Chapter 10 The Quest For Arthur

On the morning that Merlin and Arthur arrived in Ealdor two of Arthur's knights made haste from Camelot in search of their Prince. At dawn they roused the old physician from his sleep. He was the only one who knew where the Prince and his servant had gone. Gaius had only just gone to sleep, he had spent all night at Uther's bedside until Gwen persuaded him to leave and get rest. But now the council of lords had decided that Arthur must be brought home: that Uther's heir must be present at the King's death. Gaius was not convinced Uther was dying but without prince or king Camelot began to show some of its former instability.

Gaius at last found his copy of the map to Eadbald's castle. He also produced a copy of the Book of Aidith, albeit written hurriedly by his own hand. He thought better of it than to show his notes on the drawing, since both knights were in it.

"I am sure they would have passed by Ealdor, perhaps if you ask there they can tell you how long ago they left." Rupert gave a curt nod and turned to leave.

'Sir Rupert, ' Gaius called after him and Rupert turned and waited. 'Gaius scribbled a note quickly and handed it to Rupert. 'I would be grateful if you would take this and give it to Merlin. I have grown uneasy of late." But Gaius suddenly thought better of it and began to take it back before it was properly in Rupert's hand. 'No it's alright, it's just a foolish old man making a fuss.'

'I shall deliver it Gaius,' said Rupert with a smile that prompted instant trust in Gaius.

'Thank you.' Gaius sighed and sat heavily on his bed, it was no use trying to sleep now. All this started as a distraction for Arthur but it was fast becoming high drama.

*

Rupert although the senior knight did not have the elevated position that Leon had before the King but amongst the knights Rupert was deferred to. He decided they should travel light without full armour as Arthur liked to do and so they made good speed. As Arthur and Merlin before them they read the journal, which Rupert found most amusing, sometimes chuckling to himself and shrugging when Gawain asked to share the joke. He would then hand over the book with a smile and Gawain would scour the pages and not find anything remotely funny.

When they got to the great dead oak trees, Rupert was quite prepared to whistle all the way across the River Wicci, which elicited some sidelong looks from Gawain. They spent that night beneath the same gnarled oak trees that Arthur and Merlin had camped under and Gawain spread out the map just as Arthur had done. The two men sat side by side, the one youthful, with straight blond hair that he kept sweeping from his face as seemed to be the fashion among the younger men. The other a man of 50 years was darkly handsome and wore a look of serious contemplation as though there was always something interesting playing out in his head with no reason whatsoever to speak it. His silver streaked hair looked as though it had been fashioned out of metal, and fell onto his forehead in large curls. He was bearded which was not unusual for the older knights and his body bore scars that testified to the service he had given his king. One ran the full length of his right arm. But he had never allowed anyone to cut his face, such battle scars he believed testified to bravado or carelessness. His companion however bore his one scar with pride a white line across his right cheek that hardly anyone ever noticed. Gawain had a look not unlike Arthur for he was of the same family but a distant cousin.

'We should arrive at the Castle in eight days,' said Gawain.

'But they will not be there yet,' answered Rupert. 'We may discover them on the way.'

Rupert sat holding the travel journal in one hand, his thumb flicking over the pages.

'I don't like the sound of this Forest of Heaf,' he said. 'A testing ground if ever I saw one. Not the place to be if you have unfinished business.'

'What do you know of unfinished business Sir Rupert,' laughed Gawain. 'An old bachelor like you, who keeps to himself, surely there is nothing dark in your past to come back and haunt you.'

Gawain was fishing, if he got something on Rupert there would be a few free drinks in it when he got back to Camelot.

'One day,' said Rupert. 'I might just divest you of that notion but in the meantime we need to sleep. It will be an early start tomorrow.'

At Ealdor Hunith welcomed them and they learned that they were some five days behind Arthur and Merlin. She packed them meat and flatbread and asked that they call in on their return journey and give her news but Rupert would not promise that as his orders were to make haste. After a brief stay the knights bade her well and rode on, they were now only three days ride from Heaf.

They next camped at a waterfall the waters of which were green and gold. Aidith had written how she had fought a great fish there that had slid out of the water onto land, like a giant snake, but they could find no trace of any such creature, Gawain was relieved, he was not one for facing beasts, and he left that to Arthur, Palomides and their like. Rupert on the other hand was a little disappointed. He had a fine collection of drawings he had made from life. Gaius had long coveted them.

The next two days were hard. The heath land was almost barren though in Aidith's day it was lush pasture. They were no longer in Camelot but in Eadbald's old Kingdom, which was such a fruitless and harsh environment that no-one claimed it. It was only rocky heath or marsh, one arduous the other treacherous. Ahead of them they could make out a greener stretch of ground that oddly seemed to diminish as they drew closer. It was perhaps some trick of the light but once they rode up to the Forest of Heaf, there was little more than a smattering of stunted trees and instead of the immense forest they expected they found the ruins of a great castle. They dismounted and wandered around its walls,

'Over here Sir Rupert,' called Gawain. Rupert followed Gawain's voice around to the east wing of the castle where some of the walls were several feet high. On the tallest wall was a frieze carved into the stone, of life size figures, knights who all bore the same crest of a winter tree. A king stood in their midst with his sword descending on the head of one of his own men.

'Look here Sir Rupert, this one looks like you,' said Gawain. ' Looks like the king has got the best of you!'

Rupert scrutinised the images. 'This does look something like me and that one here like you. The king too, like Arthur.

Gawain began to take the images seriously. 'And there are no opponents but all are enemies as though the same army had turned one on another.'

They found amongst the faces all the knights of Camelot and when done neither man wanted to put a name to what he saw.

'This place is more than it seems Gawain,' said Rupert grimly. 'And if Arthur passed through here he must have seen this which makes our quest more necessary as he must surely be warned of his father's impending death and the calamity to follow, even if it bears a false witness, which I believe it does, we must return Arthur to Camelot.

'What do you think it means then, if not our future?' asked Gawain.

Rupert was silent for a time and he moved farther away from the image to better see it.

'They fight for something so precious that they turn one on another. They each look to the king perhaps it is kingship they fight for. See there, the sword the king holds, is that not like Uther's sword, with the stone at the hilt? His is not so coloured as this one but very like, perhaps that has something to do with it?

'But this ruin is hundreds of years old. How can it depict us so?' said Gawain whose youth was telling in the growing fear in his voice.

'That I do not know Gawain perhaps it does not and it is we who see ourselves in it.'

Rupert looked at Gawain's pale face and inwardly smiled at the young man's worried frown. He laid a friendly hand on his shoulder. 'But come we are wasting time. Arthur is not here, we will camp overnight outside these ruins, for I too am loathe to rest my head here.'

The two men lit a small fire. Their rations were meagre as time was too precious to spend in hunting.