Chapter 9 [Late Afternoon]
After the morning's events, the day meandered by with an increasingly pleasant mood. Sol almost seemed to dance with each cloud against their blue backdrop. The birds sang pleasantly. The flowers seemed to perk a bit more showing a little more of their blossoms. Even a few of the shyest deer came out from hiding to graze or drink from a brook.
Security and Peace seemed to be in vogue.
Well almost everywhere…
[Morgana's Cabin]
Morgana tapped her finger impatiently on the table in front of herself. She awaited Agravaine's update on Merlin's situation. Her plans depended at least in part on Camelot being distracted with a potential war with Nemeth. She'd banked on a crisis over Merlin's trial causing splits in the loyalties among the courtiers, nobles and Arthur's precious knights. She desired to hear about Merlin's fate and particularly how he'd swing at the end of a noose.
Dread burned at her however. Her mind still burned from some sorcerous backlash earlier that morning. Instinct told her that something had gone wrong with the plan. No news had come from Camelot. She felt something had gone awry. Agravaine knows not to fail me! She sucked in a pained breath to collect her resolve. She clenched her fists. Bile bit at her stomach. She recalled how her pleas for help had met with Denial's sting and Rejection's burning. She seethed over being denied the throne.
Well she'd see to paying Merlin back and getting the throne for herself. She'd make sure of those things.
After several more minutes, she decided to check on the greater developments for herself. She set a wooden bowl in the table's center. Into it, she poured blessed water from the lake of Avalon. She pinched a few kinds of colored powders into it. She added a few dribbles of pine resin. Then she stirred the mixture. When she was satisfied that the ingredients had combined, she chanted over it. She passed her hand deliberately over the bowl. She exclaimed, "Fainear Chamelot!" Her eyes glowed bright yellow.
The water frothed and boiled. Steam scented with herbs and aromas filled her nostrils. Within the moving waters, events seemed to come into focus. Images played before her eyes. The scrying spell came into play. She hoped to watch Misery and Consternation driving events. She'd desired to watch her not so dear brother put down his loyal lapdog.
Instead Celebration's pangs slapped her back to the Reality's focus. Her eyes went wide as they observed the events unfolding in front of them….
Arthur planning a patrol of some sort with most of the knights….
Gawain giving Nemeth's knights and the ever obnoxious red headed healer his version of a Camelot tour….
Gaius worked by himself on some cure or other without a care….
Mithian sat by herself in Camelot's royal garden. Contemplation seemed to calm her. Her eyes sparkled. Her mother's necklace reflected Sol's light from where it hung around her neck. A sigh seemed to escape her lips….
Merlin setting up her former bedchamber with his usual aplomb. He tucked in a comforter and plumped two goose down pillows for some guest. Satisfaction's warmth spread a smile across his face…..
Agravaine stewing in his chamber. He glared out the window in her direction…..
Sir Samuel likewise rotting in the very cell Merlin had occupied on the previous night….
"No! No! NO! CURSE YOU, ARTHUR!" Morgana spat. She frowned darkly at the bowl. "How does he do it? HOW?" She backhanded the bowl; Anger's tempest spilling its contents across the floor. She curled her lip not really caring about the subsequent drying mess on the dirt under her feet. She had other matters to attend to. Have your victory, Arthur. You've won one round no more, no less! I have other means at my disposal! She grabbed for a cloak and stepped out of the hovel. Climbing upon a grey pony, she spurred it off to the southwest and her next designs.
Designs destined to shake the bedrock of Camelot itself on many levels…..
