Dear Merlin of Ealdor,
Assistant to Camelot's Court Physician,
and Manservant to King Arthur Pendragon:
First and foremost, I of course must inquire after your health, as well as the health of those in Camelot. I hope all of you have allowed for much-needed rest and relaxation, as a time must always come for recovery following the extended stay of a foreign noble. Your hospitality was well-received and we hope your health maintains.
Though little time has passed since our departure, I felt compelled to write this note, as it is intended to impart but a little of the gratitude felt by our envoy.
To wit, I find myself honor bound and duly sworn to extend the sincere thanks and well-wishes of my various companions, attendants, and staff, for aiding your charming King Arthur and your honorable Queen Guinevere in making Nemeth's stay in your court one so replete with comforts and warmth.
I have already offered such warm sentiment to your monarchs upon parting, but it appears that you specifically must accept our gratitude as well. Upon our departure, our serving staff reported to me the great help you were to them during our tenure in Camelot's shining citadel.
As a result, they have asked that I pass along their sentiments to you. I will do so to the best of my ability. Please forgive the perfunctory report, but you made a widespread and deep impression upon my retinue, and I only have so much ink and parchment available.
Darla thanks you again for showing her to the laundress so many times, and promises that if you were ever to visit us in Nemeth, she will return the favor.
Henry wants to remind you to please feed his duckling in his absence, and thanks you again for helping him to save it from both starvation and that oncoming wagon (is this true? If so, I commend you both for your quick thinking). He also asks you whether it is a proper duck now, or still a baby.
Octavia wants to thank you for praising her son for saving the duckling, and doubly so for convincing him to leave it in Camelot.
Sybil says she already misses your stories around the hearth. She wonders if you could enclose in a reply a transcript of the story you told about the unicorn in the labyrinth (which I would also appreciate, if it isn't too much to ask of you, busy as I now know you are).
Roderick asked if you could remind him of the trick for re-shoeing a horse. He was not more specific, and his girl Greta, asks me to apologize on his behalf. She also asked if you could share your recipe for the toasted walnuts you gifted her with a few weeks ago.
Sir Fred begs for your "special herbs," which he has now clarified for this poor scribe refers to "whatever that man put in his Camping Stew." He clarifies, again, that this refers to the stew you would make while out on hunts.
Lord Rian Tellendel wishes to know what to do if faced with a dragon. I must admit, this scribe is interested in your answer herself.
There are many more still who send you their well wishes, thanks, and fondest farewells.
And thus, Merlin, I find myself upon reflection and in closing of this letter in quite the same position of others in my retinue. Though I was born into statecraft and diplomacy myself, I must thank you for so expertly taking me through my paces in both regards.
Your arrangement for Queen Guinevere and I to dine privately may not have been received pleasantly by others in my position, but I must thank you wholeheartedly for your efforts to bring us together. I found quite quickly following that supper and private conversation enjoying the pleasant company of your formidable queen from then on, as well as a number of your more recently elevated and intellectually gifted courtiers.
It seems it was also your work to keep King Arthur from indulging in some understandable awkwardness by deftly navigating treacherous waters on his behalf during our initial reacquaintance.
And then again, it was also you and the castle steward who arranged for such comfortable rooms at the castle. And, if reports are to be believed, almost exclusively your queen and yourself who saw to every last one of my retinue's creature, emotional, and intellectual comforts including my own.
But you did not only look after my retinue. I myself was the grateful recipient of your hospitality and care, for which I must pass along my heartfelt thanks. In particular, I thank you again for the headache draught you provided me. It helped the pain wane considerably. You are indeed following in the footsteps of a great physician, and it shows in your skilled herbalism and impeccable, professional manner.
Our own physician neglected to collect the recipe from you prior to our departure. Would you be so kind as to enclose it with your reply so that he may learn and I may once more find relief from these headaches? My physician, myself, and my pounding head will be in your debt.
My sincerest thanks for your pleasant interference and, when King Arthur so wished it, your pleasant company.
Sincerely,
Princess Mithian of Nemeth
(Postscript: I forgot to thank you as well for your delivery of the honey-cakes on my Name Day. The memory of their sweetness lingers in my memory even now. -Mithian)
Dear Princess Mithian of Nemeth,
Heir to the Throne of Nemeth,
and Duchess of Helngard:
Thank you for thinking of me and the friendships I made during Your Excellency's stay here. I must admit, I was surprised and humbled to receive a missive from the Princess of Nemeth so soon after her regrettable departure from our fair city. I implore you, then, to imagine my even larger surprise and immense pleasure at the content of your note.
I cannot express how pleased and humbled I feel at having sparked the even the passing thought of such a noble lady as yourself, and my incredible delight at having received such a glowing report.
I carry your letter in my pocket, in fact, so King Arthur may be reminded of my excellence whenever he threatens me with the stocks.
Those of us here in Camelot fare well, my lady, and I hope much the same can be said for your traveling party. Speaking plainly (and know here I express the sentiment of much of Camelot), it was a true pleasure to serve alongside those in your company, and a singular honor to serve such accomplished stateswomen and noble persons as yourself and those with the pleasure of sharing your company.
As for your report, which was so carefully given and beautifully written, I will extend my heartfelt thanks. Though I would dare not ask directly for a princess to spend her valuable time playing messenger, I implore you to consider some manner of distributing my responses below to their respective recipients. It would gladden my heart to know that my friends who departed toward Nemeth and their home with your cohort could still know that I think of them fondly in their absence.
To Darla - Please don't mention such a small kindness again. I find myself lost in the castle four times a week, and I have lived here several years.
To Henry - I am happy to report that your duckling is well, though not a duck yet. The bards sing ballads of your bravery in saving it from the corner near the bakery and out of the way of that rickety old cart. Your humble servant brought Sir Quackenfell to rouse King Arthur three days in a row. He is fond of ducklings, as you had astutely anticipated–or, at least, more fond of ducklings than he is of his manservant. As it happens, on the fourth day going to wake the king while waddling along behind me, Sir Quackenfell was bumped on his bill by a passing pixie. She was clearly in a rush to be somewhere and did not look where she was going. He sneezed fairy dust everywhere, and has since developed the oddest pair of bright pink feet. I'm looking into it.
Octavia - As I reported to young Henry, the bards here in the city sing ballads to your son's bravery in rescuing that poor duckling from starvation and the handcart. I would take offense to your assertion that I hyperbolized the act if you had not taken pity on a poor man's pleas to keep the duckling here as a castle pet. That act of grace excuses any impugnment of my honor, and it is one I am still thankful for.
Sybil - I miss your genuine reactions to my stories. Everyone here has heard them one too many times to think them funny or engaging any more. The King would have you believe them to be "untrue," and "poppycock," but we both appreciate art more than he does, don't we? Enclosed is a copy of the unicorn story, as well as one I think you'll enjoy regarding a goblin and a pair of unfortunate ears other than my own.
(Princess Mithian - please find enclosed a copy of each story to keep and do with as your own. Though I dare not entertain the idea that you would dither away your time so needlessly on a servant's drivel, I also dare not deny the request of a respectable woman and a noble lady.)
Roderick - enclosed is a reminder in writing for you. Perhaps, after the fifth time, you will get it.
Greta - put the walnuts in a pot with honey. Roast until almost blackened and gooey. Poking it with a stick or spoon, depending on what you have at hand, usually helps pass the time while you wait. Sprinkle some salt on top when it's done.
Sir Fred - rosemary, thyme, and salt. Enclosed are illustrations for you. Woe be to the man who flavors his soup with incorrectly identified herbs. But the real trick is in roasting the rabbit before putting it in the stew.
Lord Rian - What should you do if faced with a dragon? Run.
Please send my own well-wishes and fond farewells to all those and all the others who have the pleasure in sharing in your company on the long road home to Nemeth.
And now, Princess Mithian, I must turn to the latter part of your correspondence. You truly flatter me with such pleasant allegations, but I must plead innocent to most, if not all, of your points.
It was truly a scheduling mishap that prevented King Arthur from joining your supper with the queen that night. Though it gladdens my heart to know that the unfortunate incident may have borne from it friendship and a discovery of kindred spirits and allies in our court, it was the result of no nefarious means or machinations.
I am glad the headache draught worked. It was prepared with my best herbs and on my least clumsy day under the watchful eye of your own knowledgeable physician. Please find enclosed the recipe for the potion exactly as I made it. I ardently wish for you to find some relief.
I do thank you for sharing your impression that I may have assisted my king in begging his forgiveness for his past behavior, but I have a slight correction. If I was making overt attempts to smooth over any past wrongs upon our first meeting, it was because of my own past actions and behavior. I never shared my own chagrin at my actions upon first meeting you.
Princess Mithian, you are a formidable intellect and a masterful stateswoman. My boorish behavior toward you upon our first acquaintance was unforgivable. Any following action on my part for attempting to ease your stay in our city was a foolish and negligible attempt to begin repairing that damage I caused. Perhaps, one day, I will earn your forgiveness.
Until then, I shall simply hope for more occasions between our two countries to bring me once more into your pleasant company. Perhaps, with enough events that happen to bring me near your path, I shall truly make headway in my quest to come back into your favor.
My sincerest thanks for your thoughtful letter and, when you so graced me with it, your enjoyable presence.
Your humble servant,
Merlin
(Postscript: I have sent along in the plain wooden box a few more honey-cakes, Princess. It is my hope that they have kept and are just as well received as the first batch.)
Dear Merlin,
Physician's Assistant,
Manservant to the King:
I am cheered and warmed on this long and cold road to Nemeth to know that you and our friends in Camelot fare well. We have much the same to report. However, our trip home has been delayed due to foul weather. I am interested to see whether your reply will make it to me before we depart once more toward Nemeth.
Your replies to this company were happily received and obediently doled out. You have a few responses, transcribed just below, from your cadre of loving admirers and friends among my party.
Henry asks again about his duckling with bright pink feet, and wonders whether it is a duck now. He remarks that he had been certain the king would be fond of ducklings. He requests a transcript of the songs your bards sing about him to be enclosed in your reply.
Octavia thanks you again, and lets you know she will write a song and say it is from you.
Sybil thanks you profusely and wonders if you could enclose another story in your reply. Your faithful scribe and devoted messenger humbly requests one with more mischief like in the tale concerning the goblin, as it was an enjoyable read and a welcome distraction from the weariness of travel.
(Merlin - you were quite right to not dare refuse me in my request. It would have broken my heart to not delight in your tall tales once again. After all, this respectable and noble lady snuck into the servant's quarters more than once to hear your end-of-night tales alongside Sybil.)
Greta sends you love, and has enclosed her own recipe for candied apples in this reply.
Sir Fred thanks you profusely, as do his patrol comrades.
Lord Rian asks that you take his inquiry seriously. He states that if he has hopes of becoming a knight, he may one day face a dragon and should therefore know what to do when it happens.
The rest of the company similarly sends their fondest thoughts and regards to you.
And now I must address the latter portion of your letter. Merlin, it saddens me to hear you so deferent to me and obfuscating yourself so thoroughly as a result.
I tried to think of a reason you may be writing in such a way. It is surely not in deference to my crown, as your own delightful remarks and fond relationship with your monarchs would indicate you hold little merit in title alone. It is not because you are a diplomat of a formal sort. No, I think it is something more. I must believe you to truly not understand the scope of your own work.
If I am the first, then allow me to be the first among many to verbalize my ardent admiration for your hard work and flawless diplomacy. Staff are an integral part to the smooth relations between countries. Though service to the crown is oft an overlooked aspect of statecraft, it is a dear wish of mine that you never feel similarly overlooked. Your contributions to the renegotiations of contracts and agreements between our kingdoms cannot be understated.
I again thank you, and hope at least some of my words get through to you. Be proud for the work you have done. At the most, you have helped ensure positive relations are maintained between our two countries. At the very least, you made my stay at first tolerable, and then pleasurable.
In closing, however, despite my spirited and earnest refutations of your own sentiments, I must end in agreement. I, too, hope for more occasions to arise for Nemeth and Camelot to come together in friendship and celebration.
Please look forward to such times with me in the knowledge that we will come together as friends, with any past relationship or slights washed away and forgotten in the wake of your hospitality and company.
Sincerely,
Princess Mithian
Dear Princess Mithian of Nemeth,
Heir to the Throne of Nemeth,
Duchess of Helngard,
Acclaimed and Renowned Scholar,
and Accomplished Stateswoman:
I send my well-wishes from Camelot, and hope this letter finds you well on your way once more to Nemeth. Travel is arduous and often filled alternately with hardship and boredom. I hope my letters are a pleasant and entertaining distraction, if nothing else.
My sincerest gratitude must be expressed that my friends received my responses and, through you, sent replies. Please be so kind as to see that my replies below are sent out.
Henry - Sir Quackenfell is doing well. He is, indeed, a duck now, with proper and glorious orange feet. He has developed, however, blue and green polka-dotted feathers. I am looking into it. Enclosed is a short burst of song from a local bard, overheard and transcribed by your humble servant in Camelot.
Octavia - Sir Quackenfell and myself send our appreciation for your noble intercedence once more. I am sure you are better able to craft an entertaining song for Henry than I could ever hope.
Sybil - please find enclosed two more stories you may enjoy. One describes when the late King Uther Pendragon was enchanted by a troll (which, I am obliged by my king's command to say, is not at all funny or enjoyable), and the second is a tale for a darker, colder night: the story of the Dorocha and the noble death of Sir Lancelot.
(Princess Mithian - some have called me wise before, in their more inane moments, and it is in times like these that I think they may be on to something, for I would not dream of refusing your request. Enclosed are copies of the same stories for yourself. One is of mischief, the other of danger. I seem to remember a young lady in a green cloak sitting attentively during my tale of the dragon, and it seems she enjoyed the darker ones as well. If you delight me with a response of your own, please be so kind as to let me know which you preferred.)
I send Greta my love, as well as the enclosed recipe for blackberry tarts that I bartered from a wizened crone on the midnight streets of Camelot.
Lord Rian - I am, in fact, taking your inquiry seriously. Because you are a squire and not yet a knight, my advice remains the same: run. You can ask again when you're a knight.
Princess Mithian, I now must pen a response to your words from the second half of your letter.
I know not the proper words to compose. As I sit here at my desk, surrounded by books and texts and now two of your letters, it seems all words have escaped me. All that remains is a singular feeling of gratitude which is impossible to encompass with mere words. I hope that but a portion of my appreciation comes through in my clumsy response here.
Your humble servant,
Merlin
Dear Merlin,
Physician's Assistant,
Manservant to the King:,
I believe we are finally near it. The meadows and woods of Camelot have fallen once more to the gentle hills that herald the mountains and seaside cliffs of my home. And yet, with every step toward Nemeth, my heart grows fonder with my memories of Camelot.
Your devoted scribe and faithful messenger has a few more missives to relay to you. Please see below.
Henry asks if Sir Quackenfell is ill, or if the polka-dots are magical in nature. He wonders if you have found a cure, or if the duck is permanently spotted.
Octavia apologizes for all the questions.
Sybil asks for another story, please.
(Merlin - you should know that your stories are most-often repeated around cooking fires at night. They are a delightful escape from this monotonous travel to all of us. In your reply, which I hope to be swift, please enclose a story more about yourself. If memory serves, the lady in green was most interested in what the servants referred to as your Ealdor Escapades.
That being said, this reader preferred the troll story. If your report is to be believed, the Dorocha were terrible, and I am sorrowful that one of your friends had to pass through the Veil to save Camelot. You showed great bravery, and I am sure it was edited in your usual humble fashion to avoid ascribing any due credit to yourself. Though it was, of course, fascinating to read, I loathe to learn that such misfortune has befallen you.)
Greta sends her love, as well as the enclosed recipe for roasted carrots. She asks what you bartered with the old woman for the blackberry tart recipe, because she reports she would have given her left arm and Roderick's right leg for that recipe.
Sir Fred asks what to do if faced with a dragon.
Lord Rian resolutely denies any involvement in Sir Fred's inquiries.
Merlin, please know that your companionship before and now after my visit to Camelot is held in high esteem. I eagerly await your responses and the brief respite they provide from travel. Though I will be home soon in Nemeth, I sincerely hope you will continue to update me on Camelot's welfare, as well as your King and Queen's, all the knights, and your own.
Sincerely,
Princess Mithian
Dear Princess Mithian of Nemeth,
Heir to the Throne of Nemeth,
Duchess of Helngard,
Acclaimed and Renowned Scholar,
Accomplished Stateswoman,
and Fearsome Archer:
I hope this letter finds you safe and well in your home at long last. Your absence in Camelot is keenly felt as your intellect, wit, and diplomacy are sorely missed.
Please see fit to distribute my responses to your coterie below:
Henry - Sir Quackenfell's feathers are no longer spotted. However, he is now stealing only the first and last pages to any book he sees and arranging them into nests. I am looking into it.
Octavia - I very much enjoy my correspondence with little Henry. If you would be so kind as to provide an address, I will forward my letters to your residence henceforth, so as to stop bothering the kind princess.
Sybil - please find enclosed a story from my boyhood in Ealdor. This one involves a rope, an open flame, and two unfortunately positioned cows.
(Princess Mithian - I am happy to hear that my stories provided some light on dark nights to those in your retinue. I hope you enjoy this memory of mine from my childhood, per your request.
That being said, I thank you for your kind words and your concern. Those events took place long enough ago for the pain and grief to have softened enough to allow me to recount those events with lucidity. I will do my small part in the great human tradition to pass along my noble friend's name as he was: a hero. My own part in that story pales in comparison to the weight of his sacrifice.)
Please send Greta my love and the enclosed recipe for Campfire Stew. Please let her know that I gave the old woman my left shoe, a freckle, and the name of my first pet.
Sir Fred - What do you do when faced with a dragon? Well, since you are a knight, I will tell you honestly and treat your inquiry with the utmost severity: Run.
Princess Mithian, please know that your company before you left and your correspondence now brightens my every day. I hope for a letter from you an hour after sending my own response, and wait with hope that you will delight me again with your reply. Though you will soon be home in Nemeth, and doubtlessly less in need of my errant distraction, I sincerely hope you will continue to update me on your welfare, and that of your king and country.
Your humble servant,
Merlin