Chapter 11 Step Gently, Oh Ye Ministers of Magic
A tense energy suffused his royal chambers as he sipped from his goblet. Seated in front of the hearth, the taste of the sweet wine was dulled by the councilors' outrage, his dour mood, and the discussion yet to come. Arthur stared at the fire flickering unsteady light rather than warmth, fragmented shadows dancing around the somber room.
Gwen sat unnaturally still beside him, her eyes downcast, fingertips tapping nervously on the armrest. A heavy silence filled the chambers, punctuated occasionally by exhales from Elyan or Merlin seated at the long table with Fredrick and Geoffrey. Gaius, arms tucked behind his back and fingers laced, stared through a paned window nearby, his lips pressed in a deep frown. They waited under a shroud of gloom for Percival, Ranulf, and Gwaine to arrive.
His gaze slid to George preparing goblets for the men with smooth and confident efficiency. The silver jug clinked jarringly against the metal goblets to Arthur, the pouring of the liquid into them just as unnerving in the quiet. George glided across the short distance to the long table and placed filled goblets in front of the men and four empty seats before returning to the serving table.
Merlin sighed again and Arthur squeezed his goblet tighter, turning his knuckles white. He glanced at Gwen just as she looked at him, her lips thinning. Releasing a silent breath, he bit back anxiety slowly creeping across his skull.
"The council meeting was a disaster," he quietly admitted to Gwen.
"You handled it well, Arthur," she replied softly.
"I disagree. Lord Badawi took control of my court and exposed a level of hostility that should not have escalated as far as it had. I should have stopped him sooner."
He ground his teeth. He'd truly wanted to see what would unfold during the meeting, and to his dismay, the councilors had become feral, proving that some weren't ready for his reforms. He hoped his final call for compassion would sway doubting hearts.
"We'll endure," Gwen assured him. "No one expects this to be easy." She looked away and so did he, his lips twitching into a pout. Merlin had said those same words to him not too long ago.
He sipped his wine, his sight returning to George. His new servant had proven loyal, but Arthur could not fully confide in him as he had Merlin – he didn't know if that day would ever come. For now, they could trust no one outside his inner circle.
"George," Arthur said. "Bring more wine and food for everyone, please."
"Right away, sire." George tilted his head and swept out of the chambers, closing the doors behind him.
"Arthur –" Merlin began tightly, his blue eyes blazing with an intensity that Arthur had seen many times before. He raised a palm, ignored the weightiness Merlin had placed on his name.
"Let us wait for Percival, Gwaine, and Ranulf," he said. "We must all be present."
Merlin's lips stretched, but he acquiesced with a reluctant nod.
Gwen shifted in her chair, turning to bring Gaius into her vision. "How are you, Gaius?"
The old physician glanced over at them, eyes hollow and frown deep. "I'm fine, Gwen." He looked away again, his assurance not convincing Arthur. By the look on Gwen's face, she hadn't believed him either.
Arthur said, "Badawi's attack on your character was not anticipated nor was it fair."
This time Gaius took careful steps to turn around and face him and Gwen. His chin was lifted, but sadness and guilt clouded old, greying eyes.
"It isn't as though I had not thought the same of myself. I … did unthinkable things in the early days of the purge. Sometimes, I need to be reminded of that."
Merlin's chair scraped the floor as he suddenly rose to his feet. "You also did great things."
He approached Gaius and gently squeezed the man's shoulder. "You stayed behind, protected those that you could from within. Don't let that be overshadowed." He guided Gaius to the table, aiding him to an empty chair next to Elyan. "Badawi had no right to judge you nor anyone else."
A rap sounded at the doors, and just like old habits, Merlin rushed to answer it. Percival entered followed by Gwaine, who sat at the first vacant seat at the table. He picked up the goblet waiting for him and drank as the first knight approached him and Gwen.
Percival dipped his head. "The castle is secure, sire. Ranulf is on the way."
"Thank you, Percival."
His first knight lingered, conflict in his eyes before retreating to the table to sit at the opposite end – the chair where Arthur usually sat. He didn't reach for the goblet of wine set for him, but instead, and just like everyone else, glanced toward them expectantly.
Another knock on the door and Sir Ranulf strode into the chambers when Merlin opened it. "Apologies for my tardiness, Your Majesties," he said with a bow before taking the seat at Percival's left.
Arthur nodded then and took a deep, centering breath as the room settled. Pressing his palms together while in thought, he reluctantly invited opinions. "Let's start with you, Merlin. Speak your mind."
The men's voices punctured the silence with unchecked emotions so suddenly that Arthur's jaw dropped.
"Badawi was particularly nasty," Merlin said, starting to pace back and forth.
"He was well-armed." Gaius didn't bother to look their way.
Percival shook his head. "I thought surely at any moment there would be violence."
"I've never witnessed anything like that," said Fredrick, lightly tapping his fingers against the stem of his goblet.
"Pass the wine," Gwaine said to Fredrick, who handed him a pitcher with a roll of his eyes.
Geoffrey's thick brows rose. "Change is never easy."
"His rhetoric grows more inflammatory by the day," Gwen said. "The people are frightened, confused – some look to him for simple answers."
Arthur set his jaw, placed his goblet on the small table between him and Gwen before standing. Gwen rose, too, and he tried to smile at her, but he couldn't.
Elyan's snort forced his attention back into the fray. "What was the point of it? Allowing the councilors to debate? Allowing Badawi to speak at all, Arthur?"
"He'll sway many to his side," Geoffrey added. "Those that were uncertain are sure to follow him now."
"That man won't be satisfied until chaos erupts," Gwaine said with a mouthful of bread.
"He's a threat." Merlin's voice became ominous, cutting through the inferences. He fixed that same penetrating stare on Arthur – the one that always meant dreadful words would follow. "He challenged your authority, confronted you about casualties."
Spinning on his heels to face the fire, Arthur closed his eyes, Merlin's statement striking a nerve no one else could see.
"I'll not stand by while he incites chaos," Arthur replied, his tone betraying none of the turmoil within. He sensed Gwen hovering nearby, conflict no doubt warring in her eyes before she decided to let him be. He was thankful – her comfort wasn't what he needed in this bleak hour that reminded him of threats to his authority.
"Badawi has influence, allies in all stations," Elyan said with an icy calm.
"What can be done?" Ranulf asked. "Banning him from court only removes our ability to moderate him."
The chamber doors creaked opened before Arthur could respond and George returned with a tray of food and drink, three other servants trailing behind him. They spaced the trays on the table and refilled goblets as Elyan retreated to the other side of the chambers, a hand massaging his neck. Arthur slowly paced in front of the hearth. Merlin paced not far from him.
"Ah, thank you, George," Gwaine said gratefully, quickly grabbing a roasted quail and devouring it as the servant poured fresh wine into his goblet.
"You're dismissed for the evening, George," Arthur said.
The servants set the wine vessels on the table and George waited for them to leave. Giving a brisk bow before exiting last, he closed the doors behind him.
No one touched the food except Gwaine, a sudden belch expelling from his mouth.
"Oh, sorry," he said with an embarrassed grin. "I ate too fast."
Percival lifted a hesitant voice, staring at no one. "We must lessen Badawi's credibility with the people."
"What?" Elyan exclaimed.
"No," Arthur said simultaneously, annoyed with the suggestion.
"You call yourself a Christian?" Elyan spat, his aim still on Percival. Gwaine stopped eating and flicked his eyes between the two.
Percival stood slowly, standing to his mountainous height. "Careful."
"Easy," said Ranulf. "Let us keep this civil, men."
"If Lord Badawi continues unchecked," said Fredrick, "he will spark a civil conflict. We barely survived Morgana's war not one month past."
They began speaking over one another, their voices rising again.
Arthur held up a hand. "Friends, please!"
His plea was drowned out in the opinions that ensued, though Merlin's words that Badawi was a threat echoed through his mind.
"He's charismatic and persuasive," said Gaius. "The people trust him. If we don't act, he'll turn the whole kingdom against magic again."
"He's meeting with grieving families," Gwen said. "Stirring anger and whispers of vengeance."
"Insurrection will ensue," concluded Fredrick. "Sire, we must remove Badawi before this escalates out of control."
"Tristan reported substantial thefts from the treasury," Percival said, his face blanched. "We implicate Badawi as an accomplice."
Again Arthur tried to cut in. "Surely we can find another way!" But the debate raged on.
"You'd ruin an innocent man's reputation to protect your secrets," Elyan hissed.
"Think about the long-term stability of the kingdom, Elyan," said Gwen. "Badawi won't stop. There will be unnecessary deaths on both sides."
"We need to neutralize him," said Merlin.
They continued to argue, Arthur's thoughts grappling for responses – alternatives to the unthinkable options hurled at him. Just like the council meeting, the loss of control churned his stomach. Facing the hearth again, he scrubbed his face, wiping unwanted sweat beaded above his lip.
"We spread rumors," suggested Geoffrey. "Enough doubt could minimize his influence."
"I don't disagree," Ranulf said. "But surely there's a less underhanded way to remove him."
"I don't relish dirty tactics either," added Gwaine, spooning meat stew into a bowl.
"The future of Albion is at stake," Gaius said. "If Badawi prevails, everything we're working for crumbles."
"Have you no dignity?" asked Elyan, his voice taut and angry eyes darting to everyone.
"We must be realistic, sire," Ranulf said.
"Gentlemen, enough!" Arthur shouted, his jaw-line severe and scowl deep, quiet settling as they stared at him. "I agree with Elyan. We cannot build Albion on this deception. We must be bold for the sake of the future we all desire."
"Then we prepare for a revolt," Percival uttered grimly. His words summoned a foreboding certainty, silencing them all.
Arthur's skin prickled so that had to resume his pacing to calm the anxiety racing through him. Crossing his arms, a hand scrubbed his chin. It was not solely civil unrest within his kingdom, but a rival kingdom from without was likely preparing terms that could lead to war. Camelot could not sustain two conflicts simultaneously if Lot chose now to strike. Arthur bit his lip. His choices had put both paths in motion. Many could perish because of his idealist machinations.
His pacing brought him closer to the long table, Arthur painfully aware that they had not come close to a resolution. Gwen drifted over as well and sank slowly into Merlin's vacant chair. She reached for a plum from the untouched feast and nibbled on it pensively.
"Is there no chance of reasoning with him?" Geoffrey asked. "Perhaps, a private audience with the king and queen could provide a more conducive environment for persuasion?"
Arthur raised his head, considering Geoffrey's question. Was there any chance of influencing Badawi at this point? Would a private audience to appeal to his faith and compassion produce an agreeable accord for both sides?
Surely, he did not believe so. Lord Badawi was beyond appeals to compassion, instead sought only domination of his extreme beliefs. He did not desire unity – only destruction of progress that offend his rigid beliefs. Reason lied buried beyond Arthur's reach.
His steps slowed as he rounded the table, the burden of unintended consequences and hard reality biting into him. As distasteful as ruining a man felt, would it not be the most pragmatic solution? Was the future of Albion not worth some ethical compromise? Was the price for his grand vision not justification for his actions? Arthur pressed his palms on the back of Elyan's empty chair to steady himself. No matter the rationale, such duplicity left a bitter taste.
"Why not use the same defense he uses?" said Gwaine, Arthur once more grasping – hoping – for a reasonable option.
"His god?" asked Merlin.
"From the same book, right?" Gwaine asked. "Those words cut both ways, so I'm told."
"Yes," said Percival, nodding slowly. "He believes that God created everything in the universe. We declare 'All that God created is good, including magic.' Many will understand this message, including Lord Badawi."
"And he may not," Arthur countered. "Lord Badawi's heart has frozen shut to all but his own zealous visions. We cannot allow him more time to spark a civil unrest." He exhaled, went to stand beside to Gwen, hands on hips. "It's been a long day for each of us. For now, please eat. I'll inform you of my decision soon."
"We're not done, sire," Elyan said coldly. "There is another matter?"
Arthur massaged a temple. "Which is?"
"Merlin." Elyan's gaze darted to Merlin before pinning Arthur again.
"What about him?" asked Arthur, his tone level, but endurance dwindling.
"If you hide the truth about him and Emrys, then you're no better than your father."
Arthur's fists curled, the last shreds of his patience unraveled, being likened to Uther striking a nerve. "My father began a war built on evil assumptions and was nothing more than the vengeful act of a frightened, ignorant man to cover his mistake. That's not what we're doing. We're protecting Merlin."
"The longer we conceal his true nature, the more difficult it will be to explain why we did it. Silencing Badawi won't stop others from dissenting when they find out that Merlin is truly Emrys."
Arthur jaw cinched; he struggled to compose himself, though he had no words to defend.
Elyan dug deeper into his conscience. "The risk to our honor and the loss of the people's trust will be as damaging to Camelot as Uther's lies had been."
"If we hold true to each other…"
Elyan rushed him, his face twisted with contempt. "How long can you keep the deception going then, Arthur? Another thirty years?"
All heads turned to them, shock on their faces.
"Take care, brother," Gwen warned, rising from her chair.
Arthur tensed, Elyan's words landing blows against trust and conscience alike. As the room stared mute, possibilities swirled through Arthur's mind – long years perpetuating the ruse, honor corrupted by concealment.
Elyan continued to strike. "It's just another form of deception, Arthur. Your conscience may sit well with that, but you must be aware that you're still building Albion upon a lie, no matter how noble your intentions."
Arthur leaned in, locked gazes with Elyan. "I have no issue with deception when it comes to protecting Merlin. Do we have an understanding, Elyan?"
Elyan backed up, hostility in his eyes. "Yes, sire."
"He's right, Arthur," Merlin said suddenly. "I must reveal Emrys and my magic now."
"We will see," Elyan bit out, arms crossed stone-faced. Little gratitude filled his voice despite the agreement. Arthur's eyes rolled to him, muscles feathering in his jaw.
"Hiding me behind Emrys for an indeterminate amount of time – perhaps years, may not be as wise as we initially believed."
Arthur's shoulders knotted ever tighter, flashes of devastating outcomes for Merlin flashing through his head – deemed a threat – driven out – wounded or murdered.
"Merlin, we can't," he replied, bone-deep weariness and distress creeping into his voice. "I cannot gamble your safety."
"Every step in the other direction is a gamble for us all, Arthur."
"I said no," Arthur uttered tightly, the words sharp and low. He and Merlin locked gazed. With all he had learned about Merlin, what he had sacrificed over the years, Arthur vowed to protect him – consequences be damned. If that meant concealing the truth forever, then so be it.
Gwen intervened, stepping closer to him and squeezing his arm. "Arthur, we cannot alter what we have yet to set in motion for Lord Badawi. But we can still walk in truth by unveiling Merlin's role as Emrys. It's one less burden to bear."
"I'm grateful you want to protect me," said Merlin. "But the longer my magic stays hidden, the more lies that will entangle us."
"Have faith in him, sire," urged Ranulf mildly. "He's proved himself capable. And he has the might of the knights behind him."
Arthur pivoted sharply, turning his back to them once more. He formed this ministry as a democracy to hear all their voices, yet truly he believed that his authority would always be the final word. Considering their sound arguments, and one less dent in their armor, what other choice did he have?
"If I were to agree," he said slowly, still not facing them, "what do you have in mind?"
"We proceed as planned with the harvest, acknowledging Emrys with the honor. At the pointed time, I'll stand before the council as Emrys—"
"I'm sure that will go as well as today's council meeting," Gwaine said, swirling the wine in his goblet, a grin on his face.
"There will be more dissension – more debate," said Fredrick.
"I won't make that mistake again," Arthur said with a cutting edge. "Once my decree is sealed announcing Emrys as the new court wizard, there will be no further debate."
Merlin straightened with a nod. "When you introduce me, I'll transform into my younger self right before their eyes, and then we … we just let the rest play out."
Arthur closed his eyes, rubbed his brow. "'Just let the rest play out?'" His voice was calm, though desperation coursed through him. Was he ready for such an unknown outcome? He glanced at Gwen – her expression mixed with the same emotions that roiled inside him. She shook her head, bit into her lip.
"That would be the best course of action, sire," Percival said, nodding, relief in his eyes.
"Are we in accordance, then?" Geoffrey asked before Arthur could protest any further. He threw his arms up, his face taut with exasperation, his lips in a hard pout.
A somber chorus of "ayes" rose, then followed by silence.
They waited for Arthur's response, his expression conveying pure displeasure. He searched each of their faces, united yet sober, his authority now tested by the democracy of his ministers. He scrubbed his chin. Another decision pulled from his royal hands even as he was set to agree with them.
"Aye," he said after another moment, stomach knotting. He gripped Gwen's hand. Was he to continuously lose control in guiding Camelot's future?
"I must go," Elyan grumbled, massaging his neck again. "I'm on dragon duty to replenish Morgana's supplies with Galahad tonight and deliver it to the lake." He cast a reproachful gaze upon them, eyes full of disapproval before he stiffly spun on his heels.
"Another unsavory duty," he muttered, leaving them in awkward silence.
Arthur watched him go, his expression a shadow of concern over Elyan's discord.
"I'm still hungry," Gwaine declared after a moment. He pointed to the tarts set before Fredrick. "Are you going to eat those?"
Arthur led Gwen back to their private chairs in front of the hearth as the heaviness lifted from the men and lighter conversations rose between them.
"I'm worried about Elyan," Gwen said, seating herself, her gown rustling as she settled.
"As am I." Arthur sat, elbows on knees, chin resting on his knuckles. "He has reasons to feel the way he does. I only hope that he forgives us when all of this is said and done."
"Truly, it is better this way, being open and honest – at least about Merlin," Gwen said, compassion in her eyes. "You've given both Elyan and Merlin a small victory tonight."
He nodded. "But Lord Badawi will lose."
Arthur's plan to conceal Merlin's identity indefinitely had fallen apart. Badawi had been in his sights, but he hadn't planned for these threads to unravel and his authority be challenged in front of many, nor had he expected his ministers' drastic alternatives, a blight that would certainly stain their armor ... his armor.
Arthur exhaled. This was his burden as king – to make the hard choices when required, no matter the personal cost. He must ease his people's fears and maintain calm, else Lot could seize advantage of Camelot's instability and tear his kingdom down. With great reluctance but clear resolve, he accepted what had to be done regarding Badawi and Merlin – though he wondered uneasily what consequences these new strands would wrought.