Fic: Crisis
CRISIS
“The council is ready for you, Sire,” Merlin said to his king.
“Do you know what this is about, Merlin?” Arthur asked as he finished signing the paperwork before him.
“No, I don’t,” the wizard replied. “The Chief Councilor was asked by five others to set up a meeting with you, but gave no particulars. They simply said it was important.”
“Well, we’ll know soon enough,” Arthur said as he picked up his golden crown and placed it on his head. It was heavy and uncomfortable and he hated wearing it for long periods of time.
The king and his wizard left the office and went into the main hall. The council of thirteen men stood around a long polished wood table, quietly talking with one another as they awaited their sovereign. They all bowed as Arthur entered the room and took his seat at the head of the table.
“Please be seated,” Arthur said, for no one sat in the presence of the king without invitation. “Now, gentlemen, what is this about?”
Chief Councilor Balthazar stood and faced the king. “Sire, Councilors Gideon, Edwyn, Horace, Cynric and Landevale have concerns they wish to bring before you,” he said.
“I will hear them,” Arthur replied.
The five men stood, but it was Gideon who spoke. “Sire, we have a concern for the future stability and safety of the kingdom,” he began. “The royal house of Pendragon has given Albion many years of prosperity, peace, and growth, which we hope to see continue for many more years, however, we fear the line of Pendragon may pass away.”
Arthur shifted in his chair. He was sure he would not like the direction this meeting appeared to be going, but showed only attention to the councilor’s words. Merlin sat forward in his chair, feeling that this was not going to end well.
“My fellow councilors and I have concerns that without a suitable heir to continue the line Albion will suffer greatly from internal and perhaps external strife if the succession is not assured,” Gideon continued, bolstered his king’s apparent interest. “Please understand that we pray daily that the Queen, your wife, will produce a healthy male child, but if that is not to be, we have set forth proposals for your consideration to remedy the current situation.”
Edwyn passed Gideon a rolled document which he opened and began to read. “First, it is proposed that Your Majesty name a younger son of one of your brothers to succeed you to the throne of Camelot if it seems likely that the Queen will not produce a male heir. You might even consider formally adopting him to further enforce your selection.”
Arthur remained silent and the councilor went on. “Second, it is proposed that Your Majesty arrange a betrothal between the Princess Royal, your eldest daughter, and a suitable candidate. The marriage would, of course, take place in a few years when Her Royal Highness has come of age. Her husband or her son would succeed you. Lastly, and we do not offer this lightly, it is proposed that Your Majesty allow the Queen to retire from court so that you may take a new wife in the hopes of begetting a son and heir.”
Merlin gave the man an incredulous stare. He could not believe what he was hearing. Retire the Queen?! He might as well propose they all sprout wings and fly to the moon; the likelihood of it happening being just as great. Merlin turned to look at Arthur and was surprised at his king’s composed demeanor.
Arthur calmly nodded than reached out a hand. “Give me the document and I will consider your proposals in private. We are recessed, gentlemen.”
“There will be a one hour recess,” Balthazar announced as the king rose. The council bowed as Arthur left the hall, trailed by Merlin.
“That went well,” Cynric said to Landevale.
“Well, Arthur is a wise and prudent sovereign,” Landevale replied.
“Just be glad you’re not dealing with his father,” Balthazar interjected.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As Merlin shut the door to the office, Arthur said, “Merlin, you would do me a great service if you would conjure five ceramic cups on the table.”
Curiously, Merlin did as requested. Without warning, Arthur picked up each cup and hurled it against across the room at the stone wall. Outside in the main hall, the council jumped as one at the first crash. The five proposing councilors gave each other worried looks.
“Feel better?” Merlin asked after the fifth cup had been tossed.
“Much,” Arthur replied as he took deep breaths to cool his ire. “Thanks. Now, I won’t go back out there and strangle the idiot. How dare they suggest I put away Gwenhwyfar! I’d sooner cut out my own heart and throw it away! It would be a hell of a lot easier for me to do!”
Merlin remained silent, letting Arthur vent his rage. When Arthur calmed down he would ask Merlin his opinion and advice if need be.
Arthur unrolled the document and read it. “Oh how nice,” he said sarcastically. “Gwen would be allowed to keep most of her dower rights after my death.” The dower was what a widow inherited from her late husband.
“Sire, you knew this was bound to come up,” Merlin finally said. “Some men cannot accept a woman on the throne.”
“I know, Merlin, but I didn’t expect the subject to come up now,” Arthur replied as he removed his crown and set in the table. “I hoped I had a few more years before it did. Merlin, how does the rest of the council feel?”
“Balthazar and Geoffrey with you, Sire. They are for the rightful order of things when it comes to the succession, even if it means having a woman on the throne. They would support her totally. Jacob and Alain will follow Balthazar’s lead. They are new and still not sure of themselves.”
Arthur nodded in agreement. “And the rest?”
“Who’s to say,” Merlin replied. “They have kept their opinions on this matter to themselves as far as I can ascertain.”
“And my knights? If one of my daughters succeeds me, she will need strong military support.”
“Arthur, because they are your knights, they will support whomever you choose to succeed you. Lord Leon would not allow it to be otherwise.”
Again, Arthur nodded in agreement. Then he looked at his wizard and friend. “And you, my friend, how do you stand in this?”
Merlin thought for a moment before replying. “Anyone who thinks that any child of you and Queen Gwenhwyfar could not effectively rule this land is a fool,” he said. “The two of you have given your children the time, patience, love, instruction, and understanding they require, and will continue to do so. Any of them will do you credit and honor as sovereign.”
Merlin’s words warmed Arthur’s heart, and he thought of his daughters. The Princess Royal and first-born, Morgan, was twelve and often followed her father around the castle, already interested in the daily duties her father performed. Gwen had named her after her friend and now high priestess of Isle of the Blessed.
The Princess Igraine was nine, named for Arthur’s mother, and had already announced to her parents that she planned to become a knight of Camelot. Igraine was often found on the practice field with Leon’s boy, Lionel, riding or shooting arrows or beating each other with practice swords. A warrior queen in the making.
The Princess Vivien, six, was named after a friend of the family, and the Princess Gwenhwyvach, two, was named after Gwen’s mother. How will they turn out? Well, it was too early to see their futures.
Arthur had hoped for a son; all men want a son, but he was content with his girls. They were healthy, intelligent, and a handful.
“You know, proposals one and two are sensible when you think about it,” Merlin remarked. He looked over to Arthur to find the king staring at him with raised eyebrows. “If anyone was seriously considering them, which we are not,” he amended.
“So, what advice do you have for me?” Arthur asked him.
“None, Sire. You don’t need any advice in this matter. You will do what you feel and know to be the right thing to do,” Merlin replied.
Arthur smiled. Merlin was right, he knew precisely what to do. “Merlin, call the council to order.” Merlin bowed and went out. Arthur stood at the window amid broken crockery and decided it was time to make known his plans for the succession. When to a cabinet and unlocked it. Inside were various rolled documents, but he took out one in particular. It wasn’t his will, exactly, just his royal decree for the future of the throne of Camelot. He’d written it after his fourth daughter was born. Arthur looked it over, rolled it back up, picked up his crown, and went to face his council.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“The King,” Balthazar announced as the office door opened and Arthur appeared. They all bowed and waited.
“Pray be seated, gentlemen,” Arthur said, but remained standing. “Councilors Gideon, Edwyn, Horace, Cynric and Landevale, I thank you for bringing your concerns for this kingdom and for the succession of our throne to light. Your conscientiousness does you credit.” The five men murmured their thanks and smiled at one another.
“I have studied the proposals presented to me and these are my decisions. First and foremost, the next person who suggests that I should retire my wife in order to marry again, I will personally, with my own hands, take him out into the courtyard, secure him to a post and give him ten lashes for such an insidious idea. Do I make myself clear?”
“Stunningly clear, Sire,” Balthazar said as he eyed the five councilors who looked back nervously.
“Good,” said Arthur. “Then nothing more need be said on that subject. Now, regarding the rest of the document. The other two proposals are reasonable, but misguided. Do you truly believe that any daughter of Queen Gwenhwyfar, any daughter of mine, would not be able to rule this kingdom as justly and as competently as we have done?”
Arthur looked at each man in turn and a few could not meet his eyes.
“For your information, I have already drawn up, what I call, a Proclamation of Succession in which lays out who shall succeed me,” Arthur continued, holding up the document. “Basically, it mandates that the succession be determined by primogenitor. The eldest child of the monarch is the heir to the throne.”
“But, Sire, kings have always ruled this land,” Councilor Horace pointed out.
“That is true,” replied the king. “But it was out of habit, not written law. I had Geoffrey check and there is no such law. I have now written a law of succession, to be followed by those who will come after me. And the law states that the eldest child of the sovereign and consort, regardless of its sex, will be heir apparent to the throne of Camelot and will succeed the sovereign upon his or her death. I will leave this with you gentlemen for discussion and review.” The council bowed as the king and his wizard retired from the hall.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The council discussed, argued, reasoned, and debated the document for two hours. Councilors chose sides, maintained their opinions, switched sides, and tried to add amendments. Chief Councilor Balthazar decided it was time to order lunch. He went to the closed doors of the hall to call the page who waited outside. Lionel, the son of Lord Leon, was on duty and came to attention as Balthazar appeared at the door.
“Master Lionel, please inform the kitchen that we are ready for lunch,” the councilor said. “And tell them not to make it too heavy. I don’t want some of them falling asleep later.”
“At once, sir,” the boy said respectfully and hurried away. Lionel gave the head cook the chief councilor’s order and waited as the food was prepared. Slices of chicken and pork were laid out on a large serving plates with garnishes of pickles, cheeses and fruit. Lionel led the four kitchen boys to the hall. As the boys laid out the plates, Lionel chanced to ask Balthazar what the council was debating.
“We are discussing the fitness of the Princess Royal to govern this kingdom after her father,” he told the lad.
“But she is the king’s eldest child,” Lionel replied.
“True, but she is also a girl,” Balthazar said. He notice that the boy hesitated with a worried look. “Was there something else, Master Lionel?”
“May I take a few minutes to visit the privy, sir?” the eight-year-old replied.
“Of course, my boy, but be sure to come right back and return to your post.”
“Thank you, sir,” the boy said and hurried away.
Lionel did not go to the privy; he went to find his best friend. Princess Igraine was in the armory watching an apprentice making a chainmail coif.
“Igraine, guess what?” he said as he bound into the room.
“What?” she replied.
“You’re never going to be a knight,” he taunted.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because your sister will never be queen,” Lionel answered.”
“Don’t be silly, Lionel,” said Igraine. “Of course Morgan will be queen. And she’ll make me a knight.”
“No she won’t,” Lionel insisted. “The council is meeting about it now. And they don’t want Igraine to be queen.”
“Why not?” the princess asked.
“Because she’s only a girl and they want a boy to be king,” he replied.
With an angry look on her face, Igraine ran to the armory rack, put on her chainmail hauberk over her dress, and grabbed gauntlets and her sword. “Get your sword and come with me,” she told Lionel and stormed out of the armory.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Gentlemen, shall we return to our review of the king’s new law as we finish our lunch?” Balthazar suggested. The thirteen men retook their seats, some carrying small dishes of fruit and other tidbits of the meal.
“Chief Councilor, I still have reservations about this law,” said Cynric. “A queen, though an effective ruler and loved by the people, may not have the total respect of the other kingdoms.”
“Quite so,” agreed Horace. “She may spend her entire reign fending off other kings who may view Albion as ‘easy pickings’ with a queen on the throne.”
“Albion’s army and especially, Albion’s knights would never allow such a thing to happen,” said Leon. “I would not allow it happen.”
“We are totally mindful of the valiant men under your command, Lord Leon,” Gideon replied. “But would they be enough?”
Before Leon could answer him, the doors to the hall were opened and a young girl in armor, followed by a young boy with a sword, entered. The men stood and bowed to the king’s daughter.
“Your Royal Highness, may we be of assistance?” Balthazar asked her.
“What man here utters treason!” she shouted at them. They stared at her in surprise. “I demand to know what man here thinks my sister is unfit to rule this kingdom?!”
“There is no treason here, Your Royal Highness,” Edwyn said soothingly. “It is merely a question of what is best for the kingdom.”
“The Princess Royal is best for this kingdom!” Igraine yelled back. Then she removed a gauntlet and threw it on the table. “And I challenge any man who thinks otherwise."
The councilors merely looked around the table at one another then at the defiant girl with the sword in her hand. Balthazar gave a tiny nod of approval and Geoffrey smiled quietly to himself.
“Well?” Igraine said. “Are any of you man enough to accept my challenge?”
As Princess Morgan was strolling down the main corridor to the front door to go riding, she heard shouting coming from the direction of the main hall and recognized her sister’s voice. She increased her paced arrived at the hall’s door to find her armed sister confronting her father’s council.
“Igraine, what are you doing?” she asked as she entered. The council bowed to the Princess Royal.
“There are those here who speak treason, Morgan. They oppose your right to inherit the throne and I have challenged them to mortal combat.”
“Thank you, Igraine, but I don’t think we need go that far,” Morgan said calmly as she stepped up to her sibling. “Chief Councilor Balthazar, please explain.”
“There is some question as to whether or not a queen on the Camelot throne would benefit the kingdom,” Balthazar answered.
“You think a queen would ruin this kingdom,” said Morgan. “Well, I ask you to look at the kingdom of King Horsa, descendant of Hengist, and tell me how well that country has fared with a king on the throne, with the infighting and suppressions. And then look at the kingdom of Queen Salina, great-great granddaughter of the legendary Boudica, who has had peace and prosperity for many a year.”
“You make a valid point, Your Royal Highness,” said Balthazar.
“And yet some of you think that I’d be a pushover for other ambitious kings,” Igraine surmised.
“That is one of the questions to be answered, Your Royal Highness,” Balthazar replied.
“Who here thinks that?” Morgan said, getting angry. “I demand to see hands.” Councilors Edwyn, Horace, Landevale, Cynric and Gideon slowly held up their hands. “Know this, gentlemen, I am the Princess Royal,” she steamed. “I am my father’s daughter, he who slayed the Afanc, the Cockatrice and the Questing Beast, and sent the Great Dragon packing. I am my mother’s daughter, she who assisted Merlin in freeing his village from bandits years ago. Do you think I am so weak, coming from such stock, that I will be unable to protect this land?” By now, Morgan was in a rage, standing before thirteen important men with her fists clenched and a face like thunder.
“I pity the foreign king who thinks he can usurp the Camelot throne with ease! I will mount such forces against him to make his head swim! Councilors, you forget that not only will he be against me, but he will be against the House of Pendragon! And I’m not just talking about my cousins, I mean my sisters!”
“I will lead your troops!” shouted Igraine.
“And I will be right beside you, Sister,” Morgan added.
“And I will guard your rear!” shouted Lionel. Lord Leon felt a swell of pride inside him at his son’s brave words.
“We will defend this kingdom at the cost of our lives if need be! Can any of you say the same?” Morgan demanded. No one spoke.
With that, Princess Morgan turned and left the hall, Princess Igraine and Lionel following.
“Well, my lords, we have much to discuss,” said Balthazar with a slight grin.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Arthur was in the nursery playing with his two youngest daughters. He had Princess Gwenhwyvach on his shoulder, gentle patting her back while Princess Vivien sat on the floor playing with blocks. Gwenhwyvach let out a surprisingly loud belch.
“Why, you little pig,” he said with a smile. “Excuse yourself.” The tot giggled at her father in response.
Gwenhwyfar’s maid was fastening the bodice of her dress now that she’d finished nursing her youngest. Gwen refused to hire a wet nurse and insisted upon nursing her children herself.
“I’m not surprised at this,” she told her husband. “The question was bound to come up sooner or later.”
“I’d hoped it would have been later,” he replied.
“I wouldn’t worry, Arthur. I’m sure the council will see the wisdom of your law and approve it.”
“Ah, Gwen, always looking on the bright side,” the king smiled. “My positive queen.”
Presently, there was a knock on the nursery door. “Enter,” Gwen said, and a page came in and bowed.
“The council is ready to reconvene, Sire,” the boy said.
“Thank you, Master Lionel,” Arthur replied. “Tell them I’m on my way.”
“Now, we will see,” said Arthur as he gave Gwenhwyvach to her mother.
“Now, we will see,” Gwen repeated.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Please be seated, gentlemen,” Arthur said as he sat at the head of the table. “Have you come to a consensus on the Proclamation of Succession?”
“We have,” Chief Councilor Balthazar replied. “Councilor Gideon.”
Gideon and the other four councilors stood. “Sire, we have been given proof that perhaps our concerns were unnecessary,” he said. “It has been pointed out that a king on the throne is not always a good prospect and that a queen may be more than adequate if she is well trained. And if she comes from good stock. Therefore, we ask Your Majesty to ignore the petition previously presented to you.”
“The petition is hereby thrown out,” Arthur announced. The councilors murmured their thanks, bowed and sat down.
Then Balthazar stood again. “Sire, it is now the Council’s opinion to fully support your Proclamation of Succession in its entirety.”
King Arthur signed the document and affixed his seal, followed by the signatures and seals of each of the thirteen councilors.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Back in the nursery, Gwen waited for Arthur to return with news. When he did show up he had a strange look on his face.
“What happened, Arthur?” she asked as she to Vivien’s dirty hands.
“The Council accepted the proclamation, hook, line, and sinker,” he replied.
“So why do you look so puzzled,” Gwen questioned.
“They said they’d been given proof that their fears were unfounded,” Arthur answered. “I wonder what it was.”
“The council is ready for you, Sire,” Merlin said to his king.
“Do you know what this is about, Merlin?” Arthur asked as he finished signing the paperwork before him.
“No, I don’t,” the wizard replied. “The Chief Councilor was asked by five others to set up a meeting with you, but gave no particulars. They simply said it was important.”
“Well, we’ll know soon enough,” Arthur said as he picked up his golden crown and placed it on his head. It was heavy and uncomfortable and he hated wearing it for long periods of time.
The king and his wizard left the office and went into the main hall. The council of thirteen men stood around a long polished wood table, quietly talking with one another as they awaited their sovereign. They all bowed as Arthur entered the room and took his seat at the head of the table.
“Please be seated,” Arthur said, for no one sat in the presence of the king without invitation. “Now, gentlemen, what is this about?”
Chief Councilor Balthazar stood and faced the king. “Sire, Councilors Gideon, Edwyn, Horace, Cynric and Landevale have concerns they wish to bring before you,” he said.
“I will hear them,” Arthur replied.
The five men stood, but it was Gideon who spoke. “Sire, we have a concern for the future stability and safety of the kingdom,” he began. “The royal house of Pendragon has given Albion many years of prosperity, peace, and growth, which we hope to see continue for many more years, however, we fear the line of Pendragon may pass away.”
Arthur shifted in his chair. He was sure he would not like the direction this meeting appeared to be going, but showed only attention to the councilor’s words. Merlin sat forward in his chair, feeling that this was not going to end well.
“My fellow councilors and I have concerns that without a suitable heir to continue the line Albion will suffer greatly from internal and perhaps external strife if the succession is not assured,” Gideon continued, bolstered his king’s apparent interest. “Please understand that we pray daily that the Queen, your wife, will produce a healthy male child, but if that is not to be, we have set forth proposals for your consideration to remedy the current situation.”
Edwyn passed Gideon a rolled document which he opened and began to read. “First, it is proposed that Your Majesty name a younger son of one of your brothers to succeed you to the throne of Camelot if it seems likely that the Queen will not produce a male heir. You might even consider formally adopting him to further enforce your selection.”
Arthur remained silent and the councilor went on. “Second, it is proposed that Your Majesty arrange a betrothal between the Princess Royal, your eldest daughter, and a suitable candidate. The marriage would, of course, take place in a few years when Her Royal Highness has come of age. Her husband or her son would succeed you. Lastly, and we do not offer this lightly, it is proposed that Your Majesty allow the Queen to retire from court so that you may take a new wife in the hopes of begetting a son and heir.”
Merlin gave the man an incredulous stare. He could not believe what he was hearing. Retire the Queen?! He might as well propose they all sprout wings and fly to the moon; the likelihood of it happening being just as great. Merlin turned to look at Arthur and was surprised at his king’s composed demeanor.
Arthur calmly nodded than reached out a hand. “Give me the document and I will consider your proposals in private. We are recessed, gentlemen.”
“There will be a one hour recess,” Balthazar announced as the king rose. The council bowed as Arthur left the hall, trailed by Merlin.
“That went well,” Cynric said to Landevale.
“Well, Arthur is a wise and prudent sovereign,” Landevale replied.
“Just be glad you’re not dealing with his father,” Balthazar interjected.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As Merlin shut the door to the office, Arthur said, “Merlin, you would do me a great service if you would conjure five ceramic cups on the table.”
Curiously, Merlin did as requested. Without warning, Arthur picked up each cup and hurled it against across the room at the stone wall. Outside in the main hall, the council jumped as one at the first crash. The five proposing councilors gave each other worried looks.
“Feel better?” Merlin asked after the fifth cup had been tossed.
“Much,” Arthur replied as he took deep breaths to cool his ire. “Thanks. Now, I won’t go back out there and strangle the idiot. How dare they suggest I put away Gwenhwyfar! I’d sooner cut out my own heart and throw it away! It would be a hell of a lot easier for me to do!”
Merlin remained silent, letting Arthur vent his rage. When Arthur calmed down he would ask Merlin his opinion and advice if need be.
Arthur unrolled the document and read it. “Oh how nice,” he said sarcastically. “Gwen would be allowed to keep most of her dower rights after my death.” The dower was what a widow inherited from her late husband.
“Sire, you knew this was bound to come up,” Merlin finally said. “Some men cannot accept a woman on the throne.”
“I know, Merlin, but I didn’t expect the subject to come up now,” Arthur replied as he removed his crown and set in the table. “I hoped I had a few more years before it did. Merlin, how does the rest of the council feel?”
“Balthazar and Geoffrey with you, Sire. They are for the rightful order of things when it comes to the succession, even if it means having a woman on the throne. They would support her totally. Jacob and Alain will follow Balthazar’s lead. They are new and still not sure of themselves.”
Arthur nodded in agreement. “And the rest?”
“Who’s to say,” Merlin replied. “They have kept their opinions on this matter to themselves as far as I can ascertain.”
“And my knights? If one of my daughters succeeds me, she will need strong military support.”
“Arthur, because they are your knights, they will support whomever you choose to succeed you. Lord Leon would not allow it to be otherwise.”
Again, Arthur nodded in agreement. Then he looked at his wizard and friend. “And you, my friend, how do you stand in this?”
Merlin thought for a moment before replying. “Anyone who thinks that any child of you and Queen Gwenhwyfar could not effectively rule this land is a fool,” he said. “The two of you have given your children the time, patience, love, instruction, and understanding they require, and will continue to do so. Any of them will do you credit and honor as sovereign.”
Merlin’s words warmed Arthur’s heart, and he thought of his daughters. The Princess Royal and first-born, Morgan, was twelve and often followed her father around the castle, already interested in the daily duties her father performed. Gwen had named her after her friend and now high priestess of Isle of the Blessed.
The Princess Igraine was nine, named for Arthur’s mother, and had already announced to her parents that she planned to become a knight of Camelot. Igraine was often found on the practice field with Leon’s boy, Lionel, riding or shooting arrows or beating each other with practice swords. A warrior queen in the making.
The Princess Vivien, six, was named after a friend of the family, and the Princess Gwenhwyvach, two, was named after Gwen’s mother. How will they turn out? Well, it was too early to see their futures.
Arthur had hoped for a son; all men want a son, but he was content with his girls. They were healthy, intelligent, and a handful.
“You know, proposals one and two are sensible when you think about it,” Merlin remarked. He looked over to Arthur to find the king staring at him with raised eyebrows. “If anyone was seriously considering them, which we are not,” he amended.
“So, what advice do you have for me?” Arthur asked him.
“None, Sire. You don’t need any advice in this matter. You will do what you feel and know to be the right thing to do,” Merlin replied.
Arthur smiled. Merlin was right, he knew precisely what to do. “Merlin, call the council to order.” Merlin bowed and went out. Arthur stood at the window amid broken crockery and decided it was time to make known his plans for the succession. When to a cabinet and unlocked it. Inside were various rolled documents, but he took out one in particular. It wasn’t his will, exactly, just his royal decree for the future of the throne of Camelot. He’d written it after his fourth daughter was born. Arthur looked it over, rolled it back up, picked up his crown, and went to face his council.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“The King,” Balthazar announced as the office door opened and Arthur appeared. They all bowed and waited.
“Pray be seated, gentlemen,” Arthur said, but remained standing. “Councilors Gideon, Edwyn, Horace, Cynric and Landevale, I thank you for bringing your concerns for this kingdom and for the succession of our throne to light. Your conscientiousness does you credit.” The five men murmured their thanks and smiled at one another.
“I have studied the proposals presented to me and these are my decisions. First and foremost, the next person who suggests that I should retire my wife in order to marry again, I will personally, with my own hands, take him out into the courtyard, secure him to a post and give him ten lashes for such an insidious idea. Do I make myself clear?”
“Stunningly clear, Sire,” Balthazar said as he eyed the five councilors who looked back nervously.
“Good,” said Arthur. “Then nothing more need be said on that subject. Now, regarding the rest of the document. The other two proposals are reasonable, but misguided. Do you truly believe that any daughter of Queen Gwenhwyfar, any daughter of mine, would not be able to rule this kingdom as justly and as competently as we have done?”
Arthur looked at each man in turn and a few could not meet his eyes.
“For your information, I have already drawn up, what I call, a Proclamation of Succession in which lays out who shall succeed me,” Arthur continued, holding up the document. “Basically, it mandates that the succession be determined by primogenitor. The eldest child of the monarch is the heir to the throne.”
“But, Sire, kings have always ruled this land,” Councilor Horace pointed out.
“That is true,” replied the king. “But it was out of habit, not written law. I had Geoffrey check and there is no such law. I have now written a law of succession, to be followed by those who will come after me. And the law states that the eldest child of the sovereign and consort, regardless of its sex, will be heir apparent to the throne of Camelot and will succeed the sovereign upon his or her death. I will leave this with you gentlemen for discussion and review.” The council bowed as the king and his wizard retired from the hall.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The council discussed, argued, reasoned, and debated the document for two hours. Councilors chose sides, maintained their opinions, switched sides, and tried to add amendments. Chief Councilor Balthazar decided it was time to order lunch. He went to the closed doors of the hall to call the page who waited outside. Lionel, the son of Lord Leon, was on duty and came to attention as Balthazar appeared at the door.
“Master Lionel, please inform the kitchen that we are ready for lunch,” the councilor said. “And tell them not to make it too heavy. I don’t want some of them falling asleep later.”
“At once, sir,” the boy said respectfully and hurried away. Lionel gave the head cook the chief councilor’s order and waited as the food was prepared. Slices of chicken and pork were laid out on a large serving plates with garnishes of pickles, cheeses and fruit. Lionel led the four kitchen boys to the hall. As the boys laid out the plates, Lionel chanced to ask Balthazar what the council was debating.
“We are discussing the fitness of the Princess Royal to govern this kingdom after her father,” he told the lad.
“But she is the king’s eldest child,” Lionel replied.
“True, but she is also a girl,” Balthazar said. He notice that the boy hesitated with a worried look. “Was there something else, Master Lionel?”
“May I take a few minutes to visit the privy, sir?” the eight-year-old replied.
“Of course, my boy, but be sure to come right back and return to your post.”
“Thank you, sir,” the boy said and hurried away.
Lionel did not go to the privy; he went to find his best friend. Princess Igraine was in the armory watching an apprentice making a chainmail coif.
“Igraine, guess what?” he said as he bound into the room.
“What?” she replied.
“You’re never going to be a knight,” he taunted.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because your sister will never be queen,” Lionel answered.”
“Don’t be silly, Lionel,” said Igraine. “Of course Morgan will be queen. And she’ll make me a knight.”
“No she won’t,” Lionel insisted. “The council is meeting about it now. And they don’t want Igraine to be queen.”
“Why not?” the princess asked.
“Because she’s only a girl and they want a boy to be king,” he replied.
With an angry look on her face, Igraine ran to the armory rack, put on her chainmail hauberk over her dress, and grabbed gauntlets and her sword. “Get your sword and come with me,” she told Lionel and stormed out of the armory.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Gentlemen, shall we return to our review of the king’s new law as we finish our lunch?” Balthazar suggested. The thirteen men retook their seats, some carrying small dishes of fruit and other tidbits of the meal.
“Chief Councilor, I still have reservations about this law,” said Cynric. “A queen, though an effective ruler and loved by the people, may not have the total respect of the other kingdoms.”
“Quite so,” agreed Horace. “She may spend her entire reign fending off other kings who may view Albion as ‘easy pickings’ with a queen on the throne.”
“Albion’s army and especially, Albion’s knights would never allow such a thing to happen,” said Leon. “I would not allow it happen.”
“We are totally mindful of the valiant men under your command, Lord Leon,” Gideon replied. “But would they be enough?”
Before Leon could answer him, the doors to the hall were opened and a young girl in armor, followed by a young boy with a sword, entered. The men stood and bowed to the king’s daughter.
“Your Royal Highness, may we be of assistance?” Balthazar asked her.
“What man here utters treason!” she shouted at them. They stared at her in surprise. “I demand to know what man here thinks my sister is unfit to rule this kingdom?!”
“There is no treason here, Your Royal Highness,” Edwyn said soothingly. “It is merely a question of what is best for the kingdom.”
“The Princess Royal is best for this kingdom!” Igraine yelled back. Then she removed a gauntlet and threw it on the table. “And I challenge any man who thinks otherwise."
The councilors merely looked around the table at one another then at the defiant girl with the sword in her hand. Balthazar gave a tiny nod of approval and Geoffrey smiled quietly to himself.
“Well?” Igraine said. “Are any of you man enough to accept my challenge?”
As Princess Morgan was strolling down the main corridor to the front door to go riding, she heard shouting coming from the direction of the main hall and recognized her sister’s voice. She increased her paced arrived at the hall’s door to find her armed sister confronting her father’s council.
“Igraine, what are you doing?” she asked as she entered. The council bowed to the Princess Royal.
“There are those here who speak treason, Morgan. They oppose your right to inherit the throne and I have challenged them to mortal combat.”
“Thank you, Igraine, but I don’t think we need go that far,” Morgan said calmly as she stepped up to her sibling. “Chief Councilor Balthazar, please explain.”
“There is some question as to whether or not a queen on the Camelot throne would benefit the kingdom,” Balthazar answered.
“You think a queen would ruin this kingdom,” said Morgan. “Well, I ask you to look at the kingdom of King Horsa, descendant of Hengist, and tell me how well that country has fared with a king on the throne, with the infighting and suppressions. And then look at the kingdom of Queen Salina, great-great granddaughter of the legendary Boudica, who has had peace and prosperity for many a year.”
“You make a valid point, Your Royal Highness,” said Balthazar.
“And yet some of you think that I’d be a pushover for other ambitious kings,” Igraine surmised.
“That is one of the questions to be answered, Your Royal Highness,” Balthazar replied.
“Who here thinks that?” Morgan said, getting angry. “I demand to see hands.” Councilors Edwyn, Horace, Landevale, Cynric and Gideon slowly held up their hands. “Know this, gentlemen, I am the Princess Royal,” she steamed. “I am my father’s daughter, he who slayed the Afanc, the Cockatrice and the Questing Beast, and sent the Great Dragon packing. I am my mother’s daughter, she who assisted Merlin in freeing his village from bandits years ago. Do you think I am so weak, coming from such stock, that I will be unable to protect this land?” By now, Morgan was in a rage, standing before thirteen important men with her fists clenched and a face like thunder.
“I pity the foreign king who thinks he can usurp the Camelot throne with ease! I will mount such forces against him to make his head swim! Councilors, you forget that not only will he be against me, but he will be against the House of Pendragon! And I’m not just talking about my cousins, I mean my sisters!”
“I will lead your troops!” shouted Igraine.
“And I will be right beside you, Sister,” Morgan added.
“And I will guard your rear!” shouted Lionel. Lord Leon felt a swell of pride inside him at his son’s brave words.
“We will defend this kingdom at the cost of our lives if need be! Can any of you say the same?” Morgan demanded. No one spoke.
With that, Princess Morgan turned and left the hall, Princess Igraine and Lionel following.
“Well, my lords, we have much to discuss,” said Balthazar with a slight grin.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Arthur was in the nursery playing with his two youngest daughters. He had Princess Gwenhwyvach on his shoulder, gentle patting her back while Princess Vivien sat on the floor playing with blocks. Gwenhwyvach let out a surprisingly loud belch.
“Why, you little pig,” he said with a smile. “Excuse yourself.” The tot giggled at her father in response.
Gwenhwyfar’s maid was fastening the bodice of her dress now that she’d finished nursing her youngest. Gwen refused to hire a wet nurse and insisted upon nursing her children herself.
“I’m not surprised at this,” she told her husband. “The question was bound to come up sooner or later.”
“I’d hoped it would have been later,” he replied.
“I wouldn’t worry, Arthur. I’m sure the council will see the wisdom of your law and approve it.”
“Ah, Gwen, always looking on the bright side,” the king smiled. “My positive queen.”
Presently, there was a knock on the nursery door. “Enter,” Gwen said, and a page came in and bowed.
“The council is ready to reconvene, Sire,” the boy said.
“Thank you, Master Lionel,” Arthur replied. “Tell them I’m on my way.”
“Now, we will see,” said Arthur as he gave Gwenhwyvach to her mother.
“Now, we will see,” Gwen repeated.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Please be seated, gentlemen,” Arthur said as he sat at the head of the table. “Have you come to a consensus on the Proclamation of Succession?”
“We have,” Chief Councilor Balthazar replied. “Councilor Gideon.”
Gideon and the other four councilors stood. “Sire, we have been given proof that perhaps our concerns were unnecessary,” he said. “It has been pointed out that a king on the throne is not always a good prospect and that a queen may be more than adequate if she is well trained. And if she comes from good stock. Therefore, we ask Your Majesty to ignore the petition previously presented to you.”
“The petition is hereby thrown out,” Arthur announced. The councilors murmured their thanks, bowed and sat down.
Then Balthazar stood again. “Sire, it is now the Council’s opinion to fully support your Proclamation of Succession in its entirety.”
King Arthur signed the document and affixed his seal, followed by the signatures and seals of each of the thirteen councilors.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Back in the nursery, Gwen waited for Arthur to return with news. When he did show up he had a strange look on his face.
“What happened, Arthur?” she asked as she to Vivien’s dirty hands.
“The Council accepted the proclamation, hook, line, and sinker,” he replied.
“So why do you look so puzzled,” Gwen questioned.
“They said they’d been given proof that their fears were unfounded,” Arthur answered. “I wonder what it was.”