Golden Days of Yore Part I
Rating: G
Note: This is a bit AU.
Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to BBC/Shine.
Spoilers: all seasons a bit
Note: Written for Talking Dragon’s Secret Dragon for Javabreeze
Golden Days of Yore
__
It was unfair.
The white crystals pitter pattered against the rainbow strolls of stain glass window sets that surrounded the upper hall. With mischievous damp licks they blanched the colorful panes. They tittered teasingly.
The hall was one of his favorite places to go because it afforded such a vast view of all below, a vista stretching out to the darkling forests and forbidden gnarled woods. At present moment though, not even such a dazzling view could give him much reason to smile. Instead he frowned with strangled frustration.
Below where his booted feet stood, he heard suddenly, and felt, a thundering of movement. Bringing boyish hands that had only begun to show fading scars of more mature training, and yet still so far from advanced, to the stone railing, he lowered his head to spot the scene. It was the knights of course, Knights of Camelot. In future days they would be under his command, but for now, as much as they showed him grand respect for who his father was, the men in glimmers of armor and capes of scarlet shroud took their orders from the king and the senior knight, Lord Grendale.
If he descended the long line of smooth steps just this moment they would have no choice but to stop and acknowledge his royal presence. He did nothing though to break their stride, for a few moments just watching with wonder as they kept in perfect line, perfect step and looked nowhere but to the front. He had no doubt that if anything on the sides or behind tried to surprise, they would have swords raised in an instant, for the Knights of Camelot were the noblest military known anywhere, the fiercest, and the most chivalrous.
It was enough of a distraction, watching them treads out the door so proudly, but weather outside of chilling winter, the flakes of falling design of snow, did not seem to want to be ignored. A few even with icicle edge hit the window with more force, turning the boy back to his earlier musing, the boy named Arthur Pendragon.
It was many years away from when he would take command, become Crown Prince. For now he had no such strong title, simply known as Prince of Camelot, and yet that impressed enough. Too bad it couldn’t break rules of passage.
Passage to the surrounds outside Camelot that is.
Having King Uther as your father, you never wanted much, except maybe a once in a while hug to take away the lonely cold of having no mother. His father wasn’t much for such displays though, rarely even in private. His father didn’t care for weak touch, as he probably would call it, so Arthur never yearned for comfort that often. He enjoyed instead the physical objects he was presented with, having revolving servants day and night at his beckon and call. He grinned at having only the best horses to ride, adorned with decorated saddle and bridle.
He was expected of course also to work hard at preliminary defense and battle training to prepare him for the less cautionary kind when he would grow in age, but he didn’t mind. He enjoyed it to the hilt actually, and could barely wait for the day when his swords would not be bluntly edged and he’d be allowed to take up the mace along with the jousting lance.
Truly he had everything he wanted. He nobly believed even at such a tender age that Camelot was the best land anywhere, a kingdom of such good hard working people. He loved it really as much as a boy could love anything. It was just this one thing he was being deprived of.
This one awful huge thing that brought on his burning aggravation that could melt all of that snow out there into one soggy heap.
It all was locked into a conversation he had with his father just the day before, an echo of the one the day before that and so on. He’d wanted this since the first winter storms blanketed the land with pallid shine and he spied the peasant boys venturing out into it with wild abandon during workless hours.
“I don’t understand Father. Why can’t I?”
The king, a man of hair just a touch darker than his arguing son’s shining sand crop, with the broad stature of a ram, shook his head powerfully. It was a strong sign that the boy’s quest would never be fulfilled.
The king perhaps had his intense reasons, some of it brought on his by his unyielding rule and decisions made at a time of great grief.
Camelot was a beautiful land, but outside of it, around hostile borders were many enemy foes. The magical kind and the battle type.
“You know why Arthur. I’ve explained it to you at length.”
The boy fisted his hand behind his back with irritation. Another try and already he was most sure it would end in defeat. Still, he stubbornly would not give it up, a trait inherited most likely from his equally stubborn father.
Yes, true enough, he heard it all. Camelot more than maybe any kingdom was revered and loved. On the flip side Camelot too had a vast tangle of avengers who would gladly see the castle and its king, son included for some, burned down to the ground. Arthur mostly knew why, but was sure there were parts of the story his father hadn’t completely revealed. For those details he would sometimes go to Gaius, the court physician, who was much more consoling than his father, or to one of his most liked older friends, Sir Leon, a young russet haired knight just beginning his senior training, whose father had been a scholar of history, along with having held the honor of one time head knight.
The stories of Camelot’s past went as such. Years ago, clasped into the moment of his birth, his mother’s sad demise, Arthur’s father banned magic from Camelot. Supposedly before, magic had been openly celebrated. Then, for some reason having to do with his mother’s passing, that Arthur still didn’t fully understand, since no one would go into depth of explanation, magic became Camelot’s most vile sin. All of those who practiced it were banished, burned at the stake, or drowned. Arthur had heard a few times before in flashing conversation, that had included boys and girls no older than him, but he couldn’t see it. Had to be rumor, right? His father would never be that cruel.
Anyway, human and creature alike of sorcery were persecuted, totaling the king’s hater list to one that would amount to miles of printed scroll. Attempts even on Arthur’s own life, though few, had been plotted, and stopped before final judgment, public burning.
On top of that just happened to be a small nuisance of warlike skirmishes of late between Camelot and a newly forming kingdom titled Powys. Of course all the battles were over land and such.
None of this at present time really mattered to Arthur, a boy simply desiring escape and-well--fun--except for its hindrance of that.
As the king lectured on the reasons, for the dozenth time, Arthur rolled his eyes behind a covering palm. The story never changed and neither did the outcome.
“Father I know all of that. It’s not much I’m asking. I just want to go a bit past Camelot for a few bell rings. That’s all. You could even take me if it’s the enemies you’re thinking about.”
The father showed no approval, the black leather of his coat that surrounded his broad shoulders obstinate and unrelenting as the man himself was. “I have too much responsibility here Arthur as you well know. Within Camelot there is plenty of what you seek. No one needs to attend to it with you at all.”
And yet it wasn’t like what lay beyond Camelot, the forestry of hills and mountains piled high with snowy greeting. All he would need to do is find one of those toboggans he spotted the servant boys using and a grand time would present itself. He was sure it wouldn’t be too hard. Just, he needed permission to leave the castle’s guard. He needed allowance to the outside--outer outer outside.
“But Father it’s not the same. There are not enough hills in Camelot or--Father it’s all market area and low fields. I want to go to the higher elevations. You can understand that, right?”
The father saw his son’s request as ridiculous. Too many foes put his son in danger, something he could never allow to be ill regarded.
Knowing that so much of his father’s answer had to do with security, Arthur countered with a newly planned idea. “I know that you have too much to do here, that the kingdom needs a strong ruler always, but so what if someone else came with me?” He wasn’t sure if it would be as fun with an older man attending, but he knew it was someone his father had deep respect for, as Arthur too was fond of him. “Like Gaius. Surely he could leave his physician quarters for a bit. You wouldn’t have to…”
He almost said worry, but discounted it. The king never liked his emotion revealed. “Er--There would be no reason for concern if Gaius came with me.”
The king chortled with amused mirth. “Gaius? He would be no matchup in any battle scene Arthur. Sure he’s a fine physician, but he’s not the physical sort. No, now-
Determined, the boy curtly cut through. “Fine, then how about Sir Leon? I know he’s not a full knight yet, but he’s brave and strong. And we get on pretty well. He could go with me. You could order him to it and I’m sure he’d want to go. Come on Father…just let me go. I won’t be alone. I won’t be-
Now, the king, Uther, cut through like lightning’s spark. He didn’t care enough already for having his words interrupted by his juvenile son. “Enough Arthur. We have been through this. I’m not going to allow it so give up your arguments before I thoroughly become angry.”
There was a dark glare to conclude that statement in the king’s piercing blue eyes. Arthur lowered his head, already tasting the bitter defeat against his dry tongue. He wanted to protest one more time, but the king was not done.
“It’s too dangerous and the Knights of Camelot are not here to babysit you, not even the youngest ones not fully formed yet. You’d do best to remember also that one day you will be their leader. You don’t have time to go traipsing into the woods to play in some silly snow. You’re not some tiny youngling anymore Arthur. Just one year away from harder training. Now this discussion is done.”
Without a pat on the shoulder or sympathetic look, the king departed the hall, an echo of the sweeping leather slapping the floor with his absence. Arthur closed his eyes hard, pressing his forehead almost painfully against the stone railing. Years ago his father used to take him into woods like the ones he wanted to enter now, woods that had scared him at first until his father reassured. With each year though the fight against magic seemed to harden his father more, make him more maniacal about his agenda. And made Arthur’s freedom--even lesser.
One day he would lead the knights and then he could leave here whenever he wanted, but that time seemed so far. And the snow didn’t heed his father’s orders, still tittering at the panes.
Ingrained into his bothered brain and unhappy heart.
He was a prince with everything at his feet and yet the one thing he now yearned for-
He was denied.
____
It probably should have ended there, but a day later those drops of crystal white were continuing to be such evil tempters. In all their delight they cascaded down to the earth or whistled playfully around the window panes as Arthur’s black boots stomped up the final steps of the castle’s highest towers. It was another place he liked to visit, especially when his mood was sour.
Grimacing tightly, the boy pushed away a stubborn strand of sand falling hair and looked upon the land that would one day be under his rightful name, with disgust. “It’s not fair. It’s just not fair!”
“What is not fair young sire?”
The voice was a slowly aging one, from a man of plenty familiarity. He was dressed in vivid orange robes and atop his round head was waving hair of blackness, except for where the silver was sprinkling through. The man was older than his father, had counseled him even when he first became king. He was a staple of Camelot, the court physician, and someone Arthur treated mostly with respect for the elder’s wisdom.
That could be a rarity.
To say that Arthur’s servants were revolving was putting it mildly. Few lasted more than a month, some only a week. Arthur could be just a bit bossy and complaining with them about every sort of matter, expecting much and offering no reward, even the vocal kind, in return.
But Gaius was someone Arthur looked up to, and so attempted never to show rudeness toward. “Hello Gaius.”
“Something is troubling you it seems.”
Arthur smiled a touch. There was little you could get past the man. It wasn’t going to solve anything to talk about it, but maybe at least ease his mind some. “It’s just that my father won’t allow me to go to the woods to--never mind.”
It wasn’t helping. Arthur turned away with a complaining sigh.
Soft sliding footsteps came from behind him as Gaius joined where he stood at the tower’s most focal viewpoint, the lay of the land so diversely to all sides and below. “I remember a time you were quite frightened of the woods.”
Arthur let out a low titter of negation. “Eh, that was when I was just six Gaius. I’m three years older now and they don’t bother me at all.” He continued with disgruntled fervor. “There is no reason that all the servant and peasant boys should be able to go there to have fun in the snow and I can’t.”
This brought a mild smile to the court physician’s face, realization dawning. “Ah well now you are Prince of Camelot. There are many things you can have that others cannot my boy. Perhaps it is better to reflect on those matters than what you are not allowed to have.”
Arthur turned to the court physician now, seeing upon the man’s face a kind look of support. It tempered him just a bit. “I know that Gaius. I am entirely grateful for what I do have, but this is just something so small.”
“There is snow in Camelot.”
Arthur shook his head resolutely. “It’s not the same. I’ve even asked my father to take me and he won’t. I asked if you could go with me and he laughed it off.”
Gaius frowned at the final words just a bit. The court physician had never regarded himself a bodyguard though in all honesty. That was saved for the knights. “Arthur, the king is a very busy man. You know that.”
The prince lowered his head. “I know, but it doesn’t help. I don’t get it. Why can’t I just go alone? I would only be gone for the toll of a few bells. It’s not something to make so much of, but my father is treating me like I cannot even defend for myself. Yet he is the one who started me from the time I could walk in defense training. It’s not right! I should be able to go.”
“Well…” Gaius commented quietly, taking notice of the snow’s increase. “Perhaps it is best you not go young sire. There is talk of a possible storm coming up with how the snow has not let up for days, and seems to be descending even more intensely now.”
Facing what Gaius talked about, Arthur scoffed. It wasn’t that much of a difference the way the boy saw it. “I heard those kinds of warnings last week too and nothing came of it. Christmas is nearly upon us and yes I know, in Camelot we don’t celebrate it the way others do.”
Gaius’s silver sprinkled eyebrow lifted. “You mean--compared to the Druids?”
Arthur nodded his head noncommittally. “Sure, I suppose. What are they like anyway? You’re mostly the only one who’s ever talked of them with me.”
Gaius had a look of caution upon his face, for whatever reason, that lasted a full minute, before he responded. “They are peaceful people Arthur, private for…”
“Because they practice magic?”
“No.” Gaius answered quickly before pondering. “I imagine not anymore that is, at least not in Camelot’s surroundings. Perhaps elsewhere in places where it is still allowed. They mean no one harm young sire. For the most part they keep to themselves.”
“That’s not really what I meant Gaius. Anyway, I’ve heard tell that the Druids have a lot more Christmas customs than we do. Fun ones some say.”
“Well, your father and most those of Camelot believe it is a very solemn occasion Arthur.” Gaius remarked soberly.
Arthur shook away the topic though with a boy’s spark of impatience and egotistical focus. “Maybe it is. I don’t know, but he uses it sometimes as an excuse to gift me with new things and this time I don’t want any of that. I just--I just wish to go out there--into the snow. Like the peasant boys do. Sometimes they’re so much freer than I am. Sometimes being prince just--it’s like being trapped in a cage.”
The court physician had lived in Camelot many years, known the boy since he was in the womb of his mother, and was present the day he was born, a happy day of celebration, a day of the most tearful mourning and of screams before the fleeing. Arthur did not know the entirety of the circumstance. The king would have it that the boy never found out. Many friends of the court physician had fled, but he remained with a promise to forsake his magical ability, and so the man most likely understood how the castle could be regarded as heaven’s rapture, and a nail’s piercing the same. The father had gained many that would take his life, his son’s and so-
Arthur was especially tightly protected. So much that it indeed would have to stifle.
Years from now probably that would not hold so well, but as he was just a boy now, the king’s gilded cage remained in place.
It was suffocating, while the snow outside was free.
“Maybe if you talk to him Gaius…”
The suggestion didn’t find completion as the elder man gave him a sad look. “Arthur, you know as well as I do that would not change anything. Your father is adamant that you stay protected. For good reason of course young sire. One day you will be king. And of course, beside that, your father loves you very much.”
“For how often he shows it.” Arthur muttered low under his breath, but turned away, knowing Gaius was right and hating that he was. Nothing would make his father change his mind. “I want to be alone Gaius.”
The boy commanded with a hint of how he would be when matured. Already he was accustomed to issuing lines of dismissal.
The court physician didn’t even blanch, used to the way royals acted. “Of course young sire.” Still he rested his hand upon the boy’s shoulder for a second.
Arthur barely responded, even though it was comforting. “Thank you Gaius.” He could at least be polite
.Gaius smiled at it. Those who remembered her would say the boy had much of his mother inside him, his heart especially.
As the footsteps slid away and he was once again alone, Arthur sighed with disappointment, seeing it again, servant boys down below entering the woods with relish, carrying something large, long, in four of their pairs of hands. One of them was even his most recent attending servant, who was half good at his job he supposed, and ripe for sacking in a few weeks if he didn’t improve enough. Elmer.
“Not fair. My servant boy gets to go. They all do and they’re gallons poorer than I am with not an inch of prestige. If only I were a poor peasant then I’d be a nobody and no one would try to stop me from--
A gleam of inspiration lifted to the boy’s brain. His blue eyes sparked with thought.
“That’s it--a servant boy!”
___
Arthur excited about the idea as he rushed down the tower steps. He took them at such a pace that he reached the bottom courtyard quickly. Deciding to take one of Camelot’s horses out for a short ride to fully develop the plan in his mind, he headed to the stables. Entering through the double pine doors he heard snippets of a conversation commencing outside. Arthur, for no reason other than wanting to hear without being seen, snuck behind a stall, hoping the horse in there didn’t decide to get kick-happy.
“Sir Leon!”
“Yes?
Oh it’s you. Very well you know it’s not exactly Sir Leon yet. I’m not entirely a knight.”
“Just a matter of time. My mother sent me to bring you these with glad tidings for the season, to enjoy between breaks of training.”
“Ah--thank you. Your mother makes the most delicious desserts. Don’t dare tell my mother I said that.”
A bit of soft laughter. “I wouldn’t dare. Your mother says it well enough herself anyways. She’s always so dear to us. We do very much appreciate you letting us stay in your family’s secondary quarters while my Dad sets up his new forge.”
“Ah, well, my father’s father’s father never had much gold or such either. It took us time to reach this noble state you know. What about your brother? He’s getting older. Do you think he will be a forger like your father?”
There was a long pause. It seemed unhappy.
“Well you know he’s a servant for the court of Lyden right now. Unfortunately he’s not as kind a master as your family is. And as for forging--I don’t know. Not sure it would keep my brother that busy. He can be so terribly unfocused!”
Laughter came from Arthur’s friend, Leon. “Yes, well--he’s a free spirit perhaps. Ah--I need to go--knight training of course. I’ll see you later this evening.”
“Yes…”
A long long pause. Arthur wondered at it.
“No need for me to wonder where you would like to take up residence. Camelot’s castle is quite grand.
Is it not?”
The pause lasted even longer this time, making Arthur want to lift his head, but he didn’t want to be caught spying upon his friend’s conversation with this--girl.
Whoever she was.
“Oh Sir Leon, don’t be silly. A simple girl like me living in such a place? Would never happen. Anyway I must go. Your little sister Abigail insisted I share some cider with her.”
It was Leon’s laughter again. “Hah hah. Watch it there. She’ll have you playing d-
Wi---
Arthur had to strain to hear. A wagon was passing near-by, drowning out half the words. He could only make out bits in torn proportions.
“With you….pre-------qu-----o-----p-----------s-----I-----et Gw--.”
Finally it passed, but Arthur had no idea what Leon had been talking about. He could only hear the girl’s passing statement before they parted ways.
“Don’t tease so---oh excuse me.”
“Hah…no need. I really must go now.”
“Enjoy the desserts.”
“Oh you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Good day Sir Leon.”
“Good day to you--oh and thank your Mother!”
“I will!”
The horse in the stall neighed loudly. Arthur jumped at the sound and then shook himself out of it. Oddest conversation. He wondered who the girl was and what Leon had been telling her. He wondered for as long as he noticed the fresh new drifts of snow. His mind back on his plan he quickly found a horse to saddle up.
___
The objective was fully in mind the next day after a fun, albeit confining ride around Camelot. It was now a morning of very rapidly falling snow. Hmmm--could Gaius be right? Was there really a large storm forming?
Ah, no matter. Nothing was going to stop him from having his day. His father was away temporarily, visiting with his good friend Lord Godwyn. He had also remarked at dinner last night how a few evenings hence they would be entertaining a visiting king and princess, but Arthur had barely lifted an ear to it, so focused on this day and what he would have to do. With his father not currently in the vicinity, one roadblock was out of the way at least.
Now he just had to become a servant. Already out of bed, Arthur greeted a stunned Elmer as the shoddy servant boy entered his vast royal red quarters. The elder boy by two years was not used to the prince being up so early into the morning, especially without a wakeup call and no drapes pulled back to let in the sunshine. Wouldn’t matter, for the latter part anyway. Winter had caused most of the sun to fade into the heavy chilling clouds sagging with impatient snow drifts just waiting to be released. They seemed especially weighted down this morning.
Arthur greeted with excited relish and command.
“Ah-there you are. I have a proposition. One you’d be smart not to turn down.”
He spoke similar to how his father cajoled and got his way.
Elmer, a boy of stringing yellow hair that was fairly brighter than Arthur’s sand, frowned. “Er--Prince Arthur? You’re up?”
Dismissively Arthur shook his head. The boy wasn’t the brightest of the lot even if he was older. “Plain to see, yes. You’re a quick one Elmer.” He praised with a wide toothed smile. Better to butter him solid.
Elmer’s mouth opened with shock. Speechless, nothing came out. The prince never gave out compliments.
Arthur rolled his eyes and continued. Time could not be wasted. “Yes, well, I need to ask you a favor. No, not a favor. Like I said before, a firm proposition. With benefits.”
He added that last part with gleam in his blue eyes, all the while sizing up Elmer in his mind. Okay, so their hair was nearly the same color. That was good. Even if Elmer was older, Arthur was less than an inch away. Well enough. Elmer was definitely skinnier, but maybe it just being a tiny bit of height difference would help with that. Just unfortunately, Elmer had really big fat hands that were totally out of proportion with the rest of him. Oh well--nothing could be done about that. Just remind him to keep his hands in his pockets a lot.
Reaching under his made bed, sort of sloppily done since Arthur wasn’t used to the task, but with enough exterior finish, he brought out a wooden chest that just fit into his smaller than Elmer’s hands. Opening it with embellished excitement, had to make it look good, Arthur nearly shoved it under the nose of the other boy to give him a good look. “Lots in here, golden coins, a couple of stone and pewter miniature knight statues that you certainly wouldn’t find at any market, gloves just like mine that I use for fighting practice since I’ve noticed how much you envy them, and of course in the bag some really sweet chocolate all the way from the Isles. What more could you want, right Elmer?”
Smile abundant and reaching, Arthur pushed the chest into Elmer’s stunned handhold. “All for you Elmer. You just have to do one little tiny thing for me in return. Just one!”
Elmer was too busy perusing the contents of the vastly filled chest to notice the gleam of mischief in Arthur’s eyes.
“We need to swap clothes temporarily as you pretend you’re me.”
Okay, now Elmer did look up, eyes as rounded as the gold coins that lined the chest. “Er--what was that? You did not just say I had to be-you--or er-no--you couldn’t have.”
Arthur laughed happily. This was going to be easier than he ever thought. “That’s exactly what I said Elmer. You’re going to be me--and I’m going to be you. Now--time to change!”
The chest slipped out of Elmer’s hands as Elmer fell face forward, Arthur’s suggestion petrifying him, as the dropped chest landed with the loudest clang.
Arthur’s look was bemused. “Okay--maybe not--
THAT easy.”
___
Yech.
Elmer’s clothes were smelly and itchy. He’d just have to make do though. If they got him out of Camelot then that was all that mattered. Sneaking around a column, Arthur flattened himself against the wall as a pair of knights walked by. Sure he was disguised now, but better for them to not spot him too closely. He had advised Elmer the same after the boy finally picked himself up off the floor.
He told him to pretend Prince Arthur was sore of mood for not being able to go to the snow. Shouldn’t be too hard since that was the truth, a few days ago anyway. It would give him enough reason to be sulking around areas where the knights were not abundant. Also in Arthur’s favor, Gaius had many missions to the outer skirts of Camelot this morning, so he would not be in the castle much. Arthur was sure Gaius would spot a decoy Arthur in seconds.
He just hoped Elmer didn’t do anything stupid or crack in some awful way. All he had to do was keep up the charade for a few bell tolls and that chest would be all his. Arthur had milked that one for all it was worth. He let Elmer know plainly, the chest was his-IF--no one found out of Arthur’s escape and their swapping of identities.
“Errrrrr.” Arthur scratched with a wrinkled nose at the loose frayed brown tunic he now had to wear. It slopped over a pair of the ugliest tan trousers Arthur ever saw, knotted with mutton loose strings that if a tailor pulled away would probably result in the pants shredding to nothing. At least he got to keep his boots. He didn’t think they would be too obvious and Elmer didn’t just have grand sized disproportionate hands, but also feet two sizes too big. If Arthur had attempted wearing Elmer’s boots, they would have been falling off his feet the whole while. No--better to just leave them alone, and so they were ones he was well accustomed to and that thankfully didn’t smell putridly.
The knights had passed by.
Arthur descended the steps with tip toe quietness. He made it all the way to the bottom where to his dismay a door suddenly opened. Oh-oh. There was no time to hide. Thinking fast, Arthur fell to his knees to the finely polished floor. Grabbing a filthy rag out of Elmer’s holed pocket, he started rubbing furiously, hoping the pretense was well enough.
“Elmer, eh is that you?”
Oh no. She knew him. Arthur grunted in response, keeping his nose buried to the floor. “Er-yea.”
“Have you already cleaned the master’s quarters?” The master. She was one of the head servants Arthur surmised. He allowed one eye to take a quick secondary look, never peering high enough to spot her face, where she would be able to spot his. The woman was heavyset, a bulk of servant dress with tidied apron. “Er-yea.”
“What are you picking up off the floor?” The woman suddenly bellowed. “Don’t you know Judy already cleaned it well enough?”
Arthur’s eyes squinted closed. This wasn’t working all that well. “Er-forgot.” He tried to mimic Elmer’s bullish voice. It was another difference he had advised Elmer of. Try not to talk. Their voices were too contrary, but if you have to, bring it down an octave.
Obviously his princely attempt wasn’t that good. “Got a frog in your throat there Elmer?”
“Er…”
The woman slapped at her apron with disgust. Arthur could even hear her mutter low under her breath so as Elmer wouldn’t hear, but he heard well enough. “Foolish boy--has a thread loose somewhere. Brain of a cow.”
Arthur couldn’t help snickering as he inwardly agreed completely.
“What are you LAUGHING for?”
Oops. Arthur shook his head furiously, still not lifting it, haphazardly moving the rag around. “Er-nothing.”
He heard an exasperated sigh and then, “Well don’t just sit there on your knees like some guilty boy bowing to the king. Get yourself up and go wash the master’s launderings. Don’t have time for your silliness! Get up I say!”
Arthur was breathing fast, sweating enough to probably smell as bad as Elmer’s stinky clothes. Maybe that’s how they got so smelly. FEAR. If he got up he could be spotted for the lie he was keeping, the secret, but if he didn’t, this boar of a woman might drag him up by the ear before she realized who he really was. Jumping to his feet, Arthur carefully kept his face averted with the rag and started scurrying up the steps that he had just departed, hearing it as he landed on the fifth one…
“What has got into you? Never seen you move so fast! I swear if my eyes weren’t deceiving me I’d say you were Prince Arthur, running at such an elevated pace.”
Arthur nearly tripped on the sixth step, grunting like he hoped Elmer did. “UH-er…”
“That is if you weren’t so clumsy!”
Arthur didn’t dare look back at the seventh step, as much he hated the last comment. If this woman knew who he really was she wouldn’t dare insult him in such way. Of course if she knew, everything would be spoilt. Better keep playing Mr. Obedient Nerf Head.
Finally he heard the heavy tread of departing footsteps.
He fell on the eighth to his rear, hands clasping the edge of the step. “Hard work being a servant boy. At least pretending to be one!” He shook his head with weariness and then leapt to his feet. No way he could stay here a bit longer. Who knew who else would come out of one of those doors? He had to get away from the castle.
Sprinting down the steps he finally made it to the bottom landing. Now-just down the long passage of halls. Ah-easy.
Er-right.
____
Perhaps luck was on his side because Arthur did make it out of the castle with no more tumultuous meetings. As he breathed the first fresh bit of icy air he sighed with relief, before he shivered with burning freezing cold. His peasant clothes were no match for the harsh winter weather. Thank goodness he had his warm boots, but he’d have to find a coat somewhere before his arms and chest froze from frost bite. Crossing his arms tight, he hurried to the stables. He needed a horse. Maybe if he was fortunate, there would be some coat or jacket in there left over from one of the servants. At the moment, with the snow that was falling so steadily already soaking through his shirt, he’d even take a moth holed blanket.
“Eh-boy!”
Oh no. He didn’t get this recognized when he was Prince Arthur. He hoped it wasn’t the same for Elmer. He’d get as far as the front guards before they’d be tearing after him, and if so happened, Elmer could kiss away any chest of gold and such.
“Er-yea?”
“I need a horse. Get one for me now.”
Arthur had to fight to not lift his head. Just staring down at the ground he could see the boots and trails of red cloak. A knight. Oh bother. “Yes my Lord.”
He scrambled to find a horse and proper gear.
“Well hurry up and saddle it up--I don’t have all day boy! Continue to be this incompetent and I’ll be sure to tell the king!”
Arthur really so badly wanted to take the bridle and fling it in someone’s face. NO one ever talked to him like this--not even knights! But uh--it would be worth it when he was free and in the snow--right?
He fiddled nervously with the gear, feeling suddenly a rough large hand wrench it all away from him. “Oh give me it boy. I’ll do it myself! What’s your name?”
Oh no. “Elmer-my Lord.”
“Lift your head Elmer. Don’t you know to face a knight with respect?”
“I thought it would be better to keep my eyes down-in respect my Lord.”
“Well I would like to see your face.”
Oh great dragons of days of old! Arthur slowly faced the man, having to strain to look up to him. “Yes my Lord…” If this didn’t work. Oh.
“You look a little familiar. Yes, something about your voice and I would say that you look just like-
His heart was beating so rapidly he was afraid his chest would burst. He was about to be caught. “No-I’m er-eh…new-my Lord.”
He had no choice. The knight, one Arthur knew was called Lord Veldmeren, was looking at him curiously now. Spotting a bucket of water, Arthur started to lift it--
He pretended it was too heavy to carry, banged the full container against Lord Veldmeren and brought the man toppling down with him into a messy wet heap on the hay.
“AH--BOY!”
Good, the clumsiness was perfect. It took the man away from the beginning ponderings that he could be a princely sort.
He would be expected to clean up the mess now though and he had no time for that. Issuing a silent apology, Arthur dashed away from the knight and the stables. Racing through the door as Lord Veldmeren called angrily after him, complaining of his utter incompetence, Arthur didn’t see the older boy heading to the stables from opposite direction until they collided.
Both fell to the ground with a hard thump.
“What-why are you running like-
All of his luck of before had completely fled now. Arthur startled as tangled up with him down on the ground was no one other than his friend Sir Leon. He tried to get up rapidly enough.
“Arthur?”
He shook his head vehemently, holding at his half wet clothes that were making him shiver hard. “No, no. Of course not. I’m not the prince. Do I look like one? Bit obvious not. I’m nothing of the sort. My name is-
“Arthur.” Leon was up on his feet too, holding at the younger boy’s arm.
Arthur grimaced tightly, as Leon, a boy over a hand full of years older than him, recognized exactly who he was. Caught. Noticing the snow still falling and feeling colder than ever, but also more determined than ever, Arthur shook his head.
“Leon--don’t tell.”
“You’re shaking.”
“No--I--
Leon had him by the arm already though and was taking off his red short training cloak, wrapping it around the younger boy as he led him to a more secluded spot. “Arthur-eh--my Lord--what are you doing?
Standing now with Leon in a hidden corner of the market area, Arthur wrapped the cloak tight around himself. “I just want a day--a few bell tolls to go there.”
“Where?”
Arthur pointed, as Leon seemed confused, to the outer skirts of Camelot, and beyond to where the great mountains started. “There, Leon. But my father won’t let me. He says it’s too dangerous. He’s wrong. I can handle it. I won’t be gone that long. Just don’t tell him. I can’t order you to keep quiet on it, but I can-Leon don’t tell him.”
An understanding smile came to Leon’s face even though reluctance mixed with it too. Defying the king was means for punishment for anyone. Even his brood. But he and Arthur had spoken enough of how sometimes Arthur felt his father didn’t let him do what he wanted. “I don’t know Arthur.”
“I won’t be gone that long!”
“Well…” Leon hesitated before gesturing strongly. “You can’t go dressed like that. You’re going to catch pneumonia.”
“Right, well then-I’ll take your cloak.” Remembering how regal it looked, Arthur quickly shook his head. “No I can’t do that. I’ll be spotted for sure.”
Leon looked away, spotting something-someone?
“Wait here. I’ve got an idea. Though I may regret it if the king ever finds out what you’re up to.”
Leon moved toward the outer market, leaving Arthur there to wonder.
He could tell his friend knight was still not totally behind the idea of letting the prince out of Camelot without his father’s permission, but then-
“Elyan!”
Arthur watched as a dark skinned boy older than him, but younger than Leon, turned around, holding what looked like a pair of magnificently crafted swords in his hands. Arthur wondered who made them look like that. He’d never seen swords of that caliber created by the Royal Forgers. Something so unique about them.
“Sir Leon. I’m on my way from my dad’s forge. Told me to deliver these to some customers. Have to get back to the master too. So if you could make it quick--I’d appreciate it.”
“Understood Elyan. I have a favor to ask you though. And it might seem a bit strange, but bear with me alright.”
“Alright.”
The dark skinned boy seemed puzzled, but it was obvious too to Arthur that he knew Leon well.
“I need to borrow your coat.”
“Eh?”
“Now, Elyan. Here--you take my inner cloak for the while. It’s a matter of royal importance.”
That word really brought a reaction from the boy called Elyan. Arthur watched him stand up straighter and quickly move away his coat even as he shivered against the cold. “Of course then.”
Leon gave Elyan his inner cloak, a bit less descript than his outer, and after putting back on the red one for himself, took the plain burnt red coat of Elyan’s into his hands.
Before departing, Leon thanked the dark skinned boy. Elyan gave a short nod and went on his way, wrapped in the cloak Leon loaned him.
“Who is he?” Arthur asked curiously as Leon headed back and handed him the coat. It was simple definitely, had little shape, bigger than his smaller size, but it was oddly warm too and had a hood that he could use for cover. Arthur pulled it past his sanding hair, already feeling less chilled, and it wasn’t even smelly for peasant’s wear.
“Son of a woman who works for my mother. He’s a good sort. Whole family is. Anyway, I know I’m going to regret this-
Per usual, Arthur was only half listening, focused on so many other things at present time. “What was his name again? I didn’t hear it all that well.”
Leon shook his head. “Never mind that. Arthur, are you sure about this?”
He nodded his head vehemently. “Yes. I have to do this Leon. I won’t be gone that long. I just need a horse now.”
Leon sighed resignedly. “You can take mine. Just Arthur, if you don’t get back within a few bells and your father gets suspicious, I won’t have a choice.”
Arthur shrugged it off. “Don’t worry about it Leon. I’ll be back long before my father returns.”
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Part II Here