Chapter Three
The first of the trouble came the day after Arthur's big announcement, once some of the astonishment began to wear off.
There were the expected accusations. Prevailing was the firm belief that the king must have been enchanted. Merlin knew this was coming, as must have Arthur. That was part of the reason he was surprised at how poorly Arthur handled it.
Lord Amorell had requested a meeting of the small council, of which he and several of his cronies were members. Merlin suspected he did this because the council was made entirely of noble lords, and not one among them was a knight. Amorell himself was an unofficial leader among the more conservative - and, as Merlin called them, "Uther-minded" - members of the court. Where he pointed, the rest of the men generally followed.
Arthur went along with Amorell's request. He met the eight members of his small council that morning with a carefully neutral mien but for the prideful tilt to his jaw. Merlin stood at his place several paces behind the king. His palms were clammy and he couldn't quite get his pulse to calm down. He knew what this meeting was going to be about.
The king sat, signaling the others to do the same. Only then did he address them. "Lord Amorell, you requested a meeting of the small council?"
The lord in question shifted from one buttock to the other and puffed out his chest like some preening bird. "Your Majesty, I wished to discuss in more depth your declaration of yesterday. You called the Round Table to an end before we had a chance to approach you with our questions."
It always struck Merlin how young Arthur was compared to the rest of these men, all of whom had served under his father. The small council, as Merlin understood it, existed to address the issues of the landowners who swore their fealty and paid their taxes to Camelot, and to delegate nonmilitary duties to these lords in service of the citadel and its surrounding lands. Each had sons or wives or stewards back at their manors managing their affairs. They occasionally visited those estates but were pretty well entrenched here in Camelot and had stately duties such as 'Minister of Trade' and 'Royal Ambassador'.
Arthur had been king for nearly three years and had yet to replace any of them. One reason was that these men had a significant amount of control over the kingdom's purse. The king with his knights might have held all of the military might of the kingdom, but the likes of Amorell held a good deal of the wealth. Merlin knew Arthur's plan was to wait for these men to either die or to retire, whichever came first, and replace them with knights or young lords that he personally trusted. It would be a gradual shift in power and a delicate balancing act that would avoid any unnecessarily shed blood, for if any of them were to withdraw their support from the crown, Arthur would be forced to send his army onto their lands to restore their compliance.
Arthur looked from one man to the next around the rectangular table. With careful nonchalance, he reclined in his chair, propped his chin against one fist, and sweeped his other arm toward the men. "Ask away."
Amorell cleared his throat awkwardly. "This, erm, sorcerer you spoke of-"
"Yes, Emrys," supplied Arthur. "What of him?"
"For how long has he been in your employ?"
Merlin resisted making a face. While technically true that he was employed by Arthur, Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer to ever live, being reduced to a mere sorcerer-for-hire was a bit far-fetched.
Arthur must have felt this as well. "I'm afraid you misunderstood me, Lord Amorell. Emrys does not work for me. He is my ally." There was Arthur's first lie, reiterated.
"My apologies, Your Majesty," the lord simpered. "For how long has the sorcerer Emrys been your ally?"
Here came Arthur's second lie: "Since last we drove Morgana from Camelot, although he has been helping Camelot for far longer than that."
Amorell shared an uneasy glance with his comrades around the table. "That was nearly two years ago, sire."
"Yes?"
The lord swallowed, and his gullet trembled. "Your Majesty, the lords of the council, myself included, feel it is prudent to explore the possibility that you…"
Arthur leaned forward minutely, and even to Merlin standing behind him, the movement clearly tipped his posture from relaxed into hostile. "That I what?"
Lord Livius, perhaps tired of Amorell's beating around the bush, took over. "That you may have been ensorcelled by this Emrys."
The king let this idea hang in the air for a few moments. Then, quite calmly, he said, "I imagine there is nothing I can say to dissuade you from this idea. Any defense I make, you will claim it is the product of the enchantment."
The council, who must have been expecting an argument, seemed caught off guard by how reasonable the king was being. "Quite so," affirmed Amorell.
"Then we are at an impasse," said Arthur. "You believe I am enchanted, and I say it isn't so. What would you have done about it?"
The lords of the council shared another glance. "We discussed it last night," said Amorell. "We feel the best step moving forward is for Your Majesty to be examined by Gaius, and…"
"And?" prompted the king cooly.
"And to have Your Majesty's chambers searched for signs of poultices or talismans. The guards would be of our choosing, of course," added Amorell.
The atmosphere of the chambers was taut. The council had the self-awareness to at least look guilty. They had to know, just as every attending guard and servant would know, that what they were suggesting was out of line.
"No," said Arthur.
"No?" echoed Amorell.
Arthur shook his head and leaned back again in his chair, returning to his casual posture from before. "No," he repeated. "I refuse."
Merlin watched a transformation occur in Amorell then. All timidity flew from him; his jaw tightened and his nostrils flared. "But, my lord, you are clearly enchanted!"
"And I say that isn't the case."
"It is hard for one to know one is enchanted," offered Lord Berys. "You must remember when your father, the gods rest his soul, was enchanted by that troll. He was quite insensible."
"I remember," said Arthur.
"Then surely you must agree," insisted Amorell, "that it is better to err on the side of caution. Your Majesty," he added, like an afterthought.
"And what sort of message would that send to Emrys?" asked the king. "Now when Camelot needs his aid more than ever, to insult him by suggesting that I think he has enchanted me? No. I will not do it."
"Sire, you say you have been working with Emrys for two years, but before yesterday you showed no sign of knowing him," said Livius. "If that isn't a sign of enchantment, I don't know what is!"
"Not necessarily true," pointed out Berys. "This might explain that treaty His Majesty made with those Druids in Ascetir."
Merlin watched the muscles in Arthur's shoulders twitch. The king was angry; it would have seemed like a miracle that Arthur wasn't flipping the table over and throwing things at his council members, if Merlin didn't know just how skilled Arthur was at maintaining his courtly facade. That was the result of years of practice, the same as his swordsmanship.
"Whether or not Emrys had anything to do with my treaty with the Druids does not undermine the legitimacy of my decision," stated Arthur, painstakingly. "Nor does it now. We suspect Morgana to be raising an army and are reacting accordingly. As I said before, having Emrys on our side is in our favor, and it is as simple as that."
"He need not know of Gaius examining you," said Amorell, trying a different route.
"Then you ought to have chosen a more private setting for this conversation," snapped Arthur, gesturing around at the servants and guards in attendance. "Nothing said here is exactly a secret. But it would not have mattered. I am sorry if you disagree with my decisions as your king, but just because you don't like them doesn't make them the product of sorcery. I will not allow myself or Emrys to be debased in such a way, and I suggest, Lord Amorell, that you and the other lords of this council drop the issue."
His chair scraped loudly over the flagstones as Amorell abruptly stood. "Then I apologize, Your Majesty, but I see no sense in conversing with a man in the throes of an enchantment. Until you submit to be examined, I am dissolving the small council."
"You have no right," growled Arthur.
"Maybe I have no right, but I do harbor the right to refuse discourse with you until this matter is settled, as do my fellow lords. We will remain in Camelot, sire, and we will uphold our duties, but will abstain from your council until such time as you change your mind. Good day to you."
Nodding curtly, Amorell strode from the small council chambers. After a few muttered words and meek sidelong glances, the remainder of the lords stood and similarly departed.
Arthur ordered everyone else in the room to leave and sat frozen in his chair until the door had closed behind the last guard.
Merlin slowly walked up to Arthur's shoulder. He cleared his throat. "Well, that went rather poorly," he said.
The king shoved to his feet, made two strides towards the door, spun on his heels, and then kicked his chair over. "Hell!"
"Arthur," said Gwen, once she had sequestered her husband in a private place. 'A breath of fresh air' took them through the city gates to the summer meadows just south of the citadel. Arthur had protested such a diversion, saying they had far too much to do to prepare for Morgana, but the way Gwen gripped her husband's hand brokered no argument.
"Guinevere," said Arthur cautiously, massaging the feeling back into his hand.
Merlin was there, too, but at times like these, he was again like a piece of furniture. He swore Arthur forgot he existed sometimes, and the longer Gwen was married to him, the more often she fell into that habit as well.
So he stood a few feet away, letting Their Majesties ignore him in the interest of figuring out what Gwen was scolding Arthur for.
"Why would you refuse to have Gaius examine you for an enchantment?"
"I'm not enchanted," said Arthur.
"Then surely his examination would have proven that?" Gwen's frown deepened. "Why did you behave that way?"
Arthur had been right in saying that whatever was discussed in the small council chambers was hardly a secret. In Camelot, if you wanted to send a message, the quickest way was probably through the castle servants' gossip. It was not an hour later that Gwen was confronting her husband over a matter she had not even been present to witness.
Arthur made a quarter turn away from the queen and scowled, clenching his fists. "They had no right to demand such a thing."
"Didn't they?" asked Gwen. "You have to admit, your behavior the past two days has been more than suspect!"
The king thrust an accusatory finger toward the castle. "My father was married to a troll, and not once did those men step forward to demand that he be investigated for signs of enchantment. Had not Gaius and Leon stood up to him, they would have been content to sit timidly back and watch that putrescent creature bring ruin upon Camelot. They do not care whether or not I'm enchanted. No, this is a power play against me and nothing more."
"Are you truly going to alienate the men of your council over this? For a sorcerer?"
"This is for the good of Camelot," Arthur insisted. "If Morgana is raising an army, I want her to know that we have the means of defeating her."
"You are breaking your own laws, Arthur!"
"If I can make a provision for Druids to live here peaceably, surely I can make a provision for my own court sorcerer to use his magic to defend us."
Merlin choked. He had to bang on his chest a few times before he could start breathing again. Gwen was shortly at his side, patting him on the back and asking if he was okay.
"I'm fine," he finally managed to wheeze.
"Clearly," said Arthur, looking unimpressed.
But who could blame Merlin for being shocked? A promotion like that, out of the blue?
Actually, he was a bit insulted. Court sorcerer was a rather lofty position to give to a man who, as far as Arthur was concerned, only existed in theory, while Merlin had been breaking his back for the last eight years and had not even a single raise in salary to show for it.
"Can we talk about this Emrys?" asked Gwen, still rubbing gentle circles into Merlin's back. "How long have you been allied with him?" There was an unspoken question - And why didn't you tell me?
"Years," said Arthur, more sedately. He must have also picked up on the hurt in Gwen's voice. "Since Morgana's last attack on Camelot. I'm sorry to have kept it a secret from you, Guinevere. I promised him that I would keep his presence a secret from everyone." A third lie, or was this now his fourth? Fifth? Merlin was starting to lose count. He hoped Arthur was keeping track. "It made it easier for him to work when none suspected he existed."
Well. That much was true.
Gwen took Arthur's hand again, more gently this time, and led him to the base of a nearby tree. She sat down next to it, leaning against the trunk, and pulled Arthur down to join her. Merlin separated himself from them, going to the next tree over and leaning against the far side of it, to allow his friends the illusion of privacy.
He listened to the next part of their conversation.
"Why, Arthur?" asked Gwen. "Sorcery has done such harm in our lives."
"Yes," agreed Arthur. "But I'm of the mind that it does not always have to be harmful."
Merlin frowned. He knew he had talked with Arthur about that just last night, but he had not been under the impression that the king had significantly changed his mind about the evils of magic, and certainly not as the result of a five minute conversation with his manservant. Which meant that this was another lie.
The king and queen sat in silence for a long while. The sounds of the Lower Town were a distant hum. Birdsong was sweet in the air, and the wind tugged gently at the grasses of the meadow. Merlin's thoughts began to wander-
"Do you fear Morgana so much?" asked Gwen quietly.
"Yes," said Arthur, equally somber. "One of us will be the ruin of the other. And this cannot go on much longer. Guinevere, my love, I will do whatever it takes to preserve Camelot against her."
Merlin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His heart ached - an old ache. He knew the hand that he had played in Morgana's path, and he knew the weight that Arthur had carried since Morgana revealed her treachery, how impossibly heavier that weight grew with each encounter with his sister.
Arthur's bluff no longer seemed like pure idiocy. It was an act of desperation.
Even if it was still incredibly stupid.
"You are gambling, Arthur," said Gwen. "You realize that?"
"Let the lords do what they will," said Arthur. "I believe I am making the right decision, and I believe that will become clear to everyone soon."
Merlin was surprised at how quickly life returned to normal after that. Emrys - who was apparently Camelot's new court sorcerer - hovered like a specter behind everything Arthur did but was not brought up again so explicitly. Arthur spent his days working with his knights and guardsmen in strengthening Camelot against a potential siege, waiting for any news from his scouts, while the noblemen of the council made good on their promise and kept themselves scarce. For the time being, this was more a blessing than the inconvenience they had intended it.
Merlin, meanwhile, was back to trailing behind Arthur, doing chores and generally picking up after the king.
A week passed like this, in a state of limbo.
And then Gwaine returned from Ascetir, and Arthur's improvisation act truly began to spiral out of control.
A/N: This still counts as Saturday, right? Haha. I actually had a version of chapter three written, then doubted myself and rewrote it, didn't like the tone and so rewrote it again. Here we are - still not entirely happy with it, but it does its job. Why was this so hard?
I like the idea of Arthur having some pushback from the lords who served under Uther. In Sir Thomas Mallory's Le Morte d'Arthur, King Arthur went to war almost immediately after pulling the sword from the stone, with various kings who refused to acknowledge "a beardless boy that was come of low blood" as the legitimate successor of Uther. Granted, in the BBC version Arthur is clearly the rightful heir to the throne, unlike in Mallory, but I still like the idea of him having to prove himself to naysayers.
Thanks to: Anna3002, emrysmorgan, Manateesrock33, RebeccaRosewood, Foxprints, Vi-Violence, crystalrain96, mersan123, Fatvbirhd, Gingeraffealene, and zk95379 for your reviews of Chapter 2!
Next time: What news have you, Sir Gwaine?