Chapter 10

The meal on the second evening was a much more relaxed affair that the formal dinner on the first night. None of the knights were in their chain-mail or livery, and all were dressed more casually. Rather than conversation, the evening was one of entertainment, with the usual jesters, singers, jugglers and musicians.

Once again, Arthur found himself on the high table, and once again was grateful for the fact that Bayard was sitting between him and Ivan. In some ways, Bayard and Ivan were similar to the Pendragons. Ivan's mother, whilst she had not died in childbirth like Ygraine, had died from a fever whilst he was still young, and so Ivan had grown up as Bayard's only son and heir. But that was where the similarity ended. Uther, although proud of Arthur deep down, felt that the way to get the best out of his son was to be almost constantly critical of him, and to place almost impossibly high expectations upon him. Bayard, on the other hand, for all his qualities did have one weakness, and that was a tendency to overlook many of Ivan's faults and also to indulge him.

As the meal was being cleared away, and the programme of entertainments finished, Bayard turned to Arthur. "You and your knights fought well today, Arthur – you gave us a good show. But how are your injuries?"

"The wounds aren't serious – I'll live."

Ivan leaned forward so that he could address Arthur, again seeking to undermine him in the guise of being polite. "I am sorry, Arthur, that you were hurt in our fight. I really hadn't expected that I would actually wound you - you were somewhat slower in your movement than I thought you'd be."

But Bayard continued before Arthur had a chance to respond. "And you will have noticed that my son's style of fighting is somewhat different to yours, Arthur – he adopts a more…." – he paused as he searched for the right word – "… creative style."

"Indeed, my lord. He was a very worthy opponent, and maybe he would have beaten me if his swordplay had a little more…" - Arthur chose his final word deliberately and cast a glance across at Ivan as he said it – "….. control."

The reference to their exchange at lunchtime wasn't lost on Ivan.

Bayard rose to his feet. "Well, I am afraid that I will have to leave you discussing swordplay, as I must speak to some of our other visitors. Please excuse me."

Arthur nodded in respect to Bayard. "Your majesty."

Ivan did the same. "Father."

There was a moment's awkward pause between the princes, and then Arthur decided to attempt conversation with Ivan.

"Sir Gethin fought well today. You have an excellent knight there."

"Yes, and Sir Leon fought very ably too."

Arthur wondered why Ivan hadn't referred to Gwaine, whose ability with a sword had clearly been superior to Leon's in the bouts that day, but he wasn't left wondering for long. Ivan had Arthur as a captive audience, and intended to take every opportunity possible to rile him, knowing that there would be little Arthur could do about it in a very public place. So he continued, "…..although I must admit, Arthur, I was surprised to discover that Leon is the only one of your knights who is actually a nobleman. I'm sorry to hear that Camelot has such a paucity of noble families that you have to resort to commoners."

"I do not see it that way."

"Maybe not, but you spoke earlier of having the highest standards for your knights. Surely them not being nobles implies a lowering of standards?"

"Not at all. You yourself saw how well they all fought today. Three of my so-called common knights managed to knock out their opponents in the first round, and the fourth almost beat me. And I would wager that if we pitted Sir Gwaine against Sir Leon, then it would be the commoner again that would win."

"Well, Arthur, as we all know, untamed animals from the wild can often fight with brutal efficiency."

Ivan had certainly succeeded in angering Arthur by that comment. Just as the knights of Camelot were fiercely loyal to Arthur, he was also fiercely loyal to them, and when he replied there was iciness in his voice. "I believe you have insulted one of my knights by that remark."

"I was merely stating a fact of nature."

"Well, another fact, Ivan, is that true nobility is from the heart, not from an accident of birth."

"Accident of birth? Surely you must believe, Arthur, that the upbringing of a noble family bestows a better character on a man than the breeding of any peasants."

Arthur looked steadily down at the table, and answered coolly once more, "Not always….."

"Surely that is casting a slur on our noble families!"

"No offence was intended."

Ivan then decided to change the direction of his attack slightly. "I've seen the way your knights are with you. They do not respect you."

"I find it sad that you mistake true friendship for disrespect."

Ivan replied in a false, joking tone, "And I find it sad that you have to stoop so low to find friends….. I'm joking, of course!"

Arthur's reply was tight lipped, "Of course…."

"So you would trust these common-bred knights of yours?"

"With my life – they have proved themselves men of courage and honour."

"Well, I know who I would rather have by my side in battle."

"And so do I."

"You know you won't find much support for your views, Arthur, in any of the royal courts?"

"I'm not looking for it."

There was once again an uneasy silence between the two men, during which Ivan glanced over to the party from Camelot. "And I see you have brought a woman in your party. She's a pretty young thing."

Arthur's reply was once again tight lipped. "Indeed."

"She's a member of your court?"

"She serves at court, yes."

Ivan was genuinely surprised this time by Arthur's reply. "Serves at court? She is one of your servants?"

"We all serve in our different ways. Her role has no less dignity because we call it servant."

Ivan made no attempt to disguise the shock in his voice as he asked, "And you actually allow this serving wench to eat at the same table as your knights?"

The comment outraged Arthur, and he had to fight to control his growing anger at Ivan's contempt for others. He could not, however, let Ivan's comment pass unchallenged, although when he spoke, it was in a low, dangerous tone.

"You speak as if she is somehow of less worth than those who have a title."

Ivan was again genuinely taken aback by what Arthur had said. "Of course she is – servants are there to meet the needs and wants of their betters, not the other way round. And which of your knights has brought her along for his pleasure?"

Nothing that Ivan had said or done up to that point had incensed Arthur nearly as much as that question, and Arthur could barely control his anger as he threw back his reply at the other prince. "None of them I can assure you! And I can assure you that all my men do as I do and treat every woman with respect, not an as object for their gratification – whoever they are!"

And Arthur knew that he had had just about as much as he could take of Ivan that evening, and had to get away from him before he said or did anything which he might later regret. He rose to his feet rapidly, saying as he did, "And now if you will excuse me I have an urgent matter to attend to," and without waiting for a response from Ivan, he walked swiftly away from the table and headed straight for the door. Ivan was left sitting by himself, but had a twisted smile of satisfaction on his face, knowing that he had succeeded in both riling and insulting Arthur.

By this time, most of those in the room had risen from the tables and were standing around in groups, talking and laughing together, as was the case with the others from Camelot. All their attention was focused on Gwaine, who was in full swing, telling one of his many tavern tales, although had Gwen not had her back to the high table at that point, she would undoubtedly have noticed Arthur storming out of the room. Merlin, however, was just on his way to re-fill his pitcher of ale, and caught sight of Arthur as he left through the door, and he realised there was something wrong. He quickly put the pitcher down on the nearest table, and had to almost run to catch up with Arthur, who was half way down the corridor by the time Merlin drew alongside him.

"Arthur, what's wrong?"

Arthur kept looking ahead and didn't slacken his pace. Merlin could see by now that he was livid, and when he finally answered Merlin, he spoke rapidly, still only just managing to control his anger. "I need to hit something very hard, and it's probably best for all our sakes if it's not Ivan. He insults my knights, he speaks of servants as if they are dirt, and he sickens me by what he implies about Guinevere, and all the while I have to sit politely listening to his contempt for all those I hold dear!"

By this time they had emerged onto the balcony of the castle, and Arthur strode up to the parapet and put both his hands on it, bracing himself against it with his arms stretched out. He was breathing heavily, and his anger had barely subsided.

"Arthur, calm down! You have every right to be angry, but don't let him get to you. He's not worth it."

Arthur suddenly vented his anger by kicking the wall very hard, and grunted as he did so. There was a pause, and Merlin saw an opportunity to diffuse Arthur's anger.

"Did that hurt, Sire?"

Arthur grimaced, and after another pause, said in a rather pained voice, "Yes….."

They both laughed, and Arthur's mood was broken. Merlin decided to continue in the same vein.

"Look on the bright side, just be thankful you met him on the field today and not tomorrow, otherwise you might actually have killed him and that really wouldn't be good for diplomatic relations!"

Arthur laughed.

"Come on, my lord – deep breaths – get some more of that fresh air into your lungs!"

They both leant on the parapet, looking out in the night sky and enjoying the coolness of the air.

But they stayed there too long.