Author's note

Apologies for the delay – blame a holiday on a Greek island! Anyway, this chapter is longer than intended because of a longer than anticipated flashback at the end. It's not the most action packed flashback, but I REALLY think it's required to make more sense of what is said later. Hope you enjoy it anyway. And a lot more was written on the beaches – just needs to be typed up (sun, sand and laptops don't really go together). Probably no more updates though for a couple of weeks.

Chapter 12

The raven flew in through the window, through which the sun was filtering, piercing the gloom of the overgrown ruin. The fluttering of its wings and the caw it let out as it came to rest on the ancient stone caused Morgana to turn away from the men with whom she was consulting and walk over to the bird with a sense of anticipation, wondering what news it brought of her enemies in Camelot. The bird allowed the witch to remove the small rolled up scroll of parchment that had been tied to its leg, and as she carefully smoothed it out flat, her heart beating fast, a smile of satisfaction spread across her face as she read the hastily written words on the small square: The king is wounded, and is being taken to Brinived by Merlin. The two of them ride alone.

Her next move was finally clear to her: she would hunt them down and kill them both – Emrys may have powerful magic, but she was a high priestess of the old religion. And that knowledge made her feel invincible.

~~~ O ~~~

And far away, the person by whom the note was supposedly written walked out slowly to face the hangman's noose under the impassionate eyes of the queen. There could only ever be one punishment for the sort of treason that had betrayed not only the king but the whole of Camelot to their most dangerous adversary. The courtyard was filled with the red of both the knights' cloaks and the guards' livery, and townsfolk mingled among the soldiers awaiting the grisly spectacle. And two others also watched in silence from above, through an open window in the walls of citadel. Percival laid his hand on Gwaine's shoulder as Eira was led up to the steps of the gallows to the awaiting noose, conscious of the feelings the other had had for the betrayer – but Gwaine knew where the real blame lay. And as the wooden block on which she stood was kicked away, leaving Eira's lifeless body swinging gently at the end of the rope, Gwaine spoke, still with his eyes fixed on the platform in the middle of the square: "You know what you said you'd do if you ever found Morgana?"

Percival turned and stared at the other knight, who laid out his plan with just one more sentence: "We've a good idea where she'll be heading."

And within the half hour, the two knights were riding out with as much speed as they could coax from their steeds, riding in the direction of Brinived.

~~~ O ~~~

Meanwhile, heading in the opposite direction, Merlin and Arthur had entered into a large forest, whose tall trees were spaced far enough apart to allow a good amount of light to filter down between their leaves. They'd made reasonable progress during the morning – until, that is, Merlin suddenly heard Arthur calling out to him weakly from behind. He reined in his horse, leapt off and was at Arthur's side in not much more than a few heartbeats, but before Merlin could ask what was wrong, Arthur uttered just four words: "I don't feel well." And Merlin knew from the colour he'd gone, that he wasn't talking about his wound.

"Come on – I'll catch you, " said Merlin, as Arthur leaned forward on the horse, slipped his left foot out of the stirrup and began to slide that leg slowly over the back of the horse. Gravity did the rest of him, and true to his word, Merlin was there to break his fall if not exactly catch him.

The inelegant dismount that left Arthur closer to being on all fours that standing, did at least mean that he was near to the ground as his stomach rejected the breakfast Merlin had prepared for him some hours earlier. Merlin remembered enough of Gaius's tuition to know that it had nothing to do with the food itself and everything to do with the constant pain that Arthur was in. Merlin knelt down beside his friend and placed his hand on his shoulder, staying there with him until there was nothing left for his stomach to expel.

"Is that it?" asked Merlin.

Arthur replied, head still down, with a wordless nod, and not for the first time on the journey, Merlin would have gladly swapped places with Arthur and borne his pain and discomfort. As Merlin began pull him as carefully as he could to his feet, he said, "I'll fetch you some water – we can rest here for a little while." Arthur gave another pained nod to acknowledge Merlin's words, and together they stumbled over to the nearly horizontal trunk of a fallen tree. Merlin, with Arthur's arm wrapped around his shoulder, sat both of them down on the trunk and gently extricated Arthur's arm and lowered it to his side. But as he went to stand, he felt Arthur's hand suddenly upon his arm, silently asking him to stay seated beside him.

"What is it Arthur?"

And when Arthur answered, he finally raised his head to look at Merlin, asking quietly as he did, "How did you know it would be Mordred?"

The question seemed to come out of nowhere, but the truth was that Arthur had – in his more lucid moments – been turning unknowns over in his mind during their ride that morning, and he'd remembered Merlin's words from two days previously, about knowing that it was Mordred he had to stop. Merlin paused before answering – he thought of Kilgharrah's words to him all those years earlier:

"Once before I warned you of the druid boy. It is his destiny to bring about Arthur's doom."

And he thought of the words of the prophecy brought to him by Finna:

"Let loose the hounds of war. Let the dread fire of the last priestess reign down from angry skies. For brother will slaughter brother. For friend will murder friend. As the great horn sounds, a cold dawn at Camlann. The prophets do not lie. There Arthur will meet his end, upon that mighty plain."

But Merlin wasn't about to tell Arthur of prophecies that spoke of his death, so he chose another explanation.

"When we were on our way to Ismere, and we came across that village that had been destroyed, I… I heard the voice of someone calling me. I followed the voice and went into a cave."

Merlin looked steadfastly ahead of him, not wanting to meet Arthur's eyes.

"That's where you found the old man, the druid – you were upset by his death, weren't you?" Arthur spoke the words slowly but deliberately as he cast his own mind back to that day.

Merlin continued, rather than answer Arthur's question: "He… he spoke to me about you. He was a Vates, a seer, and he showed me a vision… I saw a battlefield….. the sky was red like blood and there was a terrible war – bodies were lying everywhere. I heard the sounds of fighting, the cries of men dying." Merlin paused and took a deep breath: "And then I saw Mordred walking across the battlefield, surrounded by flames. And then…. then I saw you, Arthur. You saw Mordred and stood there staring at him." Merlin's voice dropped until it wasn't much more than a whisper. "When he drew his sword against you, you blocked his blow. Then I watched as… as Mordred thrust his sword into you. And when he drew the sword out again, you fell to your knees before him."

Merlin fell silent, and after a moment Arthur asked in a quiet voice, "And then…..?"

"And then you walked into the cave and found me there."

Arthur remembered the look of distress and horror that he'd seen on Merlin's face – he'd thought it was Merlin grieving for the dead druid, but Arthur suddenly realised with a shock that his friend's pain and anguish had been for him.

But Merlin hadn't finished what he wanted to say. "I tried to warn you – but it didn't make any difference. And I knew later from another prophecy that it would be at Camlann that Mordred would strike you down – but I knew I couldn't stop you..." Merlin's voice became a whisper once again. "Even if you believed me, and even if you knew what was coming, it wouldn't stop you..." Merlin's voice trailed off completely, and he looked away suddenly, and Arthur watched as his servant wiped a sleeve across his face. And Arthur suddenly felt that he didn't deserve the faithful love and service that Merlin had given him.

Merlin suddenly rose to his feet and, again without looking at his companion, said simply, "I'll fetch the water." He left Arthur on the tree trunk and walked over to the horses, pulling out from the saddle-bag the water skin he had filled that morning. He glanced back at Arthur but saw, with a sudden anxiety, that he had slumped forward. He ran back with the water, saying as he did so, "Arthur – you need to hold on."

Once again he sat beside him and took hold of his arm, "One more day," but was suddenly frightened by the double meaning of those words – it was not only how long it would take them to get to Avalon – it was also all the time Arthur had left…. if they were lucky. As he pulled him upright, he repeated "one more day," in an attempt to encourage him to keep going. But Merlin couldn't escape what he could see clearly in front of him: Arthur was weakening by the hour and finding their journey increasingly hard.

Merlin drew a damp cloth across his brow and face to try to cool him slightly, studying him carefully as he did so. At first he seemed barely conscious, oblivious to Merlin and his actions and with exhaustion written over his face, but then –despite still appearing dazed – he seemed to become slightly more alert. Without looking at him, as Merlin began to take the stopper out of the water skin, Arthur asked in a quiet voice, "Why did you never tell me?"

Merlin looked at him intently, and started, "I wanted to but….," and then paused.

Arthur turned himself slightly towards Merlin, but still seemed in a daze as he asked, "What?"

And with the hint of a smile Merlin answered the question: "You'd have chopped my head off."

He put the water skin to Arthur's lips and raised it, so that he could quench his thirst, and when he'd drunk all he wanted, Arthur let the water skin down again so he could speak, adding more thoughtfully, "I'm not sure what I'd have done."

And still looking intently at the king, Merlin added, "And I didn't want to put you in that position."

Arthur turned his head to face Merlin properly, as if he'd suddenly been shaken from his stupor, and asked with a surprised tone in his quiet and weary voice, "That's what worried you?"

Merlin turned his eyes slightly away from Arthur's as he formed his words with thought and feeling: "Some men are born to plough fields." He then raised his eyes to look directly at his friend. "Some live to be great physicians, others….." and he added with a smile, "to be great kings. Me…. I was born to serve you, Arthur. And I'm proud of that." And the pride showed clearly on his face and in his voice. "And I wouldn't change a thing."

Arthur looked at Merlin and marvelled, and in his heart there was an ever growing and profound gratitude at having such a loyal and gifted servant – and not a small amount of amazement that a powerful sorcerer should willingly put his gifts at the service of a friend, a friend who had rejected for so long the magic that was so much a part of who Merlin was. But suddenly it was Merlin's turn to cast his mind back, as his own words about those born to be great kings lingered in his consciousness…..

~~~ O ~~~

"I would never call you fat, Arthur!" protested Merlin.

Arthur pushed the empty plate away from him, the solitary chicken bone being the only evidence of the ample serving that had graced the plate only a short while earlier. "Well, that's a lie for a start!"

Gwen's long pearl earrings danced from side to side as she put her head back and laughed as the two men started sparring at the meal table – yet again.

"I was merely saying…" Merlin slowed his words as he desperately racked his brain for some way of redeeming a phrase that was clearly a less than subtle reference to Arthur's weight.

Arthur leant forward on his arms that were by now crossed on the table, "Yes, I'm waiting…."

"…that….."

"Yes…."

But a knock on the door saved Merlin from whatever punishment may have been meted out on him by Arthur for implying – again – that he was getting fat.

"Come!"

The door opened at the king's command, and Merlin stood back from the table as Sir Leon entered, a sense of urgency in his stride and on his face. "I'm sorry to disturb your majesties – "

"What is it, Leon?" asked Arthur as he folded his napkin, sensing that their mealtime was probably about to be brought to an abrupt end.

The knight stood and faced the king, "It's Lot, sire. He's dead."

Arthur was on his feet immediately - as if to be ready for action - knowing the significance of the death of the king whose lands bordered those of Camelot. "How? When?"

"We've only just received word, sire. It was a few days ago apparently – thrown from his horse if the reports are to be believed."

"An accident?" asked Gwen, with surprise in her voice, wanting to clarify the knight's words.

"As far as we can tell."

Arthur suddenly seemed to be lost in thought, and began to pace slowly around the table, as he turned over in his mind the implications of the death of the last neighbouring kingdom that was still hostile to Camelot.

Gwen turned her head towards her husband: "He has two sons, doesn't he?"

Arthur nodded, "Gaheris and Gareth. Twins in fact, but Gaheris was the first born, so he will be king."

"What's he like?"

Gwen's question sent Arthur's mind back to his meeting with Lot and his two sons just a few years earlier. It had been shortly after Lot had seized most of Cenred's lands after his death. Uther had still been king, but incapacitated following Morgana's betrayal. Arthur had asked for a meeting on neutral territory, seeking peace, but had ultimately found none. And Lot had been a thorn in Camelot's side ever since – always hostile but never declaring outright war. Arthur began, "Gareth is like his father: impetuous, proud, stubborn. But Gaheris…..? Gaheris is different. He's quieter than his brother, and not as forceful, but I'm certain he wants something different – and this could be the once chance we have to bring it about."

Merlin watched his friend – and had faith in his judgment, whatever it would be. But it was Gwen who asked the obvious question: "So what do you mean to do, Arthur?"

The king finally stopped pacing and looked up at the other three. "I will call a meeting of the Round Table and propose that we send a delegation – that we visit Gaheris on his own territory. I will speak to him, and – if he will accept it – make a treaty and offer our support."

Leon hesitated, but then spoke: "Is that wise, sire? Lot may be dead, but there are many in his court who are no friends of Camelot. They may view such a delegation so soon after Lot's death with deep suspicion and use it as an excuse to accuse us of hostile intentions, even of spying. And being on their territory makes us vulnerable."

Any knight under Uther's rule would not have dared to question the king's judgment so freely, but Arthur had invited a different approach, and he welcomed the opinions of his knights, whether they were sitting at the Round Table or not.

"True, Leon – but if Gaheris is less forceful than members of his council, the longer we leave it, the more they are likely to be able to impose their ways on him. We have to take risks if we are going to make progress – and making ourselves vulnerable may be more likely to win us the trust of Gaheris. Besides, they know that our kingdom is far stronger than theirs at the moment, and I do not think for a moment they would be so foolish as to take advantage of our vulnerability and risk bringing the wrath of Camelot down on themselves."

Silence fell on the room for some moments, as each contemplated what was being proposed. But there was one person in the room who more than any other understood the significance of what Arthur wanted to attempt – and that was Merlin. As Arthur's eyes moved between the other three, they met those of his servant, and as they met, Merlin uttered a single word: "Albion."

Arthur nodded, and Merlin continued: "Peace between the five kingdoms and beyond."

And when Arthur spoke again he somehow looked taller, as if drawn up into a calling and purpose that were far greater and far wider than himself or Camelot alone, and there was a faraway look in his eyes: "Not even in the time of Bruta will there have been so much of the land at peace if Gaheris can be won over."

And a silence that seemed imbued with the weight of destiny descended on the room as queen, knight and servant beheld King Arthur.

It was only a matter of a week later that the delegation from Camelot drew near to the gates of the large town that had been Cenred's and then Lot's and was now the seat of power for the newest king in the lands. The forests and moors that had been their surroundings for most of the journey had given way to more gently rolling hills, many of which were farmed, and Merlin had noted that the lands of Gaheris's kingdom were not so very different from those of Camelot. Not all was similar however. There seemed to be a greater fearfulness about the small villages they had passed near – and a greater poverty, which Merlin had guessed was the result of a succession of kings who cared more about their aggrandisement and their political power than the needs of the common people.

Those same characteristics of the land were in the town as they passed through the gates, and Merlin surveyed the harsh outline of the stone citadel that was at the centre of the town – it had none of Camelot's beauty about it, but was nevertheless well situated with an unbroken view over most of the surrounding countryside. He rode at Arthur's side at the head of Camelot's twenty-strong delegation, consisting of many of Arthur's most trusted knights and advisors, although he had left Gwen back at Camelot, conscious of not wanting to place both of them at once in a position of vulnerability. It was, of course, not normal for a servant to ride beside a king, but theirs was not a normal relationship and no one in Camelot thought it strange any more that Merlin should be at Arthur's side. As the walls loomed large, Merlin glanced sideways: "Nervous?"

Arthur shook his head, "No, but I'm not complacent either." And after a pause he added quietly, "Let's just hope my plan works."

Merlin looked at Arthur sharply, and whispered "You have a plan?" and there was more than a hint of alarm in his voice as he spoke.

Arthur smiled, amused at his response: "Well, more of an idea…"

"And were you thinking of letting me in on this idea?" hissed Merlin.

Arthur laughed: "No! Not yet, at least. To be honest, it's only just come to me!"

The alarmed look that persisted on Merlin's face softened Arthur's resolve, however, and he sighed, knowing that he was likely to be badgered by Merlin until he had given him at least something more. And once again he spoke quietly so that others couldn't hear: "Later - I'll tell you when we get to my room."

Their arrival wasn't, of course, a surprise. A carefully worded letter bearing the official seal of Camelot had been sent the day after they had learned of Lot's death, in which Arthur offered his condolences and spoke of wishing to greet the new king, but giving little away of his intentions. They had received a civil but equally carefully worded reply, not exactly welcoming their visit but neither refusing it. And so when news of the delegation's imminent arrival was given to the king, he and Gareth and a sizeable number of both his council and his soldiers were waiting for them. The castle had no main courtyard like that of Camelot, although it did boast an imposing flight of dark stone steps that led up to the main entrance. The first thing Merlin noticed was that although Gaheris and Gareth were twins, they were far from identical – an, if anything, Gareth was the more imposing of the two. Although he stood probably half a hand-breadth shorter than his marginally older brother, he was blessed with good looks and broad-shouldered, and certainly had an air about him – although Merlin would probably have called it arrogance. Gaheris, on the other hand, was taller but thinner, and was the darker of the two – and certainly didn't look like a natural soldier. There was something about him, however, that Merlin immediately warmed to, which only seemed to be strengthened by their first encounter.

Arthur and the party from Camelot dismounted, and Arthur handed the reins of his horse to Merlin as he stepped forward to greet the king and his brother. Merlin's impression of Lot's first-born son was that he was slightly in awe of Arthur, but trying not to show it – and it was true that Arthur's reputation was by now known throughout the five kingdoms and beyond. And certainly the party from Camelot in their red livery, with their golden dragons shining in the late afternoon sun, was an impressive sight. Their red and gold mingled with the emerald green of their hosts' cloaks, which were all emblazoned with the silver-grey hawk that had been Lot's emblem and which had now passed to his sons.

Gaheris stepped forward to clasp Arthur's hand, saying as he did, "You and your men are most welcome, Arthur," and the warmth of his greeting seemed almost incongruous given the hostility of his father towards Camelot.

But Arthur immediately deferred to him: "Your majesty," bowing his head slightly both to acknowledge and greet the new king. He then continued, "Thank you for welcoming us at such short notice, and may I offer once again to you and your brother – " he glanced sideways and nodded towards Gareth, "- my condolences on the loss of your father," adding with sincerity in his voice, "I know how hard that can be."

And with that the welcomes and introductions continued, ending with an invitation to the banquet that night, with Merlin watching each person carefully , endeavouring to weigh up whether friend or foe and, as always, mindful for Arthur's safety.

Merlin stood in the middle of the room that was to be Arthur's. The green and grey of the kingdom's colours dominated the furnishings of the modest rather than large room. A rather imposing four-poster bed did, however, dominate the centre of one of the stone walls, and shields and stags heads adorned the stonework around the room. Merlin had briefly wondered on walking in whether the room had belonged to Gaheris when he was prince rather than king.

"And your plan?"

Merlin had scarcely put down Arthur's bags when the question was out of his mouth – though it came out somewhat breathlessly after the exertion of dragging the heavy bags up the stairs by himself.

Arthur gave something approaching an exasperated sigh at the concerned expression on his servant's face. "Honestly, Merlin, I sometimes wonder if you ever think that I'm capable of having a single good idea of my own!"

"No….," but there was a noticeable hesitancy in Merlin's one word response that made Arthur cast his eyes to heaven and shake his head in mock despair.

Merlin wisely didn't wait for the inevitable disparaging response before continuing: "So, what is it then?"

"Well, when you've finished unpacking my bags I might tell you."

Merlin immediately protested, "I can unpack and listen at the same time!" throwing himself into opening Arthur's bags and emptying their contents onto the bed in a rather haphazard manner, as if to prove his point.

"Given, Merlin, your normal difficulty in completing seemingly simple tasks – NOT ON THE FLOOR! – I doubt that very much! But seeing as you're so keen to find out…" And with that, Arthur outlined what turned out to be a simple but astute (even by Merlin's standards) idea.

And when Arthur had finished explaining, he fixed Merlin with a stare: "So…?"

A look of incomprehension settled on Merlin's face: "So what?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, "And you accuse me of being the slow one!" And he then continued in a voice fairly heavily laden with sarcasm: "So…. does it meet with my servant's approval? - though heaven knows why I'm asking!"

Merlin's incomprehension melted into an impish grin, which was sufficient to give Arthur his answer.

Arthur shook his head and sighed in mock exasperation, but he did allow a little smile to form on his face as he did so. "Just make sure I get to talk to Gaheris on my own – and make sure the others know that too."

The banquet may not have been as lavish as those normally served in Camelot, but it was welcome after the long journey. Roasted chicken and pork were laid out on long wooden platters, with vegetables and tomatoes around the meat more for decoration than as a significant part of the meal, with baskets full of fresh bread liberally scattered around the tables, and deep bowls of pears poached in red wine waiting to be served after the meat. The atmosphere was polite rather than relaxed or convivial, and it was clear than neither of the two courts entirely trusted the other. The seating spoke of that suspicion, with those dressed in red and gold on one side of the square horseshoe, and those bearing green and grey on the other. The only point of immediate contact between the two courts was Gaheris and Arthur on the head table, with Leon on Arthur's left and Gareth on the other king's right.

There were two short speeches from both kings, each wishing the good health of the other and their kingdom, but it was as the meal was drawing to its close that Arthur made his move, taking the opportunity given by Gareth being engaged in conversation by the person on his other side. "Gaheris, would you do me the honour of walking with me?"

Gaheris nodded, but looked around him somewhat anxiously, clearly conscious of what others of his court would think. Arthur added quietly, with a smile, "Have two of your guards follow us – I wouldn't want any of your court thinking I intended you harm."

As Arthur rose to his feet, his eyes met those of Merlin and an unspoken understanding passed between them. As the two kings left the table together, every eye was suddenly upon them, and Gareth began to get up, clearly thinking that this was an encounter that shouldn't happen without him also being party to it. But as he rose, he must have knocked his plate and cup – at least, that was what he thought – as their contents suddenly ended up spilled down his front. But no one, of course, saw the flash of Merlin's eyes before he turned his head away, looking the picture of innocence. Another member of their council who had risen suddenly to his feet found that he was suddenly and inexplicably taken by a bout of dizziness – courtesy of another glance from Merlin – and had to sit down again within seconds. Gwaine and Percival were also on their feet but chose to linger by the doorway having a good natured disagreement after the kings had left, effectively causing something of an obstruction for any who chose to follow.

The long empty corridor echoed slightly to the footsteps of the two kings walking together, the guards Gaheris had summoned following at a discreet distance.

"Thank you for your willingness to talk privately with me," began Arthur, and Gaheris's face flushed slightly, feeling he had in a small way pleased Arthur Pendragon. Much as he was conscious of his overwhelming sense of responsibility towards his own kingdom, Gaheris nevertheless desired good relations with the strongest kingdom in the land, if only that could be done in a way that his people could accept – not least those on the council. He had never been sure of his father's motives for maintaining such a hostility towards Camelot, and in his view, it had never done their kingdom any real good, and had – if anything – only served to be a drain on their limited resources.

Gaheris turned and smiled at Arthur who, although younger than him, had already had a number of years of ruling Camelot, and he replied with a simple, "I'm glad you came."

"I hope you can believe me when I say that Camelot has no desire for anything except peace between our kingdoms. I do not seek to extend its borders and wish only for my people – and yours – to be able to live out their lives without fear of violence or war. I suspect most of our subjects care little for the politics of kings and courts, and simply desire to be able to work the land and provide for their families in safety."

The two men paused by a square window set into the dark stone, and together looked out over the town, silhouetted in moonlight.

Gaheris nodded in agreement, "I share your desires, Arthur."

"And your brother?"

Gaheris smiled: "His appearance may be deceptive. He has lived his life knowing that he is unlikely to be king, and he enjoys the freedom that gives him to pursue his hunting and fighting."

Arthur interjected, "Then I hope to hunt alongside him one day when I have earned his trust."

The other continued, "He likes to know what is going on, but is happy to leave the weightier matters to me. I doubt if he cares too much what happens, as long as it doesn't disrupt his pursuits too much!"

Arthur smiled, but then became more serious: "And the other members of your council…." He paused, knowing that he had to tread carefully, and turned to face Gaheris to allow the other king to meet his gaze: "Can I ask you – would they make a treaty with Camelot difficult?"

Gaheris looked him in the eye, as if weighing up whether to trust him with an honest response. He had heard how Arthur had not only made peace with Annis and Odin, but had shown himself to be true to his word in his dealings with others – and he decided to speak the truth to the young king who faced him. "I fear that my father has left a legacy of suspicion and a number who hold influence in the council are hungry for power. I don't trust them – and fear what they might do to get their own way and keep my father's hostilities alive."

"How many do they number?"

Gaheris paused as if mentally naming them to himself: "Five, maybe half a dozen at most – but they stand together."

Arthur smiled, almost mischievously, "Then give them to me!"

Gaheris' brow furrowed in puzzlement at the words, and looked enquiringly at Arthur as the two continued walking along the still deserted corridor, "Meaning….?"

"I would like to propose an exchange….."

"Go on…."

"Give me those six men for a month – maybe two – and in return I will leave you six of my best men – good men, whom I trust and whom I know will support you and share with you some of the ways of Camelot, should you desire or think it helpful."

Gaheris was, by this time, intrigued: "And what of the six of my men who will go with you?"

Arthur smiled, "At best they will learn to trust Camelot when they see we mean them and you and your kingdom only good. They may learn a different way."

"And at worst?" asked Gaheris.

"At worst it will keep them out of your way as you establish your way of ruling, your kingship."

Gaheris raised his eyebrows and gave a little smile at the unusual proposition and the prospects it held.

Arthur looked steadily at the new king: "I am, of course, asking you to trust what I say. You have only my word."

"I believe I have a lot more than that Arthur." Arthur looked at him quizzically. "I have your reputation."

Arthur broke into a small grin, "Don't believe everything you hear!"

Gaheris smiled, "Still, I wouldn't want to be your enemy."

"I don't seek to make them."

Gaheris paused and stopped walking, to fix Arthur with his gaze: "I envy your kingdom – peace within and without."

"Camelot is not without its enemies, but I see no reason why other kingdoms may not share its peace."

Gaheris turned to the window they were standing beside and looked out over his lands, houses here and there showing lamplight through their windows in the dark. He pondered the idea, and the thought of being freed from the critical scrutiny of some of the most powerful and oldest members of his council made it suddenly feel as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He turned to Arthur, a broad smile on his face, and held out his hand towards him: "I think I would like to accept your proposition!"

And as Arthur stood before Merlin later, waiting for his servant to help him remove his armour, Merlin paused. His heart soared - this was what Kilgharrah had foretold. This was Albion being established by the king whom destiny had chosen for the task. And at that moment Merlin felt that nothing could stand in their way. He chose to forget the prophecies that spoke of doom. He dared to believe the Morgana was an enemy who could be defeated. And a large grin suddenly spread across his face. "You've done it, Arthur! You've united the kingdoms!" And Merlin slept that night with dreams of Albion.

~~~ O ~~~

And the memories of those days strengthened Merlin's resolve to find healing for the king through whom Albion had been born.

"Ready?"

Arthur nodded wearily, and once again Merlin laid Arthur's arm around his shoulders and pulled him to his feet, ready for the next stage of their journey to Avalon.