The Bet
Even if he hadn't have been there to see the scene, Sir Yvain could have pictured it. He may still be very young, his voice just breaking, his beard bursting out in fits and starts like yellow bushes on his chin, but he already knew the drunken chaos that could ensue when a tournament was done and the Court allowed themselves to celebrate.
The feasting itself was winding down but the drinking was increasing in compensation. Knights roamed the Great Hall of Camelot, slapping each other on the shoulders and sharing ribald stories. Some of the ladies of the Court were starting to disappear to their beds; the more bawdy entertainment of the late evening too much for their sensibilities.
Some of the more drunken nobles had begun ogling and even groping the serving staff, trying to see which of the women would be open to sharing their beds that night. And many of the Knights' and Lords' open admiration for the stunning beauty of the Lady Morgana was beginning to become embarrassing.
He had been in Cenred's Kingdom a month before for the tourney there and had seen debauchery the likes of which would never have been tolerated on his father's estates. Camelot was generally more refined but there were many Knights from bordering estates gathered and things were far wilder than Yvain suspected Uther would have liked.
He glanced over to the throne where the King sat, quietly enjoying a drink with some of his closest allies. He was laughing and joking but his eyes flickered appraisingly to the dissolution unfolding before him. Yvain wondered how long it would be before some of the worst-behaved disappeared to the cells.
The young Knight turned to look at Prince Arthur standing beside him. He had gravitated to him naturally. The man seemed to embody the qualities his father had told him were essential for a Knight. Although he was enjoying a flagon with Sir Leon, another refined man, he was not out of control like so many others here.
"Oh no, there he goes," noted Arthur with a smirk.
"Sire, do you really think this is something we should tolerate? She is practically your sister."
"This has nothing to do with Morgana, Leon," replied Arthur, "this is everything to do with Mellum. He needs to be taught a lesson in humility."
Yvain tried to follow the conversation. He'd obviously missed something important while he'd been surveying the room. Of course, being much younger than most of the other Knights and having been rather isolated while growing up, a lot about the world confused him.
His eyes alighted on the Prince's Advisor, standing next to a dark-skinned serving girl to whom he was talking animatedly. Here was a true Camelot mystery, at least to his mind. Advisors were usually lower-ranked nobleman; educated because their elder brothers had been given the investment in the training needed to attain Knighthood. The equipment and training for the Knighthood was expensive and not all members of large families could be accommodated.
Yet here was a man he had discovered was a commoner; a peasant farmer for some reason made freeman. If that wasn't strange enough, the Knights respected him and listened to him. He was a terrible swordsman, a woeful hunter, an inadequate tracker, and a clumsy fool. Yet, when he spoke, the Knights listened. Arthur listened.
In his very first week in Camelot, he had made his way to the training grounds to practice for the tourney and found some Knights abusing a local peasant for some infraction. He'd thought their behaviour heavy-handed but had not intervened. He was their peasant and it was their duty to discipline him as they pleased.
"Oi, that's enough."
He'd looked around and seen a roughly-dressed man with dark, almost black, hair, enormous ears, and startlingly pale skin, standing by the yard.
"You're supposed to be Knights of Camelot," he continued, "behave like it."
To his astonishment, the Knights had let the boy go and looked ashamed.
"Sorry, Merlin," said one he now knew as Sir Peregrine.
The one they called Merlin had just nodded and moved on, leaving the Knights to avoid each other's glances and get on with their training without saying a word. It was obvious that Merlin's rebuke had shamed them and yet Yvain could not understand why.
Since then, he'd watched the young man, continually astonished at the respect and deference shown towards him. It was a mystery he was determined to unravel.
A laugh by his side drew his attention back to the Prince, who was gazing at the aforementioned Sir Mellum with some amusement. If Mellum was going to be humiliated, Yvain wanted to see it. Mellum did not, in Yvain's opinion, embody the virtues required of a Knight.
"So, what do you think is the best?" asked Arthur with a laugh. "Is it when she rejects their advances or is it when they find out who they've been rejected for?"
"I'm sorry, Sire, I'm afraid I missed a part of the conversation," said Yvain, deciding to be honest.
Leon looked at him and smiled slightly.
"Arthur has bet Mellum a sizeable amount that the Lady Morgana will reject any advances he makes to her. Naturally, he took the bet."
"Naturally," added Arthur, "seeing as he had spent a good hour boasting of his prowess with women."
"And it's when they find out who they've been rejected for," said Leon, "just to answer your question."
Arthur grinned.
"I agree."
Yvain joined them in watching Mellum as he approached the Lady and addressed her.
"Who will he be rejected for?" he asked, curiously.
"We don't say," said Arthur.
Leon just smiled.
"That's a secret, boy. So naturally everybody knows."
Yvain was just about to admit that he didn't, in fact, know when the Lady Morgana reacted to Mellum's proposition by glaring imperiously at him before sweeping on by without deigning to speak.
Mellum responded to her disdain with a rather coarse gesture that must have been accompanied by an even coarser suggestion. To Yvain's astonishment, and if he were honest, amusement, the Lady turned on her heel, walked back toward him and punched him in the nose. Not slapped. Punched.
"Ooh," said Arthur, "that was even better than I expected. My father will be furious."
"With Mellum or with her," asked Yvain. He was still learning what was and wasn't acceptable in Camelot. In his father's court, a Lady behaving in such a masculine way would have been disciplined, despite the provocation. Here, he was starting to suspect, things may be different.
"With Mell..." began Arthur and then stopped as the Lady swept across the room to his Advisor, took his arm in hers and began to leave the room.
"Oh no, with both of them," he corrected himself.
The Lady Morgana and Merlin left through the main doors in full sight of everyone.
"Definitely both of them."