My beloved Ygraine,
I am not long for this world. Death, which makes war upon all men, has come for me in the last, even as he came for your lady mother.
There is no fear in my heart now. Though I often went astray in life, and walked in selfishness and ignorance, yet when I meditate upon the infinite mercy of Our Creator, I cannot tremble before the mysteries of the grave.
Remember your lord father with fondness, not because he commands it, but because he humbly asks it of you, the most compassionate of his children. And I ask you to keep loving and forgiving your brothers, your kinsmen and your fellow subjects. For the Prince of Apostles has taught us that love covers a multitude of sins.
I offer you this book of prayers with a contrite heart. Keep learning and studying, and searching out Wisdom diligently, wherever she hides herself. Your advice and your kindness have been an undeserved consolation in my final seasons.
God willing, I will see you and your mother again, not with these mortal eyes, but with the gracious vision of the Hereafter.
In loving remembrance, and in the hope of our reunion after the final resurrection,
Papa.
The sound of the chamber door slamming announced the arrival of Merlin, who skittered in like a long-limbed foal.
"Morning, sire," he said cheerfully, balancing a tray and a number of bundles in his arms. His forehead creased as he began setting his burdens down. "You're up early."
"That makes one of us," said Arthur, closing the book. He observed Merlin's face carefully. "Long night? At the tavern, I suppose?"
"No," said Merlin, sounding hurt. He flung open the curtains, and blew out the candles Arthur had been reading by.
"I know that," said Arthur more gently. "I know how hard you and Gaius have been working. What was I thinking, sending Gawaine to you with a bottle? I might as well have tossed you in a vat of wine myself."
"What have you been reading?"
"Nothing." Arthur put a hand on the book reflexively, as if to cover it, like a boy caught with a manuscript of erotic miniatures. "Just… something that once belonged to my mother."
Merlin's face softened. Then he spread the tablecloth and began setting out breakfast.
"Well?" Arthur said.
"Sire?"
"Aren't you going to ask about it? You're always prying into my personal life."
Merlin stopped and turned to the king. In a serious tone, he said, "If I have trespassed the bounds of propriety, I ask your pardon, my lord." Then he resumed working.
Arthur wrinkled his brow. "But you're always trespassing the bounds of propriety. That's why I keep you around. Why are you being like this?"
Merlin chivvied the king away from the writing desk and sat him at the table. He whipped out a napkin with a flourish and bound it around the king's neck.
"How would you like me to be?" Merlin asked.
"I want you to be yourself. Just act normal."
"Are you saying you want me to pry into your personal life?"
Arthur huffed. "Just forget it. What's for breakfast?"
"Rations."
"Oh. My favourite."
As Arthur stabbed at his porridge unenthusiastically, Merlin brought out several of the king's outfits and brushed them down.
"There will be many costume changes today, sire. Your schedule is very full. I've had everything washed and pressed for you. We will begin with an open court."
"Oh, good," said Arthur. "I can't wait to hear the complaints of every single person in my kingdom at once."
"Many of those people fought to take this kingdom back, sire," said Merlin, a hint of reproach in his voice. "And many suffered under Morgana and Helios."
"Is that what you think they'll bring before me? I've been doing this for a long time, Merlin. Now that Camelot is no longer under threat, they'll be asking me to punish their neighbours for building a fence one inch too high, or overpricing a pig at the summer fair. The same people who fought side by side against a common enemy will drag each other through the courts over the cost of a fish." The king massaged his temples. "What happens after that?"
"You are to entertain the Florentine envoy again. Gaius has told me that the Florentines think we are uncivilised barbarians, and that you should drop references to the Grecian texts he's tried to drum into your thick skull - those were his words! - and point out the numerous medical advances we've made. Lord Rhys of Greywatch has petitioned you to marry his daughter for the third time. Sir Leon has asked you to inspect the new crossbows, and unveil them before the people. He was at pains to tell me that these crossbows generate a torque seven percent greater than last year's design, which I understand is quite impressive. The Archbishop has asked you to open the new chapel dedicated to Our Lady, Queen of Angels, and formally donate an altar cloth. There is to be a banquet for the ladies of the court-"
"God," said Arthur. "What is the point of all this useless ceremony? Why should I do any of this, Merlin?"
Merlin looked at him very seriously. "It is the theatre of royalty, sire," he replied.
"The what? Has Gaius been lecturing you on political theory again? There's only one man I know who uses phrases like that with impunity."
"Well, someone has to take an interest in the institution of the monarchy, sire. Ideally it would be the monarch, but since you prefer to beat men's brains out rather than use your own-"
"And what is your view of the monarchy, Merlin? Because you showed nothing but contempt for it on your first day in Camelot, and now, apparently, you are a fervent loyalist. As a student of politics, what do you say to Marsilius of Lombardy, who claims there is no legitimate government without the consent of the governed?"
"I say that's a sound principle, sire."
"Really? And how do you square that with your belief that pulling a sword out of a rock is the ultimate test of political office?"
"The gods work in mysterious ways, my lord. All I know is this. You are the king. More than that, you are Camelot herself. The people need to see you going about your business. So long as you rule, and are seen to rule, Camelot lives, even should her walls crumble, and her enemies outnumber the stars. Without you, the gates may be rebuilt, the harvest may come in, the knights may ride and the bards may sing, but there is no Camelot. Without you, we are sheep with no shepherd.
"Therefore, be the king you are. The pinnacle of knighthood, the flower of chivalry. That is your destiny. You must play the part the people need." Merlin turned back to the hose he was sorting through. "At least, that is my opinion, my lord."
"The destiny of an entire people is a heavy burden for one person to bear, Merlin."
"Destiny is always a heavy thing. For everyone. But it can be borne, sire."
There was silence for a bit, as the king finished his breakfast. Eventually, he broke it.
"And the Southron?"
"There has been no change, yet. Gaius is doing his best."
"You know that House Felix is calling for his blood?"
"Half the city is. Why should they be any different?"
"You're going to plead for his life, aren't you? You always counsel mercy, Merlin. But the facts are that my kingdom was lost… no one knows where Morgana is… Sir Leon's brother is dead..."
"The Southron was a soldier, sire. He was following the orders of his commander, as your own men do every time you take an enemy fortress."
"And does Sir Leon's brother mean nothing to you?"
"Let me ask you something, sire. Do you remember the Druid boy from the camp in the forest? Do you think he had a brother? Or a sister? He certainly had parents who loved him."
There was a much colder silence.
"You are treading on dangerous ground, Merlin." There were patches of colour in the king's cheeks.
"I have been since the day I met you, Arthur."
"And what are you saying? Because I committed an evil act, I have no right to hold others accountable for their crimes? Then how shall I be king, and dispense justice?"
"You know what your father was. What he did to so many people. And you still found it in your heart to love him, and grieve for him, because he was your lord father. Remember that this Southron is also somebody's son. That is all I ask."
"So now you are a preacher as well as a philosopher. Thank you, Merlin. That will be all."
Merlin looked like he wished to say something more, but he held his peace.
"Good morning, sire," he said, bowing his head. "I will be nearby. Ring for me when you wish me to attend you. I will have hot water sent up for your bath."
It was long past terce when Arthur signalled to his guards that the open court must draw to a close. It was nigh on three hours since they had begun. The king had sat in his throne, surrounded by his several officials, and listened to the complaints of his people, one after the other. Nobles and commoners with no business to conduct drifted in and out, watching the proceedings from the sides of the hall. The queue of claimants stretched for miles.
Merlin was pleased that the king had taken his advice. Arthur had been reminded that he was being watched by his own people, by the Florentine envoy, and by the agents of many other kingdoms. He was wearing what Merlin had chosen for him: his ornaments of state, and a black doublet over a crimson tunic with black lacework. The doublet and tunic were of fine wool, and of a quality one could only find in Camelot. We will never have better silk than the Florentines, Merlin had said, but they will never have sheep like ours. Let the commons see their king is not ashamed to wear what our own herdsmen produce, what our own tailors weave and our own dyers colour.
Merlin saw the dark eyes of the Florentine envoy linger on the fanciful cut of the king's clothes, and the bright glimmer of his rings and necklaces. He saw several ladies of the court scolding their daughters, who were swathed in cloth-of-silver and fine silk veils, and recommend that they instead imitate the king's modest yet handsome attire.
Not bad for a boy from Ealdor, thought Merlin, in a rare moment of self-satisfaction. When I was a lad, I had to make one pair of trousers last six winters, and my Mam had to patch it up and let it down so many times, it was more hole than thread by the end of it. And now if I put the king in black wool and lace, the highborn ladies of the court will make a new fashion of it by sundown.
All those years he had spent in Camelot were not wasted. For better or for worse, he had been observing and learning from everyone around him.
But he did not have long to rest on his laurels.
At that moment, Sir Percival strode into the hall with a bevy of knights. His tall, broad figure caused a sensation, and several young ladies swooned clean away, and had to be discreetly fanned by their mothers.
"Sire!" Sir Percival said, his voice booming. "Morgana has been seen!"
A darker mood swept over the crowd. There were gasps, cries of fear and alarm, and muttered oaths. Knights and noblemen leapt up, their hands going to their sword-hilts. Highborn ladies pressed lace handkerchiefs to their lips. The commons milled about, crossing themselves, reaching for knives, bringing out holy relics, or staring at the king in helplessness. The Florentine envoy and the other foreign dignitaries looked intrigued, and calculating.
"Silence!" Arthur said, and his people instantly were still. "How reliable are these reports?"
"They came from our own scouts, sire," Sir Percival said. "A troop in the northwest, on the way to Orkney, despatched a runner back to the Citadel. They were following the trail of a young woman, all in black, with no possessions. She's passed through many villages. The villagers say she wanders by day and night, coming and going with the mist. She feels no cold nor hunger. She fears neither bandits nor wild beasts. Some swear she is a ghost, or a Fey, or a devil. One man says he saw a terrible spirit, shaped like a white dragon, flying before her."
"A dragon?" Arthur said. "God's Wounds, will I never be rid of those evil beasts?" He looked at Gaius. "Gaius! She claims to be a High Priestess. Why is she wandering alone in the woods? Can't she… magick herself… to the Isle of the Blest?"
Gaius looked noncommittal. "I am not an expert on the Old Religion, sire. Before the Great Purge, girls would be selected for the rituals at very young ages. They would spend their whole lives in seclusion, training to be priestesses. Morgana spent one full year with Morgause, perhaps two. It is likely her training as a High Priestess is incomplete. Perhaps she had to ally herself with Helios because she cannot yet command the Blessed Isle's power, or unlock her own abilities. It would explain why she planted Agravaine in Camelot instead of confronting you directly. But this is all speculation… "
"I need answers, not speculation!" the king snapped, turning away. "Leon! Go with Percival. Follow this trail. Bring me Morgana."
Sir Leon rushed forward, bowed to the king, and raced to Percival's side. The two knights clasped hands, then swept out of the room at the head of a small army of warriors.
The king turned back to look at Gaius. "Two more sunsets," he said .
Merlin tried to catch Arthur's eye, but the king avoided his gaze, whirled, and went after his knights.