Lady of Magic

Chapter Twelve

On the day of the wedding, Arthur took his place by King Adris, since at that point the King of Avarok was the only individual Arthur could stand to be near. Elfkir was decked out in blue velvet and white silks imported from the silk road, embroidered with gleaming golden thread and sparkling with sapphire stones. Lydeth was in a green and pink gown, framed with white and studded with glittering diamonds, which obscured the terrible color pairing by blinding anyone who looked at her. There was such a thing, he mused, as being too dazzling.

The castle hung with numerous flower garlands and ribbons, and the wedding itself took place inside. It was depressingly long and boring, and judging from Adris' expression, the King of Avarok was not too thrilled either. Some of the young ladies stared with wide eyes at Lydeth's dress, while older mothers made faces and whispered to their husbands. Fortunately, the newlyweds were so preoccupied with themselves that they did not notice, while their parents silently critiqued their children-in-laws, as if a wedding ceremony were an adequate test of character.

The time came to offer congratulations, which Arthur did as was due, and they dispersed for the grand reception consisting of fine meats spiced with herbs imported from the East, a splendid collection of fine wines, rich cake and other pastries, coupled to music and dancing. Once again, Arthur took care to sit between King Adris and Prince Theodore, especially since he was trying to avoid Queen Talia and her daughter Rosalind, along with all the other guests he simply could not suffer any longer.

Unfortunately, at some point between Arthur's arrival and the day of the wedding, Adris seemed to have received some sort of advice from his advisor, because he suddenly developed an uncomfortably keen interest in Arthur's resident healer.

"Just how old is she?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

"You do not know your own healer's age?"

"She is hardly my healer," Arthur wondered what Adris was trying to dig for. "All I know is that she is younger than me."

"Younger than you? And unmarried? That is unusual."

"Well, she hardly needs to get married. She can support herself quite well on her own, her livelihood hardly depends on it, so I would assume she feels no hurry."

"I see. That makes sense. Though women do tend to have a desire to find someone, I think."

"You think they would if it weren't necessary?" Theodore asked as he chewed, which was not very genteel, but he could be forgiven in this case since he had to time his question.

"What do you mean?" Adris asked.

Arthur turned his attention to his meal while the two men discussed whether women would want to get married or have children if society did not pressure them to. Somehow the topic went from that to weapons.

"You might as well just hit with a stick," Adris declared, "After all, a few blows with the sword and it gets blunt. Most fights consist of pushing each other with our bucklers. You try to avoid using the sword most of the time. If it were me, I would charge into battle with a club or a mace."

"I agree with you," Said Theodore, "I do not understand why people even like swords, it has such a narrow range of use, and requires so much maintenance."

"Is there some kind of spell, I wonder, that would prevent a blade from going blunt?"

"Hm?" Arthur blinked as he drank from his goblet, when he realized this question was being directed towards him.

"Has Healer Emrys ever forged a sword that is always sharp?"

"…" What is he digging for? Arthur wondered if he would rather put up with Queen Talia. "Merlin's a healer." No need to reveal Excalibur. "She was never fond of swords, or anything…manly." Which made a lot of sense, considering she was never a man.

"Hohoho!" Theodore chuckled, but did not actually explain why he was laughing.

King Dralkor stood up, announcing a toast to his in-laws, which prompted everyone to stop their discussion to listen to him and drink with him.

A dance followed, which Arthur tried to sit out, but the others managed to drag him into it. It was actually quite enjoyable, and he was able to dance in a group rather than with a particular girl, which negated any potential awkwardness. In the end, he actually found himself interested in one young lady, a girl of about nineteen whom he had never spoken to before. Lady Renel, with wavy brown hair and green eyes and a soft-spoken temperament. She was not aggressive with seeking attention like others, nor was she shy, and her mannerisms reminded Arthur greatly of Gwen.

The reception lasted late into the night, and continued after the bride and groom retired. Theodore was quite drunk at this point, though fortunately he was still rather graceful when inebriated. Arthur went out to the balcony with Renel where they talked about nonsense he could not even remember, but he made a mental note to investigate her further, and she seemed to do the same.

"Ready to go home, Sire?" Percival asked, when they all retreated to their guest chambers for the night. Since they were up late, Arthur intended to set off for Camelot later in the morning, but the plan was to depart immediately, as he had been here long enough for paperwork to pile up. "Perhaps we might pay her ladyship a visit at some point."

"Insolent rascal," Arthur whacked Percival on the shoulder, "Were you spying on me?"

"I know not what you mean, Sire."

"Cheeky." Arthur was in good spirits, however. He had not suspected to find a suitable candidate for a wife, and surprises of this nature were always quite pleasant. "See that you rest up tonight. I want no delays tomorrow."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

In the morning, many of the kings, princes, and lords were absent, having departed after the reception rather than staying overnight. Arthur broke his fast with the remaining lords and ladies, with King Dralkor hosting with the newlyweds. King Adris was among the company, though anxious to leave, while Prince Theodore elected to sleep through the meal.

"How long is the journey home, Arthur-King?" Lady Renel asked.

"A few days," Arthur replied, "Not too long, but I still should get going, since there are plenty of affairs waiting for my attention by now."

"I am sure," Said Renel, "I should like to visit Camelot at some point, I think. I hear so many things about it, and now that the greatest sorceress of all time lives there—do you suppose I might get to meet her?"

"I see no reason why not." Provided, of course, that Arthur asked nicely, but Merlin was hardly unreasonable in this regard, and if Renel were to become his Queen—it was too early to say, but he really had a good feeling about her—then he needed Merlin to make sure she was not secretly a troll, or some fae, or some other manner of being trying to bewitch him in order to take over Camelot. Arthur would like to think that his judgment were not so abominable, but he was going to take advantage of being able to confirm his choices nonetheless. It would do Renel good, too, to know how to deal with the sorceress.

"What about you?" He asked Renel, "Are you going directly home after this?"

"Oh, I am actually heading to Gaul," Renel sighed.

"Gaul?" Arthur blinked. "Unusual place to go."

"Well, when I was a child, I came down with an ailment no one could explain. Gaul had a particular class of druids, and my father took me there in the hopes that they might help me. From what I could understand," Renel paused, "They could only contain the illness, not eliminate it. I must return to Gaul to that same circle of druids every ten years, in order to preserve my health."

"What happens if you don't?" Arthur asked, astonished.

"I get…well, sick." Renel glanced at the palms of her hands. "Herbs around here would slow the illness down, but not stop its progression. From what I could remember, I had a slow but steadily rising fever, and by the time I arrived in Gaul it had gone almost high enough to damage my sight and hearing. Fortunately, the spirits were with me, and we found the druids just in time."

Arthur tilted his head. "Do you suppose Merlin—Healer Emrys, might help you the same way those druids did?"

"I am sure she might have something, but I am nearing the date," Renel replied, "Otherwise, I would ask to come to Camelot with you, but I cannot afford to lose the time should she not have what I need, you see."

"Is it so exact?"

She lowered her head sheepishly. "Unfortunately it is."

"Well," Arthur leaned back, "When you return from Gaul, do be sure to stop by Camelot. I am certain Healer Emrys would be delighted to help you, if she can."

Renel smiled. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Back in Camelot, Arthur told Pollux, discretely, that he did in fact find someone who might be suitable.

"Gaul?" His advisor exclaimed, "Are you sure you want to pursue a lady with this type of affliction? Every ten years she would have to go to Gaul. That means if there is any animosity at all between Camelot and the Gallic nations, it would have to be resolved within that ten-year window. That is quite a leverage over us, if I may say so."

Arthur, naturally, had already thought about that, as unromantic as it was. He spent most of the journey home pondering on ways around it. One obvious way was if Merlin were to be capable of doing what the Gallic druids were, which was ideal. It would be nice if she could just cure Renel altogether—and there was certainly no reason she could not, other than perhaps her relative youth. Maybe she could even go spy on the Gallic druids—druids in Gaul were notoriously secretive about their practices, and it would not come as a surprise to Arthur that their methods were doable but just unknown. Someone like Merlin, who had frankly made a career out of sneaking around back when she had been his manservant, ought to penetrate their circles with no problem. He would rather not ask that particular favor of her, however—that felt like too insidious a request for someone who wanted an honest, proud career as a healer.

"Nothing has been settled, I have not proposed nor sent gifts, I have merely extended her an invitation to come to Camelot to visit Merlin once she is seen to by the druids in Gaul. I've spoken to her for all of maybe three hours in total, I can hardly base my decision on that, and at another's wedding banquet, no less."

"Hmph!" Pollux returned, looking very dissatisfied, but relenting. "I suppose we shall see how she suits Camelot's atmosphere, Your Majesty."

"Or how Camelot suits her." Arthur rolled his eyes. "Being only a young Lady, she might not want the attention a Queen of Camelot would generate." Too many people were interested in Camelot for all the wrong reasons. Honestly, if Arthur did not love his kingdom so, he would trade it for one that was less conspicuous.

Gwen was very happy to see him, announcing that her husband had returned from his mission.

"Seltor is in the dungeons," Said Gwen, "They are waiting for you to preside his trial."

"I'll do that tomorrow." No need to address the scumbag immediately, especially when Arthur still wanted to catch his breath from his travel. "Where is Lancelot anyway?"

"Topaz got sick on the way back, so Lancelot is with him and the animal doctor" Topaz was Lancelot's horse, one that Arthur had just given him too. The King's eyebrows dropped.

"Really? He broke another horse?" And not even in a good way. "Every year. You realize these mounts are supposed to last longer than that?"

"You know Lancelot. He only worked with mules and donkeys when he was growing up, which are hardier."

"Next time, I guess I should give him a war mule instead of a war horse," Arthur was annoyed. Gwen, not offended, only chuckled a little at this.

Lancelot did show up later, while Arthur was taking a bath in a tub.

"This time it was not my fault. We got caught in the rain, and somehow Topaz took a chill. None of the other horses got sick!"

"Right," Arthur drawled, "You have some bad-luck charm about you and horses, Lancelot. When horses come near you, they just…twist their legs or fall sick or wind up with stones in their shoes, which puzzles me greatly because don't mules also wear shoes?"

"…Uh, no."

"…Mules don't wear shoes?" On occasions like these, Arthur had a real sense that he was far removed from the common folk of society by nature of his breeding. "Huh."

"Honestly, I might prefer a war mule, set a trend," Lancelot said dryly. Obviously, Gwen found Arthur's threat amusing enough to share with him. "They are bigger, they live longer, they have more endurance, and I am absolutely certain they are smarter than horses."

"We don't want smart mounts! We want obedient mounts. Good luck riding a mule to a war zone, Lancelot. Half the reason horses are such good mounts for battle is because they are so stupid."

"And high-maintenance," Lancelot sniffed, "Speaking of high-maintenance, you should have seen what we pilfered from Seltor's mansion, in addition to the captives."

Arthur's stomach dropped. "Gold?"

"Mountains of it. All in his cellars. Gold, and jewels. We brought them back in the wagons that we also took from his property. I found some nice jewelry that I think Gwen would like very much, but I'm waiting for you to go through them. I'm not actually sure what you intend to do."

"It depends on how much jewelry," Arthur groaned, anger bubbling in his gut at the thought of the vermin as one of his own vassals, "I might prefer to use them to pay the hostages he had, as well as reserve them for rehabilitation efforts, or even rescue efforts. There is no telling how many slaves he had sold before he was caught, maybe they might be of use to buy them back."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Lancelot nodded, looking like he already expected as much. With his peasant origins, Arthur found, Lancelot had a deeper appreciation for luxurious items than other knights who came from noble families, which explained why his first thought was to give his wife gifts from the plunder, but Lancelot was a good man, and he would have thought of the same thing Arthur had thought of. This did bring to mind, however, "Where are the wagons kept? Are they being guarded?"

"We actually have them kept in one of the food caches to prevent robberies. Four soldiers are guarding them at all times, and checked for theft when they switch shifts. I have a list of how much plunder we actually have."

"And the captives, they are being seen to by…" This was odd to say, but "Merlin's clinic?"

"At least her druids. They are not actually at the clinic, some of them were in a bad way, and the druids wanted to keep them away from the general populace for a while. You know how people are."

Arthur rubbed his eyes with a wet hand. A spectacle. A horrifying one, but still a spectacle. "Any of the captives not from Camelot?"

"Without a doubt, but we have not gone ahead to identifying them yet."

"This is going to be a foreign relations nightmare," Arthur shook his head.

Scouts reported that Orlingoth was getting anxious about Beronat's walls—if that was what King Eldwin was trying to do, then he was very successful. To defend against any malicious plots, Orlingoth started building up their own military, which incited a lot of concern from the surrounding territories. Camelot was being called upon to intervene in some way. Arthur could not be more disinterested when he had Seltor's prisoners to worry about.

"You are in charge," He told Lancelot, "Of supervising the welfare of these captives. Find out their identities and where they came from. I want these logs to be kept quiet, however; I want to be the first to know the whole picture."

"But if I'm managing Seltor, who's going to manage Beronat?"

"I actually want Sir Elyan to go. I don't need a strong arm for this particular dispute, I need a good diplomat, and Elyan has been to both Beronat and Orlingoth in his travels."

Pollux felt this decision was sound. Gwen was unhappy with this.

"Must you send him away when he's just returned?" She sighed, "I see little of my brother as it is!"

"He will be back in no time," Arthur promised, "I do not intend for Camelot to be too immersed. This is none of Camelot's business, after all. It is only important if one of them launches an attack, which I am confident Elyan will do his utmost to prevent."

He gave Elyan instructions on how to represent Camelot.

"We support neither side," He told Elyan, "It is important you remember that. You are not allowed to appear biased toward either kingdom, and be clear that if the two erupt into war, Camelot will not extend our highways to them."

Sir Elyan departed for Beronat, and Arthur arranged for Seltor's trial to take place after Lancelot finished his catalogs, giving him time to address all the other paperwork that had accumulated while he was away and letting the villain rot in the cells for as long as possible. Give him a taste of his own medicine. Gwen was still a bit miffed about him sending her brother away, but she sat with him while he did his paperwork because her husband was with the druids, doing her own needlework and asking about Renel.

"I don't understand all this paranoia," She admitted to him, "There have been many rulers who suffered from ill health now and again, and I have a hard time imagining there is anything others can do that Merlin can't. I would say, let her character determine your decision, not her health."

"I need an heir," Arthur pointed out, "And I should not like to resort to what my father did in order to sire me."

"I'm sure all things will work out for the best."

Gwen was very good at giving meaningless assurances, but she was also good at making them reassuring. Arthur found himself feeling comforted despite all logic.

"She reminds me of you, you know," He told her, "At the very least, I think we can become good friends."

"You do not lack friends, Your Majesty," Gwen teased, "But that is good to hear. Merlin and I have always gotten along. No doubt the two of them will as well. Any queen you choose will have to get use to her, after all. It might even be more important than getting use to you."

And sometimes, Gwen is just unusually insightful. For a moment, Arthur allowed himself to feel a bit of regret, to pine after what might have been. If Gwen had just been a little more worldly, a little more willing to learn—she had so much innate wisdom already, it was such a shame. Yet he had to concede that complacent Gwen would not be happy as a Queen. She was a follower, not a leader, not one who would thrive in being in control, even benevolently. She was happy with Lancelot.

"It's funny how everyone needs to get use to Merlin, Merlin has to get use to others too, you know. It's not exactly a one-way relationship," Arthur observed.

"Ah yes," Said Gwen, "But Merlin does not have to tolerate others, not when she can throw fireballs at them. To be frank," And she said this with much more caution, "She doesn't even have to tolerate you, if you end up being a tyrant."

That was one thing that had puzzled Arthur a great deal over the years. "She certainly did not have to tolerate my father either. I wonder why she did."

"She's Merlin," Gwen shrugged, then grinned playfully, "Magic isn't the only thing that made her magical. We all knew that."

"Hm." Something about Gwen's words made the back of his mind tingle, but he could not fathom why. "Well, let's see if Renel finds her as magical as the rest of Camelot." And I really hope Renel is not a troll.