He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree.

He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich he hath sent empty away.

- Luke 1:52-53

The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the courtyard, as the last of Camelot's subjects lined up to receive bags of grain. Guards were standing in formation near the stores, and some went up and down the rows of people with their long halberds, maintaining order. As the final cartload of supplies was wheeled out, Gwen saw, to her surprise, that Merlin was accompanying the delivery.

"I want my food! I'm 'ungry, mistress!" The woman standing at the front of the queue was a grim-looking matron of three dozen years, in a clean but tattered walnut-brown tunic. Her face was weatherbeaten and raw from the elements, and her hair was bound and wrapped in linen, indicating her married status. Gwen examined the woman carefully.

"I have seen your face, goodwife," Gwen said. "You have been in line before."

"I 'ave three children!" the woman exclaimed. "You can't expect me to feed 'em with what you gave me!"

"Everyone's in the same boat," said Gwen patiently. "The king has arranged for more grain to be sent. Until it arrives, you must make do with what you have. You have received your share."

"I want to speak to the king!" the woman snapped. "You ain't even a noble. Who put you in charge, eh? Where's Sir Leon?"

"Sir Leon," said Guinevere, "is riding in pursuit of Lady Morgana. The king has asked me to oversee the handing out of grain-"

The woman made a noise of disgust. The man behind her yelled, "Move along, sweetheart! You only get one ration!"

The woman turned and shouted something obscene at her interlocutor before returning her attention to Gwen. "I ain't standin' for this. The old king would never 'ave treated his people like this! I've lived through more sieges than you've seen summers, girl. I demand to see King Arthur! Where are his knights? Who's advisin' 'im? Who put you people in charge?"

"Mistress," said Gwen, "you've said your piece. If you seek an audience with the king, wait for an open court, or leave your name with his officials. You've gotten your share, now others must do the same. Move along."

"I'm stayin' right 'ere."

"Move along, or I shall ask a guard to escort you."

The woman flew into a rage. "Hussy!" she said. "Puttin' on airs and graces, and settin' yourself above us common folk! We've all seen you, walkin' around the streets in fine silks like you was born to it! Shameless, flauntin' the wages of your sins! I suppose you've forgotten what it is to be 'ungry! I suppose it's fine wine and all the pheasant you can eat, seein' as you now keep the king's bed warm! I 'eard you was banished for playin' the harlot with all the king's knights! The old king would 'ave executed you, not put you in charge of the people! No better'n you should be! Strumpet!"

Merlin appeared at the goodwife's side, silent as a ghost.

"That's enough," he said quietly. "Even a dog knows not to bite the hand that feeds him."

The woman turned to him. "Master Merlin!" she said. "Good master! Wise servant of the king! You understand what I'm sayin', don't you? Tell this silly girl-"

Merlin cut her off. "I said that's enough! If you knew one tenth of what this woman has done for Camelot, you would be ashamed of yourself. You've gotten your fair share, and it's more than you deserve. Now leave, before that grain turns to ashes in your mouth. Your ingratitude will poison all you touch, and your children will taste bitter broth if it comes from your hand."

The woman opened her mouth to argue, but Merlin took a step towards her, anger flashing in his eyes. For an instant he seemed taller, and authority covered him like a cloak of office. The woman stumbled backwards, struck dumb, shrinking from his eye. She scurried away like a kicked puppy, fleeing into the crowd.

"Are you all right?" Merlin asked.

"Of course." Gwen turned her face away. "Sticks and stones."

Merlin knew what a gentle heart Guinevere had. "And yet, there is power in words."

Gwen looked at Merlin then, and smiled. "There is that speaketh like the piercings of a sword, but the tongue of the wise is health. What news do you bring for me, Merlin?"

"Walk with me. You've been at this long enough. Gawaine can look after the rest."

As they walked, they passed piles of timber, canvas and other materials, which lay stacked in neat bundles. The king had given his displaced subjects permission to set up makeshift shelters throughout the city. An army of crude tents crammed the streets and lanes of the higher town. Locals who were fortunate enough to own undamaged houses had been displeased to share their neighbourhoods with the tent cities springing up overnight. The refugees were fellow citizens of Camelot, but they had lost all their possessions in the fighting. Want and poverty forced them into begging, crime and harlotry. Their cramped living conditions and poor nutrition led to outbreaks of disease. There had already been clashes between the homeless and the locals, and the king had increased guard patrols to maintain the peace.

Meanwhile, guild representatives of the builders, carpenters, masons and other craftsmen, had complained to the king about the shoddy workmanship of the refugee towns. They had pointed out that a poorly attended fire could set the whole capital ablaze, and recommended everything be torn down and rebuilt by properly accredited craftsmen. King Arthur had ignored these requests, since finding coin to fund these construction projects came after a hundred other priorities.

"I've sent the king's orders," Merlin said. "Help will be on its way soon. We just have to hold out a little longer."

"Thank God," said Gwen. "I am glad, Merlin. This whole thing has been a nightmare. How many times will we have to risk our lives for this city?"

"I don't know. Maybe as long as Morgana lives."

"It's not just Morgana!" Guinevere surprised Merlin with the violence of her outburst. "It's Arthur! You told him Agravaine was a traitor. Gaius, the wisest man in Camelot, warned him. I risked my life to send you word about the siege tunnels. When have you or Gaius ever been wrong? When have you had anything but Arthur's best interests at heart? The number of times you've saved this kingdom, and the Pendragon line, and Arthur has never given you credit! He treats you like an imbecile, though he knows it's not true! You've been vindicated every time you've spoken up for this kingdom, every time you've risked your life to do so! Tell me something, Merlin. Would Camelot still stand without you?"

Merlin gave her a weak smile. "Of course it would."

"We both know it wouldn't. There is something perverse in Arthur. Something that causes him to deny his own reason. I don't understand how a man so noble and sharp can be so petty and dense. Maybe there is a taint, a curse in the Pendragon blood. Uther was mad in his way, Morgana is surely just as insane. Arthur… God knows what Arthur's future holds. I know the love you bear for Arthur is as great as mine, Merlin. I know you are devoted to serving him. That is why I must say this to you, because you would sacrifice your life to cover his faults. The city fell because of him. Because he refused to trust you, even though he knew in his heart you were right."

"Gwen. To speak this way is treason."

"That's why I'm saying it in front of you. I trust you with my life. As Arthur should have."

In the silence that followed they heard the hammering and sawing of construction going on around them, and the shouts of men calling to each other. Children ran around the edges of the courtyard, playing hide-and-seek behind statues and pillars.

Merlin had a visceral memory of another child he had seen once, in a green cloak and hood, crouching behind a cart, hiding from the Camelot guards. They had played another game of hide-and-seek that day, one far more deadly.

"Gwen… it's our job to make Arthur the best king he can be. The king we know he's destined to be."

"I know that, Merlin. It's just… Gaius tried to do that for Uther. He tried to turn his king to a better path. And you saw how that ended. Uther died a mad, broken old man. And Gaius… Gaius is a shell of whatever he used to be before the Purge. I don't want to see that happen to you and Arthur."

"Gwen… "

"Don't tell me to hold my tongue, Merlin. I'm not Gaius. I can't look away when I know something is wrong. And I know he'll probably outlive me for that reason, but I don't care."

"I care what happens to you."

"You've been a friend to me. Maybe my only friend in this city. But you didn't come here to speak of friendship."

"Perhaps I did. Do you remember when I first came to Camelot? I was an idiot. I almost got myself killed on the first day. I didn't know anything. I was a stranger to your laws and customs."

"And he called his name Gershom, for he said, I have been a stranger in a strange land."

"What?"

"Sorry. I was reading to some of the street children from the Scripture. They are homeless, and desperate, in a country that doesn't want them. I was reading to them of Moses in Aegypt. Have you ever thought, Merlin, that the great prophet was born of an enslaved people, and that he went into Pharaoh's household? It must have hurt him to live among the wealth of the palace, while his own people were oppressed and in bondage. Sometimes I think you and I, who came from nothing, and went into the royal household, are a bit like him. Not that either of us are great prophets. But our people, the common people, are suffering. And we've been given a great privilege, to speak for them, to make those in power listen."

A look of pain passed across Merlin's face.

Gwen said, "What did you want to tell me?"

"The Southron boy… everyone wants Arthur to make an example of him. This city is a pile of kindling, waiting to go up at a spark. Arthur is furious, and when he's angry he loses his compassion. Everyone is watching him. He has lost his grip on the capital too many times. They believe he's weaker than his father. The nobles will turn on him if they do not get their way."

"I heard he's going to torture and execute the Southron."

"He means to do it, Gwen. He announced at court that he would have had his uncle's corpse disembowelled, drawn, and quartered, and the parts paraded around the the kingdom. It is only because Agravaine was the blood of his mother that he shows mercy, and will have the body beheaded and thrown into a pauper's grave. I've tried speaking to him. I fear he won't listen to me alone. But..."

"If both of us press him…"

Merlin looked at her. "I know I'm putting you in danger by asking you to do this. He's already angry with you because of…"

"My harlotry. I will ask him not to let anger colour his judgement. I will plead the boy's case."

"Gwen-"

"I've already told you, Merlin. I don't care what happens to me."

The sun was slipping below the horizon, red light oozing from it like a spreading wine stain. The second day was gone.