Ridiculously long author's note (feel free to skip -- there's a chapter down there somewhere)

Oh dear, the Plot Bunny of Caerbannog struck again during the exam period and in the absence of any Holy Hand-Grenades I definitely foresee a sequel. Bugger! There's still loads to write for this yet, though to be fair I have had this idea in the back of my mind since I started, but only now has it has finally started to develop itself. Expect foreshadowing soon.

Anyway, enough about that – I'm finally back. Best not to mention the exams but I'm looking forward to getting down to writing again. Well technically they're not over yet but I've written a little more anyway and I've met up with 'some I prepared earlier' so I should be able to give you reasonable updates until I finish exams properly. Hopefully my readers haven't all abandoned me and assuming somebody is still reading, thank you kindly for putting up with the wait. Sorry!

After much rearranging of ideas this chapter is not Merlin and Arthur despite what I said but that's only so I can focus on them more in the next few chapters without cutting back to Camelot during the important bits or in the middle of cliff-hangers. It's also mostly OCs again, I'm afraid (the servants are only in this chapter though). The advantage of this is that I can get away with behaviour that would be uncharacteristic of the real characters. Yup the knight's code has flown out of the window and migrated to warmer climes faster than an unladen swallow by the end of this chapter. *End of Monty Python references*

Thanks as always to everyone who reviewed. I think that was my biggest response so far. You are all amazing!

emerald.97 - Thank you so much for your continued feedback. I love reading your comments and they really do encourage me.

Orion1432 - Wow! Well done on reading all 18 chapters. So pleased you thought it was amazing and found my ghost girl creepy. Sorry for not updating for so long but I hope you'll continue to read and enjoy the rest of this story just as much.

Her - Thanks for your review of chapter 2. Glad you liked my allusion to the round table -- I couldn't resist slipping it in unsubtly. I hope you managed to read the rest of this story and that you enjoyed it.

Hopefully I replied to everyone who left signed reviews and if I missed anybody then thank you now.

I hope you continue to enjoy the rest of the story and to make up for the long wait the next chapter will be posted very soon.

Chapter 19

The castle kitchens were buzzing with activity. The sizzling meat on the roaring fire filled the air with a succulent aroma and around a large rectangular table in the centre of the room, vegetables were being hurriedly chopped and sliced in a frantic attempt to get dinner prepared on time. The shelves on each wall were packed with comestibles and cookware and in one corner a pair of women, one young, pale and slender, the other more mature and wearing a no nonsense down-to-earth expression, were scrubbing at a pile of filthy plates that had been left out far too long.

"Has anybody seen the pork?" a cry drifted out across the room. "Come on. A large joint of meat doesn't just vanish!" The rest of the kitchen just shrugged and shook their heads.

"That's the fourth thing that's gone missing today. I'm telling you it's not natural," Anna, the young woman, said.

"Have you looked out of a window lately," replied Noreen. "There's nothing natural around here anymore. Misplaced food should be the least of your problems."

"Well I still reckon it's ghosts." Noreen tutted loudly.

"With you everything is ghosts," said Noreen, splashing a plate down roughly into the dirty water. "You drop the prince's dinner, it's ghosts, mice nibble the vegetables, it's ghosts."

"It could be King Uther come back for revenge," Anna explained, as she wiped away the wet droplets that had spattered her face.

"Revenge against what?" Noreen scoffed. "Clumsy kitchen maids? Carrots?"

"It's possible."

"You're an idiot." Noreen shook her head. "If King Uther is in this kitchen, I'll personally eat this dishcloth."

"CRASH!" A pile of plates toppled to the floor. The older of the two followed with her eyes as the final plate rotated, slower and slower on the stone before final spinning to a halt with a clatter. She looked to her companion, set on blaming the girls ineptitude for simple tasks. But Anna was in a right state.

"What was that!" said Anna, flustering. Noreen was staring at her accusingly. "It wasn't me, I swear. I told you, I told you. It's the king's ghost."

"Pull yourself together girl."

"Oh my, the king's here. Don't panic! Don't panic!" She said, clutching at Noreen's dress.

Noreen sighed, prying Anna's fingers from her clothing. "Have you been talking to Old Meg again. I've warned you about her before. You know she's several knights short of a tournament. She sold you a rub to prevent, what was it again, the 'multi-coloured pimple plague'? It turned out to be badger droppings."

"I haven't caught it yet though, have I?" Anna replied, matter-of-factly. Noreen curled up her nose.

"Neither has anyone else. She made it up!"

"Well anyway, I haven't spoken to her," said Anna defensively.

"Then who?"

"Just Gwen."

"Gwen? Gwen thinks there's ghosts? The Lady Morgana's ex-maid Gwen? Gwen?"

"Well she didn't say ghosts exactly, but there's been peculiar goings on all over the castle that nobody can explain."

Right on cue, another young serving girl cautiously entered the room. Satisfied that there was no paranormal activity occurring at that moment, she pushed the door firmly shut behind her.

"You're right," she said. "The king's bedchambers have been disturbed, other areas of the castle are completely wrecked, Eve says she saw Gaius talking to someone who wasn't there and Alan swears that Sir Caradoc's lunch just vanished of the plate as he was delivering it."

"See? I knew it!" Anna shouted. Noreen shot an incredulous look in her direction.

"Who else have you told about this?" she asked.

"Just you and Enid," Anna answered.

"You are unbelievable sometimes! Well see it stays that way, otherwise we'll look like complete fools."

"And Glenn, and Mark, Oh and then there's Ailie…" remembered Anna.

"Alright, alright, but don't tell anyone else."

"…and Iain and Bree and Corliss…"

Sigh

"…and Masie…"

"Just shut up."

x x x

Gwen did not know why she'd decided to go along with this. Firstly the notion that there was an invisible Uther roaming the corridors of Camelot was hard to believe, and secondly this was Uther. Assuming the king even went along with this plan, which seemed highly unlikely, why should she help him? The man was cruel and unfeeling and what is more he had had her father killed. Dead or not, Uther was gone and she felt no compulsion to change that.

Gwen was startled as she heard a door bang. Oh, it was was nothing, just an ordinary, visible person exiting a room. Maybe there were drawbacks to Uther being invisible. She had been on edge ever since she found out, jumping at every thud or clang or rattle where the source was not immediately apparent. It was very unsettling knowing that there was someone in the castle that she couldn't see, someone who could be watching her... right now.

Oh, pull yourself together Guinevere, she thought, he's the king and you're a nobody. That hasn't changed. You're not worth a first glance to him. Besides, it's not as if you're doing anything wrong.

Gwen pondered. What exactly would happen if Uther stayed lost forever? After all, Caradoc was just as bad, maybe even worse. Surely Arthur would return. He had to. Yes, Arthur would return and when he did he would make a far better king than his father.

His father.

Arthur cared for Uther deeply, how could he not, he was family after all. And Gwen cared for Arthur. Did she really want him to have to go through the pain of losing a parent? Uther wasn't really lost, not like her own father, but what difference did that make if the only way he could communicate was through violent outbursts. If she were feeling cynical she might have wondered if anyone would actually notice the difference, but that was not her nature. Uther at least cared for his son and it wasn't right that he should be cut off from his last remaining shred of humanity like this.

She knew with Uther 'gone' that Arthur would be hurt. After all, what must that feel like having someone you love right beside you, both knowing the other is there but just outside of your reach? An uncrossable, unbreakable barrier between you both. Each of you somewhere unreachable. She thought she knew exactly what that felt like but it wasn't the same thing at all.

She didn't know what she could do, but at heart she was a good person. She wouldn't let her personal feelings stand in the way of what was right. It was a little task, but if she, a simple maid, whose duty it was to serve could do this one small thing to benefit Camelot then it was her job to see it done. She prided herself in doing her job well. Besides, Gaius had asked her to do it and in him she trusted. She could do this small thing for him and she could do it for Arthur.

That is why she had agreed to start the rumour mill turning in the end. She had felt bad for deceiving her friends, although it wasn't really a deception. Uther was around after all and she definitely hadn't mentioned anything about spirits or ghosts. That was all in their imagination. In fact she had been very careful to avoid lying, she had merely omitted certain truths in order to maximise potential gossip. Anna's superstitious nature was inadvertantly a blessing in getting the intended message across.

Had it worked though? Only time would tell.

x x x

Late that evening, Hadwyn followed Caradoc downstairs to the kitchens. They were investigating numerous reports of unrest and the servants muttered as they entered. They both felt that they were wasting time, Caradoc especially. A ghost in the kitchen, and Uther's nonetheless? Really, this was too much. What should he be expected to find next? Leprechauns in the larder? Goblins in the guardroom?

"Honestly, a few fallen pots and pans and everyone goes to pieces." Caradoc helped himself to a chicken leg from the large table in the centre of the room and started munching loudly. "Is there something you want to say," Caradoc asked Anna with food in his open mouth. She shook her head nervously. "Go on, get out of here, all of you," Caradoc shouted.

The servants scurried away leaving Caradoc and Hadwyn alone in the room. Caradoc began a spurious investigation of the room, looking behind piles of stacked plates, inside bottles and beneath small jars for nothing in particular. He uncovered a pot, which was bubbling on the stove, and tasted the contents with his finger before spitting it back out.

"Sack the cook," Caradoc ordered.

"You're going too far," said Hadwyn tensely.

"Excuse me!" Caradoc exclaimed, slamming the lid back down with a crash.

"You're going too far," Hadwyn repeated coldly. "It's been one day and you're behaving like a tyrant."

"Maybe I am," Caradoc sneered, moving round the table towards him. "But what are you going to do about it?" He stared at Hadwyn, his will unshakable. There came the silence he expected as Hadwyn turned away from him, most unassertive as usual. Caradoc grinned in contentment.

Hadwyn stood with his back to him. He was sick of this. Just because he didn't seek out confrontation, that did not mean he couldn't fight as bravely as anyone else. He was fed up of been pushed around by someone of equal status to himself. He was fed up of having his courage and loyalties questioned. Well, he would show him now. Someone had to act and it might as well be him. He had picked up a kitchen knife from the table and was tossing it in his hand. His tormentor was still smiling.

"THIS!" he yelled as the blade hurtled across the room. Caradoc froze aghast as the knife sped through the air towards him. He leant back as it whooshed above his head and ripped into a sack on a shelf above him, sending a cascade of apples thudding onto him and rolling across the floor. That wasn't very knightly.

Hadwyn unsheathed his sword. Caradoc blinked as the last of the fruit bounced of his skull. Recovering from the shock of Hadwyn's abrupt change in character, he drew his own sword. They each sized up their opponent. They already knew each other. Hadwyn was younger, faster and restrained, but Caradoc had size and strength on his side and even though he did tend to let anger get the better of him in battle, it took a lot to bring the man down.

Hadwyn started to get the feeling he'd made a big mistake as Caradoc made the first move, but he was only teasing at this stage. A half-hearted strike towards his left side was easily parried, as was a high attack to his shoulder. Hadwyn wasn't in the mood for playing games. He launched a violent assault on Caradoc, determined to get a swift upper hand. The grating and ringing of steel drowned out any other noises. He managed to slice Caradoc's left arm, but it wasn't too deep. Caradoc didn't seem impeded much as he swiped forward, forcing Hadwyn to duck to avoid the blow. They continued to fight, Hadwyn watching his gigantic enemy closely, searching for any weaknesses. He tried to jab him as he recovered from a particularly over-exuberant attack but his sword was knocked aside forcefully at the last moment.

"I was wrong about you," Caradoc spat between their crossed swords. "You're not just a pathetic runt, you're annoying too." Caradoc broke away with a shove. "If you give up now, I may be lenient."

"Not this time," Hadwyn said, twirling his sword challengingly in an Arthuresque manner.

Caradoc directed another, particularly vicious strike towards Hadwyn. He dodged easily. Stepping back, he misplaced his foot which rolled on the spilled fruit. His legs flew forward from under him and he tumbled to the floor, sword skidding from his grasp and under the table beside him. Looking up in fright, he saw Caradoc sneering as his weapon came plummeting down towards him. Without hesitation, he rolled underneath the table, to avoid the blow. Back against the cold stone flags, panting, Hadwyn heard Caradoc's roar. Hadwyn stretched sideways to retrieve his sword, but before his hand could touch the hilt, he was forced to swiftly withdraw, only narrowly avoiding crushed fingers as the table overturned.

Now Hadwyn was unarmed and escape routes were blocked. He saw Caradoc looming over him, determined to finish him off. In an act of desperation, he lashed out, boots impacting Caradoc's shins hard. Caradoc stumbled, his aim lost and Hadwyn heard the satisfying 'THUNK!' of metal into wood. The table creaked and groaned beside him as Caradoc tugged in frustration at his embedded sword, which wouldn't budge. Hadwyn pushed himself upright again in the lull. He couldn't afford to let Caradoc recover his weapon so gathering up all his strength he shouldered the great brute away. His face became contorted with effort.

Caradoc was pushed a mere two steps at most. He glowered at the nerve of this little pipsqueak before landing a punch to Hadwyn's face. His fist collided with his opponents jaw with a crunch and he watched as Hadwyn's head reeled back. When it came to a fist fight he clearly had the advantage. Spitting up blood, Hadwyn countered with a series of ineffectual blows of his own. Then Caradoc returned in kind. Hadwyn managed to dodge him for the most part, but a further hit pounded him directly and broke his nose. As he was staggering, Caradoc grabbed him and, whirling around sharply, had him pinned against the shelves on the back wall with a loud crash and a clattering of metal plates.

Before Hadwyn knew what was happening he could feel the shelves digging into his spine as he dangled, choking. There was a warm trickle from his nose and a metallic taste in his mouth. Caradoc leered at him. Hadwyn's eyes shifted to his left, then to his right, trying to find some way out. Hope flashed behind them as he spotted a candlestick next to him and he strained his right arm in a vain attempt to grab it. At the same time he was struggling against his attacker. His hand enclosed around nothing, then nothing again, before finally he had a firm hold around the heavy, wrought metal pole. It was difficult, particularly when grabbed from this awkward angle, but Hadwyn managed to drag the candlestick forward and tilt it towards the two of them. Caradoc yelped as the lit candles burnt him and the flames singed the hairs on his wrist. Automatically his grip on Hadwyn was released and Hadwyn and the candlestick fell to the floor.

The candles themselves went out, but not before a piece of discarded sacking had caught alight. As Hadwyn crawled away gasping, he flung the half-blazing sack backwards at Caradoc's head. Caradoc quickly threw it off himself and stamped out the flames, by which time Hadwyn had armed himself with a broom handle. His face was throbbing, but it was too late to back down now. If he did he would surely lose his life.

Caradoc growled and snatched a broom of his own from beside the wall. There followed a furious clacking of wood on wood as both men tried to land a blow whilst keeping their footing on the wreckage-strewn floor. The limited space was not ideal. Caradoc attacked with a series of jabs and thrusts. Hadwyn deflected but was aware that Caradoc was manoeuvring him back towards the overturned table where he would be effectively cornered. Hadwyn launched a counter attack and Caradoc was driven a step backwards. The huge man grimaced as Hadwyn slipped a blow past his defence, landing a successful hit to his injured arm. A second to the chest soon followed, as Caradoc let his staff drop slightly.

Eyes aflame, Caradoc knocked back Hadwyn's broom, CLACK, blocked a third hit, CLACK, and attempted an overhead strike. Hadwyn dodged beneath Caradoc's arm, switching positions. He belted him round the stomach as he passed. Caradoc grunted, crouching over in pain and was almost brought to his knees by powerful knock to the back of the legs. As he fell forward, the broom flew out from his hands, which caught hold of the table, keeping him on his feet at least.

Behind the table's edge the silvery glint of steel met his eye. He turned and an even sharper glint in his eye met Hadwyn. He vaulted awkwardly over the table, receiving a painful crack on the hand as he did, then his opponent followed nimbly. Hadwyn lunged at him, and Caradoc deliberately rode the force of the blow to the floor.

Victorious, Hadwyn leant forward straddling him. His mangled face was struggling to contain his rage and he was brandishing his stick menacingly above the fallen knight's head.

"Do you surrender?" Hadwyn shouted. Caradoc simply smiled back up at him. Hadwyn scowled more, positively fuming. "Do you yield? Do you?"

His fell silent as he felt the sharp poke of metal against his stomach. His face dropped as he saw the reason for Caradoc's amusement. Caradoc was holding Hadwyn's sword.

"Do you?" Sir Caradoc asked. Hadwyn's wooden pole clattered to the floor as his sword jabbed him harder. He backed away with widened eyes, as Caradoc rose up, keeping weapon contact at all times. Once he was on his feet, Caradoc took hold of him and with his sword to his neck, escorted him out of the kitchens and down the corridor.

As they approached the palace entrance, Hadwyn heard the rapid movement of approaching feet. Typical, now everyone shows up. The other knights rounded the corner and stopped at the sight of Caradoc holding Hadwyn at sword point. Even just halting in the corridor, they were subconsciously stood in two factions, those that backed Caradoc (or were too afraid of him to do otherwise) and those who were opposed, with a few loitering between. Both sides were fairly evenly matched.

"Chain him up!" Caradoc commanded. The shocked knights hesitated. "Unless you'd rather me kill him here." There was a troubled murmuring among the assembled soldiers.

A pair stepped forward to escort Hadwyn to the dungeons. Hadwyn maintained a defiant silence as he was led in the direction of the cells.

"Oh, no no," Caradoc said. "Not that way."

"Sorry?"

"I want to set an example, in case any of you should be getting ideas," Caradoc bellowed to everyone. "He will be chained outside."

"Outside? But the illusions, the wyverns. That's barbaric," the knights mumbled softly amongst themselves.

"You can't!" One of the knight's yelled out. He was one of Caradoc's supporters, or had been. Caradoc shot him a cautionary glare and he was silenced.

Suddenly, Caradoc got an uneasy shiver as he felt someone at his back. He whipped his head back to look and saw no-one. But there were NO ghosts in Camelot, that would be preposterous.

"Get on with it!" he shouted tetchily.

Everyone watched as the condemned man was marched between them, out through the main door and into the dim square. The prisoner and his escort were silhouetted black in the doorway against the red glow of the setting sun. It would be a nice day tomorrow. Hadwyn turned sadly to face the castle one more time, knowing he had done the right thing, before the doors boomed shut behind him, echoing through the silence that was deathly still. He knew most likely this night would be his last.

Ok-ay, I went a little overboard with the fight scene. I can't believe it ended up about 1300 words. Hope it wasn't too confusing/boring.

Thanks for reading! Stand by for the next chapter very soon.