Chapter 13 [Royal Council Chamber—A Half Turn of the Hourglass Later]
Mithian gazed out the window into the deep nightscape. Despite Urgency's brewing need behind her, her eyes remained riveted to the mist laden forest beyond Whitgate's walls. Her mind pushed through the murk. Worry spurred her heartbeat. She bit her lip. Where is he? Is he all right?
Around her, the others' emotions spiked. Optimism clashed with Doubt. Drowsiness numbed the minds therein. Annoyance flared over the early call from beds and comforts galore. With each new courtier, knight or guest entering the area, the intensity grew.
She rubbed her forehead. She didn't understand how her newfound sensitivity functioned. She struggled to cope with the clashing emotional forces in that chamber. The empathic static throbbed in her temples. It seemed all she could do just to maintain the Mask of State. She glanced over at Malodius who sat in the corner with Ywain and Galahad. How does he deal with this? I can't believe he can actually speak with thoughts. And that there's a dragon that knows Merlin too? Really?
To say that Incredulity was rocking her world at that moment would've been a grotesque understatement indeed…..
I shouldn't be so selfish! Blancheflor worries about Sir Percival. Britomart frets over Sir Gawain even if she won't admit it. Guinevere wants to be with Arthur. Father concerns himself over Morgana's threat as well he should do. They'll understand my concern over Merlin. She noted two other men in brown robes speaking with Master Wyngate. She saw Blancheflor reassuring Gwen at the council table. As always, Britomart maintained a polished façade while setting the table for the coming meeting. They wait for me to act as a Princess not as a lovesick girl. I must be strong.
Aye, Milady. Be strong but remember you are human. You are allowed to love.
She forced herself to remain in place. She restrained herself from turning toward Malodius. I wish I could. I wish you could speak aloud. I guess we both need to maintain appearances. She sighed.
Malodius barely beat an eyelash. He kept his eyes riveted across the chamber to maintain their secret. We must obscure the truth for a time, Princess. We serve the Greater Good in all things. Do not ignore Love's call. Fate will move us all in whatever direction she deems fit. That will happen whether it is convenient to our respective agendas or not.
She placed her hand on the glass. How she wished she had magic. She'd transform herself into a bird or another dragon. Then she could fly in pursuit of Camelot's refugees. She set her jaw. Even if I could, I do not have that luxury. She turned back toward the others. She walked a few steps toward the table. Her mind continued to struggle with the balance in all things.
Rodor met her at that point. He'd watched her struggle from across the room. In much the same way, he struggled between his roles with King and Father. On the one hand, he wanted to caution and comfort her on her heart's motivations. He'd tried to be both mother and father to Mithian especially after his beloved Taene's death a decade earlier. Perhaps too much, he'd included his precocious daughter in every aspect of his life. He'd brought her into a man's world. Maybe that's why many men had shied away from the marriage compact. However, as King, he needed Mithian to be at his side. He didn't need another diplomatic incident such as what had happened during Merlin's trial. He understood though that she was the ambassador. He cleared his throat allowing the mask to fall back over his face. "Are you all right, Mithian?"
"Aye, Sire." She exhaled Uncertainty's butterflies. "We have a threat to deal with. If Morgana has taken Camelot, she could turn on us next. We should be prepared." Despite her attempt to maintain appearances, she wrung her hands in front of herself.
"Indeed we should." He squeezed her left hand gently. "We must have faith and trust in our allies. Arthur of Camelot has survived other battles and ordeals. He can get through this one as well. We will offer whatever help we can. Now however it is time to gather information and make such plans."
"It is. Thank you, Sire." She nodded to him. Respect's glimmer sparkled in her eyes for him. Then she headed toward her seat just to the right of his at the council table.
Seeing the two resident royals moving toward their positions, Silence stunted the conversations. Purpose turned the participants' attention toward the affair at hand. Their minds snapped to attention. Concern shifted from individual needs to that of the Greater Good. They bowed to their hosts.
Rodor motioned with open hands. "Thank you. Please take your seats. We have an urgent matter before us. Britomart, please serve the others."
"Aye, Milord." Britomart buried her issues in Service's cause. She quietly circulated among the guests filling each of their goblets from her wine pitcher. With measured strength, she steadied her hands to best pour the liquid into its waiting vessels. She regulated her breaths to check Emotion's fire within herself.
As the latter served her, Mithian smiled at her friend. She nodded ever so briefly. Reassurance and Support glowed toward Britomart. "Thank you."
"As always, I live to serve, my Lady," Britomart replied without missing a beat. "You and our Liege both." She filled Rodor's goblet to the level she knew he'd like. "Is that satisfactory, Milord?"
"It is as always. Thank you," Rodor expressed. While not as close as his daughter to the maid, he didn't question her loyalty toward his court or its members. He knew better than to question that. Rather he offered a simple nod.
Gwen accepted a half goblet full. She looked around the table. She anticipated that the knights and counsellors would not take her seriously. She knew that Arthur's devotion to Equality's cause held little weight in that place as in most others. She took a burgundy draught allowing the taste to coat her mouth. She leaned back in her chair. Will they understand the threat to their safety? What will they do? Will they abandon Camelot to its fate?
Rodor tapped his forefinger on the polished wood. His eyes met Mithian's and then the others. "Camelot is under attack. Information reached us last night of a large army marching toward it. Morgana Pendragon, the Witch and claimant to its throne, and a man named Helios lead the Southrons toward that point. I have called you all together to discuss what we should do."
A slender man with rouge and white peppered hair and a wicked looking scar running down the left side of his face frowned. "Begging your Majesty's pardon, but what is the source? We should have heard something."
"Three sources have come to us, Lord Aethelwald," Rodor indicated. He furrowed his brow and curled his lip ever so slightly. "Master Wyngate, what has Sir Nicholas told you?"
The physician cleared his throat. "Sir Nicholas rests in my chambers, Good Lords. He is exhausted after riding hard to reach us with the account. He rambled a bit. Perhaps though you might ask Lady Blancheflor and Guinevere of Camelot for further detail?" He motioned toward the two visitors sitting across the table from himself.
I wish I could come forward with the news of Camelot's fall, Mithian lamented. She wanted to push the information out into the open. She knew it would light a fire to prompt Urgency's cause. Still she knew her father and the others would question said-account's veracity and demand to know her source. She couldn't expose Malodius or Kilgarrah…
…she wouldn't expose either knowing said-exposure would pull Merlin into the open as well…..
"Yes," Rodor agreed. "Perhaps our recently arrived guests can share their report with you all as well?"
Blancheflor cleared her throat. "I have not seen the army for myself, King Rodor. I do trust Guinevere with this information. She says she has seen the threat for herself. I have known her to be honest and true with her views. I also know her loyalty to Camelot's court and to King Arthur. As if anyone needs further mention of the Lady Morgana's hate toward Camelot, I have heard plenty from Sir Percival of her schemes against them. But as for Guinevere, I believe her to the point that I left my reeve in charge of harvest to accompany her here."
The courtiers averted their eyes. A few coughed into their clenched fists in disdain. Bad enough to be pulled from their beds' rest and the pleasures therein but to have to take the word of a peasant? They appreciated Master Wyngate's assessment. Perhaps Blancheflor would have presented the information in her own right. Maybe the knights would suggest a strategy to either relieve the city or reinforce Arthur's current position.
But Guinevere? Really?
Gwen hesitated for a few heartbeats. For a single heartbeat, she gauged those around her. She sipped on her goblet. Then she coughed.
"Yes well. Perhaps the Maid might know something? What can she tell us? " Aethelwald sneered. He stared at Gwen. "This one was unfaithful to Arthur of Camelot. He exiled her. Why should we believe her? Why should we take the word of a lowly whore?"
Mithian's eyes narrowed. Anger and Indignation boiled and frothed in her heart. Her lip curled. She slapped the table. "ENOUGH! Guinevere has ridden far to bring us this news! King Rodor and I have heard her account. She has convinced us of its merit. Do you think we'd bring this to you for nothing, Lord Aethelwald? If anyone would have reason to dismiss or disdain her, it would be me! I believe her. Arthur was wrong to dismiss her as he did! In spite of everything, I believe in her. King Rodor believes in her. Think what you will. You will listen to what she says. You will give her account its due consideration." She sucked in a deep breath to compose herself.
"Well spoke, Daughter." Rodor turned to Gwen. "We will speak on this later, Aethelwald. Meantime, Guinevere, please present your case. We are listening."
Mithian glanced toward Gwen. Affirmation smoothed the way for her former rival to speak. She offered the briefest of nods to blow away Resistance's last impediments.
Gwen cleared her throat. She stood and bowed to their hosts. "I appreciate your hospitality, King Rodor and Princess Mithian. I'll admit that I wasn't sure how'd you receive me. Given that I bear news of the threat to Camelot, I would hope that the court would hear my plea for intervention." She took in another breath. "During my exile, the village in which I'd taken refuge was overrun by a hostile force. Their leader, a man named Helios, saved me from being killed like many of the other villagers. While in his company, I overheard him talking to Morgana about their potential invasion of Camelot. I immediately fled to relay the news to King Arthur. Even if delivering it would mean my execution, I couldn't allow those I care for to be threatened by Morgana's malice. Helios and his Southron army will not stop until they've killed everything in sight and put the countryside to the torch. If Camelot falls, how much longer can anyone hold out? She will not stop until she dominates the Five Kingdoms." She bowed her head. "I would not trouble you with this if it were not serious."
"We know that, Guinevere. Thank you," Rodor assured her. He considered the councilors' expressions. "What of your minds on this?"
"A russet haired man next to Aethelwald chimed in, "Sire, I have heard much of the witch Morgana. I would be inclined to take Guinevere's word in that regard at least. It is not the first time she would lead a massive force against her brother's kingdom."
"She and her sister, Morgause, led an army against us a year ago. She held Uther a prisoner and usurped the throne. King Arthur and his knights finally retook the city with great effort and sacrifice. Now, before we can properly recover, she pushes her bile and spite upon us again," Gwen concurred grimly.
"Aye. She would not stop with Camelot. Knowing our alliance, she'd strike at us next," Rodor anticipated. "Sir Galahad, how long would it take for you to prepare an expeditionary force?"
Galahad glanced at Ywain who nodded back at him. Then he turned back to his liege. "The knights could leave before the sun is far above the horizon. After the bells have tolled, we'd meet within two turns of the hourglass, my Lord and Princess."
Rodor rubbed his chin. "Are there any objections?"
The council maintained its silence. They understood the need for intervention in the matter at hand.
Relief washed across Mithian's heart and mind. She exchanged hopeful glances with Blancheflor and Gwen knowing that a relief force would soon be underway to assist their beloveds. "Perhaps we might bolster the reserves, Sire?"
Rodor glanced at her. "Aye we could. Still Camelot has sufficient resources to match any threat. We all have our concerns. I do not deny that. Still we should meet any threat prudently. We will send our best knights to investigate. I would maintain some of our forces here as well." He cleared his throat. "As our ambassador, it would be for you to lead such a force. I trust you will do so with a balanced frame of mind?"
Mithian's cheeks flushed ever so slightly. She restrained herself from retorting as Aethelwald had earlier. "I am mindful of our loyal knights, Sire, and their welfare. As always, our duty is to them before ourselves."
Rodor replied, "We should all keep that in mind." He turned to Galahad. "Summon the knights. You are to leave as soon as possible for Camelot. Princess Mithian will lead you. I'm sure she will know something of where King Arthur might go if Camelot falls. Again we will investigate. I do not wish a battle if one can be avoided. Am I clear?"
"Perfectly, Sire," Mithian replied.
Rodor glanced at Mithian. Despite her attempt to maintain an agreeable outlook, he knew how Passion could often rule her responses. He anticipated that she wouldn't stop until she was sure that Merlin was safe. Still she'd earned the privilege of leading the expedition. "Very well. Go forth and make sure all is well. Look to peace and diplomacy first. I await word of your success upon your return."
"We shall indeed, Sire," Mithian agreed. She stood and nodded to her father. "With your leave, we shall prepare."
"It is given. We shall speak again before your departure," Rodor agreed. "This meeting is adjourned. You all have much to do." With that, he stood and left the chamber.
Mithian exhaled. She glanced toward Gwen and Blancheflor for a heartbeat's passage. "Sir Galahad, ring the bells if you would? I would leave presently."
"As you wish, my Lady," Galahad concurred. He led Ywain from the area.
As the King bade, Princess, restraint is in order, Malodius advised her. Then he followed the two knights from the chamber.
Restraint? Will I be able to have that if Morgana unleashes her forces against us? Mithian bit her lip. She sucked in a breath. "Britomart, collect our things. Then meet me in the armory if you would?"
"At once, Milady." Britomart hustled from the chamber. Her mind locked upon retrieving her sword and chain mail. Just keep yourself safe, Gawain. Don't be an idiot even if you can't help being anything else!
It seemed the mood was set…..