CHAPTER 6

King Lot conquers Essetir, an outcome Arthur is worried, but not surprised by. The council discuss his victory in their newly-repaired chamber.

"We should have done more," one of the Lords declares angrily. "With Lot as King, he will surely set his sights on Camelot next!"

"But neither Lot's army nor his land is so large as ours," Arthur rebuts. "They will not risk an attack."

In private, however, Arthur worries. What if they are right? What if Lot launches an attack now, when Camelot has barely recovered from the last?

"You did the right thing."

Arthur jumps. He had been so wrapped up in thought he hadn't even noticed Merlin enter with his evening meal.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"That mind-reading thing."

Merlin's lips twitch, the servant unsure if Arthur is joking or not. "I can do a lot of things, but mind-reading's not one of them."

"I know that, Merlin. If you could read my mind you would have brought me the sausages I wanted." Arthur takes the dinner regardless, then lapses back into somber reflection.

"He won't attack," Merlin insists. "My mother told me about his men. They're paid brutes. Horrible and cruel, but they'd never stand a chance against the discipline of Camelot's knights. Lot's power hungry, but he's not stupid."

Power hungry. That was how Merlin had described Morgana, when he had first revealed his magic.

"Haven't you ever been tempted by power?"

Merlin doesn't pretend not to understand. "Once. It was during Cornelius Sigan's attack."

He takes what Arthur is quickly coming to think of as 'his' seat at the table, and begins his tale. Arthur interrupts only once, when the Dragon is mentioned.

"The same one you freed?"

"Yes. He helped me defeat Sigan, but in return he made me swear on my mother's life that one day I would free him. I put it off as long as I could." Merlin shudders, no doubt reliving the horror of the Dragon's attack. "I worried that if I released him then he might... he might..."

"Do exactly as he did." Arthur forces a neutral tone, but Merlin still winces as if he had yelled. Arthur doesn't want them to stop talking for another month, so urges, "Go on. What happened once you had the spell you needed?"

"I confronted Sigan and he tried to persuade me to join him."

"Why didn't you?"

"I considered it," Merlin confesses, shamefaced. "I was tired of being underappreciated and Sigan said we could rule Camelot together."

Arthur leans forward and repeats, "So why didn't you?"

Merlin closes his eyes, as though conjuring the words from the depths of his memory. "It's better to be a servant to a good man than rule with an evil one."

Arthur leans back, stunned. He remembers Sigan's attack and all the events surrounding it. He particularly remembers his awkward apology, once it had become evident Merlin had been telling the truth about the nefarious servant Cedric. He gave Merlin his job back and lumbered him immediately with the task of cleaning his armour; a poor thanks for saving all of Camelot.

"You've never once sought any credit?"

Merlin, suddenly self-conscious and unable to meet Arthur's eye, murmurs, "That's not why I do it."

"So why do you do it?"

"Because you're a good man. I believe in the Kingdom you will build."

Now Arthur is the one who can't meet Merlin's eye. He clears his throat awkwardly and asks, "What else haven't you taken credit for?"

Merlin snorts. "Where should I begin? Well, Morgana didn't defeat the skeleton army. She was the one who summoned it."

"What!?" Arthur exclaims, outraged. "You mean you knew she was betraying us? Why didn't you say anything?"

Merlin raises a sardonic eyebrow, in a manner eerily reminiscent of his mentor. "You threw me in a dungeon for speaking out against Cedric, just because he flattered your ego. Morgana was the King's ward. No one would have believed me. The word of a servant means nothing compared to that of a nobleman."

Arthur wants to say something. He wants desperately to disagree, to say You could have trusted me - but he knows it isn't true. He has always disbelieved Merlin, mocked him, teased him. No wonder Merlin never trusted Arthur with his magic.

There is a knock at the door - Sir Leon wishing to discuss an upcoming tournament - and Merlin exits without further comment.

For the next month, Arthur can't stop thinking about what Merlin had said.

The word of a servant means nothing compared to that of a nobleman.

Arthur knows it to be true, has lived with it unquestioned his whole life. Yet now half his knights are from commoner backgrounds and his consort is a servant herself. Then there is Merlin. How many times has he been forced to use magic in secret, all because no one - least of all Arthur - would take him at his word, regardless of how often he was proven right?

I thought you believed in equality.

As spring turns to summer, an idea occurs to Arthur during weapons practice. A way to implement change and perhaps even to improve Guinevere's standing among the serving staff.

"You look like you've just struck gold," Elyan comments when he spots Arthur's blossoming grin. Arthur laughs and cuts their practice early.

The steward, an elderly man who took his position long before Arthur was born, springs to his feet when the Regent King enters his chamber.

"Sire! What a pleasure!"

"I've had an idea." Arthur's voice is raised just enough so that the curious maidservants in the corridor outside will hear everything he says. "And wanted to share it with you immediately."

"Oh, of course. Er... Please, sit."

Arthur completely ignores the invitation. "A close-" He hesitates just long enough for the pause to be noted. "-friend of mine has informed me that servants in the castle may feel undervalued. That they believe their word to be worth less than that of a noble's. Is this true?"

"Well, yes Sire. That is as it has always been."

"No longer!" Arthur exclaims, boosting his voice yet louder. "On my friend's suggestion, I want to make it clear to you and all your staff that in all ensuing matters I will assume that a servant's word holds as much veracity as a noble's."

The Steward's eyes are fit to bulge out of his head. "But Sire I-"

"I will not hear anything else on the matter." Arthur is almost yelling by this point. "Let the staff know what I have said and I will visit within the next few days so we can discuss how best to implement my plan."

Arthur strides from the Steward's chamber, thrilled when the whispers of the maids in the corridor start echoing behind him.

After his chat with the Steward, Arthur witnesses a joyful change in Guinevere. Her countenance lightens, there is a renewed spring in her step, and she starts gossiping with other servants in the corridor as she used to in the days before they were openly courting. Although he had not technically lied to the Steward, Arthur knew exactly how his words would be interpreted by eavesdroppers; everyone assumes that the new approach to servants has come from Guinevere, not Merlin.

Arthur does feel slightly guilty that his servant's input has yet again gone unacknowledged, but he gets the chance to rectify that when Merlin thanks Arthur after a visiting noble is sentenced to imprisonment on the word of a young maid he had abused.

"You don't need to thank me Merlin - it was all your idea."

Merlin turns tomato red, but doesn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

The days grow longer, brighter and hotter. Arthur feels, for the first time in over half a year, that he can relax. The castle is repaired, his knights are at full force, and he has spare time to spend with Guinevere. Even his father is happier, sitting at the window to watch the people outside rather than lying in his bed all day.

Now he isn't quite so busy, Arthur takes the opportunity to keep an eye on Merlin. As much as they have discussed his servant's magic, Arthur has yet to properly witness it. His chance comes during a patrol of the Northern border.

"Bandits!"

It is Leon who shouts the warning, his horse whinnying in fear as a crossbow bolt strikes it's flank. Both steed and rider are sent tumbling to the forest floor, but Arthur has no chance to check Leon is alright before he is thrust into a frantic battle.

It has been a long time since he has engaged in any swordplay outside of weapons training and the familiar feeling is exhilarating. He thrusts and parries with a masked bandit twice his size and has just felled him when he hears footsteps at his back. He turns, raising his sword to defend when-

CRACK.

A hefty branch breaks from the tree above and lands on the attacking bandit, whose axe had been an inch away from sawing Arthur in half. As the man sinks senseless to the ground, Arthur swivels around to see Merlin crouched behind a large tree trunk. His eyes are glowing gold, mouth moving rapidly with words Arthur can't make out at this distance.

Arthur looks on as vines shift to trip up their enemies, more branches fall at convenient moments and one bandit's crossbow bolt drops mid-air before it can strike Percival in the neck. The battle ends almost as fast as it had begun and Merlin slumps against the tree trunk. He turns his head, gold fading from his eyes, and freezes when he sees Arthur.

Leon, thankfully uninjured, is checking that everyone else emerged unscathed. The knights call back one by one that they're fine.

"Sire?"

"Hm?"

"Are you injured?"

"I... No." Arthur can't stop staring at Merlin. "I just..."

"Let me guess." Merlin's mouth is turned up in a self-deprecating smile, but his eyes beg Arthur to say something... act normal... don't betray my secret. "You're shocked how much of a coward I am, hiding behind a tree?"

But Arthur can't find it in him to tease Merlin, not after what he's just witnessed. How many times has Merlin done this? How many lives has his servant saved? Arthur ignores the knights' puzzled glances and mounts his steed.

"Leon, ride with Gwaine. We must return to Camelot with all haste."

Now he knows how much Merlin has done for them all, Arthur doubts he will ever call him a coward again.