Chapter 42 [Plaza Outside of Citadel—A Twelfth of an Hourglass Turn Earlier]
Rodor strode out onto the Citadel's top stair. His eyes took in Funeral's forming scene. Well wishers and courtiers had assembled on the cobblestones below. Brazier burned beside waiting pyre. Rodrigo held Nemeth's knights at attention. Rodor, Morgana, Arthur and Gwen flanked Rodor. Gaius waited with Wyngate and Blumenwald. Kilgarrah meditated off to the side. You should see this, my Friend. Perhaps there were naysayers. Today, a grateful kingdom remembers you. Your son will make us all proud. He turned to find Galahad instructing Balinor's honor guard. Ywain, Lancelot, Britomart, and Josiane flanked the deceased Dragon Lord's body just inside the door.
Still, no Merlin or Mithian….
"Merlin late? Why does that not surprise me?" Arthur hissed low. "He is keeping Princess Mithian back as well. What are they doing?"
"Arthur, please." Gwen shook her head. Scolding sharpened her tone. Protocol demanded manners of some kind. Instinct and Habit, however, kicked them into horseplay. Diplomacy demanded sanity.
"They are coming." Morgana stifled a cough with her hand. "It seems someone had advice for them downstairs." A smile broke across her features. Her eyes twinkled at Accolon.
"Advice?" Rodor arched an eyebrow. "Who would be downstairs now? Now I am glad Malodius followed them." Concern crept across his mind. Worry occupied him. Ambush and potential abduction remained on his mind. Yet, Morgana had said that was not the case.
Mithian led Merlin into view. They squirted by the Honor Guard and to the waiting royals' side. "Sire, pardon us. We had a special guest." She added the royal nod.
"Special guest? Where is this person?" Rodor looked back into the citadel. He saw nobody else of note. Then, he noticed Merlin lingering by Balinor's body. "Sir Merlin?"
"Father's ghost showed up." Merlin patted his father's covered body. "He wanted to thank you for everything." He rubbed the back of his neck. "He also wanted to support me."
"Merlin, I think that should confirm what we have been telling you?" Lancelot interjected. His eyebrow raised at his friend.
"I would say the same, Lancelot," Josiane chimed in.
"You know what I say, my Prince!" Britomart interjected. "Milady? I know you have your say!"
Mithian shot her former maid an expectant look. "I think you know me too well, Dame Britomart." Warm chuckle escaped her lips. "Our Prince has already heard my two pence on the matter."
Merlin blushed. He bowed his head. "And I appreciate it." He sucked in a deep breath. "I had to get my armor too. It needed a few touches." He raised Mithian's hand. "Milady." Lips brushed Gratitude's whispers across awaiting knuckles.
"Pardon us, Father. Merlin restored Balinor's armor to honor him. Sir Balinor wished to watch him do it. Given the day's significance, I thought…." Mithian allowed her reply to trail off. Her eyes brushed across Balinor's shroud and body underneath.
"Aye. Such reverence is appropriate. Tradition and respect should be applied in equal amounts." Rodor narrowed his eyes at Arthur. May you understand that there is more to kingship than just ruling for one group or against another. "Especially since this is Sir Balinor's day of triumph on many fronts, Daughter. Come. Stand beside me. Sir Merlin, you as well."
"Aye, Sire." Merlin bowed to Rodor. His eyes met Arthur's albeit briefly. Loyalties blurred and juxtaposed for a heartbeat. Then, he hustled over toward Rodor and Mithian. Sorry. Still getting used to this.
It will take time, my Prince. You are doing well…rough edges and all. Mithian's eyes caught Sol's light. Warmth reflected therein. Father wishes to begin.
Merlin sucked in a deep breath. His eyes turned toward Rodor.
Rodor raised his hands. "Good morning, Everyone! Thank you all for coming! Today we honor a dear friend of Nemeth! Sir Balinor was a brave knight and warrior. He cared for everyone. His sacrifices are a big reason we have our kingdom! As knight, he fought and defended us. As Dragon Lord, he befriended man, magical creatures, and sorcerers alike. As friend, he put others' needs above his own. He fled and hid to keep threats from our borders! For too many years, we did not know of his deeds. Those of you, however, who have been to the Hall of Heroes downstairs do know of the Battle of Etranberg. I can tell you that there were many more battles than that. I owe my life on a few occasions to him. Malodius, King Bors of Gaul, Kilgarrah the Great Dragon, Sir Ywain and Sir Galahad also remember, I am sure. Last night, he returned to us. He passed away. At least, he met his son. He knows of our love. We can preserve and learn from his example." His eyes glanced toward Merlin. Briefest of nod acknowledged his presence. Then, he turned back to the crowd. "Today, we send Sir Balinor to his rest! May he know peace on the Veil's other side. Honor guard!"
Galahad raised his sword. "FORWARD!" He marched before the guard's progress. He bowed to Rodor, Mithian and Merlin. Then, he pressed on down the stairs. His boots clacked against stone and cobblestone. He wheeled about. His eyes never left the body or guard bearing it down the stairs. Reverence held him at attention. Patience kept him there until the others reached his position. Pace resumed. Martial lockstep guided them to waiting pyre. There, they slid the body onto it. Then, they all stepped back.
Rodor turned to Merlin. "Sir Merlin, I leave it to you. As you wear your father's armor, you honor his memory. As you assume his place, it is for you to see him off." He motioned toward the stairs.
"Thank you, Sire." Merlin bowed to Rodor. His eyes met Mithian's again. Then, he started toward the stairs. Effort slogged each footfall. Lament weighed on every movement. He beheld everyone's reactions around himself. Friends and bystanders reacted in various ways. Approval, Blasé and Scorn all strummed his sensibilities. Still, he pressed on. He stopped by the brazier's fire. He looked to Lancelot, Britomart, Galahad and Josiane in turn. "I am ready, Sir Galahad."
"As am I, Sir Merlin." Galahad lit a torch. "Perhaps you might wish to say a few words?" He managed a slight bow for his Soon-to-be Prince.
Merlin nodded. "Father, I wish Mother and I could have known you longer. I have so many questions. One thing I look forward to learning more about you. Mother will come here as you intended. I will take care of these people. As you did, I will serve them. Now, I can use my magic openly at least. Kilgarrah and I can restart the old traditions. So, aye, I bid you farewell. I remember the bards in Camelot speaking of the Phoenix. As that bird rose from its flames, so shall you continue on in our memory and hearts. Thank you for your sacrifices. We appreciate them." He bowed his head.
Lancelot nodded. Approval warmed his heart and glance toward his friend. "Well spoken." He bowed toward Merlin.
"I concur, Lancelot. Well spoken indeed." Galahad nodded. "If I may, Sir Merlin, your words strike a common chord within me. I dare say with many of us who served with Sir Balinor would agree with us. You are that very Phoenix of which you spoke." He regarded Merlin's armor. "Seeing you like this, I feel as if I am looking at a younger version of him. That has to be his armor from the Hall. Your magic perhaps? In any event, your words…your magic…your manner…that is what I am referring to. Aye. You honor Sir Balinor. You honor us. Thank you." He extended the torch. "That, Sir Merlin, is for you."
"Thank you, Sir Galahad." Merlin accepted the offered torch. "So, Father, can be at peace. So, renewal can begin." He held the torch up. "So, we can all co-exist, benefit from and love each other!" He touched the torch to the pyre's wood and then the covered corpse. He set it in the wood. Then, he stepped back to watch the flames catch against wood and straw. Smoke rose. Flame ignited. Fire burned away at the pyre.
Thank you, Merlin. That was very insightful, Kilgarrah expressed.
For us all, Kilgarrah. I love you, Father. Merlin sucked in a deep breath.
Phoenix had passed…Long live the Phoenix…