"I am NOT sheltered!" Arthur didn't wait for Merlin to shut the door behind them. He began pacing the short length of their room. Merlin stayed to one side, out of Arthur's way.
"Would I have a reputation if I was sheltered?" Arthur continued, spinning around and heading toward Merlin. "Would I be here if I was sheltered?"
Merlin shook his head back and forth, trying not to smile. Arthur again turned, pacing away.
"Maybe," Merlin began, but stopped with Arthur's glare. "I agree—you're very world-wise." He held his hands up in submission.
Arthur shot Merlin a partly-angry, mostly-annoyed look, and then charged the window.
"But maybe," Merlin tried again, "they just don't know you."
"Of course they don't know me!"
"No—I know—I mean . . . you thought Leodogran was bad because your father said—"
"So you think they're right?" Arthur's voice rose.
A knock sounded on the door. Merlin and Arthur stood a moment, staring at each other. The knock came again. Arthur glared at Merlin, gesturing toward the door. Right, Merlin said as he made his way over and opened it.
"Is the Captain here?" Anna stood there still dirty, her hair now loose down her back. Merlin nodded and swung the door wide for her to enter. Arthur took a few steps toward her. "I wanted to apologize," she said.
"For what?" Arthur glanced at Merlin, who flung himself down on his bed.
"We—seem to have insulted you tonight," she studied his face, taking a step toward him.
"Of course not," Arthur said, causing Merlin to look up at him. "It's just—I didn't realize you could be so judgmental towards a stranger."
"Judgmental? Were we really that harsh?" she glanced at Merlin, who was grabbing a large book. "Do you mean to Erik or to King Uther?"
"To Arthur," Merlin called from the bed where he reclined with his face hidden between the pages of the book.
"Oh." Anna looked Arthur over.
"Well, maybe you're right—maybe he does only know his father's version." Arthur placed his hand on the back of a nearby chair. "But there's more to a man than his father's stories."
"I suppose there is," Anna met Arthur's eyes. "And there is more to a king than his moralizing."
Arthur nodded, "yes there is."
"Like his actions."
Merlin peered over the top of the book—Anna seemed to be scrutinizing Arthur.
"Being a hero in one's own mind doesn't count for much when the result is the deaths of innocents. Excuse me." Anna turned, leaving Arthur to stare at the closed door behind her.
Merlin dropped the book onto his chest. "Do you think she's right?"
"About what someone meant to do and what he did do?"
"I mean about your father lying."
Arthur didn't answer. Or move.
"Is that why we're still here?"
"We're still here because—"
"Sir Brandt is still injured," Merlin finished with him. Arthur rolled his eyes.
"What is that?" Arthur indicated the book on Merlin's chest.
"Oh," Merlin tilted it up, "it's a book on herbs, plants, roots," Merlin flipped the pages, "leaves, flowers."
"Is it—magic?"
"No," Merlin turned his gaze, but could feel Arthur still looking at him. "It's just about plants—I have to memorize and be able to identify all of them."
"Oh." Arthur removed his belt and draped it carefully over the back of the chair. "I'm glad your lessons with Blaise are going well." That was all he said to Merlin for the rest of the night.
Caradoc ran the whetstone along the length of the blade, sharpening her sword. She lifted it up, regarding it by the light of the fire. She flicked the edge with her thumb then applied the whetstone again. Lined up upon the table was one other sword, two daggers and three knives. Her hair and a peculiar purple stone pendant fell forward as she finished sharpening the sword.
Anna burst through the door. "Arthur, Crown Prince of Camelot, son of and heir to King Uther Pendragon." She collapsed into an available chair.
"I am sorry." Caradoc wiped the sword with a cloth and placed it on the table, picking up the next one.
"How bad is this?" Anna spoke with her head buried in her hands.
"How bad do you want it to be?" Caradoc pressed the stone to the edge of the sword.
"Why is he here?"
"I don't think he knows."
"What am I going to do?"
"What were you going to do before?" Caradoc paused to consider Anna, who perked her head up, out of her hands.
"I hadn't really thought about that," she said.
The next morning after breakfast a makeshift arena began to rise just outside the castle. Anna had ordered a stage to be ready on the morrow. Julia watched as workers shuffled and scrambled about. She watched from the window of her chambers. She watched alone. Today, Anna had allowed Erik to accompany her through the towns with Blaise, the Captain, Anna's friend, and the other one in tow. At least, she hoped it was the rest who were tagging along and not Erik. She watched, fiddling with the rings on her fingers.
Sir Sagramore watched the stadium take shape by walking among its construction. He noted Leodogran observing from the parapet, but the King's feelings on a temporary tournament arena ordered by his daughter lay hidden beneath his features. Sagramore walked, and he saw Sir Cole hobble up to the outskirts and survey the construction with a look of mourning or regret upon his face. Cole noticed Sir Sagramore—their eyes locked and Cole nodded. Sagramore nodded back. Their eyes parted and each continued about his own business, as if the other were nothing but a stranger.
From another window high in the castle, three men also watched the activity.
"The whole city is talking about this," said Alaric, the oldest man on the council—or in Cameliard.
"Apparently Lord Erik felt that he was being ignored and asked that his worth for Anna's hand be tested," said Lucas the Old, another of Leodogran's council. He was blind and his face pointed nowhere, his ears keen to the conversation and the faint sounds of construction drifting by.
"Of course, that means the Princess is doing the testing," Alaric smiled.
"Does our Captain have any opinion of this?" a third councilman named Tiernan asked.
"I have heard no objection from him," Alaric shifted his gaze to Tiernan. "Were you hoping he had an opinion?"
"I was merely wondering." Tiernan said to the air outside the window.
Caradoc leaned close to Erik, as if to press the entire length of her body against his. She twirled her hair around her finger, smiling girlishly as he talked of hunting. Arthur watched with growing confusion and distaste, standing by the cart and horses. Anna had accompanied Blaise and Merlin inside the large farmhouse where dwelt an equally large family.
"Are you and Cara switching food again?" Blaise's voice inquired. Arthur turned to see that Blaise and Anna were staring at Caradoc and Erik, flabbergasted. Merlin stood behind, chatting to some of the younger children.
"Um—yes," Anna managed to say as Caradoc giggled.
"What's going on?" Merlin asked once they were on the road again. Caradoc had taken the horse Anna had been riding, replacing her in the lead—next to Erik. Erik glanced back to Anna now riding on the cart seat next to Blaise—Arthur and Merlin in back peeked around to gape at Caradoc's behavior.
"Caradoc's under the influence of a love potion," Anna sighed, worried.
"Meant for Anna," Arthur said.
"Will it wear off?" Anna asked Blaise.
"It's impossible to know which potion was used, and without knowing that . . ." Blaise gave a weak smile to Erik, who had once again looked back at them.
"He looks confused," Merlin said.
"He's insulted," Arthur said. "Or angry—he could be the one responsible."
"I don't think so—he's got a more developed sense of honor and propriety than you do," Anna still watched her friend. "He should know what's going on," Anna continued, signaling to Erik when next he turned. "Is there any way to break it?"
"What about true love's kiss?" Merlin asked and Blaise rolled his eyes, not answering. Merlin turned his head and caught Arthur staring at him. Arthur looked away, toward Erik and Caradoc now beside the cart.
"Cara—come join us—I feel outnumbered here." Anna held her hand out to Caradoc. "Anyway, I want the Captain up ahead through this part of the road. In case of an ambush."
Merlin glanced around at the wide, clear, open land surrounding them at the moment. Caradoc chewed her lip and looked longingly at Erik, who seemed relieved. Finally Caradoc blurted out:
"Oh, Anna—you already have the Captain. Why need you take Lord Erik from me—would you have every man for yourself then?"
The entire party stared shocked at Caradoc as she waited for Anna to respond. Anna gawked at her friend, unable to answer.
"No, of course not, dear one," Blaise said gently to Caradoc, as though speaking to a child. "Ride beside Erik the rest of the way to the next town."
Caradoc beamed, and Blaise waved a silencing hand at Erik, who was about to protest.
"What are we going to do?" Anna asked.
"The only suggestion that's been offered." Blaise clenched the reins.
"So—you and Cara . . ." Merlin smiled at Blaise, who was searching his entire collection for anything amiss, anything out of place. To Merlin, it looked as though he were pacing his chambers, hands clasped behind his back.
"No," Blaise snapped, "not me and Cara."
"How did you break the spell, then, if you're not her one true love?"
Blaise froze. "One true love?" Blaise tasted the words, rolling them around on his tongue. "Where the hell did you get a notion like one true love?"
"I guess I'm not as ignorant as you seem to think me."
"No—you're twice as ignorant—there's no such thing as one true love."
"Then how did you break the spell? If it could only be broken by a kiss from Cara's one true love?"
"Not one true love—true love—true, as in real, honest, genuine—not false, fake, fabricated and forced by magical means. Love spells like that can be broken by legitimate emotional attachment. Hell—Anna probably could've done it."
Merlin looked away, and Blaise continued, pulling items off his shelves, snapping open books and banging them shut again.
"And don't think for an instant that your so-called true-love's-kiss works as an all-purpose antidote to every love potion or spell—oh it works often enough, don't get me wrong, but it's still sporadic and there are still quite a few spells that need a specific reversal." Blaise threw the book in his hand at Merlin. "Now go copy the book I gave you," he said.
"Where?" Merlin asked.
Blaise looked at the book in Merlin's hands. Merlin opened it up; inside, it was filled with blank pages. Blaise, arms crossed and face flushed, watched Merlin slink away.
Back in his chambers, Merlin opened the book of herbs to the first page and opened the blank book next to it to the corresponding page. An inkwell and quill lay on the desk, but Merlin ignored them. Instead, he hovered one hand over the first page of the herb book, and his other over the blank page and incanted a charm.
The blank page filled with the duplicated words and images of herb lore. Merlin smiled and turned the page. Holding his hands just above again, he paused and looked down at the thickness of the book itself. He closed the books, placing a hand on each cover, and spoke a different spell.
As Arthur walked in.
"What are you doing?" Arthur stopped in the doorway, pointing to the books.
"Oh," Merlin looked at the books, "um, Blaise asked me to copy this book for him. How was dinner?"
"Good." Arthur came into the room and closed the door behind him. As Arthur turned his back, Merlin peeked inside the formerly-blank book to see it now filled with herb lore. He slammed it shut as Arthur turned around.
"Did Blaise find out anything about the spell that was used?" Arthur asked.
"No. All the dishes had already been cleaned, so we couldn't examine what Cara ate. Or drank. Did you have any luck?"
"No," Arthur approached the table. "No one knows anything, and the number of people in Cameliard capable of doing it are too numerous to narrow down."
"What about the Lady Julia?"
"The likeliest suspect," Arthur nodded as he opened up the books and began scanning the pages, "but there's no proof she actually did it." Arthur shut the books.
"How's Cara?"
"Annoyed, more than anything. She was protecting Anna, she knew the risks." Arthur walked over to the window and peered out into the night before closing the shutters. He glanced again at the books on the table in front of Merlin then began changing for bed.
Merlin flipped through the pages of the books, marking the perfection of the duplicate—it was an exact copy. He could've taken pride in it, but—
"Arthur, are we going to talk about this?" he said, still staring at the books.
"I'm not interested in herbs, Merlin."
"That's not what I meant." Merlin turned. Arthur splashed his face with water and grabbed a towel, contemplating it in his hands.
"How long have you been practicing magic?" he finally said to the towel.
"Well . . ." Merlin cleared his throat. "Let me think—the witch—priestess—whatever—Ninaeve—gave her mandate—"
"See, Merlin, this is why I don't want to talk about it—because I know you don't want to talk about it. Every time I ask you about yourself, you evade the question or give a vague response. Sometimes it's like you're keeping more secrets from me than my father. Now make sure you blow out all the candles when you're done 'copying' Blaise's book."
"How was I to know her servant would eat her food?" Cole slammed his cane down on the table and fell into the chair. Sagramore stood at the window watching orange and pink clouds pass by.
"Anna's friend is hardly her servant—though the fact that she gets everyone to dismiss her as such should tell you just how dangerous she is. The princess has a dragon guarding her—you should have been more subtle."
"Well it's too risky to try again now," Cole muttered. Sagramore smiled.
"Perhaps. I'm surprised Julia hasn't shown her hand—she's usually more involved than this."
"And last time she was almost caught—though none of us could prove it," Cole sneered at Sagramore's back and saw Sagramore's head bob against the approaching twilight.
"We shall do nothing more for the moment. Others may prove more successful."