Author's notes: I'm sorry not to have personally answered my reviewers this week, as I have had a bit of a cold/flu virus. So, thank you very much for all the reviews. They were very complimentary but very varied, and I think having read them I'm a little worried about this next chapter.

First of all, I have to warn you that there are a couple of shocks in this next part, and I'm not certain you are all going to be pleased with the path I have chosen. I can only say that I have to write what comes into my head, and I realise that I can't please everyone.

One of the whams occurred to me not long after I started writing this story, but the other more or less suggested itself while I was writing this chapter. As I have mentioned before, I listen to what my characters tell me.

I hope amongst my readers some of you will be happy with this chapter.

Chapter Thirty-one

Sorcery and Sacrifice

Alvarr, in his guise as Daman, found his way to Lord Avebury by the simple expedient of asking one of Camelot's castle guards where he might be found and the meeting between the two men had gone fairly smoothly. As Alvarr had surmised, Lord Avebury was a puffed up nobleman who treated his man much like a common servant. As long as Alvarr remained subservient, he doubted Avebury would ever suspect Daman was not quite who he seemed, at least, in the short term.

The noble had been annoyed at hearing he'd lost the vote on magic but not overly perturbed, proving to Alvarr that his objections to sorcery had been but a distraction and that Avebury's main aim was to assassinate The Pendragon. Alvarr didn't particularly mind what were Avebury's motives because the end goal matched his own. However, by the time he'd spent even that short time being ordered around by Avebury, he'd decided to take his life too... after killing Arthur, of course.

As night fell and Alvarr followed the Lord of Avebury out onto the citadel's steps to witness the celebrations, he was amazed at the size of the crowds. He'd never dreamt that the legalising of magic would be so popular and, had he known, he would have raised a rebellion amongst the common people to bring magic back all the sooner.

What Alvarr failed to realise was the fact that people were backing a much loved and respected monarch and his equally popular servant, who was now promoted to personal advisor and warlock. Had he listened at all, he would have heard the names Arthur and Merlin shouted by thousands of voices.

"Stay close to me," Avebury hissed his order. "And when you spot your hired killer, point him out. I'll distract Arthur by introducing you to The King so the assassin can get close enough to carry out the deed."

The two conspirators had already worked out a plan, though Avebury had no idea just how close the killer was.

"Don't worry, my lord." The title almost stuck in Alvarr's throat, but he dipped his head and gritted his teeth. "I know the plan, as does the man I've hired."

"You've spoken with him?" Avebury asked, sounding surprised.

"No! It isn't necessary. I've already told him to get as close as possible to the royal party and wait till I signal him."

"The signal has been pre-arranged?" Avebury's brow wrinkled in disapproval.

"Sire, you don't have to worry. Everything is in hand. My man is much experienced in this kind of work. Arthur is as good as dead!"

When Arthur, Guinevere and Merlin finally stepped through the great doors above the steps of the citadel the roar of greeting almost overcame all three. If it were at all possible, the throng in the quadrangle was greater than before. People had climbed onto the cloister walls, perched on statues or any other available surface which would support their weight and afford them a better view.

The walkway outside the great hall, which was Uther's preferred stance when addressing his people, or witnessing an execution, was now filled with many of the visiting nobles and castle staff. Even a number of citizens had managed to clamber their way up to hang precariously from the balustrade.

For a few moments, Arthur felt overwhelmed and wished that he too had chosen to follow Uther's example, but he'd always felt more at home closer to his people than towering over them. Besides, he associated the balcony with the death of many sorcerers, so standing there would be totally inappropriate for these festivities.

He allowed the cheering to continue for some minutes, only ushering Merlin forward to accept the kudos which he so vastly deserved. Tonight, Arthur was prepared to remain in the background... after he'd formally announced magic's return to Albion and expressed, in public, his deep regret for all the crimes carried out in his father's name and his own misdeeds, though in a much lesser degree, against generations of these magic users.

After long moments, Arthur stepped up to Merlin's side and raised his arms, silencing the large audience. He glanced around the packed courtyard, unable to resist the urge to search for the figure of his would-be killer, but all he saw were happy grinning faces staring back at him, waiting patiently for him to speak.

He pushed a thread of apprehension aside, placing his trust in Merlin and Gilli, whom he'd noticed clinging to the pedestal on the statue at the foot of the stairway. Surely, with two warlocks to protect him, and one the most powerful ever, he was bound to be safe. It was strange, but Arthur realised he'd never been afraid of death before, yet his experience of dying and leaving all those he loved behind had taught him that life was precious and should be held onto with every fibre of one's being.

"Arthur?"

He heard Merlin's whispered, anxious question and shook himself from his reverie, becoming aware that his people were growing restive. Clearing his throat, he descended a couple of steps, putting himself alone before the throng.

"My friends and countrymen, I come to you tonight to announce the result of the ballot on magic, though judging by the laughing faces I see before me, I think you already know. However, as King of Camelot and Albion, it falls to me to make the formal declaration."

He stilled his breathing for a second and the silence was such he believed that the people held their collective breath.

"Magic is no longer outlawed in my realm," he announced regally, his voice carrying to every nook and corner of the square. "Those magic users who obey the laymen's laws of Camelot will no longer be brought to trial, imprisoned or executed. They are free to practise their craft. They are as free as every other member of this land."

Had the earlier cheering been loud, now it seemed the noise would raise the very roofs of the citadel.

"Wait! Please!" Arthur's voice rang out again. "There is something else I would like to say before the festivities continue. I ask that you give my words serious consideration." He stood, still as a statue, until silence once again reigned. "During the years of my father's rule many innocent sorcerers were killed. Even those who gave them succour, often without any knowledge to whom they opened their homes, were brought here to this square and executed. In my own reign, sorcery was still prohibited. There is nothing I can say or do to change those injustices, but I am sorry... from the bottom of my heart. I can promise that no one will suffer such unjustified oppression in the future... and if there are any who are in need because of the offences of King Uther or myself, I offer reparation. Camelot's coffers will be opened to help all those who suffer because they lost loved ones to the unfair laws on sorcery."

That brought everyone to a halt, noble and commoners both. None of Arthur's counsellors had known his intentions, though Merlin and Gwen had been aware he intended to apologise for past discretions. A long silence held the masses frozen, till one voice from the depths of the crowd called out.

"May the gods bless King Arthur and Queen Guinevere and Lord Emrys for their change of heart and their promises for the future!"

Those words released a floodgate of goodwill. People applauded and shouted, others danced and sang and some hugged each other, knowing they need no longer live in fear.

Arthur was particularly relieved his apology had been accepted so gladly. Indeed the royal party were thoroughly pleased at the reception, however there was a certain concern that amongst all the excitement a certain killer could easily hide his tracks.

Merlin cast his magic net outwards, encompassing the crowds, seeking the face he remembered well, the blunt countenance of Alvarr, while also sensing for the particular aura which surrounded most sorcerers. Yet the former was confusing, as it seemed a number of magicians had taken advantage of the new rules and were enjoying their emancipation.

He looked up to see that Gilli was also straining his senses into the masses. They could not fail Arthur tonight, yet desperation was beginning to seep into both their psyches as their search brought no results. Perhaps Arthur was right and Alvarr was attempting to kill Arthur from afar. Both Merlin and Gilli, simultaneously, looked towards the far edges of the courtyard and up to the roofs and turrets of the citadel, but could still find no sign of Alvarr.

Before The King and Queen and Merlin had joined the party, another small group had exited the castle, using one of the side doors. They had tried to mingle with the crowds, but in the good natured jostling, Morgana's hood had been pulled back and she was in danger of being recognised. Somehow, neither Kay nor Iseldir felt that the amnesty on sorcerers would include Morgana's crimes. Too many of these citizens of Albion had suffered at her hands.

With a deft move, Kay pulled Morgana's hood over her head and, taking her arm, tried to steer her towards the main stairway where many of the lords and ladies stood, making it a less boisterous and less congested viewpoint. Iseldir gently used his magic to ease their passage and, without anyone realising they'd been manoeuvred, the three reached their goal. They edged their way up the stairs until they were standing on the top platform very near to where Arthur and Guinevere had come to rest when exiting the castle.

"I shouldn't be here," Morgana whispered in Kay's ear, looking somewhat hunted.

"Morgana, Arthur granted permission and you did say you wanted a respite from your cell." Kay looked around him before leaning towards Morgana and replying, "I'll admit our position isn't the best, but we didn't have much choice. You were in danger of being recognised down there and those crowds are so excited and many of them have been drinking. It wouldn't take much to change their mood to anger."

"You're assuming the crimes I'm accused of are true?" Morgana hissed, but stayed within the shelter of Kay's arms.

"This isn't the place to discuss this, but I can't believe all these witnesses were lying."

From her other side, Iseldir spoke quietly so no one would overhear, his voice without censure. "I'm afraid there is no doubt you are guilty, Lady Morgana. I understand more than others that there were extenuating circumstances, but you rained mayhem on your brother's family, friends and peoples. Arthur has granted you clemency, something I know you would not have afforded him had he fallen into your clutches."

The Lady Morgana, wrapped in her dark purple cloak, seemed to collapse against her knight errant, who did not fail her, but held her close as King Arthur began his speech.

At first, awed by the vast expanse of starlight sky hanging above the soaring towers of the citadel and cowed by the heaving mass of bodies just below her, Morgana didn't take in what Arthur had announced. However, at the mention of Uther's name the gist of what The King was saying hit her like a sledge hammer.

Magic was lawful! Sorcerers would no longer be prosecuted! Never again would innocent people be led into this very courtyard to meet their horrific end.

Yet that had been her task. It was she who was to free magic and return it to the realm. With a blinding flash of memory and damnable honesty, Morgana comprehended she wouldn't have been so impartial in her judgements. She would have demanded revenge.

Arthur was right. She had been as obsessed and tormented as Uther. She'd lashed out blindly and, in her hatred, excused her every dreadful act, killing anyone who stood in her way whether they had magic or not. How could she not have seen her error?

A sharp ache flared within her heart as, with full comprehension of everything that had gone before, she finally accepted that Arthur was the true king... the right person to lead Albion into its Golden Age.

Morgana lifted her head from the haven of Kay's stout shoulder and gazed at her brother, seeing him standing alone, a little way forward of his friends and knights. For the first time, she saw him not as an enemy, nor yet the arrogant youth with whom she had grown up, but as a strong king who had learned the true worth of mercy.

The Once and Future King!

The phrase popped unbidden into her brain. She had no idea from whence it came, but she smiled warmly, enjoying the sight of Arthur's people applauding him, his knights and nobles congratulating him on his victory.

Suddenly her view was blocked by a large man brushing roughly past her. She knew her memory was freshly returned and might not be complete, yet she was sure she didn't know this rude stranger who hardly noticed her in his haste to reach The King.

"Your Highness," the richly dressed lord called, attracting Arthur's attention, though he didn't seem too pleased to be accosted by this fellow.

"Who is he?" she whispered in Kay's ear.

"Him? That's the Lord of Avebury," Kay answered glumly. "I'm surprised he has the nerve to address Arthur. He's argued against him since the beginning of the debate and he hasn't been very complimentary either."

Yet it seemed Kay might be wrong in his estimation since Avebury was continuing. "Sire King, I know I have led the anti-magic campaign, but even I can see that the majority of your subjects have chosen to follow your lead... and very willingly at that." His hand swept grandly over the cheerful crowd. "I would not like you to think I am a poor loser. I accept the majority rule and congratulate you whole-heartedly on your victory."

Arthur looked sceptical, yet he could not be seen to rebuff such a powerful lord publicly. He bent his crowned head in acknowledgement. "Thank you, Avebury. I did not think to find you so magnanimous. Forgive me for misjudging you."

With her senses now free of blinkers, Morgana recognised Arthur's unease. Her brother didn't trust Lord Avebury. She searched Avebury's countenance and found she was in complete accord with Arthur. There was something suspect about this Lord of Camelot, but he was speaking again and she decided to eavesdrop.

"King Arthur, now our differences are behind us, might I present to you my second-in-command. He has been outside the city, rallying more of my troops in case another band of Saxons assaulted your kingdom."

Again, Arthur bowed his head in assent, yet Morgana was aware his reflexes were on high alert. "That showed much forethought, Avebury. I thank you and I would be pleased to meet your man."

Avebury raised his hand and beckoned another man forward. As the knight, in full panoply, marched by her, dizziness overwhelmed Morgana and she gripped Kay's arm for support once more. She didn't understand why, but she knew danger threatened her brother.

Immediately, Morgana searched for Merlin, admitting at last that he was Arthur's best protection, but the warlock's attention appeared to be elsewhere. Her apprehension mounted and she found herself following the mysterious stranger.

"Morgana," Kay cried hastily, knowing Arthur had said nothing about meeting Morgana. "Come back!"

"Keep up, Kay," she ordered, every inch the haughty princess she had sometimes chosen to be during their childhood games.

Although Morgana couldn't explain the feeling which sent a shiver down her spine, she was certain Lord Avebury and his knight were up to no good and since Merlin seemed otherwise engaged, perhaps Arthur would need her help. If that thought shocked her for an infinitesimal moment, it quickly disappeared, submerged by a flood of memories. Reminiscences of children bickering, but always making up; of teenagers testing their mettle by defying a strict father but always backing each other; of fighting together against perceived injustices to preserve honour.

She had even saved his life... as he had saved hers! Somewhere along the way she had forgotten...

But the Lord and his knight were bowing before The King and she quickened her step. Around the stockier man's neck there hung a chain and a clear crystal which was caught in the folds of his surcoat and almost hidden by his cloak, was visible, it seemed, to her eyes only. Her gaze was caught and held by the image she saw within the crystal.

She knew that face, frozen within the prism. Someone she had known from long ago... someone she had met recently too. At least, she thought so. Wild thoughts buffeted her mind as she tried to make sense of them.

Yet one thing was clear. One thing she was certain of... this man intended to harm Arthur, her brother.

"Arthur!" she screamed her warning, as she saw Alvarr... yet not Alvarr, draw a long, lethal blade from inside his cloak and she was throwing herself forward.

Morgana didn't feel the knife as it sank into her chest, almost didn't feel Kay's arms as they cushioned her fall. She was aware of the chain gripped in her hand as she dragged it from the would-be assassin's neck, slicing a wicked gash in her palm. She stared upwards at the shocked face of Alvarr as his true identity was revealed and saw him fall when Arthur, with all his old speed, drew Excalibur and plunged it into the sorcerer's cold heart.

"Morgana!" Arthur's equally horrified cry reached her through the fog which threatened to surround her, cutting her off from the circle of her family and friends. "Gaius, we need help here. Quickly!" The King took charge immediately, though his voice was hoarse with shock and sorrow. "Take her to Gaius' chambers. Hurry!" he thundered his order.

The momentarily frozen tableau around Arthur sprung into life. Other knights helped Kay to lift the slender body and bear it speedily within while Gaius hovered close by, taking hold of Morgana's pale hand which swung inertly at her side.

"Gaius?" Arthur asked, his eyes beginning to well with tears. "She saved my life. She cannot die!"

"Sire, Morgana still lives, but I cannot say for how long until I have examined her. You must stay here and restore order..."

Yet Gaius' words were cut off by an angry shout. Seeing his plans crumble at his feet, Avebury drew his own dagger, throwing himself at The King.

He never reached his goal. Instead, he was flung back against the knight's statue. The last thing he heard in life was Merlin's roar as his head hit the solid stone plinth, snapping his neck. The crowd drew back, their mouths agape at the huddled heap of what remained of the Lord of Avebury.

Arthur's stunned glance met that of Merlin's, before they both scanned the tumultuous throng. Were there any other enemies within the citadel's courtyard? Yet as Gilli climbed down from his perch, a hush fell over the people. The terrible change in the night's proceedings seemed to have robbed the majority of speech, and definitely of their gay abandon. A pall of stupefied silence took the place of joyful laughter as little by little many of Camelot's citizens started to return to their homes.

"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur said as his friend mounted the steps to his side. "I take it Avebury is dead?" But it was only a rhetorical enquiry, as The King could see Avebury's lifeless eyes staring at the dark heavens above. "I never suspected Avebury would be foolhardy... or brave enough to attack me. Once more you saved my life."

"As did Morgana!" And Merlin too had tears in his eloquent eyes, while his hands trembled like leaves caught in a storm. This he had not foreseen!

"I know," Arthur gasped out as they clasped each other's forearms, sharing their strength. "I never dreamed she would..."

"Arthur?" The threadlike question came from Guinevere's trembling lips as she stood somewhat alone on the top edge of the steps. Arthur and Merlin at once turned towards her. "Arthur?" she repeated again, but in a whisper.

The Queen's knees buckled as Arthur reached for her, Merlin close behind him. Together they caught her as she slipped to the ground, horrified to see blood, barely discernible upon her dark ruby gown, but glistening in the glow of the flaming torches.

"Guinevere!" Both men cried in unison, but The Queen did not hear them.

I know I have left this on a bit of a cliff hanger, but not everything is quite as bad as it seems. Remember, I do like as happy endings as realistically possible.

Though I'm still a little apprehensive, I am looking forward to reading your reviews. With perhaps a couple of chapters left, I'm beginning to wonder if my review total can reach 200! That would definitely be incredible.