Previously In The Exile:
Arthur lifted his hand for the cup and that trembling weakness returned. His hand shook as he took it from the child and the cup had all the weight of his sword after a day spent training. Arthur pushed himself up on one elbow and he trembled throughout his body as the room spun. Fear bubbled up in his stomach. This was worse than the weakness that had come upon him during his quest to the Fisher King.
He sat unmoving, gripping the cup so that its wooden surface dug into his hand. He waited for the dizziness to pass. The trembling lessened and he lifted the cup to his lips with two hands. The water was cool and wonderful in his mouth. Arthur sipped at it faster than he knew he should, but he couldn't stop himself, he felt so parched. The water hit his stomach like a stone. He coughed, his hands began to shake, his limited strength gave out and he fell back against the bed, spilling the water across the linens as the cup went rolling...Chapter XVIII As the Firefiles Danced
He thought of his mother, his beautiful mother standing before him telling him the truth of her death. He remembered the clarity he'd taken from that moment. The truth now was no different than it had been nearly four years ago. His father had not outlawed magic because of its danger; he had outlawed it because of his own hypocrisy, to cover his crimes, to spite his brother even....Chapter XVIII As the Fireflies Danced
The Exile: Part II
-Guinevere called Jenafere-
Chapter XXX: By Fire Do I Test My Gold
Rhosyn Pendragon reached for her husband and sighed when her hand found only the memory of his warmth in their sheets. She shifted to the center of the bed, spreading out to savor it's largess. She may have missed her husband's warmth, but she knew how to appreciate his absence.
He was, most likely, checking the talking paper.
She had known, as she sometimes knew things that they would not have to make war on King Arthur. Known it the moment the late King Uther had fallen ill. She had not however been prepared for his announcement to her yestereve. Just three short weeks in their home and he had decided to lift the ban on magic. But then right was right and wrong was wrong. One did not need to speak with The Others day in and day out to discern it. It was evident that the young king had come to them already questioning his father's choices.
Rhosyn rolled over onto her side and reached for a little pouch that they kept on the bedside table. She popped a clove into her mouth and laid back down, crunching the little nugget between her teeth
"Rhosyn Pendragon."
She turned at the sound of her husband's voice and smiled, stretching her arms over head, when she saw him.
Ambrose stood in the doorway of the little workroom off their sleeping chamber, the early dawn light casting shadows over his bare flesh.
"You have not called me Pendragon in a long time husband."
"No I have not," his words were slow and thoughtful. "You shall be hearing it more, along with Duchess I should imagine."
"Duchess Rhosyn Pendragon," she considered that a moment. "All these long years I have only been mother or mom, queen of our little castle."
"Would you have liked to have been queen?" Ambrose asked as he strode toward their bed.
She laughed, "I think I should find the constraints of queendom stultifying and besides I could not imagine you killing your brother."
The bed sagged under Ambrose's weight as he sat down beside her, his broad form blocking out the rest of the room.
"No," he said voice soft.
She took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. He had so many regrets about Uther.
"Were you checking the talking paper?"
"Yes, all remain blank."
"All?" Rhosyn felt renewed stirrings of concern. Meinwir was a week overdue and now this.
"I only wrote to them last night, but someone should have replied."
"You are right in this."
"Do The Others still say nothing of Meinwir's absence?"
Rhosyn cocked her head to one side asking the question of her guardians.
Meinwir, their most highly placed spy in Camelot, reported to them once a month on the first night of the full moon. While she was on occasion late reporting to them and that was rare, she had never been a week overdue.
Thus far no matter how she had asked The Others gave back nothing regarding Meinwir's silence.
"I grow worried Ambrose. We have had no visitors these last three weeks, Meinwir is now a week overdo, the talking paper remains blank, Morgana is absent, and the King Arthur has arrived near dead on our doorstep."
"It is an ugly picture you paint, but do you see anything?."
"Well The Others are silent, but I am certain Morgana is up to something. It is unfortunate we could never keep a spy on her."
He nodded, the frown on his handsome face deepening.
"But surely you do not need spies or prophecy to know that something has happened?"
"No," he said taking her hand and kissing it. "I suppose I was hoping for a different forecast."
"I'm sorry darling, but I cannot offer you that."
He sighed. "Can they at least tell us if Meinwir is dead or alive, safe or in danger?"
Rhosyn took a moment to formulate this question in her thoughts. The answer came back in a language she did not understand.
After a moment she shook her head.
Ambrose looked annoyed and then disgusted, and Rhosyn sighed inwardly. She did not want to hear her husbands complaints on the fickle nature of prophecy.
"Perhaps we shall go into town and seek news that way. We need supplies after all."
He looked for a moment as if he might complain, but then he nodded.
"Very well, do you think we should tell the children before we go, about Arthur, about myself?"
"The sooner it is done, the better." She sighed, her children liked their cousin. "They shall not know what to think of him at first."
"No."
In that moment it came to her. An image of herself and Arthur in her workroom heads bent over her scrying mirror. Familiar with these moments of suggestion Rhosyn concentrated. The Others were at last speaking to her, she wanted to hear what they had to say.
The vision changed and she saw her nephew hunched, straining, weighted down, a chain strapped around his chest, each step forward a struggle, as he towed a boulder painted with a question mark.
She smiled, this was an easy one. Some worry, some unanswered question rode upon Arthur's shoulders. The Others believed she could answer that question, ease that worry.
She felt waves of satisfaction from them then. Did she have time to sit him down for this scrying session before they went into Caer?
"Rhosyn, do The Others finally speak?"
Ambrose brought her back to the present.
"What do they say," he asked expression hopeful.
"Nothing of Meinwir."
"What then?"
"Our nephew," she sat up. "It seems he has earned a boon."
"Arthur?"
"Yes, I am to be its deliverer," she smiled pleased at the idea of doing something helpful. "There is a question weighing on him."
"Magic? I wonder if he is ready to partake of such?" Ambrose asked that question to the air more than to her.
Rhosyn frowned she had not considered that.
"Perhaps I shan't."
NO! The Others, shouted it loud and clear.
"They truly desire that I offer this seeing to him."
"Are you?"
"I'm not certain that I want a part in testing him and that's what this would be!" Rhosyn shouted the last. "No matter what guidance I am offered, no matter how freely, I retain my free will. If I want no part in testing my nephew's commitment to this new path that is my right."
She said this for The Others far more so than her husband. When they had ideas, when they spoke to other guardians they could become very persuasive. She didn't want them whispering gentle suggestions in her ear when she wasn't paying attention.
"If he has earned then surely…"
"If he has earned it then someone else shall be charged with it's delivery if I refuse."
"I make no effort to compel you darling," he said taking her hand and kissing the back of it. "Do they still say nothing of Meinwir?"
Rhosyn shook her head.
"Would they tell you if she were in danger?"
"Yes, if the danger were immediate and urgent," Rhosyn nodded.
"Of course if she were dead then she would not be in any danger at all," Ambrose complained.
"I shall try another scrying session," Rhosyn said.
The previous session had revealed nothing regarding the fate of their most highly placed spy in Camelot. This was made all the more worrisome by their lack of visitors these last three weeks. They had allies and friends enough that the lack of news was starting to be troubling.
Merlin, The Others, whispered the name of Arthur's mysterious manservant then.
"There is Merlin to consider as well," Rhosyn said. "We still don't understand his role in all of this."
"No and I mislike his absence at this time."
Merlin had come to their attention a year ago. As Meinwir had moved up in the ranks of palace servants, gathering more information for them the manservant had become more and more visible. All were convinced that he was something more than a servant. What that was they could not say. He was far too secretive and slippery. One thing however was certain, he had access to magic of some sort.
"Is it suspicious do you think?" Rhosyn asked. "Arthur nearly dead and the manservant who goes with him everywhere absent?"
"Perhaps," Ambrose muttered absently. "Would The Others give some warning if he were dangerous to Arthur?"
"They tell what they want to tell. They are concerned about him, though what that concern is I cannot, at this time, say." Rhosyn shook her head.
They both fell silent then and the early morning quiet became a noise of it's own reminding them that all of their children slept.
"Perhaps we should send word to Camelot." Ambrose said a small smile playing about his lips."There is no danger in that now."
"No," she returned that smile, "I told you, you would not have to make war on your nephew."
"So you did," his smile broadened as his eyes dropped to her smooth, bare shoulder.
"You are a good wife Rhosyn," he kissed her palm then and then her wrist. "But if my nephew is the only thing on your mind this morning he may find himself facing my wrath."
Ambrose leaned toward her then, making what he wanted her to think about all too clear.
"Well Ambrose," she said tone prim, "he is king and he did just make a most important decision."
"Woman," Ambrose growled and started tickling her.
They squirmed and wrestled like randy adolescents until she was lying atop him panting and breathless.
She gazed into his eyes a moment before speaking.
"You didn't let me tell you all that I was thinking," Rhosyn wagging one slim finger his bright eyes following her every movement now.
"And what pray tell was that?"
She stroked his graying blonde hair back from his face and ran one delicate hand over his bearded cheek.
"I was thinking that though he does bear a strong resemblance to one who is most dear, to me he lacks the character that only time can give and his countenance reflects inexperience, not wisdom."
"Oh I see." He kissed her fingertips as they settled a moment on his lips.
"Do you, now? Because I far prefer this wise and experienced, green-eyed gentleman to any other."
He kissed her then long and soft and sweet and Rhosyn shifted so that she could feel her husband's morning arousal growing against her thigh. And for a little while King Arthur and Camelot and all the other problems slipped to the back of their minds.
"I feel as if something were wrong," Arthur said as he handed Aikat up into the back of the open cart.
The clear summer sky and the unusual coolness had settled today for a market trip.
When Aikat was situated Arthur climbed up into the cart, settling himself across from her on the woolen blanket that they had spread over fresh, sage rushes. The rushes released a warm earthy smell as they were crushed, a simple pleasure.
"Something is wrong," Ambrose said from his seat on the cart's bench. "We've had no response from any of my contacts, Meinwir is overdue by more than a week now, and," here he paused. so if Ambrose is thinking over what he wants to reveal here it should be that he is thinking of Merlin's absence "The silence is just unusual, we usually have visitors. We've had none these past three weeks."
Ambrose and Aikat were both dressed in plain homespun. As much as Ambrose resembled Uther dressed plainly no one would take him for anything other than a man that bore a striking resemblance to the king, perhaps an unacknowledged bastard.
His faulty memory, the sense that something was wrong pushed at him again.
"This is something else." Arthur said shaking his head. "I feel as if I've forgotten something very important. Aikat," he turned his attention to his cousin now. "You said you found me outside of Morgana's home?"
The girl nodded.
Arthur poked his lips out thinking.
"I don't remember going outside. The last thing I remember is Merlin vanishing."
"Forgetfulness of events just before a grave injury is not uncommon," Ambrose said and Rhosyn strode up just in time to catch his last words.
Like his uncle Rhosyn wore were a plain and dull colored homespun dress, with little adornment, her dark hair hidden under a linen cap.
"What's not uncommon," she asked as her husband helped her unto the wagon's bench?
"Arthur doesn't recall how he came to be outside before Aikat found him."
"Most likely you staggered out in pain," Rhosyn said settling herself, "that's why you don't remember. The mind shies away from the unpleasant, especially when it is the suffering of the body."
That sounded plausible, but-
"I've forgotten something important," Arthur said growing more certain by the moment.
Rhosyn studied him, a new sense of wariness in her expression.
"And it only started bothering you this very morning?"
He nodded.
"When?"
"When Uncle Ambrose told me he hadn't heard from any of his contacts."
Rhosyn glanced at her husband who shrugged and then she got a far away look in her eyes.
"What's she doing," Arthur asked?
"She is listening," Aikat replied.
"To what?" Arthur said trying to listen for anything out of the ordinary.
"The Others, they tell her important things." Aikat explained.
"Who?"
Rhosyn seemed to focus on the present then, her expression one of disappointment.
"They speak, but I cannot understand it" Rhosyn shook her head. "Perhaps I am not asking the right questions."
"This is my complaint with prophecy," Ambrose said.
"Your only complaint husband?" Rhosyn asked tone dry.
"It is as likely to be helpful as it is unhelpful."
"Do not forget Ambrose that you are married to a prophetess."
"And I love her very much," Ambrose replied and kissed the back of her hand. "Rhosyn you are a fine prophetess and I neither challenge, nor doubt your abilities. But there are many poor and false prophecies that are popular and mislead people into mistakes or complacency."
Rhosyn pulled her hand from her husband's and rolled her eyes.
Arthur got the sense that he was hearing another in a long series of arguments about Seeing and Prophecy.
"Consider the druidic prophecies. The sword in the stone-"
At that moment the cart lurched forward, jarring Ambrose in his seat, and interrupting whatever he had intended to say next.
Arthur looked at Aikat and saw her snickering.
"Mom and dad argue about prophecy and seeing from time to time." There was an amused light in her green eyes. "Dad is particularly contemptuous of the druidic prophecies."
He felt a prick in consciousness and his hand strayed to Guinevere's ring. What were they going to do about the Druids? The hunt and torture of them had been relentless during his father's reign.
"Do you know about the Druidic prophecies," Aikat asked?
Arthur shook his head.
"Of course not," the young woman rolled her eyes. "They talk about the golden age and Albion being united into one kingdom, under one great king."
Arthur snorted. Merlin had said something similar, but insisted that he was said king.
"The king's name is hidden, but it mentions an Emrys who shall guide him," Aikat said.
"What else does it say?'
"I don't remember I never paid it much attention." She met his eyes then. "Prophecy about a future golden age doesn't hold much meaning when you fear armed men breaking into your home and dragging your family away to be burnt at the stake."
Arthur grimaced, "Sorry about that."
Aikat stared at her father's back expression far away
"Do you think he would have burnt dad at the stake?"
Arthur knew she was asking if Uther would have had his own brother killed for sorcery.
"Father could be ruthless," he said. "But he was also a hypocrite. I cannot speak for what he would have done."
"I suppose not," the girl fell silent. "It is impossible to speak for another."
The cart rolled out of the Ring Tree Fort and into the forest. Under the cover of the forest canopy the bright, summer morning submerged into the twilight gloom of the old forest. Sunlight broke through in the occasional patch, but otherwise dimness was all around.
Still the cart passed easily along the naked forest floor, the ancient trees allowing them more than enough clearance as they traveled. The donkeys familiar with the route avoided tree roots and pit and before long they came to the old Roman road that bisected Camelot from east to west.
Once on the road the animals picked up speed and the forest cover lessened. Arthur turned his face up toward the emerging sun and closed his eyes savoring its soothing warmth. His fingers found Guinevere ring, and he pulled it forth as was his habit to toy with the little circle of metal and remember the joy of her hand in his.
"I don't accept your apology."
Aikat's words broke into his reverie, a chill splash.
"What?"
"I don't forgive you. I have lived all of my life in this forest, friends of mine have been burnt at the stake, and always the fear that my family would be killed has been with me." Aikat counted the affronts on her fingers. "It's too many wrongs, for forgiveness to be brought for the price of a simple sorry."
She held his eyes, chin raised.
Arthur sighed, "What can I do to make it up to you?"
"I want to be a knight," she said.
"That is really up to your mother and father."
"That's as may be, but its how you can make it up to me. Train me as a knight of Camelot."
Aikat would make a good knight.
"You'd be the only female."
"That's fine and you could always add more women."
He considered that, thinking of saying no, wondering how much resistance he might get from the other knights. But then he thought of Morgana, she was as capable with a sword as he. What if she had been a knight? What if she had had the camaraderie and acceptance of the knights?
"If your parents will allow it you shall be trained as one of us."
"Good." She started to smile then and Arthur couldn't resist smiling back.
"I won't go easy on you just because you're my cousin"
"I won't go easy on you just cause you're old."
Arthur chuckled. "Thank you so very much for your kindness and consideration."
"You're welcome," she smiled pertly looking altogether too pleased with herself.
The cart rolled on, it's motion steady and lulling. Arthur found his mind drifting to a time when he' been too young to sit on horseback for long. In those days he might ride beside his father for a while, but then he'd in sit in the cart with Efan snuggled close while she told him stories and listened to his childish woes. Arthur closed his eyes and let his mind drift with the security of those memories, recalling tales told in the past to the present.
It was the sudden stilling of the cart that woke from a dream in which he played a game of cards with his mother, Efan, and Guinevere as they rode in a cart on their way to- He did not know where.
Arthur shook his head and let the dream fade. They were still on the road only fields of grass and trees on either side and the occasional farm house.
"Why've we stopped," Arthur asked, shifting position to relieve muscles grown stiff from sitting.
"Mom wants to pick up a couple we passed back there." The girl pointed toward the horizon with her thumb and Arthur looked back to see the small figures of two people in the distance.
-"Ambrose, that woman was with child and these people might have news," Rhosyn said.
Had his mind had drifted so completely?
"That's as may be, but sitting side-by-side with the king they may well recognize him."
"Let them ride with us, if they like," Arthur said.
Ambrose looked at him askance and Arthur sighed.
"Most likely they will see the four of us and think that I am your son from your first marriage. Aunt Rhosyn doesn't look old enough to be my mother. Besides," Arthur shrugged, "perhaps it is time my people know where I am."
Ambrose stared now, but Rhosyn pressed her lips together holding back obvious mirth.
"They've nearly drawn even with us," Aikat reported.
"They're riding with us," Arthur said, he needed news of his people.
The pair drew near and Arthur could see now that they were hurrying. Both were dark-haired and fair-skinned, their clothing plain. The man carried a large pack on his back and the woman a bundle.
"Thank you," the young woman said when she was in speaking distance.
Arthur cocked his head to the side studying them more closely. Though both dressed much the same as the common people of Camelot, the young woman's perfect Welsh was spoken with strange accent.
"I am Dresden, this," the young man draped an arm over his wife's shoulders, "is my dear Esylt. We are very grateful."
"I am Aikat, this Arthur, and these are my parents Ambrose and Rhosyn."
"Thank you all very much."
If either of the pair recognized him they gave no indication of it.
They handed their bundles up. When Aikat took the woman's Arthur realized he should probably help her. He took the man's larger pack and settled it in the front of the cart. With their things in place the pair came next.
Arthur and Aikat handed Esylt up first. She was not hugely pregnant, but the babe was surely an added and inconvenient weight for scrambling into the back of a cart. The young man followed when she was settled; hoisting himself up with an athleticism that earned a snort of annoyance from his wife. Dresden and Esylt settled themselves, sitting side-by-side, leaving Aikat and Arthur to do the same.
"We're ready," Aikat said and the cart rolled forward again.
"The two of you are on your way to Caer market?" Aikat asked.
"Yes," Esylt smiled and rested a hand on Dresden's arm. "My husband is an apothecary."
"My dad knows something of medicine," Aikat put in.
"Then I suppose we won't be able to sell any to you," Dresden smiled as he said it and Aikat laughed.
"Esylt," Rhosyn leaned toward them from the box. "How far along are you?"
Arthur repressed a sigh of boredom, not particularly concerned Esylt pregnancy or Dresden's occupation.
"I am just about six months." The young rubbed her belly and gasped. "She knows we are talking about her."
Six months now since he'd banished Guinevere.
"We didn't expect it really, but she got pregnant right away," Dresden beamed with pride and a pink flush tinged Esylt's cheeks.
"Right away," Aikat asked?
"We got married just about six months ago."
"Well congratulations," Arthur said without any suggestion of joy.
The pair did not seem to notice. Esylt had whispered something in husband's ear and he was gazing at her in complete and utter adoration.
Arthur snorted and told himself he was not jealous of a pair of peasants.
"It was on the king's own wedding day actually," Dresden explained with a deferential shrug. "We'd had the handfasting of course, but hadn't yet married. When the news came that King Arthur was marrying we decided that we would do so on the same day," Dresden shook his head. "It was days later when we learned of Guinevere's treachery.
"I suppose it turned out better for us than him," Esylt said and Dresden kissed her on the forehead.
Arthur stared at the pair of them hands clenched into fist, lips working though he made not a sound. How was it that they picked up the two most happily wedded individuals in all of Camelot?
He wanted to pitch the happy couple out of the back of cart. He didn't see Aikat and Rhosyn shooting him worried glances.
"So you're an apothecary, you don't work with a physician or hospice?"Aikat asked.
"Not right now," Dresden said with a dismissive shake of his head. "We had no idea what the Harlot had until a week later."
"Guinevere was no Harlot!" Arthur declared. Aikat and Rhosyn's restraining hands on him the only things keeping him from acting on his earlier impulse.
"She betrayed the king and all of Camelot in the most intimate way possible. She was such a degenerate woman that she was with one of his knights on the eve of their marriage. Referring to her as a harlot is an insult to prostitutes who do an honest business."
Arthur heard the familiar rushing sound in his ears, felt the swelling anger inside of him, the mist of heated blood swam before his eyes- But he could not get angry. Ambrose had made that clear, rage, anger were part of the stress that triggered the elf-stroke.
"Dresden," chastisement was clear in Esylt's tone and she stared at her husband in disbelief.
Arthur ducked his head, found Guinevere's ring where it lay upon his breast. They did not know, he told himself. They only speak so, because they do not know.
"She is dead, it is not right to speak ill of the dead. These people may have been some kin to her." Disapproval was plain in her tone.
Arthur forced his breath to slow. He could do nothing if he was lamed by elf-stroke. One could not live at the mercy of another's words.
"I apologize, forgive the harshness of my husband's words." She spoke to him directly closing one hand around his forearm. More of his anger faded.
"It is clear to me that you cared for her very much," Esylt sighed."I can only imagine the shame this scandal has brought to her kith and kin."
Arthur nodded and lifted his head.
"Thank you."
He wanted to tell Dresden off, he wanted to tell the truth of what happened. But where did he even start? In spite of his words to Ambrose he did not believe that now was the time to reveal himself to his people. Without that authority any defense of Guinevere would carry no weight.
His eyes flicked back to Dresden who was once again absorbed in the attention of his wife and for a moment Arthur hated this man.
"Don't throw him out of the cart," Aikat said leaning in to speak for his ears alone.
Arthur glared down at his cousin.
"He doesn't know who you are and," she paused and he could guess what Aikat would next. "She did betray this kingdom."
Arthur glared down at her and groaned in frustrated disgust. To be fair to them he had not yet told anyone the truth of the situation, but it did not make hearing people speak of Guinevere as if she were a traitor an easy thing to swallow.
"We're nearly there," Esylt said she did not sound pleased.
Something in her tone drew Arthur's attention. Both Dresden and Esylt's expressions had sunk into identical frowns.
"Perhaps we should have walked after all," Dresden said with a sigh.
"You don't want to go to market," Aikat asked? "I love it. All the people and merchants."
The couple stared at her wearing nearly identical expressions of consternation.
"Are you stupid?" Dresden asked. "Is she stupid?" He looked to Arthur expression completely serious.
"What?" The four asked in unison.
"Dresden darling I do not believe that they know." Esylt said her tone incredulous.
"Know what?"
"Three weeks ago Morgana brought a foreign army into Camelot, the king is missing. Her soldiers are everywhere."
Uncertain if they were still going to market they'd taken Dresden and Esylt about a mile from Caer before letting them off to walk the rest of the way. Now they were stopped on the roadside trying to determine their next steps. Perhaps it was luck, but they'd run into no patrols thus far.
"This is why I don't care for prophecy!"
"Don't start Ambrose."
"Why didn't they warn us?"
"There are rules-"
"-Stupid rules-"
"-Do not make this my fault Ambrose, The Others tell what they tell."
"Mom, dad maybe now isn't-"
"Quiet!"
"But mom, dad-"
"-Sshhhh!"
The girl gave her parents a disgusted look, rolled her eyes, and stalked away.
"You said it yourself, they withhold information for their own purposes." Ambrose declared.
"Mayhap, mayhap we are needed here," Rhosyn said. "You do not care for the sensation that we do not have control over everything."
Arthur looked at their shortened shadows. It was drawing nigh unto noon.
"No prophecy is-"
"Ambrose, Rhosyn!" Arthur barked their names using the same tone he would have with disobedient recruits on the training field. "We don't have time for this. This argument is beside the point. We're here. Are going we going into town or are we turning back is what we must decide now?"
They shot each other looks ridden with guilt and embarrassment. Ambrose winked at his wife and she smiled back.
"I think we both agree that it is now imperative that we speak with Yeoman Peter," Rhosyn said.
"Agreed and we still need supplies," Ambrose pointed out.
"And we cannot get this information from anyone else," Arthur challenged?
"I promised you support and allies," Ambrose said. "If we are to deliver on them we must make contact with our network otherwise we risk them siding with Morgana or against the throne altogether. Since our usual methods have failed I think we are left with no other choice."
"Very well then."
"Now Ambrose and I can meet with our contact," Rhosyn said. "The two of you should wait-"
-"No," Arthur said recalling how Morgana had had ordinary citizens of Camelot shot in an effort to compel the allegiance of the knights. "I need to see how my people fare."
Rhosyn looked as if she wanted to argue with him, but something in his expression kept her silent. He turned to his uncle and after a moment the older man simply shrugged. When he looked at Aikat the girl grinned.
"Arthur and I will go together while the two of you meet your contact," she said.
"Now just a moment-"
-"Dad I am not being reckless," Aikat explained. "We need to know how the enemy is armed and from whence they hail the two of us together will see more than one alone while trying to spy and guard his back."
"I would be honored to have Aikat guard my back."
The look Ambrose shot him would have put him in his grave if looks could kill.
"She is right Ambrose. Aikat and Arthur can slip into town and simply listen to gossip and observe. Where did Morgana get soldiers? How are they trained? These are thing we will need to know. And," she took a breath, "under the circumstances none should go alone. If Peter sees us with a stranger he might decide not to speak with us and then Aikat will be alone here."
Arthur could see Ambrose turning Rhosyn's statements over in his mind and finding nothing in them that he could disagree with.
"The both of you be careful," the older man said at last. "So we will split up. Aikat you remember where Yeoman Peter's home is?" Ambrose asked that question.
She nodded.
"That is where we are going. We should meet back here by no later than supper time," Rhosyn said.
Everyone nodded.
"I did not know what we would find when we arrived here and I liked none of the signs. So I brought some charms for protection along." Rhosyn handed them each a little bundle on a leather cord.
"These charms will allow us to keep hidden as long as we don't draw the attention of others. However be wary of the alert they will notice something amiss and so might any magic users."
Arthur nodded thinking he would rely on old fashioned stealth to keep himself safe.
"Thank you aunt," Arthur said.
"You are welcome," she smiled at him.
"I think that Arthur and I should walk, slip into Caer through town and let the two of you take the cart."
"Mhmm yes that is a good plan," Ambrose said.
"Everyone be careful." Rhosyn and Ambrose hugged Aikat and then Ambrose surprised Arthur with a quick hug before the pair climbed back onto the cart's box and started off. When the cart was a dot on the horizon Arthur turned to Aikat. It was time for them to go.
"Aikat you have been here more recently and frequently than I have lead on."
There was a brief moment of startlement on her young face, before a determined look came into her eyes and she started forward with a sure steps.
"This way your majesty."
They went over their plan as they walked. A quick scouting of Caer and it's market,and if they could, they would slip into some shadowy corner of the local tavern and learn what they could from gossip.
Caer like so many other cities and towns had sprung up round one of the old Roman waystations. Over time it had evolved into a castle with its own people and lords. While the lower town and market had no walls the people could and did retreat behind the castle walls for safety. With no walls though Morgana could not truly control who went in and out of Caer.
"So Morgana has raised another army," Aikat said.
"It would seem so."
"I wonder how it was that she was able to do so?"
"I wonder at it myself," Arthur replied. "Assuming she can still claim an inheritance from Gorlois, which I don't imagine that should could, his wealth was not so great that she could raise an army with it."
Aikat considered a moment.
"Well then she must have some very dear and very wealthy friends, or you have some very wealthy enemies, or her wealth is stolen."
"Most likely all three," Arthur said.
"All three?"
"I am certain there are disaffected magic users in Camelot that would ally themselves with her. My father had other enemies, I have other enemies-" Arthur thought of the assassin _'s father sent after him. "She will inevitably appeal to some of them for one reason or another."
Aikat nodded.
"She would have to have stolen or plundered some wealth as well. I cannot imagine that she could raise the entire fund from private coffers."
"So what are you going to do," Aikat asked?
"Learn what we can here, and join my people at Castle Gogwyn or Ogmore. That is the plan we made, but…" Arthur sighed.
"What?"
"Nothing." Arthur shook his head no longer wanting to share his thoughts.
Morgana had attacked them again, he'd only just begun to recover from the elf-stroke, he still did not know what had become of Guinevere, and now there was an army in Camelot.
The melancholy that seemed to be always circling him since Morgana's first betrayal crept upon him now.
"It is exciting, is it not?"
"What?" Arthur looked askance at his cousin.
"Morgana is a cruel and vicious tyrant, I know what she did in Camelot, but" the girl shook her head."I am ready to see battle, I've trained, I've fought bandits." She looked at him now and he saw all the fire of youth in her eyes.
"I am ready to be tested against an army."
And for just a moment Arthur recalled what innocence was like. To be young and eager for battle, to have only known victory, and righteous combat. Experience clamored to remind of everything else that could be and for once Arthur ignored it. He gave his cousin a smile, her shoulder a friendly squeeze, and let himself be invigorated by youthful exuberance.
"You will be great Aikat."
"Do you truly believe that?"
"I've trained with you. You're good."
She grinned with the delight of a child and Arthur let it infect him.
He hadn't known what to expect, but Caer looked much as it had when the King's Progress had brought them here four years ago. You could hear the ring of the smithy, smell the bakeshop, the weaver and tailor were open, as was the candler.
The people went about the business of living just as they always had-
-No that was not true.
Soldiers moved through the streets in patrols of three and four. Wherever they went crowds parted and made way for people of Caer stopped what they were doing and ducked their heads as they passed, the soldiers harassed some and let others be. This also meant that they could not study them without perhaps drawing the soldiers eyes.
"It does not seem as if there were a battle here," Aikat kept her voice low.
"It does not," Arthur said. "Lord Caer was not known for being the most courageous or stalwart, I imagine he may have surrendered."
"Surrender!" Aikat wrinkled up her face in disgust.
"We do not know the circumstances."
The girl snorted and Arthur scanned the street.
"There are not enough people here, we are too visible. Let us make our way to the market."
Under his father's reign Caer had been prosperous and busy, a warm liveliness in the air. Whatever criticisms Arthur may have leveled at his father- and that number was growing- he had brought fifteen years of prosperity and stability to Camelot.
Could he do the same?
Uther had controlled Camelot with a mixture of fear and promise. According to Merlin it was fear that had turned Morgana against them.
Now it sat heavy and thick in the market air, a pungent flavor amidst other familiar scents like herbs, cologne, wood smoke, heated bodies, and stale beer.
Where before there had been cheerful conversation, leisurely strolls past stalls, energetic merchants crying out the value of their wares, and cheerful bargaining there was now only quick furtive steps, ducked heads, a low murmur of soft conversation punctuated by the occasional curse at an inflated price or the sudden unavailability of goods.
When the soldiers passed through the market grew quiet, unnaturally still as everyone merchant, and shopper alike tried to disappear into the background.
With the crowd of the market for cover Arthur and Aikat were able to stand and watch the soldiers study the design and decoration of their armor to identify Welsh, Gaults,Francs and even Saxons. It was an army of mercenaries, hired from whence she could find them. How was Morgana paying them?
One of the members of the patrol they'd been following suddenly straightened, a new alertness in every line of his posture. Arthur pushed them back into a space between two tents and turned showing the back of his head to the crowd and positioning himself between them and Aikat.
"What?" Aikat said.
"I think one of the soldiers may have spotted us and if they haven't I do not want them too."
"Right," she said and then very slowly she stretched up on toe-tip to peek over his shoulder. "They're still there, but not looking this way."
"Good. Let us wait a bit."
"Well we have to meet my parents in about an hour, standing here a few minutes shouldn't be a problem."
"No."
"Do you think we've gathered enough information?"
"Perhaps," Arthur said. "We know what level of skill and ability that we're dealing with, but if we knew more, more of what's been happening." Arthur shook his head.
"We have not yet gone to the tavern," Aikat reminded him.
Arthur considered that. With the charms Rhosyn had given them they could hide with ease in a crowded tavern and simply eavesdrop on the conversations of others. At worse they would learn nothing useful.
"See if the patrol is still there."
Again she peaked over his shoulder.
"Nope they've gone," Aikat said smiling.
"Good let us go," Arthur turned and started forward before motioning to Aikat to lead on.
"They serve a delicious fish stew," Aikat said. "Perhaps we can get something to eat while we eavesdrop."
Arthur suppressed a grimace, he was tired of peasant food.
Navigating the crowds was no easy feat. Rhosyn's protections worked against them. Rendering them invisible to the crowd until people were on top of them or had walked into them. Jostled and annoyed they reached the tavern tent just in time to see a shouting match spill into the street.
"Cheat! Thief!"
"There's no cheating in this tavern!" A burly woman shouted and Arthur presumed her to be the tavern owner.
"Liar! You watered your beer!" A serious accusation.
The woman's face turned red and she walloped the man accusing her of cheating.
The rest of the crowd started to laugh their fear of Morgana's soldiers forgotten for just a moment.
"We need to go." Arthur said as cheers and hoots joined the laughter.
"But I want to get something to eat."
"Come on Aikat!" Arthur grabbed his cousin's arm and started her away from the growing crowd.
The steady murmur of the crowd erupted into a cacophony of angry shouts as the man lunged at the barkeep and Arthur moved faster pushing against the crowd while trying to keep ahold of Aikat. The pent up anger would turn a brawl into a riot.
Concerned about getting separated Arthur kept an eye on his cousin, and that was how he missed them in the crowd, three of Morgana's men.
In less than a breath they surrounded him, shoved something dark over his head, and then the most peculiar thing happened.
An exhausting drowsiness overtook him and Arthur knew no more. In the plain view of hundreds of people the king of Camelot was made to disappear and no one noticed.
Wow no notes this week. Would have had this out this weekend, but I spent it shopping for a car. Its a used car, but the first I've ever owned. :D excited!
hope you guise enjoyed it and please as always leave me some feedback.