Chapter 13

Arthur's companions were all standing outside the same imposing double doors behind which Bayard had made his fateful decision to invite the knights of Camelot to the tournament. They were waiting for Arthur who, as he correctly predicted, was to be taken before Bayard in the council chambers first thing that morning, and waiting to see what would happen. As Merlin looked around him, there was something about the looks on the faces of those who scurried along the corridor and who were let into the council chambers that left him feeling uneasy. He confided in Lancelot in a low voice, "I don't know, something doesn't feel right….. I'm going to see if I can find a way of seeing what's happening inside." And with that, he slipped off quietly before the others had realised.

When they had all been taken on a short tour of the castle shortly after their arrival, Merlin had noticed that there was a balcony that ran around the council chambers like a mezzanine, and he knew that there must be some way of getting up there. He eventually found what he was looking for: a small arched entrance in one of the stone walls around the council chambers, with steps leading upwards. The locked door at the top of the steps was no barrier to Merlin, and there was no one around to hear the spell that moved the bars of the lock. He found that there were hangings over the doorway on the other side, and that he was able to position himself behind them so that he could look through a gap and have a reasonably good view of what was happening below. When he looked down to his left he could see Bayard sitting behind a long table, with four others seated on either side of him along the long edge of the table. Others were standing behind the table, and at the far end of it stood Ivan with two of his knights. Merlin immediately recognised the other two, not because they'd been in the tournament, but because they were the ones he'd seen talking with Ivan in the corridor the previous night. Merlin couldn't see who was directly beneath him, but could see that the wall opposite was crowded with what he assumed were other officials from Bayard's Court. And one other thing he could see was that something was about to happen that was very different from anything that Arthur had envisaged when they'd spoken the evening before.

And just as Merlin was settling in to his vantage point, Arthur was being led to the council chambers, flanked by four guards. He was looking fairly relaxed, even though he hadn't slept too well in the stone cell, and was wondering how easy or otherwise it would be for Merlin to organise a bath for him before the tournament re-started. Although it was impossible for him to speak to his friends as he was led past them, smiles were exchanged and they were glad to see him looking at ease. The guards on either side of the doors into the vaulted hall pushed them open, and much as they all longed to follow Arthur, they knew they would not be admitted, and so Arthur was taken in alone and the heavy doors were closed behind him.

The first thing that struck Arthur was the large number of people there. He'd imagined it would be Ivan and himself before Bayard with maybe a few others, but as he cast his eyes around him, it seemed as if the whole court was there, numbering fifty or sixty people. But the second thing that struck him was the strange mood he sensed. Every eye was on him and a hush had fallen on the room when he'd been brought in, and if people were still talking, it was only in low voices or whispers. And the expressions that he saw on the faces staring at him brought the same sense of unease to him as they had done to Merlin.

The guards walked him forward towards the long table, and stopped when Arthur was two or three paces away from the table, standing opposite Bayard. And Arthur's uneasiness was only increased when he caught sight of what seemed like a twisted smile on Ivan's face. Arthur bowed his head to the king in respect: "Your majesty."

Bayard studied the prince for a moment, before speaking. "Arthur. As is our custom here in these circumstances, I must ask you before we begin: do you give your solemn word that you will answer every question put to you here today and do so speaking only the truth?"

Arthur was mystified by this solemn formality, and when he answered it was with a slightly surprised tone in his voice, "I do, my lord."

"And you do understand, I hope, the seriousness of the charge being brought against you?"

Arthur looked at Bayard, clearly perplexed. "I'm sorry?"

"Few crimes are graver than an attempt on the life of the heir to the throne."

Arthur was momentarily lost for words, and then incredulous. "I'm sorry, are you saying that I tried to kill Ivan?"

"That is precisely the charge that has been brought against you."

Arthur's incredulity immediately changed to indignation verging on anger: "That is ridiculous! Two punches hardly amount to an attempt on his life!"

"Two punches? I'm afraid, Arthur, that your statement is clearly at odds with the report I have been given and the evidence I have before me."

When Arthur spoke again, there was still indignation in his voice. "Please tell me what I am supposed to have done!"

"I have the word of two guards, two knights of Mercia and of course the word of my own son, that, when he was unarmed, you attacked him with a sword, and it was only the timely arrival of these others that prevented you from achieving your aim of taking his life."

The anger in Arthur's voice was matched by the expression on his face. "None of that is true!"

"Are you calling them all liars?"

Arthur turned his head to look at Ivan, who had a slightly offended look on his face for all who might be looking at him at that moment. Arthur held his gaze and glared at him, and with a great effort, checked himself and held his anger before replying, "I'm merely saying that they are mistaken."

Arthur turned back to look at Bayard, "I have two people who will equally back me up and confirm my words."

"And who are these people, Arthur – two of your knights?"

Arthur hesitated. "No, two of my servants." But even as he said the words, he knew they were futile.

"Arthur, surely you know as well as I do that we cannot accept in court the word of servants against the word of nobles."

Partly out of the frustration of having his two friends' testimony regarded as unreliable, he shook his head and exclaimed, "This is preposterous!"

Bayard paused as he looked down at the sheet of parchment that was lying in front of him: "Well then answer me this Arthur - did you not say the words 'I'm going to kill you' to my son?"

Arthur's indignation and anger flared up again, "Of course not. I didn't say anything of….."

But he came to an abrupt stop as he heard his own words from the previous evening running through his head again. If you touch her again, I'm going to kill you! He closed his eyes and his lips tightened as he realised that he has been caught by his own words. Arthur composed himself and started again, speaking in a measured tone. "I did say those words, my lord, but only as part of a warning to your son about his behaviour towards the servant, Guinevere."

"So you do admit that you threatened to kill Ivan?"

Arthur remained silent, and suddenly something dawned on him that his indignation and anger had blinded him to – something that Merlin, in his hiding place, had been aware of from virtually the start. Arthur was suddenly filled with the sickening realisation that he was on trial for his life. But he was brought back to the moment by Bayard speaking to him again.

"You must answer the question, Arthur – yes or no. Did you threaten to kill Ivan?"

Arthur looked at the floor. "Yes."

Merlin shook his head behind the hanging. He knew that already it wasn't going well for Arthur, and that the stakes couldn't be higher. And as he looked at the two princes, he could see a striking difference between them. Arthur was standing with his head bowed, and Merlin who knew him so well could tell just from the way he was standing that he was already struggling on his own. Ivan, on the other hand, was standing with his head held high, with an air of arrogance or confidence that Merlin could plainly see even from some distance. And although neither Merlin nor Arthur knew it, that confidence had come from careful planning and scheming that had gone on well into the night. For Ivan had taken elements of truth that Arthur could not or would not deny and woven them together with his fabrications to form what he hoped would be a believable story about Arthur's motives. What Ivan did not know, however, was just how close his story was to the truth, whilst also being a hideous distortion of it, as all of them were just about to find out.

When Arthur looked up at Bayard again, the king once again fixed his gaze on him.

"Arthur - you say that this was all because Ivan was kissing a serving girl – hardly behaviour warranting a threat on a man's life. Surely even you don't believe that it is actually wrong for a royal to kiss a serving girl?"

The question threw Arthur momentarily. He was suddenly very aware of his own relationship with Guinevere. There was a slight hesitation before he replied, "No…. as long as it is not forced upon the servant" and before he continued he fixed Ivan with a piercing gaze, "….. as it clearly was in this case."

"And yet, by your own admission, you were threatening to kill Ivan because of this behaviour. Isn't that extreme given that all Ivan was doing was kissing a serving girl, even if – as you are implying – the advance was unwelcome? Could it not be the case, as Ivan believed it to be when he gave me his testimony, that your extreme reaction was because of jealousy?"

"Jealousy?" The idea seemed so preposterous to Arthur that he actually laughed as he said it. But when Bayard continued, Arthur's laughter quickly ceased.

"What if the real reason that your serving girl Guinevere is here is because you brought her here for yourself?"

Arthur was taken utterly unawares by the question and suddenly felt horribly exposed, but before he could say a word, Bayard restated the question: "Is she actually here because of you, Arthur?" And everyone in the room saw him falter at the question. Whilst Bayard had found his son's theory plausible when it had been put to him, Ivan had, of course, known that he had fabricated it. And so it was Ivan, out of the two of them, who was now standing wide-eyed, staring at Arthur, scarcely believing his luck that there was truth in what he had invented. And when Arthur didn't immediately answer but looked down at the floor instead, Bayard pressed him. "Arthur – you are under oath and have given your word that you will answer every question put to you and answer with honesty. So I will ask you again, did you bring along your serving girl because you are in some sort of relationship with her?"

"Yes."

And as he said the word, the court room which had been absolutely silent up until that point, suddenly stirred with the sounds of surprise and whispered comments and movement. And Merlin drew in a sharp breath. He understood immediately the horrible situation that Arthur was in, because Arthur had been right. The truth of it was that every person in the room had only one understanding of a relationship between a prince and a serving girl – a view which was not entirely unlike that of Ivan – that such a liaison had nothing to do with love but everything to do with the gratification of the royal.

And as Arthur flushed hot and continued staring at the ground, feeling the eyes of the whole room boring into him, Bayard pressed the point even further. "Could it therefore be the case, Arthur, that before Ivan kissed this serving girl, you had already been enjoying the pleasure of kissing her yourself?"

Arthur looked up at Bayard, and the king could see the strained look on the prince's face as he replied, "It's not like that."

"Arthur. It's a simple question – surely you know whether you kissed the girl or not! Have you kissed this girl before – yes or no?"

Arthur avoided every eye that was staring at him. "Yes."

"Whilst you've been here at the tournament?"

Arthur looked up to protest and Merlin heard the note of desperation in his voice, "You cannot question me about my personal life!"

"I can and I will, Arthur, if it has a bearing on your motive in what happened with Ivan. I want to know if jealousy could be your motivation. You are under oath. So I will ask you again, did you kiss this girl yourself yesterday before you found Ivan kissing her – yes or no?"

Arthur's gaze returned to the ground. "Yes."

Bayard hadn't intended to probe further but there was suddenly a strange fascination to see how much Arthur – the one who was accusing his own son of inappropriate behaviour - would admit to under oath. "And where were you when you kissed her?"

Arthur's tone was dull and flat as he answered, "In my room," and as if to give some justification for her being there he added, "she had come to tend to my wounds after the fight."

"And yet you have a manservant here with you. Surely it would be more normal for him to deal with your wounds. So she was tending to you because you preferred her to be bathing your wounds?"

Arthur could not even bring himself to say yes, but everyone knew that his silence was as good as an admission. And Arthur had no idea of how to extricate himself from the nightmare of having his relationship with Guinevere not only exposed for all to see but also horribly distorted in the minds of everyone there who would only disbelieve and dismiss the idea of a prince finding genuine love with a servant. All that he could say, again in a dull tone, was "It is not as it seems."

"And yet you don't deny it. So after you had a serving girl's hands washing and binding your wounds, it was then, was it, that you allowed yourself the pleasure of kissing this young servant girl? Or maybe it was more that a kiss that you enjoyed with her?"

Arthur's tone was again flat as he stared at the floor, feeling utterly shamed in front of a roomful of strangers by Bayard's intrusive questioning, "It was no more than a kiss."

Ivan had been staring at Arthur, not quite able to take in his unbelievable good fortune. And after Arthur's reply, Ivan couldn't contain himself any longer, masking his glee with a tone of shock: "And you said to me at the meal last night that you would never behave like that with a serving girl! At least I admit it!"

"Ivan!" interjected Bayard sharply, reproaching his son for his interruption rather than for his observation. And once again, as Arthur stared at Bayard, struggling to find the right words to answer the mix of truths and distortions, Ivan had no trouble finding exactly the words he needed and there were two more words he wanted to say, and nothing – not even his father – was going to stop him saying them: "You hypocrite!"

"Ivan – you will respect the proper procedure of this court!" said Bayard as he rebuked his son again.

"I am sorry, Father. I won't interrupt again."

But the damage was done and Merlin wanted to weep for him.

And suddenly all that Merlin wanted to do was to be standing down there beside his friend, defending him against all the accusing looks and the defamations of his character. He want to scream at them all, telling them they'd got it wrong, that it wasn't like that, that Arthur was honourable and good and noble and true, that he was better than all of them, and that he was the best man that he'd ever met. He wanted to rescue Arthur from the humiliation he'd been put through and from having to listen to his love for Guinevere being turned into something base and ugly. And more than anything else, he wanted to strike Ivan down where he was standing with just one flash of his eyes. But he knew that acting at that point might solve one problem but would create a bigger one. So much as it broke Merlin's heart, he knew he had to bide his time and leave Arthur to fend for himself for the moment, and he waited for Arthur to respond, although he knew that even if Arthur could somehow convince them of his genuine love for Guinevere, that would still give a motive for the supposed crime.

But when Arthur did eventually speak, all he could think of to say in his defence as he stared at the floor was a virtual repeat of his earlier words, "It is not as you imagine it to be." But Merlin knew that his words were too few and too late to rescue his reputation that now lay in tatters. Ivan, however, could barely conceal his elation from those in the room. He couldn't believe his luck and felt the gods were truly smiling on him that day. And seeing Arthur's integrity undermined before each and every person there meant that accomplishing his aim would be even easier.

Bayard looked down at the sheet of parchment in front of him. "Well, Arthur, since you claim your motives are not as we imagine them to be, and since our imaginations should not play any part in determining the truth today anyway, maybe we should instead return to the facts before us."

And Merlin spotted at that moment what Arthur, who was still looking at the floor, didn't – a fleeting look of perverse excitement on Ivan's face, like a hound with the smell of blood: he knew what was coming and he couldn't wait.

Bayard continued. "What we do know, Arthur, is that you also attempted to carry out your threat on Ivan's life."

Arthur knew he had to put what had just happened behind him and focus on what was now being said. He knew he was in serious trouble and so appealed to Bayard, "You cannot convict me on simply their word against mine!"

But to his surprise, the king replied, "We don't have to."

Arthur faltered again, "What are you talking about?"

Bayard nodded to one of the servants there who immediately brought a sword over and laid it on the table in front of the king.

"Do you recognise this, Arthur?"

"Of course I do – it's my sword – which was taken from me, if you remember, when we entered your court."

"Then explain to me how it was brought to me by those who arrested you."

And some passion came back into Arthur's voice as he spoke: "I swear to you, I have not touched that sword since we arrived!"

"Well, it seems again Arthur that we cannot trust your words. We have a servant who has confessed to taking a bribe from you yesterday evening, in return for retrieving your sword for you."

Merlin in his hidden vantage point was filled with contempt for Ivan, and he wondered with not a small amount of anger, what sort of threats Ivan had used on some poor servant to make them part of his plan. Arthur, on the other hand, was once again filled with indignation. "I thought you said that a servant's word couldn't be accepted by this court, and yet you are taking their word against mine!"

Bayard looked steadily back at the prince, "But we don't need to rely upon their word alone, Arthur – we found two pieces of gold in their possession – gold with the markings of Camelot on them, gold matching the coins found in your possessions when they were searched after your arrest."

When Arthur spoke again to answer Bayard, the tone of indignation had gone and in its place was a growing desperation, "I am being framed – none of this is true!"

Bayard glanced down at the parchment and then looked up again at Arthur: "And what evidence do you have to back up your version of events?"

There was a pause as Arthur desperately tried to think of something – anything - that would work in his favour. He knew he was clutching at straws, but it was all he had: "When was I supposed to get the sword? I was at the banquet all evening."

Even as Arthur said the words, Merlin was shaking his head. Had the situation not been so deadly serious, Merlin would have undoubtedly called Arthur one of the many derogatory names he had for him when he did or said something stupid, or didn't think before he spoke. But Merlin knew that Arthur was desperate and his heart went out to him, as he stood alone and vulnerable, with his life on the line, and Merlin couldn't blame his friend for saying something without realising that it was just about to put himself in a worse position. Bayard's tone was firm and matter of fact, "Arthur – we have numerous witnesses who tell us that you left the banqueting hall in a hurry only to return shortly before going up to the room where the attack occurred. Where exactly did you go when you left the banqueting room?"

Arthur faltered once more, finally realising what he'd done. "I went to get some air….."

The king raised his eyebrows. "Get some air? Wouldn't it, in fact, be more accurate to say, Arthur, that you stormed out of the banquet in a rage following an exchange with my son – my son, whom you have never liked?"

Arthur once again fell silent, knowing that his words would condemn him further.

Bayard pressed him once again, "Do you deny it, Arthur?"

And when Arthur answered, it was in a quiet voice, "No…."

"And before you stormed out, had Ivan made any reference to your serving girl that implied that he was attracted to her."

Arthur fell silent once again, remembering all too well Ivan's comments about Guinevere that had made him so angry. Without looking up, he gave a small nod, but then shook his head to himself as he found himself once again being incriminated by every admission of truth he made. Bayard's conclusion was short and to the point: "The perfect reason and the perfect opportunity it would seem to retrieve your sword."

Bayard looked down at his notes again, and immediately continued, "So it seems we may have a very plausible explanation of all that happened last night. Ivan has freely admitted that he followed the serving girl out of the banqueting hall – which is also confirmed by other witnesses – and has admitted that he and Guinevere, after talking together, then went up together to her room. Sir Carac and Sir Edmund have testified that they saw you following them, and as their suspicions were aroused by the fact you had a sword in your possession, they then followed you and saw you burst into the serving girl's room. And it seems that when you found Ivan and the serving girl kissing, blind jealously fuelled your attempt to kill Ivan, and you were thankfully only prevented from doing so by the arrival of Sir Carac and Sir Edmund and the two other guards who were nearby." Bayard fixed his gaze on Arthur, and the two men's eyes met. "That's what happened, isn't it Arthur?"

Arthur knew that he was caught in a web of deceit, and that his life was hanging by the slenderest of threads. With deadly earnest, he made one last attempt to convince Bayard of his innocence. "It is not true. Your Majesty, I swear to you by all that I hold dear that I did not attempt to kill your son. I've admitted to being in a relationship with Guinevere, and yes, I was filled with rage and attacked him, but that was only because she was frightened by Ivan and did not want his advances. But I only knocked him to the ground with my fist and I swear I did him no serious harm. I swear I did not attempt to kill him."

But then Ivan's scheming dealt one final, fatal blow, as Bayard beckoned Ivan forward. "Well then, Arthur, how do you explain this?" And with that, Ivan opened his shirt, revealing a diagonal shallow gash across his chest. "Do you seriously expect us to believe that Ivan inflicted this wound on himself?" Merlin watched as all the colour drained from Arthur's face, and as he opened his mouth wanting to say something, but then found he had nothing to say. And Merlin once again shook his head, knowing what must inevitably follow.

Bayard finally pointed to Arthur's sword, still lying on the table, "Ivan's blood is still on your blade."

Arthur closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, knowing finally and without any shadow of a doubt that he was doomed. All he could do was to say simply and quietly once again to Bayard, "It is not true…."

Bayard once again paused as he looked sternly at Arthur. "You have admitted that you would be willing to kill Ivan. We have a servant who was found with coins that clearly came from you and which imply the use of a bribe. We have the word of two nobles, two guards and my son that you attacked him, we have your own sword with blood on it, and we have this fresh wound on Ivan's body. I have one final question for you. Tell me, Arthur – in the face of all this evidence have you one single piece of proof - one single thing - that can verify that your version of events is true?"

Arthur spoke almost inaudibly, shaking his head as he realised that all was lost: "No."

"Arthur – speak up so that all those present can hear you."

Arthur raised his head, and looking pale and stunned, repeated the word once again to Bayard, "No."

The king then looked around the room, addressing all the others gathered there, "So, I now ask all those assembled - are there any who still wish to argue a case in favour of Prince Arthur's innocence in the matter before us?" Bayard looked around him but not one hand was raised. "Then I have reached my verdict." He rose to his feet and addressed Arthur directly: "I find you guilty of the attempted murder of Ivan, first and only son of the king, and heir to the throne of Mercia. Such a crime can have no other penalty than that laid down by our laws both for murder and for treason. You are hereby sentenced to death, with the public execution by beheading to be carried out at this hour tomorrow morning."

Bayard paused for a moment to let this sink in. "Have you any last words for this court?"

Arthur's words were spoken quietly, again shaking his head in disbelief. "You cannot do this. You will bring war to both of our lands."

Bayard's tone when he replied was stern and uncompromising: "We will not sacrifice our justice simply to appease Camelot. If war comes, then it will have been caused by you and you alone, and any blood that will be shed will also be on your hands. You have brought dishonour on your name and upon Camelot. The rest of your party, although assumed to be innocent in this matter, will be held in the cells until they are brought to witness your execution, and they will then be permitted to return your body to Camelot."

And as Merlin looked on in horror, Bayard's final words were spoken to the guards who had brought Arthur in: "Take him to the dungeon, and chain him there."