TITLE: Solus et Fidelis
AUTHOR: Inukshuk
SPOILERS: None
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "Merlin" are the creations and property of Others, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
FEEDBACK: yes please … writers need food
Chapter 3
Arthur stood beside Geraint Wyndym at the front of the table. He tried hard to ignore the man but Arthur found it difficult. Wyndym's presence was a buzzing in his head – a constant, unshakeable irritant with no known purpose except to plague him. Wyndym was not a knight. He had no physical presence nor imposing stature. He was not aggressive or pompous or needlessly talkative. He was neither bold nor rude; neither slovenly nor drunken. Indeed – had he the temerity to have even one less-than-admirable trait – Arthur might have found it a redeeming quality in the man and an excuse to be at peace with him. It would have been a secret satisfied knowing that Arthur could cherish that this foreign upstart was not at all as perfect as he seemed. Arthur would then resume his status of more than equals. As it was – Arthur ground his molars having to stand beside this man – this impertinent minion – and to watch as his father's gaze fell always first to Geraint Wyndym. That Prince Arthur had been relegated to this second choice status had not been lost on a few perceptive members of the court. From time to time, one or the other would put a drop of poison in Arthur's ear so that even sharing the same room as Geraint Wyndym became an effort in restraint. The other more moderate ones suggested it was nothing but Arthur's imagination. Geraint Wyndym was no threat to King or Camelot; only benefit; he had proven himself worthy of status. Reassurances about Arthur's immutable status as Crown Prince of Camelot had little effect on him. He was Uther Pendragon's only son and heir but felt pushed aside in favour of another.
In those moments when Geraint Wyndym stood at the centre of his father's world, Arthur ached for the chance to battle Geraint – for glory and honour – witnessed by all. It would prove to his father that he indeed was worthy of First Knight. Failing that, Arthur imagined a not-accidental meeting to teach him a lesson. Arthur curled his fingers - fists itchy to pound them into a cheekbone and to pummel a too-soft and youthful face with blows. A swift kick to the side of the knee and the body would crumple. A knife to the throat and Arthur could command from his prey any pitiful begging he could suggest. Mercy would be his proxy for power. Adrenaline suddenly rushed over him at the thought. He snorted through his nose at the flight of fantasy.
It was impossible in Arthur's position to simply pick a fight. He was the Crown Prince and it was not done. To attack one of his father's favourites without reason would see Arthur spending weeks earning back lost status in his father's eyes. Uther Pendragon expected everything of his son – courage, honour, duty, substance. Given the slightest reason, however, Arthur knew his spleen would be well-vented on this scrawny man. From the corner of his eye, he studied him once again. There was almost nothing to him. Was this the body of a warrior? His armour hung about him like a burlap sack. In unguarded moments when soldiers met in the stables and regaled each other of conquests, even Arthur could protest some of the bigger exaggerations about his own exploits. Surely the stories of Geraint Wyndym's skill in battle were overblown in the extreme.
"Geraint Wyndym," The King spoke his name and Arthur hid a glower as he watched his father's face soften with affection – almost pleasure – at addressing him. The king's expression was just shy of a smile and he clearly anticipated with interest the ensuing discourse. "Tell me what you think."
Arthur stood in silence. As if Geraint Wyndym knew anything about Elysia or their army or their strategies. Had he ever visited Corinth? Surely not. Arthur looked around at the other men who had copied his father's interest. It was insufferable in the extreme.
"My liege …"
Arthur bristled; exhaling roughly. It was always "my liege" or "my great honour" with Geraint Wyndym. While the King deserved respect, Arthur felt Geraint's expressions overdone and needlessly saccharine. On more than one occasion, an elder chided Arthur that Geraint Wyndym was from Away and naturally his customs would be different from his. Surely the Crown Prince could be more hospitable and welcoming.
Geraint Wyndym was for the war. Of course he was – Arthur thought. Naturally, a man with only a hammer sees every problem as a nail; a man with a sword sees every problem solved with a war. There was some merit in Geraint's logic and he could maintain his own in a complex debate – enough that Arthur could see the others begin to sway towards his view.
As the discourse went on and it became clear that the prevailing thought was in support of the war, Arthur began speaking up for a contrary opinion.
"It is not our fight." He announced without preamble. "Elysia has taken a few trifling territories away from Cornith. Hardly a field or two of land. Why should we join them? Elysia has taken nothing from us. It is a dispute between two neighbours. That is all."
"Perhaps" Geraint Wyndym conceded in that quiet, inoffensive manner that almost always preceded a counter-argument. "It is not our fight today. What if Elysia believes that Camelot is also desirable to possess? Is it not wise to pre-emptively support peaceful respect of borders? This is the second time Elysia has expanded without consequence. This time, it is over a field rich in copper. Should we let them continue unchallenged?"
Arthur scowled. "They are a strong army. Three times the size of Camelot's. They are well trained. Well fed. Well armed." There seemed to be a sway in silent opinion. Arthur waited.
"A band of allied forces could match them if well led. We will not be alone but joining Corinth." Each word was picked carefully – as if stepping through broken glass.
"Why defend Corinth? Corinth has nothing we value. They have no resources we do not have. We have our own copper fields. No other mines, or crops or knowledge either. Camelot is equal to Corinth." All eyes went back to Arthur. He crossed his arms for punctuation.
"Corinth defines our lands to the north. A safe and peaceful border is of great value, is it not? A faithful friend is valued for more than what can be traded or won."
"Offence will be impossible." Arthur knew he was forcing the issue and his arguments becoming more extreme simply to hold a position that differed from Geraint. "Our forces will do nothing but defend. Defence is no role to play in a war we did not create."
Geraint swept a confident hand over the full width of the map and by doing so, transformed the group with energy. The action seemed to draw in everyone in anticipation of what was to come next. In his right hand, he palmed the markers and began placing them in small but strategic groups. "The Elysian troops are here. If we split into two forces and position ourselves here and here … we can advance in sequence … first here, then here. Leap frog forward – we give the enemy the appearance of one force and we seem not to rest. One advances while the other rests. It will exhaust them and make us seem bigger than we are." He pushed the groups forward and, by doing so, made an obvious cornering of the enemy. "Elysia must either retreat or fight. If we hold the ridge, it would be unwise for them to attack up a mountain. It would be foolhardy and leave many lives lost. Their only option becomes a retreat along the valley floor that we will keep open and make it easy and obvious for them to move."
Uther nodded approval in silence while the other senior courtiers murmured their satisfaction.
Arthur scowled at the logic and the simplicity of the plan. He could find no final argument and willed himself to think of some last idea that would lead Camelot out of war and could find none. He looked around the table. The others continued putting heads together, whispering, pointing and nodding.
It was as if the Royal Court had been suddenly charmed into war by this man. What had he said? How had he come to this strategy? Why had not Arthur swayed them instead? By day's end, an envoy was dispatched to the King of Corinth. Camelot would join the war and provide two platoons; one led by Arthur and one led by Geraint Wyndym.
Arthur felt defeated. Worse, the others began to subtly work on him to reconcile him to the decision.
