Chapter 7 [Camp—Tintagel/Nemeth Border]

[A/N: And now, we see Uther's scheming at work (or rather, going awry). LOL!]

Sol descended toward Horizon's west edge. Raw and Damp breeze picked up from Eastern Sea. Overcast promised Downpour coming that evening. Campfires burned around the site. Cooking scents filled noses and tempted palates. Orange clad knights patrolled the perimeter.

Necessity demanded sustenance, rest, and meditation. Diplomacy required clear heads after all….

A tall muscular man took a draught from his gilt goblet. Blonde locks brushed against his shoulders' chain mail. His eyes swept across the encampment. Two knights sparred off to the side. He watched the aforementioned security at woods' edge. He leaned back against a tree. Life's balance had remained elusive. Education proved enjoyable. Military achievements came easily on battlefield and in tournaments. Diplomatic connections developed only with time…and then only overseas. Strife required balance between Father's followers and Gorlois' supporters. Domineering neighbors dictated care in his conduct. Old Religion's path offered alternatives. So much to learn. Experience pulled layer after layer away before his eyes.

Chaos and instability had followed Ruthbert of Tintagel everywhere. Battlefield glory and strongarm tactics witnessed his rise from lowly servant. Ambush served him well. His sword stabbed many backs. "Accidents" littered Melees. Service to both Gorlois and Uther positioned him well. Gorlois' death helped him to the throne. Shared philosophy linked him to Uther and Tintagel to Camelot. Ambition pushed Tintagel's borders ever outward at Neighbors' expense. Attempts to marry his son off to other kingdoms' princesses melted away faster than Ice before Spring's warmth. Arguments ensued between him and the younger man.

Consternation darkened the man's face. Happiness had come in bits and starts for him. Desire fulfilled itself in service and assistance not in gains for himself. Friendship bound him to Mithian and Rodor despite Engagement's failed negotiations. Picnics, hunts, and observation in Nemeth's council chamber revealed her depth to him. Clearly so. They deserve better! The fools think Mithian a Tom Boy! If only they knew the truth underneath. Memoria recalled well the other royals' shunning her. Lady Morgana knew better at least.

Lady Morgana….

Wistful smile gentled his expression. Amor twinkled in his eyes. His heart skipped a beat and then another. Sigh escaped his lips. Cupid had ensnared them both within Childhood's encounters. Cordial visits elicited feelings. Ruthbert's trusted ladies at court oversaw their picnics, horseback rides and polite talk. Morgana's forthright manner and earnestness in spite of Uther drew him akin to Moth and that Flame. Close call against Emperor Doun's forces cut through games and agenda. The triple goddess offered him the way to Heart's Desire. Peace and Healing would be the prices.

Prices he'd willingly pay….

Morgana and Mithian both want better for everyone around us. His eyes brushed over Parchment in his hands. In one regard at least, Ruthbert had served him well. His father's and Uther's shared bargain opened the door to Heart's Desire at last.

Cailleach drew him through her Veil soon after.

The goddess works in her own ways. Consideration regarded Tintagel's crown resting on his head. Morgana and I can heal the kingdom's internal strife. Then, perhaps Prince Arthur and I can work together to heal matters. Uther believes that he's still dealing with my father. He believes I will simply fall in with his policies. Let him. I honored Father and Tradition both. Both sides approve of this proposal. The hardliners can go away. We'll give magical beings and sorcerers sanctuary. That will thrill Uther to no end, I'm sure. His fist stifled Wry Cough's stamp on said assessment.

Alliances however secured support for that endeavor. Tolerance, it seemed, had its own adherents. Bors, Annis and the Amazons' Queen tired of Uther's Purge. Not that Conversion suited their interests, mind you. Co-existence, however, did meet common agendas.

Pity Uther's denial and lust for power blinds him. His eyes followed the road's winding way toward the north. Six more hours to Whitgate. I wish we were there tonight. I'd get us there if I know how the knights would react.

Tact is a wise course, Accolon. Thank you for your consideration.

Accolon stiffened. Lady? He looked about the campsite for her presence.

I am in my realm. You know I can speak to you from anywhere. Mists allowed the triple goddess to watch him. I must speak with you. The others will not know you are gone. Come to me now.

His head bobbed up and down. His hands twitched. Canary flashed through his eyes. Mists enveloped him. Then, he vanished.

Summons must be heeded after all….