Beta by Tianne. Thanks as always
Chapter 9
Across the lightning-blasted hills surrounding Camelot, the squawking murder of crows fleeing from the burning trees and wooden houses in the blazing Lower Town, and across the fields of untended wheat and corn outside the city's walls lies Idirsholas.
Inside the ruins, where fire cannot burn until the frozen Knights within them rise again, an old man with hair so grey it was almost white and the robes of a court physician woke up with a gasp.
"Where am I?" he said to nobody. And nobody replied.
The cells were clean. That's what Raven noticed. Oh, they were dark and dank and there were odd skittering noises in the black corner just where he couldn't see. But the guards came in and swept and put down clean straw every day. He had no idea why. When he asked, one of them shrugged and said, "It was already so well-tended. We assumed this was what we had to do."
While the palace guards who had thrown him in here had been belligerent and angry; blaming him for something he couldn't imagine being responsible for (did they forget he had no memory?), the dungeon guards were gruffly affable and seemed disposed to make him comfortable.
He'd spent the first night in confused misery, trying not to sob into the clean straw he had for a bed, but was resigned the next morning to whatever fate had decided to throw at him now. It wasn't, of course, that he suddenly found himself a prisoner. He had suddenly found himself a lot of things the last few days. It was difficult to mourn his life of influence as Lord Raven when he'd had no real idea whether that was him at all.
No, his misery was because his Emerald hadn't come to see him. With each passing hour, he'd expected her to storm into his cell and... well, he wasn't sure. Save him? Commiserate with him? Tell him she never wanted to see him again because of... insert reason he hadn't yet been informed of here. Something. Was he so unimportant to her? Was his sudden change in status enough to make her uncaring?
He shook his head and tugged his breakfast toward him. He had no notion of what had transpired since they'd thrown him in this cell the night before. For all he knew, Emerald was hostage to her own revelations. He shouldn't judge her actions until he knew all the facts.
He sighed as he attempted to soften the hard piece of bread he'd been given. They had not one but two magical enemies. People were dead. The Lower Town was burning. It had been all he could do to stop the insane march to war and now that he was in here?
He stopped chewing for a moment and paused. Now that I'm in here...
Arthur Pendragon, heir to the throne of Camelot and known until recently as the peasant Prat, walked into the Great Hall and stopped before the empty thrones. The room was gloomy and poorly lit; the glass still shuttered against magical threats. The patchworked light from the stained glass windows no longer danced along the floor as it usually did.
Arthur sighed at the bare room and turned to a small sound behind him. Crown... the king... his father stood behind him with a glass of wine in hand.
"Sash and I have decided to repair to the Solar," he said. "It seems a more secure location. But I wanted to speak to you alone before the day began properly."
"Of course... Your Majesty," Arthur said.
Uther Pendragon sighed wryly, "I know, my son. It's strange to find one has such a close relation to someone they do not really remember. In a way, we're blessed to know for sure our true identities. In other ways..."
"I'm more confused than ever," Arthur confessed. "The Prat could be anybody – at least within his social class. Now I... I'm more confused as to who I am."
"You're a prince and a knight and the heir to my kingdom. That is exactly who you are. As to why you were dressed the way you were..."
"I had on Blankie's clothes," he realised suddenly, "I lost my clothes and took Blankie's. Because he's my servant. I must have been in an incredible rush to report to you that way. I must have found out..."
"...this," the king finished, "You must have found out that we were about to be attacked."
"But which attack? The storm or the memories?"
Uther started, "What do you mean? They're the same. It's obvious Mercia is behind this. All of it. We need to strike back. Immediately. I need you to raise the Knights and guards and all the able men of Camelot and ride to war. As soon as possible."
Arthur took a deep breath and tried to adequately word his objections in his mind so he could argue with the other man. Before he could speak, however, the king was already deep into a new thought.
"I've given considerable thought to Raven... Merlin. According to the scroll he is your manservant. There's only one conclusion I can come to as to why he was dressed as a nobleman in that room and to why he took a position of responsibility. He's a traitor. He was working for Mercia and was planted to frustrate our efforts to strike back."
"Sire," Arthur protested.
"No arguments. It is the only explanation. I've discussed the issue with Sash and Gaius and we are in agreement. He must be executed. Publicly."
Arthur tried to assemble his thoughts but found he had too many to articulate. If only I knew more about what was going on. If only I knew...
"Sire," he said, "I've observed Raven closely for the last few days and I simply don't believe..."
"Enough. I understand your position but you must understand mine. Raven is obviously a skilled deceiver. I've already had a blazing row with Emerald... Morgana... on this issue. She is his biggest victim in all of this and unfortunately it means her judgement cannot be trusted. She's convinced Merlin is innocent of intrigue and that we should not pursue war until we have more proof. What more proof do we need?"
He laughed slightly, "Do you know she actually counselled me to use magic to try to fight this evil?" He shook his head in disbelief.
"You are the prince now. You have responsibilities. I expect you to be a loyal son of Camelot and that means waging war and leaving behind any allegiance you may have to that... upstart peasant."
"Yes, Sire," Arthur said, "of course. My loyalty was never an issue and I will support your decision. But please don't execute Raven yet. Keep him imprisoned of course but don't kill him. Not until we have proof he was working for Mercia; not until we know more."
"Very well," Uther said, "I don't agree but you're my son and so I will respect your recommendation. Raven stays in the dungeons until we know more. But when we do, he dies."
Arthur nodded and then left the room, his mind still working over the mysteries. Still, it's good to have the king listen to me for once. It's good to have someone listen when you speak. Very good.
Morgana put the book down with a thump and slammed it shut; the noise startling her servant who was also reading in a chair by the window.
"Are you alright, My Lady," Gwen asked her.
Morgana's lips moved slightly in emulation of a smile, "I'm fine, Mo...G..., what should I call you?"
"The scroll says my name is Guinevere," she said, "but I... it feels a little too ornate for me."
"How about Guin?"
Guin smiled, "That sounds better. More like me."
"And you can call me Morgana, since it is apparently my name. Assuming we can believe that rather convenient scroll."
"Convenient?"
Morgana sighed, picked up the book she had been reading and added it to the pile. She grabbed a new one, put it down, picked it up again and then turned back to her maid.
"The more I think about it," she said, "the more I feel like a puppet dancing to somebody else's tune. Raven... oh, what was his name again?"
"Merlin," Guin said, "The scroll said his name was Merlin."
"Merlin opposed this war. He approached the situation logically, compassionately and systemically. He believed we needed to discover what was happening before we could choose a course of action. Someone went to a great deal of trouble to obscure our identities and then - voila! Not only do we find a scroll that outlines in detail the identities of all the key players in our little saga. No, it conveniently discredits the one person who was building up this kingdom and taking care of its people rather than marching us all off to war."
"You think it's part of somebody's plan?"
"I think everything has been stage managed perfectly. Except Raven refused to stay to the script. If it wasn't for him, we'd already be at war. And now that he's out of the way..."
She sat back down at her dressing table and opened the book; hoping that it would have the spell she was looking for. Then she grimaced and swung angrily back around to her servant.
"And then that... Uther... or whatever the hell is name is has Raven arrested like some common criminal and locked up in a dungeon. He won't even let me visit him. Without Raven's kindness, his intelligence, his cunning, his... I just don't know what we will do without him."
"But, the Prat...," Guin started to argue.
"...has just found out he's the great Prince Arthur. Do you really think he's going to stand up to the king?"
"Yes," Guin said, "I do."
"Oh, Guin, please, for your own sake don't hold your breath in anticipation. I like the Prat, I really do. But he's no Raven."
Guin pursed his lips in temporary anger, turned back to her book and then slammed it down in frustration.
"I'm sorry, My Lady, but I need to speak my mind. Maybe Arthur hasn't shown himself to be the man Raven is. I would argue that that is because he hasn't had the opportunity. If the Prince's manservant can be a great leader than surely the Prince himself just needs the chance."
"I hope you're right, Guin, I really do. Otherwise, a lot of people are going to die. Now, no matter what our king says, we need magic to fight this magic. We need to find something to break this spell."
"It's not going to be much good to us unless we find a sorcerer to cast it."
Morgana gave her a glum look, "I know. I just..."
"You miss him," Guin said with a sympathetic look.
"I miss him," Morgana admitted softly, "These last few days, no matter what happened, as long as he was there holding my hand..."
"He made you feel safe?"
"No," Morgana said with a haunting look moving down her face, "He made me feel strong enough to keep myself safe. He made me feel as though we could make the world better, make people's lives better just by getting out of bed in the morning. He made the fight seem winnable."
Guin pushed the book off her lap and stood up, took the two short steps to her mistress and placed her hand softly on her shoulder.
"If that's true, My Lady," she said. "Then why on Earth are we sitting here reading?"
The Lady Emerald stood up, clasped her servant's hand to her breast and nodded.
