him."
"No stone unturned," Gaius said beneath his breath. "Then why go through the motions with Lancelot?"
"Erbin was testing him. Lancelot proved himself a worthy ally in the fight against magic."
"And have I proved myself?"
Still hiding behind the open door, Morgana risked poking her head out, not entirely certain she'd heard the question.
"Gaius, after all we've been through, after all these years—if anyone is beyond reproach, it's you."
"I don't think Erbin agrees with you."
"I am not interested in Erbin's approval. He thinks people can be corrupted by breathing the same air as a sorcerer. I'm a little bit wiser than that."
Behind them, Morgana scoffed, almost laughed aloud. She ducked behind the door again, but neither man seemed to have heard her.
"And last time I checked," Uther continued, "I was king, not Erbin. You have nothing to fear, Gaius."
Uther returned his gaze to the drizzling night. Uther's silence a dismissal, Gaius bowed, and Morgana hurried down the hall to avoid him coming out of the room. Uther, unwilling to go to his own chambers, remained in Arthur's. After hours of worried vigil, he finally fell asleep in a chair, head and arms resting on his son's desk. It saved his life—for Simon, invisible, patient, waited in Uther's chambers, leaving only when a servant entered with a basin of fresh water and confused by his lord's absence went to seek him elsewhere, and the bell tolled the morning hour.
Morgana sat the night in her bed, arms encircling knees curled to her chest. She was still in that position long after the sun had risen and Gwen had entered, opening up curtains and windows.
"Gwen, how would you hunt down somebody who was invisible?"
"I don't know—isn't that the point of being invisible?"
"Yes, it is."
After breakfast Morgana tried to follow Erbin. He spoke briefly with a dozen of his men and then made his way up to the castle wall overlooking the city. It was a favored overlook, and Erbin spent most of the morning there, surveying the city like a hawk on the prowl. He showed no concern for his own safety or that of his men, nor did he attempt to coordinate with the knights of Camelot, though Sir Lamorack had been ordered to see to any request. Erbin simply watched. When Morgana became too stiff and bored tucked around the corner, she turned back inside. Erbin apparently was rooted to the wall for the day.
She discreetly made her way through the corridors down to Erbin's chambers. His room was neatly ordered. Several changes of attire were carefully hung in the wardrobe and extra boots lined the wall beneath one of the windows. Swords, daggers and knives were arranged by descending size on the table, followed by a dozen or more arrows. Three crossbows leaned against three chairs. The blankets of the bed had been pulled up and smoothed out, but the edges hung haphazardly over the side and the pillows had not been fluffed—Erbin had made the bed himself rather than a servant.
On a small table next to the bed, alongside a candle, lay an ornate mirror, round, framed by silver knots and whorls—the entire thing was the size of Morgana's hand. She picked it up, glancing at her own image before tilting it to more closely examine its surface. As she did so, Erbin's reflection appeared, standing in the doorway. Morgana gasped and turned around.
"Pretty little thing isn't it?" Erbin stepped into the room.
"It's beautiful," Morgana swallowed, still gripping the mirror. "It seems out of place with the rest of your things." She glanced around at the room.
"It's quite incongruous, my dear." Erbin slid closer to Morgana. "As are you."
"A girl likes to make an impression," Morgana smiled and sidestepped him, still clinging to the mirror. Erbin grasped her arm—a tight, confining grip.
"Why have you been following me?" His tone was commanding, accusing, and his eyes bored into Morgana.
"I wanted to learn," Morgana met his gaze. "Uther says you're the best—I was studying your methods. Now I suggest you release me. Unless you want it known that you harmed the king's ward."
Erbin pulled the mirror out of Morgana's grasp as he let go of her arm. He brushed off the mirror and examined it as though he himself had just found it. "Perhaps I should tell King Uther," he said before Morgana could leave, "that his ward was . . . examining one of my possessions."
Morgana laughed. "Forgive me that," she said slyly, "but I merely wanted to know how you managed to track a woman who could become invisible, and you weren't in your chambers when I knocked. I got curious."
"I don't recall you knocking, my dear."
"Then be sure to add that you were stalking me when you talk to Uther." Morgana watched Erbin, waiting for his next repartee, but he was staring into the mirror in his hands. "Well," Morgana sneered, "how did you track Lunette when she could disappear into thin air?"
"Not disappear my dear—no no no—she was hiding behind thin air. She was still physically present." Erbin still stared into the mirror. Morgana tilted her head to see better, and she saw it flash—a quick snippet of Simon whetting a dagger replaced Erbin's reflection in the mirror's frame.
A sharp intake of breath from Morgana and Erbin spun around.
"Are you still here, my dear? Your question has been answered." Erbin threw the mirror on the bed and went to the table to pick up one of the swords.
"You use magic?" Morgana was appalled.
"I appropriate the tools I need to fight evil. Do you really want this monster Simon terrorizing your city?"
"I'm more terrified of the monster in front of me. What's it like to be a hypocrite?"
Erbin slammed the sword back onto the table. "Magic is a plague upon this world—I do what must be done. I don't expect a fragile little thing like you to understand the sacrifices that must be made."
"And how many people suffer from this plague?" Morgana closed in on Erbin.
"More than you can imagine, my dear. I have witnessed entire families fall because of one person's weakness. This kingdom nearly fell."
"Entire families slaughtered by your intolerance," Morgana grew livid, "let me guess—you couldn't take chances?"
Erbin smiled—a disturbing, menacing grimace—his face close to Morgana's. "If one link breaks, my dear, the entire chain is broken." He picked the mirror back up from the bed. "Would you like to see the whereabouts of this sorcerer Simon, or would you prefer to see your world undone by negligence?"
As Morgana stared, furious at Erbin, she felt a surge and a golden flash lit up her eyes. The mirror cracked in Erbin's hand, and Morgana's rage turned to surprise and fear. Erbin, unmoved by the useless mirror in his hands, still stared at Morgana knowingly.
"Uther was naïve to keep any child of Rhiannon's—folly I intend to rectify."
Morgana turned and grabbed a sword. "Don't you touch me," she snarled, backing toward the door—too late she realized her mistake in moving away from the weapons on the table. Erbin picked up a crossbow.
"A plague," he repeated, reaching for an arrow. Morgana lunged, slicing his hand—he dropped the crossbow, but grabbed a sword. He ignored his injury. "A plague I will not allow to spread."
"Uther won't—"
"Uther, like always, needs someone to save him from himself!" Erbin's eyes were wide as he advanced, backing Morgana into the hallway. Sir Lamorack, accompanying two of Erbin's men along the corridor, saw her distress and drew his sword—but Erbin's men attacked him first as Erbin cried you won't escape, you witch! and Morgana backed further down the hall.
"Lady Morgana!" Lamorack called out, fighting off Erbin's men.
"She's a witch!" Erbin cried again, his eyes fiery and wild. Morgana swung at him, but he deflected and she returned to the defensive. She heard a noise behind her and on her periphery saw two more of Erbin's men round the corner with swords drawn. In a blink, she turned and ran toward the men. She pretended to trip on her dress, and when they moved to catch her she stabbed one of them, punched the other, and maneuvered past them both. She ran, but was blocked by yet another two of Erbin's men coming down the hall. She glanced behind her to see Erbin and the man she punched advancing on her.
"Somebody help me!" she yelled, backing against the wall. Behind Erbin she noted Sir Lamorack now engaged with three of Erbin's men—two were dead or wounded on the floor.
"Your corruption shall no longer stain this earth," Erbin said, his pace slow and steady.
The two men approaching from down the hall neared her first, and Morgana raised her sword—and one of the men lurched, looking down to his chest where a sudden stream of blood stained his shirt—a thrust from behind. The man's companion looked to see who—and what—had delivered the blow, but there was nothing and his friend fell to the floor.
"I knew it! Accomplice!" Erbin pointed his finger at Morgana and then rushed forward as the second of his men was killed by the unseen assailant. Morgana glanced around but saw no clue as to Simon's position.
"Show yourself Simon, you coward," Erbin pressed his back against the wall opposite Morgana, rotating his sword left and right. "Stop hiding behind your sorceries and face me like a man."
"Cowardice is relative, you leech," a voice said close-by. Erbin perked his ears to pinpoint its origin.
"Your soul need not be lost," Erbin's eyes darted to and fro. Erbin's other man also pressed his body against the wall next to Erbin, searching for a sign of Simon. The sounds of Lamorack's fight carried up the hall.
Morgana felt her sword budge and guessed that Simon had put himself between her and Erbin.
"Do you lack courage?" Erbin continued, raising his voice. "Or do you share in your brother's villainy?"
Erbin suddenly lunged to the side as the sound of sword hitting stone pierced the air. Erbin swung around and a fight ensued. Only Erbin's efforts could be seen, but the sound of sword against sword rang all down the corridor—somehow, Erbin was successfully fighting Simon. Erbin's man jumped forward to join the fray against the invisible enemy, but Morgana blocked him—he sneered at her, poking his sword forward as if she were a child, then swinging with more purpose. Morgana ducked and lunged, driving her sword into his chest from below. Surprised, he fell forward, pushing further onto her sword—she let go and twisted away as he hit the ground.
When she turned, Erbin was still fighting, blood running down his nose and from his injured hand. Sir Lamorack ran to Morgana, putting her behind him. In front of them, Erbin choked and dropped his sword, a hole opening in his chest. He stumbled backwards as if kicked and hit the wall, sliding down to the floor. His body jerked slightly—a death spasm, or perhaps Simon kicked him again. By the time Lamorack reached him, Erbin was dead, and there was no indication whether or not Simon had stuck around.