The men and women in the pavilion genuflected to the king, who bade them rise.
"Signore," said Master Serafino, "the honour is assuredly all mine."
"I trust you have not been waiting overlong?" the king asked.
"No, no, Your Most Serene Majesty!" Master Serafino accompanied his speech with wonderfully expressive body language and graceful hand gestures. He seemed to speak not just with his mouth, but with his entire person. "I have been most comfortable. Everyone has been hospitality itself. And the lady Ginevra is an extraordinary woman."
"You do me too much kindness, Messire," Guinevere said, dipping her head.
"Nonsense, bella. I do you too little." Master Serafino glanced at the king. "I have just been showing the lady some of the latest merchandise I have imported. Perhaps Your Majesty would care to take a look?" The merchant waved a hand at a table, where fine cloth in many hues had been laid out.
Arthur looked over the spread, keeping his face carefully neutral. He did not have the money to buy expensive southern fashions, which everyone here knew, yet it would be improper to admit how dire the kingdom's situation was.
"Paolo!" Master Serafino barked suddenly.
The cloth merchant's apprentice, a handsome youth, hurried forward. Paolo had raven-black hair and blue eyes, a striking combination reminiscent of the colouring of Merlin and Morgana. Unlike most people in Camelot, however, Paolo had skin burnished by the southern sun into a healthy golden glow, which complemented his looks nicely. Many ladies of the court had been strolling through the gardens and accidentally encountering Paolo, in order to flutter their eyelashes and giggle at him from behind their fans, but he had remained unaware of them so far.
Now, Paolo bowed and said, "Si, maestro?"
"What are you doing standing there?" Master Serafino demanded, cuffing the boy. "His Majesty would see some of our crafts! Bring out our best stock, idiota! Presto!"
"Si, maestro." Paolo made haste to carry out his orders, opening great chests, and pulling out more fabrics.
Arthur would be the first to admit that he did not have a keen interest in clothing. Since childhood, the main questions he had asked when presented with a new tunic had been: how well does this material absorb and distribute blunt force? How resistant is it to piercing? How much freedom of movement does it afford? Can I draw a bow in it, and swing a sword unimpeded? Will it keep me cool despite rigorous exertion?
He had found the endless costume changes and pageantry of court stifling. His father and tutors had tried to make the importance of royal image and presentation clear to him. Gaius, drilling ancient maxims into his head, had often intoned gravely, "Vestis virum facit. Clothes make the man." Arthur had found this advice unconvincing coming from Gaius, who always looked as though he were wearing something made out of a grain sack, or a pair of old curtains.
Still, even to Arthur's untrained eye, the goods produced by the clothier were extraordinary. There were lengths of material in every colour of the rainbow, some of which Arthur had not known could be captured in mere cloth. Paolo brought out a tunic in shimmering turquoise, so fine that it slipped through his fingers, appearing as if he had skimmed the top off the ocean's surface at midday. He unwrapped a cloak in such vibrant buttercup yellow that, when he draped it on his arm, it looked like a fall of sunlight, suspended in midair. There were silks with threads of gold and silver woven into them, and other materials embroidered with pearls orient, rhinestones, beryls, garnets, and chips of sapphire.
"How does His Most Gracious Majesty like our wares?" Master Serafino asked, watching Arthur carefully.
"I like them very well," Arthur said, wondering how to demur without offending the merchant, or making himself look a pauper.
Guinevere lifted the sleeve of an emerald gown and passed it through her fingers, stretching the fabric lightly. Then she said, "This is fine needlework, Master Serafino. Very fine indeed. But not from your own country, I think. This is Flemish stitchcraft."
Master Serafino regarded Gwen warmly. "Ma Donna, you have a refined eye indeed. This is our shipment from the Low Countries."
Gwen said, "Flemish work is very fine. But have you nothing from Florence, Master? We were so hoping to see some of your special designs. Flanders is just across the sea from us, and His Majesty may well deal with the Flemish directly, saving you the hassle of transport." What Gwen clearly meant was, We can get it cheaper directly from the source.
"Ma Donna," cried Master Serafino, with a hint of rebuke in his voice, "it is most difficult to get stock this season. There have been violent storms up and down the coast of Frankenland, and raiders from Erin, Daneland, and Tunis have taken many of our ships. We have to rely on our land caravans, which are most slow. And as for the Flemings, they know how to weave cloth, but getting an honest price from one is like getting blood from a stone. His Majesty knows I bring him only the best deals."
"Of course, Messire," Gwen said hurriedly, "I did not mean to suggest otherwise." She rubbed the sleeve between her thumb and forefinger. "This is no wool of Albion, I think."
"Alas, no!" said Master Serafino. "The Count of Flanders doubled the tax on wool imports from your island, and the weavers are purchasing their materials from elsewhere! I have tried to bypass the tariff and deal with your major abbeys directly, but they ask so much… "
"Really, Master Serafino?" Arthur said mildly. "The Prior of St Benedict's informs me that he can no longer sell to foreign merchants, because you would make him sign another four year contract, entitling you to all of his wool production at a very marginal price."
Master Serafino looked horrified. He cried, "Vergine Benedetta! Your Majesty, I would sooner tear out my tongue than impeach a man of God, but I have traded with Saracens, Turks, and the Byzantines, and that Prior of yours is the most tight-fisted, cold-blooded merchant I have ever met! If your monks and nuns are half as good at laying up treasure in Heaven as they are at haggling for profit on Earth, I should say that the eternal salvation of all your subjects is guaranteed, with credit to spare.
"Our craftsmen cannot design and work without guaranteed access to supplies of raw materials. Now, if we were to own an interest in your wool-producing lands… "
The king gave Guinevere a look of thanks, then waved at Master Serafino to begin walking with him. Gaius, Guinevere and Paolo trailed in the king's wake.
"Then let us come to the subject of our meeting today, good master," said the king. "There may be an opportunity for us to help each other."
"Yes, my lord," the merchant agreed. "This business with your uncle and your sister… most unfortunate. When a man cannot rely upon his own flesh and blood, whom can he turn to?"
"Alleged sister," Gaius put in.
The king said, "You know the situation we are in. War is expensive, especially when unlooked for. I need coin to rebuild the city."
Master Serafino made a low groan. "My lord, war is good for certain merchants. Makers of arms, for example. But the instability it brings frightens investors. If I am to put this proposal before my associates, I shall need something more than words to guarantee a return on my friendship.
"Camelot is the jewel in this island's crown. Once, we thought her knights invincible, especially when your father showed his strength against the Old Powers. But the followers of the Old Religion are an ancient and tenacious enemy. How many times has this city fallen? And with your father gone, and your… alleged sister at large, how can you guarantee it will not fall again? The game has changed, it seems."
"What other kingdom in this land," Arthur asked, "do you think could stand against Morgana or the Old Religion? Who would put your coin to better use in this war than us?"
"Probably no other prince could resist," said Master Serafino, "if Morgana or the followers of the Magna Mater sought to take their crown. But they do not want any other crown. They want your throne in particular, my lord."
"And why do you think that is?" said Arthur. "Because of a dubious blood claim that Morgana cannot even enforce? I know a dozen petty kingdoms smaller and less well-defended which she could pick off, if all she wanted was a crown. I know a dozen places the sorcerers and Druids could have taken refuge, had they been willing to leave this kingdom. Do you think there is more to this land than meets the eye?"
Master Serafino stroked his beard thoughtfully. "This is a wealthy and prosperous country, despite all the losses it has seen. Even so, the followers of the Old Religion place a value on it far greater than the sum of its parts. As you say, many sorcerers and magical creatures have fought to possess it. But… who can know the mysteries of their Goddess? Perhaps this land is a sacred place to them, nothing more. How many lives have we cast away defending the Holy Land, when it is nothing but desert and stone to the pagans? Even so, perhaps this place only has deep meaning to sorcerers.
"I know yours is an old kingdom, rich in secrets and artefacts, my lord. And yet, I am a mere merchant, with no skills in the mystic arts. What are these things to me? I must have something of tangible value to weigh in the scales against my silver. I cannot bank upon folklore and old wives' tales."
"I understand," said Arthur.
The king had led them down one of the walkways towards the eastern courtyard. Grecian columns flanked the path like an escort of soldiers, while overhead a woven canopy was strung with vines, and from it hung baskets of flowers. Birds flitted from bloom to bloom. There were great stones and coppery ornaments carved with triskelions, strange swirls, and figures from the Old Religion. Beside these were blocky granite crosses, and sculpted marble figures.
"What interesting artwork," said Master Serafino. "Some of it is ancient looking, and some of it reminds me of home."
Gaius cleared his throat. "Lady Ygraine was a great patroness of the arts. Her touch can still be seen in much of the castle's appointments. She arranged for fragments of old Imperial architecture to be brought to the castle, and restored if possible. She also invited artists from across the sea to work for her. Some of these sculptures were undoubtedly done by those trained in the south. Her masons added Frankish and Alemanni embellishments to the castle's exterior… for example, the larger windows, with pointed arches and stained glass fittings. These are weak points under siege, but the Lady Ygraine convinced our king that a Citadel must be open to the light, and that the winds from the four corners of the world must blow into our capital… "
The merchant looked impressed. "How extraordinary," he said.
They rounded the corner, and it now became apparent why the king wished to show the merchant the eastern courtyard. Masses of Camelot's fighting men were lined up here in neat formations. On foot were the common-born men-at-arms, while the knights were putting their horses through their paces.
"All right, lads," Gawaine was saying. "We put up a poor show the last time we faced battle. We were disorganised and on the back foot, then. We were going up against the Southrons. And Helios led a core unit of professional mercenaries, but the rest of his men were slaves, or boys he'd kidnapped or blackmailed into following him. We should have carved through them in half the time we did.
"You all know what Camelot is famous for. Every kingdom fears our knights. And that's why every kingdom has a defence against our cavalry. We had no horses in the assault, and they're not much good when it comes to storming a castle. But we won't just be defending Camelot in the days to come. We'll be going on the offensive against Morgana. That means skirmishing. That means, if Morgana sends more men against us, we'll be on the open field. And that means using our cavalry to our advantage."
Alaric, a young knight who was the second son of Lord Baldwin, said, "But what if the witch uses sorcery against us?"
Gawaine said, "It wasn't magic that knocked you out of your saddle and onto your arse at the gates, boy! It was an ordinary crossbow bolt! Learn to stay in formation and keep your shield up, instead of playing hero! You can worry about sorcery once you've learnt how to block an arrow!"
The men tittered, and Alaric shut his mouth, looking embarrassed.
Gawaine then began organising the men into the formation they had been practising. The knights were divided into three sections: a vanguard, main body, and rearguard. To protect the mounted warriors from incoming missiles, the footsoldiers were stationed around the knights in rings, forming shield walls.
"Ah," said Master Serafino, after a while. "'Tis a pleasure to behold. Your knights are very fine, indeed. Very fine, indeed. Watching them train, it is difficult to see how Morgana can stand against you, now that you are prepared for her. But tell me. Why do your knights generally wear mail? Why not plate?"
"We use plate on occasion," said Arthur. "For jousts and tourneys, of course. But on the field, mail is generally preferred. It is less tiring to the men and the horses, and less costly."
"But surely, if it is the weight that concerns you, plate has the advantage of making a large shield unnecessary?"
"That is true," said Arthur. "Though if a man needs to ride for his life, it is easier to cast away a shield than to take off his plate armour. Besides, it depends on the foe we ride against. Bandits, raiders, Druid warriors of the Old Religion, Saracens and Saxon mercenaries: these are all lighter armoured and faster moving than us. They use hit-and-run tactics, and rarely stand for a pitched battle. Even the armies of the other Five Kingdoms rely strongly on infantry and bowmen. None of them have the warhorses and knights that we do. Now, if we were to ride against the King of the Franks, or the Alemanni Emperor… kings capable of fielding enough destriers and knights to launch a mounted cavalry charge against us… perhaps we would go against them in the heaviest plate."
Guinevere said, "My father told me that in the times of the Old Religion, there was mail and plate far lighter and stronger than any we have today. He said there were elven smiths who made coats out of giants' bones and dragon scales. Children's stories, of course, but my father had a curious mind. When he was young, he saw a blade of Damascus steel brought from the Holy Land. The Saracens were skilled in alchemy, he said, and knew secret ways to forge and temper a blade so that it was layered and many times stronger than usual. He experimented, and tried to replicate that in his own swords. He said he could only make it work once… his finest work..."
Guinevere's eyes flickered in the direction of the king's belt, and for a moment Arthur thought she was looking at the sword which hung from his waist. But that could not be. This sword had nothing to do with Tom Smith. It had been fixed in stone since the time of Bruta, the first King of the united Albion.
Gwen went on, "Messire Serafino, my father was a great admirer of steel mail from Toledo and white plate from Milan. He said that your smiths guarded their secrets with their lives. But I wonder. If you could obtain some of their raw materials for us, or even some of their finished work… my brother has a keen eye. Perhaps the two of us could continue with our father's work."
Master Serafino looked at Guinevere with a mixture of admiration and alarm. He said, "Magnifico! A woman who understands how to weave cloth and steel both! But I am worried, bella, for I believe your people would now reverse-engineer all of my country's secrets! Such a wealth of knowledge you have, in the fine arts, and the arts of war. Perhaps I should be grateful that your island, with its ancient wisdom, is so far in the icy north, that it could not threaten the Free Republic of Florence. For I see, indeed, that King Uther's dream of reviving the ancient Pax Romana is not dead, and that but for your infighting and your wars against sorcerers, your island would rise as one of the world's great powers!"
"When we do rise," said Arthur, "would you not be grateful to have a friend in us?"
"Indeed I would," said Master Serafino thoughtfully. "Indeed I would."
Arthur said, "Master Serafino, I know you cannot bank on legend alone. That is why I would give you a token of Camelot to hold for security. It is an artefact sacred to the Old Religion, which belongs to our mythic past, and yet I think you will agree it has immense monetary value. And remember, it is one of the lesser treasures of our kingdom."
Arthur gestured, and a page came towards him holding a carved mahogany chest. It opened to reveal an enormous, glistening crystal, nestled on a bed of velvet.
The king continued, "This is the crystal of Neahtid. The blood of countless sorcerers was spilt to defend it. The people of the Old Religion say it is a crystallised tear shed by their Goddess. Some say it is Time itself given solid form. But even if you don't believe the stories, I trust this gem has some market value? I offer it to you as collateral."
Master Serafino did not waste any time. He shouted for his boy Paolo and his other servants to bring an iron box, which contained a hoard of gleaming coins. The merchant immediately told down two hundred golden bezants, counting them in front of the king, and promising much more to come, when he had conferred with his associates and drawn up a new contract.
Once the exchange had been completed, Arthur put the money in charge of Guinevere and a couple of his guards.
"Guinevere," he said, "go to Merlin and tell him to send letters of requisition for grain and supplies from all the neighbouring kingdoms, with the money to be despatched as soon as possible. Open all our stores and feed anyone who needs it until they run empty."
Guinevere bowed. "Yes, my lord," she said.
Arthur said, "You were a big help back there. Are you all right? You seem distracted."
Gwen avoided his eyes. "Yes, sire. It has been a difficult time for everyone. Seeing Morgana again was a shock, especially given how changed she is. This new loan will make everyone's work a little easier. I should carry out my orders right away. The sooner we can relieve the people's distress, the better."
"Yes. Of course."
Arthur watched her brightly clad figure go up the castle steps and disappear.