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Chapter Four
The man standing at the window looking out was clean shaven with slicked back dark brown hair. He had hollowed-out cheeks, a sharp nose, and was of a calculating and avaricious nature. Now in his early forties, Daegan had been a child when his cousin, Lord Torr, had married. As Lord Torr's closest male relative, Daegan stood to inherit the title, a significant amount of money, and vast land holdings. He was wealthy in his own right, but he coveted his cousin's title and valuable lands. His expectations grew each year that Lionel's wife failed to give him an heir.
A few years ago an unwelcome bit of gossip came to his ears. One of his stable hands, related by blood to a maid in Lionel's household, had told the man in charge of his stables that Lord Torr was rumored to have fathered a son out of wedlock. Ordinarily, Daegan wouldn't have bothered giving much credence to gossip fourth hand at best had the stakes not been so high. Calling the stable hand in before him, Daegan had promised him a promotion and a tidy sum of money if he could substantiate the rumor, put a name to the now adult son, and pinpoint the man's location. All of which the man had so far failed to do.
Over time, Daegan had decided that either this supposed son did not exist and had been fabricated by the maid, or Lionel, for whatever reason, had no contact with him. None. Nevertheless, a small but persistent feeling of unease continued to nag at him.
Back to the meeting between King Uther, Prince Arthur, and Lord Torr
"Does your son ever exhibit his paintings and so forth at craft fairs?" Arthur asked, on a thought.
"Yes, he's done so in the past," Lionel replied.
The king, following his son's line of reasoning, also anticipated his next question. "We currently have a craft fair in the lower town. Might your son be at that?" Uther asked.
Lord Torr looked thoughtful. "Yes, I would say there's a very good possibility."
"Father," Arthur said, "I'll take a couple of the men and go down there myself." He made to rise.
Uther laid his hand on his son's arm to stay him. "No, Lionel and I will go. I need to get out of the castle for a while, and I want some fresh air. Stay here until we return." To the noble: "Lionel." The king looked at his friend and stopped. The man had an appalled, balky expression on his face. "What is it?"
"I would rather not…..," Lord Torr stammered, apologetically.
"From what you've just told us," Uther said, a bit impatiently, "Your son would not recognize you."
"Does he know of you?" Arthur asked. "Would he recognize your name?"
"I don't know. Becca has been dead for several years. I had no direct dealings with her after I had her escorted from my estate. I always used an intermediary when I sent her money." He took a deep breath and, rather with the air of someone on their way to the gallows, said, "All right, Uther, I'm with you."
Arthur was on his way out of the hall when he met Elyan reporting back to him. "Gaius is back?"
"Yes, sire, he just returned a few minutes ago," Elyan answered.
"Good, I'll check on Merlin myself then probably be in my chambers. Notify me immediately when the knights return."
"Yes, Sire."
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Merlin was feeling very sorry for himself. Tears fell from his blue eyes and rolled down his cheeks. After Elyan had left, Merlin told Gaius what had happened in the dining hall. At least the part he was conscious for. Gaius pulled his ward against his chest and held him for a while.
The door to Gaius' chambers was open a few inches. Arthur pushed it open a bit further and saw Merlin being comforted. Feeling a bit like he was intruding, Arthur backed up silently and was on the verge of leaving.
"How can I protect Arthur now without magic?" Merlin asked, distraught.
Arthur froze. The remark seemed to make no sense. He must have misunderstood, surely. Merlin was sobbing, and he didn't hear him correctly. That was it.
"You mustn't give up so easily, Merlin," Gaius said. "There's an inscription on the bracelet. Let me copy it down, and I'll probably be able to decipher it."
"Okay," Merlin said, in a shaky voice.
Gaius gave him a final hug and stepped back. "Now dry your tears. You'll get your magic back. I'm sure Arthur can survive a few days without your help."
Shaken, Arthur turned and retraced his steps down the corridor as quietly as he could. This was going to take some processing. He stopped and looked around. He saw and heard no one. Good. He needed to be alone right now.
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Justin's mother had told her son who and what his father was. She had explained that he was a married nobleman - close confidant to the king, in fact - and that, regrettably, Justin could have no relationship with him. Several of Becca's male relatives had taken an interest in the boy as he'd grown up, and he'd felt more loved than otherwise.
Justin had grown into a quiet, reserved man, soft-spoken and with an artistic bend. He was of a stocky build with his father's smoky gray eyes, and his mother's straight brown hair.
It was late evening and Justin was packing the unsold artworks from the stall he shared with another artisan. The crowds were beginning to disperse when he heard a murmuring among the remaining fairgoers and a small commotion as the people parted.
"Packing up now, are you?" Uther asked.
Justin looked up, surprised, to see the king, several of his knights and another man standing in front of his stall.
"Sire," Justin acknowledged with a bow. "Is there anything in particular that I can show you?" Thinking perhaps that the king had ventured out to view art.
"No," Uther replied. "I'm here to speak with you. This is Lord Torr, who is - "
"My father," Justin responded, startled into blurting out.
"Well, yes," the king said. He had been going to say 'my friend,' but this settled the question once and for all as to whether Justin knew who his father was. There was silence as both father and son studied each other in their first face-to-face. Lord Torr saw a bit of Becca in his son and the gray eyes from his side of the family. He had a brief moment of intense regret from all the lost years but suppressed it to be dealt with later.
The king looked around at the listening crowd and conferred with his knights in lowered tones. To Justin: "We will continue this conversation in my castle. Finish packing up your things and join us. One of the knights will remain behind to escort you." With that, King Uther had grabbed at the arm of Lord Torr and turned and left through the parting crowd. Overwhelmed and feeling a bit bewildered, Justin stood and watched them until they had vanished from view.
One of the men in the crowd had watched with particular interest. It was the stable hand who worked for Daegan. He hurried off. Daegan would pay handsomely for this information.