Chapter 2: By Sword or Hammer

"Sometimes, I wish I did not have this body."

"My Lady?"

"This is just awful." Morgana curled up on her side and sighed, staring down at Gwen who sat on the stone floor with a basin of bloody water and a pile of stained rags. A twinge flared and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Bloody awful!"

"My Lady!" Gwen gasped. A small splash.

"Well, it is!" Morgana cracked one eye and met her maid's stare. "It is bloody and it is awful."

"Yes, well…" Gwen looked back down to the basin and continued scrubbing.

"Admit it, it is terrible."

Gwen smiled up at Morgana before looking back down to her work again. She nodded. "It can be difficult."

"Ugh!" Morgana rolled herself onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. "Take away this body and give me a new one… preferably not a woman's again."

"What would you be if not a woman?" Morgana held her maid ringing out one of the cloths.

Morgana eyed the ceiling, taking in the cracks and the stones that had been there for so long. "I suppose I would be a man."

"Would you?"

"Yes."

She heard Gwen's skirts rustling as the other woman got up, footsteps leading to the fire. Pot clanked. Water poured.

Morgana dreaded the infusion. "Must I drink that bitter stuff again?"

Gwen appeared in her field of vision, standing over her, with a steaming cup in her hand. The maid smirked.

Then she spoke. "If you were a man, my lady, you would still have to use this herb from time to time."

Morgana sat up and took the cup. It was, despite the expected bad taste, pleasantly warm in her hand. "Why?"

Gwen settled back down with her washing. "Well…" She stared down at the stone floor and seemed to think for a moment. "It is also called 'soldiers woundwort'. It is good for wounds that bleed, and for your spasms."

"Yarrow is?"

"Yes."

"Mmm." Morgana took a lip sip from her cup. Ugh, bitter, but necessary. Still, she pulled a face. "So if I were a man…" And she took another sip, puzzling the idea out because it intrigued her. Ladies were not asked to think things through. Ladies were not asked much. "If I was, I would be a soldier?"

"Oh." Gwen looked up from her washing, hands dripping. "My lady, that's not what I meant, really-"

"No, no." Morgana shrugged. "I think you may be right, actually. My only skills that I could use as a man would be my practice with the sword."

"You have plenty of other skills." Gwen had stood up by now and was laying the rags out to dry on a little rack by the fireplace.

Morgana took another sip of the stupid bitter drink that was supposed to drive her spasms away but it was doing nothing and she wished now that she had been wounded in battle because anything would be better than this hell! She sighed and set the cup down on the little table by her bed.

"Such as? Singing?" Ha, her singing was dreadful. Arthur had told her so on many occasions. Though she did not much value his opinion on the matter anyway. "Dancing? Riding?"

Gwen turned to face her, poker in hand. "You know your letters and sums."

"True." Morgana nodded. "But who would pay me to read, write, or do sums?"

"Someone, I suppose." Gwen smiled.

"Pah!"

"Needlepoint and spinning?"

Morgana rolled her eyes and laid back down on her bed. "You have seen my spinning, Gwen. I spend one day spinning and the next untangling it." She stretched out, then another wave of cramping forced her to curl up again. "Curse this, curse it all." She grunted and squeezed her eyes closed. "I wish I was a man, that I was a soldier, and that I had been wounded, rather than this. Wounds on the battlefield heal and this wound inside of me never will!"

A moment passed and she felt Gwen's cool hand on her cheek, pulling hair out of her face and smoothing it back. "I'm sorry it troubles you so, my lady, if you would just finish your drink-"

Morgana sighed and she put her hand to Gwen's, holding it. "I know. Talk to me, distract me…"

"What should I say?"

"I do not know… What kinds of skills do you have that you could make a living from? If you were a man, I suppose?"

Gwen's fingers disappeared from Morgana's grip and were soon pushing the hot drink into Morgana's hand again. "I don't think I would want to be a man, my lady."

"Well, then, what do you know how to do? Tell me."

Dishes and silverware clinked. Gwen was cleaning up from breakfast an hour or so ago. "I am a maid. I know how to do that."

Morgana smiled. "And a very good maid at that."

"Thank you, my lady"

"What else?" And Morgana braved sitting up again and took a gulp from her hot drink. She shuddered at the bitterness.

"I know a little about blacksmithing."

That was interesting; a daughter learning her father's trade. "Do you, Gwen?"

"Yes, I have watched my father quite a bit. And," Morgana felt the maid's weight on the side of the bed beside her. "He let me try making nails and other small things. When I was a child," And Gwen began rubbing small circles into Morgana's lower back. "And when I was upset with my father, I would say that I was running away to become a blacksmith just like him." And Morgana heard the girl laugh softly. "I had a little hammer that father gave to me, a small one for a child, and I had planned on taking it every time. I'd wrap it up in a little handkerchief with a sweet cake for my rations."

Morgana sighed and smiled. Gwen's hands were firm and helped with the spasms. And the image of a tiny Gwen with a hammer in one hand and a sweet cake in the other was very precious. "Do you still plan on running away, one day?"

"No, my lady."

"Why not? We could have some perfectly lovely adventures." Morgana took a deep breath and braved another sip of her infusion of yarrow. "I should like to do it sometime."

Gwen was still rubbing her back. "I think it would be dangerous."

"Yes, that is the whole reason!" Morgana stood. Danger was the only reason for anything. Anything worth having, anything worth seeing, or anyone worth kissing… "There is no danger here in court save the rare stray needle that might prick my finger, or- or a funny-tasting strawberry!"

She was facing Gwen, who still sat on the bed, and the maid had a small smile on her lips. "Yes, my lady." She answered properly.

Of course her maid thought she was silly. Of course a lady of court would think that once she left the peerage behind she would have darling little adventures every day. But that was not what Morgana wanted. She had never wanted that. She just wanted something. And this? What she had now? This was nothing.

"I think-" Morgana felt herself pacing around the room now. "I think I should like to be a warrior or a leader of some sort."

"Like the king?"

"No!" Another spasm flared up in her abdomen. Morgana put her hand to her belly. "Well, yes… I don't know."

Gwen stood up from the bed. "I don't understand, my lady."

"Not like a king, Gwen. More like, instead of inheriting a kingdom, or marrying into one, I would prefer to earn it. Through my own strength and intelligence, earn the right rule over a people. Sometimes…" Cup in hand, she walked to the window. "I think about running away with a sword in my hand and the wits in my head and making my own way in the world. Instead of languishing in this tract plowed out for me."

"Really, my lady." Gwen had come beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. She sounded worried. But that was typical Gwen.

It had happened before, many times. Gwen called it one of her 'moods'. Morgana would start thinking out loud, really thinking, and all her thoughts would flow from her lips. It was so stimulating to think about something…anything! But it would scare Gwen. Sometimes, Gwen would smile and nod along with her. Sometimes she would duck her head and stay silent. Why could not Morgana have someone to talk to that was not scared of her? Was that so hard?

"Yes." Morgana answered firmly.

"It would be very dangerous." Perhaps Gwen thought Morgana was making plans. Perhaps Gwen thought Morgana intended to run away, and soon. Because the maid's voice was soft and small. But she did not leave Morgana's side as they talked. Morgana could feel that warm body beside her.

"Yes, it would." Morgana turned to her maid. "But do not worry, Gwen, I would protect you."

Gwen finally smiled again and lowered her eyes. "Would you dress as a man?"

Gwen was probably trying to lighten the mood, Morgana thought. She is a good girl and hates gloom.

Morgana smiled back. "No." She nodded and thought a moment more. "Since I cannot exchange this body for a more masculine one, I do not think I will abandon my sex altogether. No, let any of my enemies know that their opponent is a woman. And if that fact brings them shame, then they deserve that shame and the punishment I would dole out to those that challenged me."

"Sweet words, my lady." Gwen walked back to the table where the spent dishes from breakfast lay.

Morgana followed her. "You think?"

Gwen nodded. "I think you would make a formidable enemy." She set the dishes to the side.

Morgana took another sip of her drink and smirked.

A shout. Running. Quick steps.

The door to her chamber banged open and a blur rushed in. Morgana blinked. Merlin?

The boy slammed the door shut. He was holding a child swathed in a green cloak close to his chest. Both were very pale. Both looked terrified.

Good lord. What is it this time?

Morgana frowned. "Have you forgotten how to knock, Merlin!?"

Merlin looked straight at her. "The guards are after him. I didn't know what to do." Looked right through her. He spoke low and quick.

Morgana felt her gaze slide to the child. The boy looked up at her, unblinking. Morgana could not tear her eyes away. Gwen turned to Morgana, Morgana knew it, but she could not look away from the child in Merlin's arms. Something was there… Something…

"My Lady!"

Loud noises, from far away. Voices.

"My Lady!"

The child blinked and Morgana could suddenly hear the calls of the castle guard from the other side of her door. She started. She looked around. Where? Where could they- The alcove, behind the curtain. She pointed. "In there."

And Merlin took the child's hand and dashed to the alcove.

Morgana walked slowly to the door, making sure that Merlin had enough time to hide behind the curtain. She took a breath then opened the door. Several soldier stood outside the door.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, my Lady. We're searching for a young druid boy. We believe he came this way."

Morgana smiled. And she spoke. "I haven't seen anyone. It's just me and my maid." Me, my maid, Merlin, and apparently a Druid boy.

The soldier who had spoken nodded. "Best keep the door locked until we find him."

"Of course. Thank you."

The soldiers moved away. Morgana closed the door quickly and quietly and hurried back to the alcove. She yanked the curtain aside. Merlin sat on the floor with the boy in his lap. The child was pale and unmoving. And Merlin's hand was covered in blood. Morgana felt something strike at her heart. It beat faster. She looked to Gwen. The girl was terrified. And when Morgana turned her eyes back to the problem at hand, Merlin was there, watching her. She did not know what to do. They were looking at her and she did not have the foggiest idea of what to do. This was just awful.

"The Druid was only in Camelot to collect supplies. He meant no harm. Is it necessary to execute him?" Arthur had hesitated, but once he had opened his mouth the words had tumbled out. He did not see the need. It was useless bloodshed. And letting it happen made his insides swirl like a mess of snakes. But questioning the king, his father? Arthur surpassed a shudder. Would Uther think him weak?

The king answered immediately. "Absolutely necessary. Those who use magic cannot be tolerated." The final strokes were put down on the death warrant and the King put down his quill.

From what Arthur had heard, the Druids were less active sorcerers and more folk healers and people of strange beliefs. Strange, but harmless beliefs. He tried again, testing the waters. "The Druids are a peaceful people."

The king picked up his cup, staring Arthur in the eye. "Given the chance, they would return magic to the kingdom."

Arthur looked down to the table. He did not agree. But he could already feel his king's disappointment in him.

Uther set his cup down and walked around the table, walking away. "They preach peace, but conspire against me. We cannot appear weak."

Weak? Weakness was a blind hate. Weakness was lashing out at any threat without understanding it. What happened to the lessons of discipline and intelligence that he had learned at his father's knee? Were they just all speech and no practice? Arthur almost bit his tongue off. He could not hold it back.

"Showing mercy can be a sign of strength." Arthur threw it out there, let it hang in the air between them.

The king wheeled around to Arthur again. "Our enemies will not see it that way. We have a responsibility to protect the kingdom. Executing the Druid will send out a clear message. Find the boy. Search every inch of the city."

Whatever his trepidation was, his father did not see it. Arthur felt his insides shrivel a little. Either he incurred wrath, or his opinions just bounced off that cold exterior. And there was no telling what it would be. Anger or ignorance. He sighed and followed his father. The castle guard needed orders and he needed to do his job.

Maybe if he had been born different, had a different face, maybe he would make a difference. But no matter. He bit his lip. Keep moving forward.