A man with a flint

Something unbelievable reached my ears suddenly, when I was returning to my chambers, after talking to our treasurer, commonly known as "Sunbeam",. This man had a captivating ability to present good information in the worst possible light, which made every meeting with him require a huge effort of will, not to give up and not believe that we were on the brink of bankruptcy. That's why, mentally exhausted after spending an hour in his company, I didn't understand right away what I heard. Only after a moment I realised that it was Guinevere shouting at someone. Guinevere... shouting at someone? I quickened my pace. I could count on my fingers the situations in which she raised her voice. In recent months, she had been behaving quite unexpectedly, which was hard to be surprised, because her stay in the Dark Tower and Elyan's death left a mark on her that could only fade under the influence of care and time. But she never shouted like that.

One of the guards standing by the door looked at me with terror, the other stared at the floor. I was about to enter and put an end to whatever was going on there, but I stopped halfway through the movement, with my hand over the handle. The amount of venom in Gwen's voice chilled me. Her anger almost seeped through the door.

"Arthur allows you too much!" she shouted. "I don't know why I let this happen, you little disgusting cockroach! You're just a servant, and I'll show you your place!" Something heavy hit the floor. "It's right where you are at this moment! And if you don't understand that, I'll get rid of you! You've been bothering us for too long! I've had enough of you, do you understand!? If you do something I don't like again, I swear I'll break your neck!"

Instinctively, I recoiled as the door swung open forcefully, and Guinevere pushed someone into the corridor with such strength that they fell. That someone turned out to be Merlin. I couldn't believe my eyes. It simply couldn't be happening; it defied all the laws governing the universe.

"One thing. One little thing," she growled and slammed the door. She didn't notice me; she was too absorbed.

For a moment, I stood there paralysed. I couldn't see her face, but what I saw and heard was terrifying enough.

Both guards stared at Merlin, who was trying to get up. Slowly, with effort, as if I were submerged in a starch-filled tub, I approached and offered him my hand. He grabbed it tightly and unsteadily stood up.

"What the bloody hell was that?" I asked. My voice sounded weak. Very weak. Merlin breathed shallowly; his face had completely lost colour, but there was no fear in his eyes, which one would expect. Rather, deep sadness.

"Not here," he said softly once he managed to control his breath.

"Are you alright?"

He shook his head. He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against his split lip.

"Merlin," I said emphatically, observing him closely. Right before my eyes, a bruise appeared on his neck. Shivers ran down my spine. Gwen wouldn't do something like that. Gwen wouldn't say those words. Could she really break someone's neck? She's physically strong. She used to help her father in the forge when she was just a little girl. No, my God, no. I tried to restrain the wild thoughts rushing into the darkest corners, to find some justification, but the image of Merlin being violently thrown out of the door by the sheer force of her anger negated all attempts to deny it. Guinevere wasn't joking. Those weren't empty words; it was a threat she clearly intended to fulfill.

Merlin noticed what I was looking at, reached into his pocket again, took out a blue neckerchief, and tied it around his neck, hiding the bruise.

"Everything's alright, my lord," he said. He quickly glanced at the guards with bulging eyes, then at me. I understood the suggestion.

"Nothing of noteworthy has happened here" I declared, as authoritatively as possible.

"Yes, your highness," replied both men at the same time. Merlin moved his finger very suggestively across his throat.

"You'll lose your heads if any ridiculous rumours start circulating," I added.

"Yes, your highness," they repeated in unison.

I took Merlin by the arm and led him to one of the rarely used chambers. On ordinary days, when we didn't receive guests, no one had a reason to pass through this corridor, so the risk of someone eavesdropping on our conversation was negligible.

"Please... I'm begging you to try to believe me," said Merlin when we entered. "What I'm about to say will be terrible, but..."

"You have my complete trust," I interrupted him. "Speak honestly. If it's a disease of the mind... I want to hear it from you."

He looked into my eyes deeply, almost to the point of endurance. He delicately and confidently reached into my soul like a physician and examined it thoroughly, combing every nook and cranny, even though the darkness born of fear and pain swirled inside like smoke over a funeral pyre. I breathed in the stale air of the chamber a little. The unspoken answer to an unspoken request brought me relief. The darkness didn't disappear, but someone who always carried a flint in their pocket stood by my side.

"Morgana did something to her," said Merlin. "I don't know what, but I'll find out. In any case, she's not herself. You have to remember that."

As I listened to his explanations, I felt as if the foundations of the castle, the foundations of the entire kingdom, had begun to shake under the influence of some powerful spell. I struggled to resist the urge to grab Merlin by the arm and lean on him. Is this it? Is Morgana destroying the heart of Camelot right now? Has Gwen left, and what I saw, what I showered with kisses last night, is just an empty shell that looks like my wife?

"Gwen flew into a rage because I saw her copying a document. Unfortunately, I didn't see what it was. I plan to follow her after dark. I'll try to find out what she wants to tell Morgana," said Merlin with a disturbingly objective tone, like a person who had done such things many times.

"You won't try to find out anything," I replied. "Not alone."

"He opened his mouth as if to say something, but apparently changed his mind and simply nodded his head.

"You have to be very careful," he whispered. "About everything. It would be safest if you... don't share a bed with her for now. But it's better if she doesn't realise that you know something, because..."

"I'm not an idiot, Merlin," I interrupted him, heading for the door. Dinner time was approaching, but the thought of swallowing anything made me feel nauseous. I had to get some fresh air.

And what if Merlin is wrong and there is no magic in this? What if Gwen has chosen to side with Morgana of her own free will? They used to be friends.

I chastised myself for those thoughts, I was ashamed of them in front of myself, but I couldn't get them out of my head. The bubbling under my skull grew louder, like some nasty poison. After all, who once betrayed...

"Arthur," said Merlin, almost in a whisper. I turned around, and his eyes met mine again. This time, there was a gentle admonition in them, as if he knew perfectly well what was going on in my head. And under his tired, sad gaze, the poison receded, and the noisy bubbling subsided.

"You know how much Gwen loves you. The magic that changed her so much must have been powerful. I promise, I'll do everything I can to reverse it."

"You won't do anything without my permission," I replied sternly. "My heart is already broken enough."