45 The essence of vinegar still is wine
Uther stood and rocked himself gently on his own feet, to and fro.
He had stalled as long as he could. He'd taken an awful lot of time to change, to order his staff about, to ask again and again if everything was ready for tonight.
But Arthur was right (unfortunately). What must be done, must be done. He pushed the door open with a will.
"Gaius! Get lost!" His Majesty the King of Camelot spoke in a 'no-kidding' mode to which Gaius, after all these years, should have been more than used to.
However, the sight of Uther Pendragon, in all his glittering royal splendour, stemming both fists on his hips, with his crown, his golden armour, his best sword, silk-and-velvet clothes and hand-embroidered boots standing in the middle of Camelot Castle's kitchen while his precious coat combed the dusty floor was breath-taking even for the Court Physician of more than thirty years.
Well, if "breath-taking" was the word for how Gaius felt about a glittering treasure between spoiled apples and half-baked birds. "Your Majesty, I think…."
"Yes, yes, yes, you think, you always think, you never stop thinking, but right now I do think that you should go. NOW!"
With a last, hesitant look at the little heap of misery by the fire that – sometimes – listened to the name 'Merlin', Gaius shuffled off. "You can send for me, in case you need me, My Lord" he said when he passed the King.
"Oh for Gods' sake, as if we both did not know that you'll be hovering behind that door!" Uther muttered angrily, which Gaius wisely chose to totally ignore.
The physician left and two small people were alone in a very huge room.
As soon as the door had closed behind Gaius' back, Uther stomped deeper into the half-lit kitchen's gloom. The effect of all his fineries was such that even the scarce candle-light and the glow from the kitchen stove sent sparkling coloured lights to dance over the walls and ceiling. A creature of light, of day, of life and optimism was entering the realms of darkness, depression, - and an overwhelming smell of garlic.
"Go away!" Merlin said.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Go away" the warlock repeated.
"I live here" Uther retorted.
"No, you don't. You live upstairs, in the palace, with your family. It is as it should be. But it has nothing to do with me."
"Feeling a trifle sorry for ourselves, aren't we?" Uther jibbed. "Poor little sorcerer, all his magic power and still the evil world does not stand to attention every time the whim suits him. Too bad."
Merlin jumped to his feet and turned round: "What do you want?"
"My Court complete on a very important day. Is that too much to ask of you?"
"I've got nothing to celebrate!"
Uther grabbed his crown, took it off his head, and swung it like a hat as he bowed deeply to the young man in front of the old fireplace. It was as perfect a courtly bow as it was a mockery. "Forgive me, oh warlock born of legends, oh most mighty and august sorcerer, that a creature as mean and as humble as the King of Camelot has dared to disturb your thoughts and reveries. Who am I to expect my son's best friend to be present on a day that sets a seal to his sufferings?"
It did not happen often that Merlin was rendered speechless, but Uther's unexpected, so utterly uncharacteristic performance did the trick. Was that really the man whose harshness and absence of mercy kept a Kingdom on its toes?
Again, Uther put his crown back on his head and stemmed his fists back on his hips. "Merlin" he said "there will be a day – in fact there must be a day – when we have a long, arduous talk, you and I. The kind of talk Gaius and I used to have. In the old times, when I was young and thought the world was mine. Before it all went wrong. Before my wife died and took my peace with her. Today I must not dwell in the past but pave the way for Arthur's future. And I cannot do that without you."
"I'm leaving" Merlin said. "I'm going away. Didn't Gaius tell you?"
"Like hell you will" Uther thought. "Your powers, directly into Cendred's clutches? Over my dead body!" Aloud he said "Gaius told me, all right. But you did not think it necessary to tell my son!"
"Arthur would not let me go!"
"And what are you, Merlin Emrys, my son's pet doggy? If you really wanted to leave, what could my son do, lock you up? Chain you down? You? The man who's brought down Blackrock Castle with nothing but a thought or two?"
"I'd never hurt Arthur. Whatever my powers, whatever I could do to anybody else, I'd never hurt your son!" Merlin shouted heatedly.
"If I wasn't sure of that, my boy, sorcerer or no, I'd skinned you alive years ago" Uther thought acidly, but again he said something completely different. "And yet you are going to hurt my son. In fact, you're hurting him this very moment. He's been waiting for you all day."
"He's been waiting for you to remember him, more than once!" Merlin yelled back, bracing himself for the now inevitable royal tantrum.
But Uther was full of surprises today. Instead of getting raging mad and call for the guard to arrest the insolent subject, the King leaned against a pillar and folded his arms in front of his chest. "Are you finished?" he asked.
Merlin thought that, really, he hadn't even begun yet. He burned with the wish to tell the thick-headed bastard about each and every mistake the man had made in raising his son. How often Arthur had felt betrayed, or lost, or lonely, or used by his father. It had been Uther who'd once sentenced Merlin to death, it had been him who'd sent Arthur to Blackrock in the first place, it had been him who'd turned Arenboarth and his Druids into homeless refugees, and it had been Uther Pendragon who'd made Anwar of Llanfair into a heartless monster. Without Uther's stupidity, Arenboarth would still be alive, and Antek, and Cendred's son Gyrrin, and countless, COUNTLESS others…. and Agneta…. Agneta….
It was all Uther's fault. Each and everything was Uther's fault. Yes, Merlin saw it clearly now. This so called King was an idiot and therefore all the world must suffer! Merlin was sick of it, really and truly sick of it, sick, sick, sick, SICK of it! "Leave me alone!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.
However – Uther didn't stir. "It doesn't help" he said instead, as calm as you please. "Believe me, I know. You think it helps, laying blame, running away, brooding in the dark – but it does not. I lost my wife because I craved a child where nature would not oblige. I almost lost my son because I had to have my way, no matter what – I brooded my head off, believe me, hour after hour until I thought I'd die from it: What if, what if, and what if not. It takes you nowhere."
"I'm done here. I've done my duty to Camelot!"
"Yes, you have. I don't deny it."
"Then why not let me go?"
Uther took a deep breath. This asked for the pure and simple truth, and after more than twenty years on a throne, he wasn't much used to that anymore. With a trembling feeling of dread, he dared the plunge. "Because Arthur needs you. Gaius needs you. My Kingdom needs you. The Gods have mercy on me, I need you. If you ever tell a living soul I said that, I'll kill you."
Against his will, and in spite of all his desperation, Merlin felt a grin tucking at the corners of his mouth. Sometimes, rarely ever, but sometimes, there was a tiny bit of Arthur in his father. The ready smile, the sudden warmth beneath the coldness of the splendour … oh but for the King Arthur could become with that valour made of steel but a heart not made of stone ….. "You need me?" The words were out before Merlin could hold them back. This was Uther Pendragon, the man responsible for so much suffering, and yet….
"Merlin, did Gaius ever tell you about the time when I first took Camelot?"
Bewildered before, Merlin was now gobsmacked by the sudden change of subject. He shook his head. What had that to do with anything?
"I had my sword, my men and not much else. I took a Kingdom with my blade and it's Queen in one, glorious rush. The world was my oyster, and nothing could stop me from prying it open and swallow it whole. Arenboarth, the Old Religion, sorcerers, witches, Gods or monsters – they're all the same to me, I did not need them or anyone. And, you know, it's true. I lost Igraine and I thought I would die, but look at me, here I stand. I've been betrayed, threatened, attacked, blackmailed and almost killed, more often than I can count. But here I am. Alive, victorious, the King of Camelot." Uther stood tall now, his hand a blade that came up and down in a sharp, well measured gesture. "I'm Uther Pendragon, anyone's master, nobody's slave."
"And yet I never envied you" Merlin whispered hoarsely. Something was choking him deep within, and he knew not what or why. So full a life, but so much emptiness behind it.
"I know" Uther replied. "Neither did Gaius. Therefore I need him. I always have. And therefore my son needs you. And always will."
The pressure inside Merlin's throat grew stronger. And with it came a feeling of 'now-or-never'. This mood, this stitch in time, would not repeat itself. "You've killed so many" the warlock said. "Guinivere's father. And in a way, you've killed mine, too."
"I thought I might make Camelot into a better place. For that, I sacrificed everything. Even Balinor. Here, and now, and only to you, I say it: Perhaps, I might have gone too far. But I did what I did because I thought it right. As did Agneta. And as did you. If these deeds cost the Druid woman her life and you the shelter of your innocence – life sometimes takes a shitty road. Face it, sorcerer: You aren't a child anymore."
"Is that all, Uther? A few well-led words, cheap to buy, easy to say – and off you pop, from Satan's purging fire to heaven in a leap that cost you nothing?"
"How much did Blackrock's downfall take from you? Did your heart bleed when Antek died? Would you not turn against your dearest friend, for Arthur's sake? Did you not face the question: Camelot and Arthur or another man's life, and was the answer not: Camelot and Arthur, each and every time?"
"Do you, of all men, hold that against me?"
"No. Not I. You do. You're crouching here in the dark, in the dirt, like a kicked rat. You're mourning Agneta's death, you're mourning the unfairness of life, of fate, and whatnot. Most of all you're mourning yourself. You're a whining, self-pitying little toddler who's fallen on his little knee for the very first time. Balinor would be ashamed of you!"
"LEAVE MY FATHER OUT OF THIS!" Merlin raged, and all around the two men the kitchen interior raged with him; in fact his wrath shook the very castle walls for a moment.
"You mentioned Balinor first" Uther retorted drily. If he was intimidated by the storm of wrath, that, very literally, raged all around him, he did not show it. "You talked very grandly about him. About Arthur; and about my wickedness and evil deeds. Surely you think that, one day, my son will put it all to right. Once Arthur has become King, his rule will be legendary. An era of peace and justice is about to come, once I'm dead and gone."
"You're right" Merlin yelled again. "It will. And that is why….."
"That is why Agneta is dead" Uther interrupted him harshly. "The difference between you and me is not as big as you would wish, magician. You had to make a choice, and you made it. There's only one step left to go – face the consequences of your choices and live with them."
"It's easy for you to say, you always had the others die!"
"You've fought, and killed, that's why our warlock born of legends is still among us. Stop betraying yourself, sorcerer!"
"I did it for Arthur. He WILL make things right once he's become King."
"And he's begun today, with tonight's celebration that will make Morgyan the Countess of Llanfair. Cendred and I will sign a treaty of peace and friendship that would not be possible without Arthur. And not without you. Two Kingdoms reconciled, my grandson alive, and Morgyan once again with a future to face – damn it, is that so little that you hide yourself away in the dark for shame?"
"You do not understand! If I had not been so wanton, so idiotically stupid, we could have had it all, and without the bloodshed. I had it in my hand, and I got it wrong. I made a mistake….."
All of a sudden, Uther's calm was gone. He roared as on his best of days. "I have made more mistakes than I'm able to recall, warlock. I would cut off both my arms if I could make at least one or two of them undone. But I can't. And neither can you. You burden my son with the load of your guilt, to put it all to right in some distant, glorious future. Well then, I burden you, today, with the load of making amends for my mistakes. You gave my son the chance to live and see this day. You will not abandon him now!"
"How can I make good on your mistakes?"
"Without you, Arthur might never become King. And where is your great and sunny future then, eh? Get off your arse, change into your Court Robes and join my son's great day. You owe that much to him!"
Merlin was sure he had no idea what the madman was talking about. He sure wouldn't waver in his resolve to leave Camelot for good. He would not – could not – let Uther Pendragon, the killer of thousands, come between him and his chosen future of penance. Perhaps he'd lead a life in solitude. Like a spirit, banned into a tree. Or a cave. Merlin Emrys would kiss the world good-bye and leave all of Camelot's splendour far behind. There was no other way. He could not remember the last time he'd felt completely at peace with himself. He was troubled by doubts, what is right, what is wrong, what should I do, what should I not do, how far can I go, where must I stop – it chaffed the skin of his soul, violated his peace of mind; his magic itself stirred restlessly under the constant pressure. That was no way to live. He needed purity. Clarity of mind. Tranquillity. A simple, peaceful life.
And all this nonsense of him burdening Arthur with all his secret desires, with all the decisions he himself did not wish to make, with all the good that somehow had to come from all the evil he'd seen – if the world wasn't all chaos, the Gods a joke and Khilgarrah's talk of destiny just a bunch of empty words: Some good HAD to come out of evil and wrong choices, hadn't it? Hadn't it?
And it was Arthur's destiny to make it all come true. What on earth could Uther have meant? Surely Merlin wasn't burdening Arthur with anything.
Fate just had to be at work here.
It could not all have been for nothing, could it?
Some questions might take a century before one figures them out.
Merlin yelped when Uther grabbed him by the collar, dragged him to the door, opened it and, without any further ado, pushed the warlock into Gaius waiting arms, with the strict order to get him ready for tonight's events.
The King walked away and for one reason or the other, Merlin did not even think of refusal when Gaius led him to his chamber.
Deeply troubled by his thoughts, Merlin changed into his fineries, and took his place next to Arthur for the ceremony. Somehow he'd found his best set of clothes, somehow Gaius had washed his face and hands clean (though not much else) and, by some miracle or another, Arthur was in a mood bright enough to overlook that Merlin had turned his shirt inside-out whilst putting it on…
When Merlin finally came to his senses far enough to follow the procedures, he had to admit: It was a nice ceremony. Camelot at its best. And everyone seemed happy enough. And they had all come, even the Druids filled the great hall in a festive mood.
Morgyan was very beautiful. When Cendred and Uther together declared her hereditary Countess of Llanfair, the ladies of the Court sighed in unison. More than one knight or courtier was moon-eyed like a calf.
Guinivere looked splendid, too. Merlin could not remember when he'd last seen her as radiant as she was today. Indeed, just a little imagination and one could well think that nothing bad had ever happened, no Blackrock, no Rashnijaan, no Arenboarth, no Agneta…
And with that thought, the sweet taste in Merlin's mouth turned once again to ashes.
"Great Mother" someone said behind his back, just loud enough for Merlin to hear it. "Look at the hero of the Druid people. A warlock born of legends, with the face of a half-dead turkey."
Merlin went white as chalk, he felt it himself. "I have nothing to say to you, Marwon" he spat softly, but with stiff lips.
"You're getting very grand, Court Sorcerer" Marwon retorted. "We Druids are welcome now in Camelot, by the King's command. If my father had lived to see the day, he'd been overwhelmed with joy."
"You should not mock your father. Isn't it enough you helped to kill your wife?"
"Forgive me, oh mighty Emrys, but I think my father as well as my wife are my concern, and mine alone."
"Since when are you concerned for them? When you decided to betray Arenboarth's legacy by becoming a knight of Camelot or when you ran to fetch the Dragon that could kill Agneta?"
Merlin suppressed another yelp when Marwon took his arm in an iron, painful grip. "Mind your words, magician. Or you'll have to stand up for them!"
"Anything wrong?" Arthur asked as he walked up on them. Again, Merlin had a disorienting sense of déjà vu. The clothes, the smile, the golden circlet on his head – Arthur might as well have been six years younger, a youthful, boasting prat that had his first bit of evil still to see.
At once, Marwon let go of the warlock's arm. As if the anger, the insult, had never been there. "It is a wonderful feast, Your Highness" the Druid replied, with unfamiliar formality. "It is as my father and my wife would have wished it to be. It was the Lord Druid's dearest wish that one day my people and Camelot would be at peace once more."
Arthur smiled briefly at Merlin, and for the first time in many a month, the smile came as easily and readily as it had come before his captivity in Blackrock. With an inexplicable pang of conscience, Merlin realized that, at least tonight, in this moment, Arthur was truly happy. "I know it must seem hollow to you, my friend" the Prince now said to Marwon. "The Druids have lost so much. But, while we cannot change the past, the future is for us to make. Camelot sure is a better place for the Druids' return to it. And though he'd never find the words, I know my father thinks the same."
"I take it that King Cendred will return home in a few days?" Marwon changed the subject, as the air suddenly became too thickly packed with emotions to be breathed.
Arthur cocked a brow at the obvious distraction, but, good-humouredly, he voluntarily fell for it. "Yes. There's a lot to be done before Morgyan can even begin to rebuild Blackrock Castle. And Antek's liegemen and household people are scattered all across Albion. Not an easy heritage for the new Countess of Llanfair."
"Not even with Camelot's purse at her disposal?"
Arthur scoffed softly. "And Cendred's no doubt. He even said he'd not repair the damage done to his own stronghold. He'll make do without the wrecked place."
"So his ruined castle will not be rebuilt?" Marwon's voice had an edge to it now.
Arthur looked at him reassuringly. "Morgyan will find a new site to rebuild Blackrock" he said. "A site without the haunts and spectres from the past. Cendred wants to make the leftovers of his former stronghold into a monument for his son. You and your tribe have nothing to fear from them, Marwon. They both want to let the dead rest in peace, nothing else."
Only now Merlin realized that, without thinking, the three of them had taken a stroll around the hall, quite naturally. Arthur, the Crown Prince, discussing some business of state with one interested party. Merlin, with his ears pricked, walking in his wake.
How could things so very unnatural so suddenly and unexpectedly slip back into their natural place?
"I hope you understand why we had to bury Agneta alone, and in the last night in the forest" Marwon said apologetically. "My people's burial rites are rarely shared with others. And Khilgarrah…"
"Well, yes" Arthur interjected hastily. "If the Dragon sees fit to do it this way, we will not intervene. Why should we?"
"And even if you would" Merlin said acidly "I wonder what you might accomplish against a Dragon?"
An elbow punched into his ribs announced Gaius' presence. "That is not what Arthur meant, Merlin."
Arthur sighed melodramatically. "Thanks, Gaius, but for once Merlin is right. How could we fight the Great Dragon, now that my father has forsworn his war against magic and I have forsworn my dangerous and wanton ways of life?"
"Do I hear the Lady Guinivere in this, My Lord?" Marwon laughed.
"Loud and clearly, my dear friend, loud and clearly. My Lady reminded me that we have Little Thomas to raise, Camelot to rule, and a marriage to live, so I lack the time for knightly quests and daylight robbery. Or something like that."
"Your Highness doesn't sound exactly aggravated by the perspective."
"For the time being, even Arthur Pendragon is somewhat fed up with lethal danger and mortal enemies" the Prince retorted. Merlin flinched in astonishment, especially as Arthur continued "Leon and Mirella will leave Camelot with your niece, my father isn't as young as he once was, and we've an awful lot of work ahead of us, to overcome the damage that was done. Guinivere is right. It is time for us to settle down."
"No hard feelings?" Gaius asked and at first Merlin did not know what he meant.
Arthur stopped short in his walk, but only for a moment. "No" the Prince then firmly stated. "I had ….. misunderstood a thing or two. Guinivere opened my eyes to that." Suddenly he chuckled. "Would you believe it? I'm talking like the old housefather already."
"Perhaps King Uther is not as old and feeble as you think" Merlin said, and he cursed his quick tongue only when it was too late.
Arthur stared, Gaius winked, and Marwon cocked his head. Merlin had the distinct feeling that there was a conspiracy going on behind his back.
"Camelot's Court Sorcerer also seems willing to settle things, Your Highness" Marwon said with a sardonic undertone. "If he settles his score with Uther, he can settle any other old score, too."
"Yeees…" Arthur drawled with narrowed eyes. "Although old Geoffrey told me only an hour ago that he had it on good authority: Our dear Merlin wants to leave us to our fates. Some uneasy feeling with the way we overcame our last adventure."
"Not everyone who's thinking of leaving is an idiot" Merlin said with hot cheeks. "Albeit I've heard of Princes running away from their kingdoms, right into the demons' trap."
"And that is the world you would leave me to, Merlin" Arthur moaned, while Marwon and Gaius respectively gnawed their lips to keep them from smirking too openly. "All alone. Without you."
"Didn't you say you're going to settle down?" Merlin snapped.
"How could I? Who would wash my socks, clean my armour, sharpen my sword….."
"Not I! You need another fool to do your dirty work!"
"Because my favourite fool is going to abandon me?"
"I'm not… oh, go to hell! Prat!"
"Sire, I feel some official word is needed here!"
"You're right My Lord Druid Marwon. Merlin, listen: If you leave now, Gaius will never forgive you, my father will once more think all sorcerers treacherous, disloyal bastards, and my wife will come after you to take revenge for all the anxious nights she'll have to spend sleepless because you're not here to watch over me and Thomas. But that all amounts to nothing, compared to what I'm going to do, if you leave Camelot!"
Grudgingly curious, Merlin asked: "What are you going to do?"
"Seek out Khilgarrah, and ask him about all your little secrets. How often you blundered, how often he had to pull your little ass out of the fire, how often your spells went awry…."
"My spells never go awry. Never ever!"
"Don't believe him, Arthur, he's lying…." Marwon couldn't help himself, this was too good.
"I'm not… what do you know about magic anyway."
"Gaius, can you confirm that? Did Merlin's spells never go haywire?"
"Well, Sire, let me think a moment…."
"Oh, get lost, the lot of you!" Merlin wasn't sure, but he thought he might get really angry every moment now. He turned on his heel and marched away, a picture of indignity.
"Merlin" Arthur called.
The warlock had no idea how, or why, but he stopped. "What?"
"I want my breakfast at half past eight tomorrow morning. Will you see to it?"
"Ask Humphrey."
"Humphrey isn't you."
"I'm not your manservant!"
"Will you see to it, Merlin?"
"Why should I?" Merlin was stubbornly resolved to remain stubborn.
"I don't know" Arthur replied. "In fact, I do not know why someone with your powers ever should do anything for anyone. But, as you've been doing it for so many years now – I thought, perhaps you like it?"
"No!"
"I also thought that, like Princes, even sorcerers need a home."
"No!"
"Merlin, tell me, what do sorcerers need?"
The warlock looked up. All around him the feast was well underway.
Uther and Cendred were talking to each other. Doubtlessly about the alliance that was at the forefront of Cendred's mind. He missed Gyrrin terribly, but he had other sons to consider, bastards the lot of them, and for their succession he needed Pendragon support.
Morgyan, holding court with some of her future liegemen, had made it very clear that she did not wish to marry. Uther had frowned at that, Cendred scowled, Arthur smiled, and Gaius had, in private, shrugged it off. "She's young" the healer had said. "Comes time, comes love. There will one day be another Antek. Nature has a way to have its way. You'll see."
Leon and Mirella were laughing with some of Cendred's knights in another corner. The men adored Leon and his family already.
The Druids may be vegetarians, but they knew a good wine when they could have it. They were enjoying themselves thoroughly. Those who still mourned their loved ones had stayed away. Others obviously thought that life had to go on. Sooner or later, it would for all of them.
In one of the windows, Merlin glimpsed a ray of light.
The night had passed, but spirits were still high. The servants would have a hard time clearing away the banquet's leftovers in time for breakfast.
Uther was now playing with Little Thomas, who crowed with delight. All of a sudden, Guinivere looked a bit distraught. Small wonder. Her little child out of his cot at this time of night!
Merlin turned and looked back. Gaius, Arthur, Marwon – still looking at him expectantly.
"Half past eight, you said?" the warlock asked snappily.
"Yes, Merlin."
"A trifle early. But suit yourself. 'Till then, Arthur."
"Good night, Merlin."
The feast went on as night changed into morning, and at half past eight, Merlin slept and Arthur did not have the heart to wake him.
Instead he shared a cup of hot herbal tea with Gaius, as he had done as a child many times.
"Well, Gaius, thanks for the tea. It still wakes the dead."
Gaius smiled and nodded. "My secret recipe, Arthur. One of these days, I must give it to Merlin."
"By all means. We can't do without it." The Prince nodded a good-bye at Gaius.
"Arthur" Gaius said.
"What?"
"It never got a name, this recipe. It should have one now. My legacy to Camelot."
"Sure, otherwise Merlin would never remember it anyway. Anything special on your mind?"
"I thought to call it 'The Homecoming'."
Arthur hesitated in the door. "Good name" he then said.
S
A/N: This is it. Finis. Hurrah! I thought I'd never finish it. My humble and most heart-felt thanks to all who've stayed with me and The Llanfair Heritage right to the Happy Ending.
Thanks for the reviews, but don't forget to leave some more :-). And, give Darkenwood's other stories a fair chance! See you in A Future Haunted by the Past, for example.