The Knights Have a Thousand Eyes Part 3
The Knights Have a Thousand Eyes
Part 3
‘Are you okay?’ Arthur asked looking down to where Bedevere was slouched, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
‘I lost’
He guessed that was a ‘no’ to the okay question then.
‘I know.’
‘Against a peasant.’
The word was wrapped in vitriol. He was on the edge and one small push would break the man into pieces.
‘I meant physically. Your knees…?’ Arthur asked coolly.
‘Bruised I expect, but fine,’ Bedevere replied gruffly. ‘How did I lose? I mean, how did he win?’
‘Merlin has always been lucky, but even if he wasn’t, he might still have been victorious.’
Bedevere raised his brows at that, not quite able to believe that Arthur was genuinely suggesting that his servant could better him in a fair fight.
‘Not because of his skill,’ Arthur clarified, ‘but he’s persistent and has courage. He doesn’t run and he doesn’t back down. Honestly, he’s like a dog with a bone sometimes, the bane of my life.’
Bedevere didn’t even crack a smile.
‘What makes him so different?’
Arthur caught Romford’s eye and gave him a signal. Romford immediately began herding the others away to leave the two in peace.
Sitting next to him Arthur attempted to explain, to try to shake years’ worth of inbuilt prejudice.
‘Merlin? He’s no different to anyone else. They're all just people, the same as you and me.’
‘They’re peasants,’ Bedevere said coldly.
And much as Arthur wanted to point out all the other things they were - fathers, sons, brothers, friends, lovers, farmers, tinkers, tailors - that wasn’t the purpose of the exercise.
‘You’re bitter about what happened on the battlefield the day your father was defeated by mine, I understand. But look, we ask them to fight for the honour of a lord they’ve never seen and probably wouldn’t like if they did meet. What place do kings, lords and distant battles have in their lives? They don’t want to fight. They want to eat, survive, live in a place where they’re safe, deal with a lord who treats them fairly.’
‘But don’t they realise it’s their lord who holds the land that they use, who protects their borders so that they can live safely?’ Bedevere asked in agitation.
‘How should they? All they know of their lords are the soldiers demanding taxes without taking account of the drought or the sickness. I’ve watched the last of their grain disappear into sacks and borne away by men who care more about their mounts. I’ve seen livelihoods decimated when livestock is rounded up to feed their lord’s armies.’
‘My father would never…’ Bedevere began.
‘They’re all the same,’ Arthur said flatly. ‘How many times did you receive delegations pleading for a tax amnesty for some reason or other? How many times were they successful?’
‘Of course, if one is lenient then everyone will try the same excuse….’
‘Then we investigate. Make sure their claim is fair. Not dismiss it out of hand. We treat cattle better than we treat our own people.’
Bedevere was silent for a while.
‘I never knew you felt so strongly.’
‘I never knew I did, either. People keep forcing me to think about things,’ Arthur complained.
‘How irritating. I sympathise. I have a Prince, who does the same thing to me,’ Bedevere replied with some resignation.
‘Why should I be the only one to suffer?’
‘I know. If Arthur suffers, we all suffer.’ He faked a sigh and Arthur gave him a half-hearted kick.
‘It’s as if I’m waking up to everything around me. We think we know what’s right and yet each problem has ten different sides and twenty shades of grey, and each action a hundred different consequences,’ Arthur explained.
‘You really have been thinking, haven’t you?’
‘I haven’t had much choice in the matter. For some reason, certain people think I can influence my father’s decisions. Unfortunately, it’s not true.’
He refused to say anymore. Refused to talk about all the ways he disagreed with his father.
Bedevere put a comforting hand on his arm.
‘It’s the way of the world,’ he said finally. ‘The strong win and the rest get trodden on.’
‘So Morgana and Merlin taught us nothing?’ Arthur said lifting his eyes, now suddenly piercing in their intensity. Bedevere blanched at the reminder.
‘That sometimes there are exceptions,’ he said, aiming for nonchalance, but the set of his shoulders and tension in his neck ensured he missed that mark by a mile.
‘I prefer to think that the lesson is, given the motivation, there is strength in everyone.’
‘And Morgana’s overpowering motive was?’
‘What do you think?’
He was determined to make the young knight think for himself.
‘How would I know?’
Arthur remained silent.
Bedevere considered the incident and what he knew of Lady Morgana - her temper and her wit and how condescension from someone as inherently intellectually inferior as Sir Hubert would irk her. It was her clever, cunning swordplay and not a display of brute strength that won the challenge. In truth, it had been a thing of beauty to observe.
‘Hubert judged that he was stronger, cleverer, better….’
‘Why?’ Arthur prompted.
‘Because he’s a man and she’s merely a woman,’ Bedevere said slowly. ‘But he misjudged. Badly. Morgana is not weak or helpless. That’s why she fought, so fiercely, to prove him wrong. She fought for the right to be considered on her own merits.’
‘See? You’re not complete imbecile.’
‘Was that a compliment, Arthur? Because it’s time someone pointed out to you that your compliments stink.’
Arthur gave a grunt of amusement.
‘So by the same token I’m guessing that Merlin didn’t want to be judged as weak just because he’s of low birth?’
Arthur gave a short laugh.
‘Merlin could hardly care less how you see him.’
‘So why would he agree to fight me?’
‘Because I told him to.’
The knight was silent but Arthur could almost hear the wheels spinning.
‘Problem?’ he asked.
And Bedevere felt a flash of anger.
‘Yes, problem. You don’t force a virtually unarmed servant to face a fully armed, fully trained knight. It’s…,’ he momentarily stumbled for a word, ‘unethical,’ he finished.
‘Are you saying it was my fault?’ Arthur asked softly, a dangerous note in his voice. ‘Was it I who insisted on fighting a virtually unarmed man?’
‘
You commanded him!’
‘I am the Prince. It’s my position to command. I respond to circumstances. You were the circumstance,’ he pointed out.
‘It was a matter of honour,’ Bedevere replied hoarsely.
‘It was a matter of pride,’ Arthur corrected. ‘You put me in the position of sending a good man out, possibly to his death, because of your hubris.’
‘You should have backed down! Merlin should have backed down! If there was pride it was yours!’
So defensive. So fragile. All it would take was a push. So Arthur pushed.
‘Backed down and confirmed your every prejudice? The faithless, cowardly peasant? I risked Merlin so that you could learn. Don’t make it all for nothing.’
‘I… I don’t understand….’
‘You’re my knight, Bedevere, I depend upon you, and yet you deliberately put me in an untenable position. I need to be able my trust men.’
Bedevere was almost in tears.
‘You can. You can trust me!’
‘You made me risk Merlin!’
And Bedevere was breaking before his eyes.
‘That’s what it means to command, sending good men out to die for ridiculous reasons. As your father did….’ Arthur ended softly.
Bedevere turned his face away.
Arthur gave him a minute of or privacy before pulling him into a rough one-armed embrace. Bedevere raised glassy red eyes.
He stared at Arthur and suddenly leant forward and kissed him. And just as quickly withdrew.
‘God, I’m sorry. I just needed….’
‘Yeah, I know.’
And Arthur did. That feeling of vulnerability and the searching for comfort from those you trust.
‘You’ve had a bad day.’
Bedevere’s eyes crinkled in amusement. Arthur was sometimes excellent at stating the obvious.
‘I think I’ve been a worse prat than you.’
‘Yeah, but now that you’ve admitted it I’ve knocked a dozen points off your prat score,’ Arthur told him, ignoring his look of confusion, merely eyeing him speculatively. ‘So you’re not going to try to hurt Merlin or anything?’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘Revenge on the peasant?’
Sharp-clawed guilt clutched at Bedevere. He winced and lowered his eyes.
‘Please don’t. I was just … I don’t know. I’ve never said, but… it was a big thing for my family. That defeat. And then having to hand me over to Uther.
‘Mother was crying and Father was blaming the peasants and the knights and the servants. Anyone but himself, I suppose. It’s hard when you discover that this person you most admired and respected has feet of clay. The truth is that we weren’t strong enough to face Uther. Father was advised against it but went ahead anyway. He failed us all, and if those men hadn’t run they would probably have been slaughtered.’
All artifice and façade stripped away. Bedevere was exposed and naked, empty and waiting to be filled again. Arthur was stroking his hair as though comforting a child. Bedevere’s head fell on to Arthur’s shoulder. He would later deny that he was nestling into his prince.
‘It feels good to just let it all go. It’s eaten away at me for so long.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘But I’m glad, you know? Not that people got killed in a bloody battle that should never have happened. But that I ended up here.’
‘You’re a good man. A good man to have at my side.’
‘Then we’re going to be okay?’ Bedevere asked.
And now that he’d broken, Arthur could begin the delicate process of rebuilding him into something shining and new. A Camelot knight. His knight.
‘Yeah. More than okay,’ he confirmed.
Bedevere sighed in relief. He felt bone-tired, but he was Arthur’s knight so he found the strength to pull away and straighten up. Arthur’s hand fell away from his hair.
‘I should apologise to Merlin. I can’t believe he obeyed you though. I never realised you had that much power over him. Or that he acknowledged it.’
‘Power over Merlin? Are you joking? He rides roughshod over every part of my life. He’s outspoken, rude and more than happy to refuse to carry out my every command….’
‘Then why obey this one?’
Arthur shifted uncomfortably remembering the tactics he’d used.
‘I just made it clear that it was important to me.’
‘Arthur? Does he… have, uh, feelings for you?’
‘Good grief, no! He thinks I’m a complete prat. You know he keeps a prat score which goes up and down depending on how prattish he thinks I’ve been.’
The last remnants of tension disappeared as Bedevere burst into laughter.
‘He told you that?’
‘No, but I’ve heard him muttering occasionally when he’s adding or deducting the points. I’ve got sharp hearing and eventually worked out what he was doing.’
Bedevere was still chuckling.
‘I’d loved to have seen your face when you discovered that. So how are you doing?’
‘I think I’m probably up to about 90% again. I have a strategy though….’
‘When haven’t you? Go on. What is your devious plan?’
‘I’m going to break his system by being a 101% prat.’ Arthur explained with a self-satisfied grin, and Bedevere creased up in silent laughter.
…
Meanwhile the man in question was flinging himself up the steps to Gaius rooms and skidding to a halt, breathless and harried.
‘Merlin? Whatever is the matter?’
‘I….’
‘Spit it out, boy.’
‘I think Arthur knows that I’m magic,’ he blurted.
Gaius legs gave out. Luckily there was a three-legged stool conveniently placed to catch him. He sagged on to it and grabbed the edge of the work table, feeling the weight of every year of his life bearing down on his shoulders.
‘What have you done?’
‘Nothing! I didn’t do anything.’
Gaius lifted the dreaded eyebrow.
‘Honestly! Nothing! And it wasn’t my fault. And Arthur made me do it!’
That gave Gaius a little to work with.
‘Arthur made you do what?’
‘Fight Bedevere. With a stick!’
This still wasn’t particularly illuminating.
‘Why did he do that?’ Gaius asked in bewilderment.
‘Exactly!’ Merlin replied, gratified that his mentor had grasped the salient point so speedily.
‘Merlin,’ Gaius sighed, ‘it’s a question. Why would he do that?’
‘Because he’s an ass,’ Merlin explained.
‘So you’ve told me many, many times before. In great detail. But in this case I’d actually appreciate a little detail.’
‘Well I thought it was to teach Bedevere a lesson. But now I think it was to make me use magic….’
‘Merlin! You didn’t….’ His heart actually skipped a beat.
‘I was going to but…..’ He turned pink.
‘But what?’
‘But I didn’t, alright!’
‘So Bedevere beat you? Are you injured?’
Gaius surged to his feet and immediately put a finger to Merlin’s wrist. The pulse felt strong enough, if a trifle fast.
‘No! Gaius I won.’
‘But… how?’
Merlin wished he had some swashbuckling tale of skill and bravery.
‘I caught my foot in a rabbit hole, and kind of caught him with my stick as I fell. Now Arthur thinks I used magic….’
‘It does sound a little improbable. Are you sure that you didn’t accidentally…..’ Gaius made what was clearly meant to be a magical gesture.
‘Not unless epic clumsiness is part of my magic,’ Merlin said miserably.
‘Are you sure that Arthur knows? I mean, you’re here, aren’t you? If he knew then he’d be marching you to the dungeon at sword point. He’s not in the habit of letting sorcerers have free run of Camelot.’
‘Maybe he’s waiting for more proof.’
Gaius wished the boy had a better instinct for self preservation. Powerful magic had given him a misplaced sense of invulnerability, making him complacent and occasionally arrogant.
‘Then make sure you don’t give it too him. You must be more careful, Merlin.’
Merlin blinked and nodded as Gaius first shook him and then pulled him into a hug, his robe rough against Merlin’s cheek.
‘What am I going to do with you?’ he wondered.
‘I’ll try to be careful. I promise.’
Gaius supposed that was the best he could hope for.
…
The meeting with his father went no better and no worse than these things normally did. Which, given the morning he’d had, meant it proceeded considerably better than Arthur had dared hope.
Uther was currently informing him who would be invited to court, why they were needed, who Arthur would be expected to charm and who responded better to Uther’s veiled threats. Arthur took in the bare bones and then began to just nod along.
‘Arthur! Are you even listening to me?’
‘Of course, father.’
‘Hector and Romford tell me that training is going well.’
Arthur stiffened at Hector’s name, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Despite Hector’s words, he had been Uther’s knight first. He only gradually relaxed when nothing further was said.
‘They’re getting there,’ he replied noncommittally.
‘Good. I need you and your knights to carry out a sweep of the forest. We have bandits waylaying travellers, threatening their lives and stealing their valuables. The routes to Camelot must be kept safe. It reflects badly on us if we cannot even guarantee safe passage through our own forests.’
Nothing about keeping people safe, Arthur noted.
‘I’ll see to it tomorrow.’
‘Very good. Report back to me and let me know what you find.’
Arthur left word for the knights that they would be required in the afternoon. He’d brief them in the morning session. For now he was just happy to return to his room and close the door on a long and stressful day.
Merlin was waiting for him inside and a quick glance around told him that there was nothing obvious he could pick fault with. He gave a dissatisfied sigh, feeling out of sorts and not even able to legitimately pick on Merlin.
Actually, Merlin was unusually silent, and uncharacteristically quick and efficient at disrobing him. The temperature of the bath was perfect when he sank back into it.
This was better. Provided he avoided thinking about anything at all, then Arthur was fairly content. He closed his eyes to Merlin’s anxious hovering.
‘Do you need anything else?’ Merlin asked.
He thought about asking him to wash his hair. He felt tired and stiff and loath to move.
Although he was scrupulously refusing to think about Merlin and his… luckiness, it occurred to Arthur that allowing Merlin to carry out such a personal duty might be a way of showing trust. Besides, he loved the feeling of fingers dragging over his scalp.
Then he weighed it against this being Merlin.
‘Do you think you could soap my hair without getting suds in my eyes?’ he asked, opening one eye to observe Merlin’s response.
‘Yes?’ Merlin replied uncertainly.
The fact that it was a question didn’t inspire confidence. There again he had to learn how to do it sometime. There were days Arthur was so stiff that he couldn’t even lift his arm that high, and he refused to expose that sort of vulnerability to any other servant.
‘Okay. Go for it.’
Merlin approached tentatively and kneeled down next to the tub. Arthur was lying naked, awaiting his touch. His eyes were closed, and he looked utterly relaxed.
There was so much of a intimate nature that Arthur required from his manservant. Sometimes Merlin thought it would drive him insane. But this was the worst by far. His heart was stuttering and his hands were shaking. He had permission to touch him, was required to touch him, to work fingers through spun-gold hair.
Carefully shielding Arthur’s face with a hand to his forehead, he poured warm water over his hair. And then he slowly worked up a lather from the soap.
‘Really, Merlin. My hair won’t wash itself.’
‘Ass,’ he replied automatically.
But it did the trick and Merlin swept fingers through the wet, clinging tendrils and went to work.
It felt fantastic. Arthur could feel tension draining away as powerful fingers massaged his scalp. It felt so good that he was virtually purring, a soft contented moan from deep in his throat.
The noises that Arthur was making were doing strange things to Merlin. He concentrated on tenderly catching stray trails of soap from his forehead and cheeks, wiping them away before they could reach mouth or eyes, and couldn’t help smiling softly as he watched Arthur relax into his touch. It was intimate and sweet.
Maybe this crescendo of feeling was merely the euphoria of realising that whether Arthur knew about his magic or not, everything still seemed normal between them. More than normal. It was good. It was perfect. Arthur was virtually unravelling beneath his fingers…. Merlin stroked a finger over the curve of his cheek, pretending to chase a non-existant path of soap. He was sure Arthur had noticed, would open his eyes and say something....
And then the door banged open.
‘Merlin. Leave.’ Came the imperious demand.
‘Uh, Morgana?’ Merlin stuttered
And Arthur was in the bath, hair soaped up, eyes wide and with an expression veering between startled and outraged.
‘For godsake! I’m trying to bathe! What is the matter with you, woman? Would you please….’
‘I said go, Merlin,’ she commanded again.
Merlin’s eyes swivelled to Arthur.
‘He’s not going anywhere. Merlin, would you please get me a towel’ he pleaded feeling exposed and at a disadvantage.
He turned furious eyes back to Morgana. ‘You, however, can leave. You cannot just come bursting in on me. You could at least pretend to some modesty even if you lack all other ladylike qualities.’
‘And you could at least pretend to care for people in your service,’ she shot back.
Thankfully a towel was pushed into his hands, because he very much needed to stand and he’d prefer not to give Morgana an eyeful. He wrapped the towel around his hips attempting to retain some decency.
‘How dare you tell me that I don’t care!’
‘You sent Merlin out there, to face one of your armed flunkies with nothing but a stick, Arthur! I mean, what the hell were you thinking? Anything could have happened.’
Arthur strode behind his screen.
‘Clothes, Merlin,’ he ordered, quickly scrubbing the towel over his skin. Merlin rushed around clutching clean trousers and shirt.
‘What the hell business is it of yours how I command my servant?’
‘So you did command him to do it!’
Even her footsteps sounded furious - quick and sharp. And they were heading towards the screen.
‘If you dare come around here, I’ll tell father….’
‘Isn’t that just like you? Spoilt brat running to daddy,’ she sneered.
Merlin was fairly sure he wasn’t invisible, seeing as he was currently helping Arthur to step into his trousers, but he certainly felt like he was. He should have followed Morgana’s first instruction and left when he had the chance.
‘I never knew you were that desperate to see me naked,’ Arthur’s voice smoothed to silk, ‘all you had to do was ask.’
There was a momentary pause and then a deep breath.
‘Really Arthur, must you descend into juvenility?’
‘Nothing juvenile here, I assure you. Is there Merlin?’
Merlin kept his head down and his mouth shut. Perhaps invisibility would be preferable, after all.
‘Although I understand why you’ve paused. Seeing me in all my glory would be enough to make any girl swoon dead away.’
The smirk in his voice was painfully obvious, and was guaranteed to drive Morgana insane.
‘You’re insufferable! I’ll never understand how you can fit a helmet on to a head that size. Does the smithy have to make it for you as a special order? Why Merlin puts up with you I’ll never know.’
The moisture lingering on his skin wasn’t helping, but finally they got the shirt over his head. Arthur stepped out and gave Morgana a brittle but brilliant smile.
‘Merlin puts up with me because I’m completely gorgeous,’ he replied.
His clothes moulded damply to his skin, his face was flushed from the hot water and his hair was weirdly sculpted by soap. Even like that, he was still oddly appealing. Merlin thought Arthur’s point had some merit. Morgana begged to differ,
‘Merlin is too amenable for his own good, and you’re taking advantage of that. Didn’t you learn your lesson with Bernadette?’
Arthur stilled. Eyes turned flinty and his lips whitened. The smile didn’t exactly fall as morph into something that looked more like a snarl.
Morgana took a small step backward but continued to meet his gaze, lifting her head challengingly.
‘Thank you for the reminder, dear Morgana. Obviously I was in danger of forgetting that… lesson.’ His voice dripped with icy disdain.
‘You think I go too far, but I would go further if it would just make you see.’
‘I see perfectly well, but thank you for your kind concern. Your advice has been duly noted. You may go.’
Blood red lips curled in contempt.
‘You disappoint me, I expected better of you.’
On that note she swept back out of the door.
Merlin had so many questions but when Arthur met his eyes there was old hurt lingering in their depths.
It was Arthur who spoke first.
‘You can go. I must join father for dinner.’
Merlin looked at him and the ducktail peaks still caught in his hair. He reached out a hand towards it, but froze when Arthur flinched away.
‘It’s just that you need to rinse first,’ he explained quickly.
He wanted so badly to return to the easiness they had before Morganna burst in. He wanted permission to touch. Instead he let his hand drop to his side, as Arthur’s own hand involuntarily flew to his hair.
‘Oh.’
‘Do you want me to help?’
The moment had passed and Arthur shook his head, but his eyes looked so damned sad.
Merlin needed to fix this. But first he had to find out what scab Morgana had cruelly picked at when mentioning that name. Bernadette. Whoever she was, he hated her already.
It was clear he would learn nothing from Arthur so he just gave a reassuring smile.
‘Right. I’ll see you in the morning then.’
There was no answer.
Merlin hadn’t really expected one.
He took advantage of his early dismissal to join Gaius, begging some meat and cheese from the kitchen first.
‘Here.’
Warm bread was balanced on top of his loot. A bright smile and coy look accompanied it.
Merlin smiled his thanks. It was always a good idea to be polite to the kitchen maids and cooks.
When Gaius came in he found his work table cleared and a feast laid out.
‘What’s this in aid of? What have you done now?’ he asked suspiciously. ‘Oh, Merlin you haven’t been doing magic again, have you?’
‘Of course not!’ Merlin replied in an offended tone. ‘It’s just to say thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘For everything?’
Gaius weighed this up and then smiled.
‘Well in that case,’ he said sitting at the table and reaching for a slice of meat, ‘let’s not allow it to go to waste, eh?’
Merlin gave him a blazing smile and began enthusiastically tucking in.
‘So Morgana came to see Arthur this evening.’
‘Yes?’ Gaius replied, reaching for the bread and breaking off a portion. He made a contented noise as he bit into it.
Merlin guessed that there was never going to be a better time.
‘Yeah well, Arthur acted all strange when she mentioned a name. Bernadette.’
Gaius didn’t quite break into a coughing fit but it was close thing.
‘What did Arthur do to make Morgana mention that?’
‘Nothing. She wasn’t happy that he’d made me fight Bedevere. Said he should have learnt his lesson after Bernadette, or something like that.’
‘Oh that was cruel.’
He decided not to beat about the bush. Gaius always saw through his attempts at being subtle so he may as well plunge straight in.
‘So what’s the story then?’
‘No Merlin. It’s an old story and I’m not going to gossip.’
Well that was a bit much. Gaius could gossip like a woman when it suited him.
‘But who was she?’ Merlin persisted.
‘No one. She worked at the castle for a while.’
‘Okay, so she was a servant. Why did she leave?’
‘Eat your cheese, Merlin. And stop prying.’
Well it was better than nothing.
Merlin didn’t sleep well. His fertile imagination concocted a million Bernadette stories. In the end he convinced himself that Arthur had loved her and Uther had disapproved, had her beheaded and buried her bones deep in the castle vaults.
At least not sleeping meant he was awake when the sun rose. When he served breakfast it was at breakfast time, so Arthur could have no reason to complain. Although reason had never stopped the prince before.
‘God, Merlin. Could you be any noisier?’ groaned a disembodied voice from beneath Arthur’s quilt.
‘Probably,’ Merlin replied and noisily clanked the covers from the food as though it had been a request.
‘Aargh!’
‘You’re welcome.’
Arthur gradually emerged from beneath the covers as the smell of bacon and roast beef wafted through the air. Merlin was already beginning to pick at the food, and Arthur knew from experience that if he lay abed much longer he’d be left with nothing but the coddled eggs.
He blearily seated himself at the table. Merlin poured him some fresh water and then stepped behind him as though he were a proper servant.
‘Oh, just sit down and help yourself. You know that’s what’s going to happen anyway.’
Merlin grinned and settled happily next to him.
‘Just don’t eat all the bacon,’ Arthur warned ominously.
And because Merlin was so happy that Arthur was speaking to him, and behaving normally again, he amiably redirected his fork and scooped up a coddled egg instead.
Only as the meal progressed did Merlin notice that everything was more stilted than usual. Even the insults that normally ran so naturally between them sounded forced. Finally, Arthur abruptly pushed his chair back, having eaten only half of his usual amount
‘I’ll need my horse at midday,’ he informed Merlin.
Hunting?’
‘Bandits.’
‘I suppose that means there won’t be time for our practice session?’ Merlin asked hopefully.
‘I wouldn’t dream of disappointing you. For you, Merlin, I’ll make time.’
Arthur guessed that would be another prat point to the score and so gave him a cheerful look.
Merlin flashed him a half-hearted smile that lasted a second and never touched his eyes.
But despite the fact that it was weapons training, he was actually flattered that Arthur wanted to spend time with him despite whatever weirdness was going on. Yes, it was normally embarrassing, sometimes painful and usually left his ears ringing, but…. He forgot what his point was, because now he thought about it properly, he remembered that he really hated weapons training.
The only redeeming feature was Arthur’s attention would be focused solely on Merlin. Yeah, so Merlin had long since realised he had a thing for his oblivious prince. But Arthur’s taste seemed to run to powerful knights, not skinny menservants, so he took whatever he was allowed.
Arthur left for his early training session with Romford. He always had at least an hour before the others joined him. As hard as he worked the men, he worked himself even harder.
Merlin was doing his chores when there was a knock at the door.
‘Arthur’s not here,’ he called.
The door opened anyway, and he immediately stopped using magic As a result he was suddenly hit with the full weight of a tub full of water.
‘It was you I wanted to see, actually.’
And there was Bedevere looking heavy-eyed and unhappy.
‘Oh here. Let me give you a hand with that,’ he offered as he saw that Merlin was struggling.
He took one edge of the bath and helped to tip yesterday’s bath water out of the window.
‘Thanks,’ Merlin said, but cocked a curious eyebrow.
‘Oh. Hmm. Just wanted to apologise for yesterday.’
‘Okay,’ Merlin said encouragingly.
‘So yes. Right. I’m sorry. It should never have happened.’
Merlin could be gracious, and he honestly held no hard feelings towards this young knight.
‘Apology accepted,’ Merlin said and smiled at him brightly. ‘Would you care for some breakfast?’
Bedevere looked at the substantial remains of Arthur’s uneaten meal. He hadn’t had the heart for breakfast earlier, but now that he’d made his apology, he thought maybe he could eat a morsel or two
‘I don’t want to take it if you were planning to….’ He swept a hand at the food.
‘Oh no. I ate with Arthur this morning.’
‘You did?’ Bedevere wouldn’t dream of sharing his breakfast with his servant. It was most irregular. He found himself wondering about Arthur and Merlin, and Gawain’s speculation.
He helped himself to a hunk of beef, and Merlin passed him the water jug.
‘I’m sorry too.’ Merlin said. ‘I don’t really know what happened and it wasn’t fair that you were beaten like that, you know, by me.’
‘That’s the nature of battle. It’s not logical and it’s not science. The purpose of our skill is to mitigate what chance throws at us. However much we practice, we cannot tame or leash chance.’
‘I never thought of it like that,’ Merlin replied with a frown because that implied that the best swordsman didn’t always win, which in turn had implications for Arthur.
‘We’re not all complete blockheads you know. One or two of us are occasionally capable of the odd profound thought.’
Merlin blushed. He did tend to equate their brute strength with stupidity.
‘I’m sorry. I have no right to judge….’
‘We all have our prejudices. It’s the duty of friends to open their eyes to them.’
‘Are we… friends?’ Merlin asked slowly.
Bedevere reached for a slab of bacon and chewed it thoughtfully.
‘I don’t see why not. I can understand your hesitance but I hope we can get past yesterday’s, uh, misunderstanding.’
‘I suppose we can do that.’
‘Excellent!’
In the spirit of friendship, Merlin joined him at the table.
‘I wonder if you can tell me something…?’
‘You can only ask.’
‘About Arthur. Something that happened in the past. It was to do with a woman.’
‘Ah. You’ve heard the palace gossip, I take it?’
‘Not exactly. It was something Morgana said.’
‘Well, if it was to do with a woman then it was probably…. Well, it’s common knowledge that he fell prey to a scheming lady. Seduced him when he was little more than a boy, if that’s what you meant?’
‘Uh, I don’t know.’
‘Fifteenth birthday to be exact. Oh this bacon is delicious,' He reached for another bit. 'Suppose she had to at least wait for that to have any sort of credibility. Fifteen is young but fourteen would have been unconscionable. That small spark of honour was her downfall though.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Merlin admitted ‘I haven’t heard any of this.’
‘She was already with child,’ Bedevere explained, ‘but left it too long to lay with Arthur if she wished people to believe it was his. She gave birth eight weeks early to a large, healthy babe.
‘It was before my time but apparently there was hell over her. She was the granddaughter of some minor lord, and Arthur was set on doing the honorable thing. Naturally she was urging for a quick marriage. Well, you can imagine how Uther took that. Luckily, the child was born before they were wed. Everyone realised that she’d tried to dupe the Prince and she was quickly married off to some farmer.’
'Oh. How awful.'
His heart went out to that young idealistic boy. The hurt of that betrayal. The scorn of those who judged him. But Merlin realised that this was not the woman Morgana had alluded to.
‘So she wasn’t a servant then?’
‘No.’
‘Oh. The one I meant was called Bernadette.’
‘That one was even worse,’ Bedevere sighed. ‘I don’t really know the details. No one talks about it much. But it was after that incident that Arthur was called to face the king and had what must have been the singularly most embarrassing conversation of his life.’
‘Really? What happened?’
‘The story I heard was that the king had had enough of Arthur’s philandering. He didn’t want any bastards running around the court muddying future succession. He told Arthur that the next woman he took to his bed would be his wife. A choice of marriage or…. Well…. The king informed Arthur that there was pleasure to be found with men….’
‘Uther said that?’ Merlin was squirming at the embarrassment quotient of such a conversation. He’d never felt so sorry for Arthur in his life.
‘It got worse. Arthur didn’t know what he meant, so the king had to spell it out for him.’
Merlin’s mouth dropped in horror.
‘That's... that's....' Words deserted him. 'Did Arthur tell you all this?’
‘Good god, no. But even a private family conversation still requires guards on the door. Between us all we know pretty much everything that happens here.’
Merlin had never considered that before, but it made sense.
‘So what did Arthur say? When Uther gave his ultimatum?’
Bedevere’s pulled a face.
‘I believe he was speechless. The king took pity on him in the end and gave him permission to leave.’
And that explained why Merlin had never seen him with a woman. Merlin had the answer to a question that he hadn’t asked, but was still no further forward with his original one.
‘But Bernadette? I mean, you must know something?’
‘I’m afraid not. I’m glad you’ve forgiven me, I’m sure we’ll be great friends, but I have to go. Arthur will be waiting.’
Merlin had the impression that he’d pushed his new friendship too far. Bedevere’s first loyalty would always be to the Prince, and that was as it should be.
He returned to his chores, clearing plates, picking up clothes, raking out the fire and setting a new one. It had all become remarkably routine, and he was able to whizz through most of it. Which left him time to find Gwen.
Good old Gwen.
Dependable Gwen.
Surely she would be willing to tell him what he wanted to know.
…
‘No, Merlin.’
‘No?’
He was taken aback, Gwen never told him no. And she was so definite, none of her amusing babble of half statements and contradictions.
‘But…. I need to know!’
Gwen gazed at him steadily.
‘I can understand you’re curious, but why would you need to know?’
‘So that I can fix it! You didn’t see him. When Morgana mentioned that name… the look on his face….’
‘I did see him. I saw the look the first time around. It’s very sweet of you, but you can’t fix it, Merlin.’
‘Did Uther have her killed?’
‘What? No, of course not! Whoever told you that?’
Merlin turned pink and muttered something intelligible.
‘Pardon?’
‘I said no one.’
Gwen stood, arms crossed, foot tapping as she awaited further explanation
‘Gaius says I have too much imagination. It runs away with me,’ Merlin admitted sheepishly. ‘If you would just tell me something, it would really help.’
Gwen sighed but was unable to completely resist him. He was so sweet and nice and it wasn’t really gossiping….
‘She was my friend, Merlin, and she was lovely. Bright and cheerful and beautiful. Arthur saw her and fell for her. It should never have happened, but the prince is very handsome and charming, and just being a prince is enough to turn a girl’s head… I know you’ll think I’m silly, but it’s like the title is magic or an enchantment or something. Bernadette knew she shouldn’t do it, but when he turned his eyes in her direction she couldn’t help herself. She wasn’t bad or evil or anything but then it all turned into one huge mess!’ Gwen finished.
‘But why?’
However, Gwen was clearly distressed and brushing roughly at her eyes.
‘It’s okay. I’m sorry,’ he whispered and put an arm around her comfortingly.
‘I have to go,’ she sniffed and attempted a watery smile to show that she was okay. Which just served to make Merlin feel even worse.
He was left to ponder his unique ability to chase away friends, both old and new. But despite this, he was still determined to get to the bottom of what happened. Except he was now left with two souces of information. Neither choice was good.
Morgana. Or Arthur.
His gulp was audible.
Part 4
Part 3
‘Are you okay?’ Arthur asked looking down to where Bedevere was slouched, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
‘I lost’
He guessed that was a ‘no’ to the okay question then.
‘I know.’
‘Against a peasant.’
The word was wrapped in vitriol. He was on the edge and one small push would break the man into pieces.
‘I meant physically. Your knees…?’ Arthur asked coolly.
‘Bruised I expect, but fine,’ Bedevere replied gruffly. ‘How did I lose? I mean, how did he win?’
‘Merlin has always been lucky, but even if he wasn’t, he might still have been victorious.’
Bedevere raised his brows at that, not quite able to believe that Arthur was genuinely suggesting that his servant could better him in a fair fight.
‘Not because of his skill,’ Arthur clarified, ‘but he’s persistent and has courage. He doesn’t run and he doesn’t back down. Honestly, he’s like a dog with a bone sometimes, the bane of my life.’
Bedevere didn’t even crack a smile.
‘What makes him so different?’
Arthur caught Romford’s eye and gave him a signal. Romford immediately began herding the others away to leave the two in peace.
Sitting next to him Arthur attempted to explain, to try to shake years’ worth of inbuilt prejudice.
‘Merlin? He’s no different to anyone else. They're all just people, the same as you and me.’
‘They’re peasants,’ Bedevere said coldly.
And much as Arthur wanted to point out all the other things they were - fathers, sons, brothers, friends, lovers, farmers, tinkers, tailors - that wasn’t the purpose of the exercise.
‘You’re bitter about what happened on the battlefield the day your father was defeated by mine, I understand. But look, we ask them to fight for the honour of a lord they’ve never seen and probably wouldn’t like if they did meet. What place do kings, lords and distant battles have in their lives? They don’t want to fight. They want to eat, survive, live in a place where they’re safe, deal with a lord who treats them fairly.’
‘But don’t they realise it’s their lord who holds the land that they use, who protects their borders so that they can live safely?’ Bedevere asked in agitation.
‘How should they? All they know of their lords are the soldiers demanding taxes without taking account of the drought or the sickness. I’ve watched the last of their grain disappear into sacks and borne away by men who care more about their mounts. I’ve seen livelihoods decimated when livestock is rounded up to feed their lord’s armies.’
‘My father would never…’ Bedevere began.
‘They’re all the same,’ Arthur said flatly. ‘How many times did you receive delegations pleading for a tax amnesty for some reason or other? How many times were they successful?’
‘Of course, if one is lenient then everyone will try the same excuse….’
‘Then we investigate. Make sure their claim is fair. Not dismiss it out of hand. We treat cattle better than we treat our own people.’
Bedevere was silent for a while.
‘I never knew you felt so strongly.’
‘I never knew I did, either. People keep forcing me to think about things,’ Arthur complained.
‘How irritating. I sympathise. I have a Prince, who does the same thing to me,’ Bedevere replied with some resignation.
‘Why should I be the only one to suffer?’
‘I know. If Arthur suffers, we all suffer.’ He faked a sigh and Arthur gave him a half-hearted kick.
‘It’s as if I’m waking up to everything around me. We think we know what’s right and yet each problem has ten different sides and twenty shades of grey, and each action a hundred different consequences,’ Arthur explained.
‘You really have been thinking, haven’t you?’
‘I haven’t had much choice in the matter. For some reason, certain people think I can influence my father’s decisions. Unfortunately, it’s not true.’
He refused to say anymore. Refused to talk about all the ways he disagreed with his father.
Bedevere put a comforting hand on his arm.
‘It’s the way of the world,’ he said finally. ‘The strong win and the rest get trodden on.’
‘So Morgana and Merlin taught us nothing?’ Arthur said lifting his eyes, now suddenly piercing in their intensity. Bedevere blanched at the reminder.
‘That sometimes there are exceptions,’ he said, aiming for nonchalance, but the set of his shoulders and tension in his neck ensured he missed that mark by a mile.
‘I prefer to think that the lesson is, given the motivation, there is strength in everyone.’
‘And Morgana’s overpowering motive was?’
‘What do you think?’
He was determined to make the young knight think for himself.
‘How would I know?’
Arthur remained silent.
Bedevere considered the incident and what he knew of Lady Morgana - her temper and her wit and how condescension from someone as inherently intellectually inferior as Sir Hubert would irk her. It was her clever, cunning swordplay and not a display of brute strength that won the challenge. In truth, it had been a thing of beauty to observe.
‘Hubert judged that he was stronger, cleverer, better….’
‘Why?’ Arthur prompted.
‘Because he’s a man and she’s merely a woman,’ Bedevere said slowly. ‘But he misjudged. Badly. Morgana is not weak or helpless. That’s why she fought, so fiercely, to prove him wrong. She fought for the right to be considered on her own merits.’
‘See? You’re not complete imbecile.’
‘Was that a compliment, Arthur? Because it’s time someone pointed out to you that your compliments stink.’
Arthur gave a grunt of amusement.
‘So by the same token I’m guessing that Merlin didn’t want to be judged as weak just because he’s of low birth?’
Arthur gave a short laugh.
‘Merlin could hardly care less how you see him.’
‘So why would he agree to fight me?’
‘Because I told him to.’
The knight was silent but Arthur could almost hear the wheels spinning.
‘Problem?’ he asked.
And Bedevere felt a flash of anger.
‘Yes, problem. You don’t force a virtually unarmed servant to face a fully armed, fully trained knight. It’s…,’ he momentarily stumbled for a word, ‘unethical,’ he finished.
‘Are you saying it was my fault?’ Arthur asked softly, a dangerous note in his voice. ‘Was it I who insisted on fighting a virtually unarmed man?’
‘
You commanded him!’
‘I am the Prince. It’s my position to command. I respond to circumstances. You were the circumstance,’ he pointed out.
‘It was a matter of honour,’ Bedevere replied hoarsely.
‘It was a matter of pride,’ Arthur corrected. ‘You put me in the position of sending a good man out, possibly to his death, because of your hubris.’
‘You should have backed down! Merlin should have backed down! If there was pride it was yours!’
So defensive. So fragile. All it would take was a push. So Arthur pushed.
‘Backed down and confirmed your every prejudice? The faithless, cowardly peasant? I risked Merlin so that you could learn. Don’t make it all for nothing.’
‘I… I don’t understand….’
‘You’re my knight, Bedevere, I depend upon you, and yet you deliberately put me in an untenable position. I need to be able my trust men.’
Bedevere was almost in tears.
‘You can. You can trust me!’
‘You made me risk Merlin!’
And Bedevere was breaking before his eyes.
‘That’s what it means to command, sending good men out to die for ridiculous reasons. As your father did….’ Arthur ended softly.
Bedevere turned his face away.
Arthur gave him a minute of or privacy before pulling him into a rough one-armed embrace. Bedevere raised glassy red eyes.
He stared at Arthur and suddenly leant forward and kissed him. And just as quickly withdrew.
‘God, I’m sorry. I just needed….’
‘Yeah, I know.’
And Arthur did. That feeling of vulnerability and the searching for comfort from those you trust.
‘You’ve had a bad day.’
Bedevere’s eyes crinkled in amusement. Arthur was sometimes excellent at stating the obvious.
‘I think I’ve been a worse prat than you.’
‘Yeah, but now that you’ve admitted it I’ve knocked a dozen points off your prat score,’ Arthur told him, ignoring his look of confusion, merely eyeing him speculatively. ‘So you’re not going to try to hurt Merlin or anything?’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘Revenge on the peasant?’
Sharp-clawed guilt clutched at Bedevere. He winced and lowered his eyes.
‘Please don’t. I was just … I don’t know. I’ve never said, but… it was a big thing for my family. That defeat. And then having to hand me over to Uther.
‘Mother was crying and Father was blaming the peasants and the knights and the servants. Anyone but himself, I suppose. It’s hard when you discover that this person you most admired and respected has feet of clay. The truth is that we weren’t strong enough to face Uther. Father was advised against it but went ahead anyway. He failed us all, and if those men hadn’t run they would probably have been slaughtered.’
All artifice and façade stripped away. Bedevere was exposed and naked, empty and waiting to be filled again. Arthur was stroking his hair as though comforting a child. Bedevere’s head fell on to Arthur’s shoulder. He would later deny that he was nestling into his prince.
‘It feels good to just let it all go. It’s eaten away at me for so long.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘But I’m glad, you know? Not that people got killed in a bloody battle that should never have happened. But that I ended up here.’
‘You’re a good man. A good man to have at my side.’
‘Then we’re going to be okay?’ Bedevere asked.
And now that he’d broken, Arthur could begin the delicate process of rebuilding him into something shining and new. A Camelot knight. His knight.
‘Yeah. More than okay,’ he confirmed.
Bedevere sighed in relief. He felt bone-tired, but he was Arthur’s knight so he found the strength to pull away and straighten up. Arthur’s hand fell away from his hair.
‘I should apologise to Merlin. I can’t believe he obeyed you though. I never realised you had that much power over him. Or that he acknowledged it.’
‘Power over Merlin? Are you joking? He rides roughshod over every part of my life. He’s outspoken, rude and more than happy to refuse to carry out my every command….’
‘Then why obey this one?’
Arthur shifted uncomfortably remembering the tactics he’d used.
‘I just made it clear that it was important to me.’
‘Arthur? Does he… have, uh, feelings for you?’
‘Good grief, no! He thinks I’m a complete prat. You know he keeps a prat score which goes up and down depending on how prattish he thinks I’ve been.’
The last remnants of tension disappeared as Bedevere burst into laughter.
‘He told you that?’
‘No, but I’ve heard him muttering occasionally when he’s adding or deducting the points. I’ve got sharp hearing and eventually worked out what he was doing.’
Bedevere was still chuckling.
‘I’d loved to have seen your face when you discovered that. So how are you doing?’
‘I think I’m probably up to about 90% again. I have a strategy though….’
‘When haven’t you? Go on. What is your devious plan?’
‘I’m going to break his system by being a 101% prat.’ Arthur explained with a self-satisfied grin, and Bedevere creased up in silent laughter.
…
Meanwhile the man in question was flinging himself up the steps to Gaius rooms and skidding to a halt, breathless and harried.
‘Merlin? Whatever is the matter?’
‘I….’
‘Spit it out, boy.’
‘I think Arthur knows that I’m magic,’ he blurted.
Gaius legs gave out. Luckily there was a three-legged stool conveniently placed to catch him. He sagged on to it and grabbed the edge of the work table, feeling the weight of every year of his life bearing down on his shoulders.
‘What have you done?’
‘Nothing! I didn’t do anything.’
Gaius lifted the dreaded eyebrow.
‘Honestly! Nothing! And it wasn’t my fault. And Arthur made me do it!’
That gave Gaius a little to work with.
‘Arthur made you do what?’
‘Fight Bedevere. With a stick!’
This still wasn’t particularly illuminating.
‘Why did he do that?’ Gaius asked in bewilderment.
‘Exactly!’ Merlin replied, gratified that his mentor had grasped the salient point so speedily.
‘Merlin,’ Gaius sighed, ‘it’s a question. Why would he do that?’
‘Because he’s an ass,’ Merlin explained.
‘So you’ve told me many, many times before. In great detail. But in this case I’d actually appreciate a little detail.’
‘Well I thought it was to teach Bedevere a lesson. But now I think it was to make me use magic….’
‘Merlin! You didn’t….’ His heart actually skipped a beat.
‘I was going to but…..’ He turned pink.
‘But what?’
‘But I didn’t, alright!’
‘So Bedevere beat you? Are you injured?’
Gaius surged to his feet and immediately put a finger to Merlin’s wrist. The pulse felt strong enough, if a trifle fast.
‘No! Gaius I won.’
‘But… how?’
Merlin wished he had some swashbuckling tale of skill and bravery.
‘I caught my foot in a rabbit hole, and kind of caught him with my stick as I fell. Now Arthur thinks I used magic….’
‘It does sound a little improbable. Are you sure that you didn’t accidentally…..’ Gaius made what was clearly meant to be a magical gesture.
‘Not unless epic clumsiness is part of my magic,’ Merlin said miserably.
‘Are you sure that Arthur knows? I mean, you’re here, aren’t you? If he knew then he’d be marching you to the dungeon at sword point. He’s not in the habit of letting sorcerers have free run of Camelot.’
‘Maybe he’s waiting for more proof.’
Gaius wished the boy had a better instinct for self preservation. Powerful magic had given him a misplaced sense of invulnerability, making him complacent and occasionally arrogant.
‘Then make sure you don’t give it too him. You must be more careful, Merlin.’
Merlin blinked and nodded as Gaius first shook him and then pulled him into a hug, his robe rough against Merlin’s cheek.
‘What am I going to do with you?’ he wondered.
‘I’ll try to be careful. I promise.’
Gaius supposed that was the best he could hope for.
…
The meeting with his father went no better and no worse than these things normally did. Which, given the morning he’d had, meant it proceeded considerably better than Arthur had dared hope.
Uther was currently informing him who would be invited to court, why they were needed, who Arthur would be expected to charm and who responded better to Uther’s veiled threats. Arthur took in the bare bones and then began to just nod along.
‘Arthur! Are you even listening to me?’
‘Of course, father.’
‘Hector and Romford tell me that training is going well.’
Arthur stiffened at Hector’s name, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Despite Hector’s words, he had been Uther’s knight first. He only gradually relaxed when nothing further was said.
‘They’re getting there,’ he replied noncommittally.
‘Good. I need you and your knights to carry out a sweep of the forest. We have bandits waylaying travellers, threatening their lives and stealing their valuables. The routes to Camelot must be kept safe. It reflects badly on us if we cannot even guarantee safe passage through our own forests.’
Nothing about keeping people safe, Arthur noted.
‘I’ll see to it tomorrow.’
‘Very good. Report back to me and let me know what you find.’
Arthur left word for the knights that they would be required in the afternoon. He’d brief them in the morning session. For now he was just happy to return to his room and close the door on a long and stressful day.
Merlin was waiting for him inside and a quick glance around told him that there was nothing obvious he could pick fault with. He gave a dissatisfied sigh, feeling out of sorts and not even able to legitimately pick on Merlin.
Actually, Merlin was unusually silent, and uncharacteristically quick and efficient at disrobing him. The temperature of the bath was perfect when he sank back into it.
This was better. Provided he avoided thinking about anything at all, then Arthur was fairly content. He closed his eyes to Merlin’s anxious hovering.
‘Do you need anything else?’ Merlin asked.
He thought about asking him to wash his hair. He felt tired and stiff and loath to move.
Although he was scrupulously refusing to think about Merlin and his… luckiness, it occurred to Arthur that allowing Merlin to carry out such a personal duty might be a way of showing trust. Besides, he loved the feeling of fingers dragging over his scalp.
Then he weighed it against this being Merlin.
‘Do you think you could soap my hair without getting suds in my eyes?’ he asked, opening one eye to observe Merlin’s response.
‘Yes?’ Merlin replied uncertainly.
The fact that it was a question didn’t inspire confidence. There again he had to learn how to do it sometime. There were days Arthur was so stiff that he couldn’t even lift his arm that high, and he refused to expose that sort of vulnerability to any other servant.
‘Okay. Go for it.’
Merlin approached tentatively and kneeled down next to the tub. Arthur was lying naked, awaiting his touch. His eyes were closed, and he looked utterly relaxed.
There was so much of a intimate nature that Arthur required from his manservant. Sometimes Merlin thought it would drive him insane. But this was the worst by far. His heart was stuttering and his hands were shaking. He had permission to touch him, was required to touch him, to work fingers through spun-gold hair.
Carefully shielding Arthur’s face with a hand to his forehead, he poured warm water over his hair. And then he slowly worked up a lather from the soap.
‘Really, Merlin. My hair won’t wash itself.’
‘Ass,’ he replied automatically.
But it did the trick and Merlin swept fingers through the wet, clinging tendrils and went to work.
It felt fantastic. Arthur could feel tension draining away as powerful fingers massaged his scalp. It felt so good that he was virtually purring, a soft contented moan from deep in his throat.
The noises that Arthur was making were doing strange things to Merlin. He concentrated on tenderly catching stray trails of soap from his forehead and cheeks, wiping them away before they could reach mouth or eyes, and couldn’t help smiling softly as he watched Arthur relax into his touch. It was intimate and sweet.
Maybe this crescendo of feeling was merely the euphoria of realising that whether Arthur knew about his magic or not, everything still seemed normal between them. More than normal. It was good. It was perfect. Arthur was virtually unravelling beneath his fingers…. Merlin stroked a finger over the curve of his cheek, pretending to chase a non-existant path of soap. He was sure Arthur had noticed, would open his eyes and say something....
And then the door banged open.
‘Merlin. Leave.’ Came the imperious demand.
‘Uh, Morgana?’ Merlin stuttered
And Arthur was in the bath, hair soaped up, eyes wide and with an expression veering between startled and outraged.
‘For godsake! I’m trying to bathe! What is the matter with you, woman? Would you please….’
‘I said go, Merlin,’ she commanded again.
Merlin’s eyes swivelled to Arthur.
‘He’s not going anywhere. Merlin, would you please get me a towel’ he pleaded feeling exposed and at a disadvantage.
He turned furious eyes back to Morgana. ‘You, however, can leave. You cannot just come bursting in on me. You could at least pretend to some modesty even if you lack all other ladylike qualities.’
‘And you could at least pretend to care for people in your service,’ she shot back.
Thankfully a towel was pushed into his hands, because he very much needed to stand and he’d prefer not to give Morgana an eyeful. He wrapped the towel around his hips attempting to retain some decency.
‘How dare you tell me that I don’t care!’
‘You sent Merlin out there, to face one of your armed flunkies with nothing but a stick, Arthur! I mean, what the hell were you thinking? Anything could have happened.’
Arthur strode behind his screen.
‘Clothes, Merlin,’ he ordered, quickly scrubbing the towel over his skin. Merlin rushed around clutching clean trousers and shirt.
‘What the hell business is it of yours how I command my servant?’
‘So you did command him to do it!’
Even her footsteps sounded furious - quick and sharp. And they were heading towards the screen.
‘If you dare come around here, I’ll tell father….’
‘Isn’t that just like you? Spoilt brat running to daddy,’ she sneered.
Merlin was fairly sure he wasn’t invisible, seeing as he was currently helping Arthur to step into his trousers, but he certainly felt like he was. He should have followed Morgana’s first instruction and left when he had the chance.
‘I never knew you were that desperate to see me naked,’ Arthur’s voice smoothed to silk, ‘all you had to do was ask.’
There was a momentary pause and then a deep breath.
‘Really Arthur, must you descend into juvenility?’
‘Nothing juvenile here, I assure you. Is there Merlin?’
Merlin kept his head down and his mouth shut. Perhaps invisibility would be preferable, after all.
‘Although I understand why you’ve paused. Seeing me in all my glory would be enough to make any girl swoon dead away.’
The smirk in his voice was painfully obvious, and was guaranteed to drive Morgana insane.
‘You’re insufferable! I’ll never understand how you can fit a helmet on to a head that size. Does the smithy have to make it for you as a special order? Why Merlin puts up with you I’ll never know.’
The moisture lingering on his skin wasn’t helping, but finally they got the shirt over his head. Arthur stepped out and gave Morgana a brittle but brilliant smile.
‘Merlin puts up with me because I’m completely gorgeous,’ he replied.
His clothes moulded damply to his skin, his face was flushed from the hot water and his hair was weirdly sculpted by soap. Even like that, he was still oddly appealing. Merlin thought Arthur’s point had some merit. Morgana begged to differ,
‘Merlin is too amenable for his own good, and you’re taking advantage of that. Didn’t you learn your lesson with Bernadette?’
Arthur stilled. Eyes turned flinty and his lips whitened. The smile didn’t exactly fall as morph into something that looked more like a snarl.
Morgana took a small step backward but continued to meet his gaze, lifting her head challengingly.
‘Thank you for the reminder, dear Morgana. Obviously I was in danger of forgetting that… lesson.’ His voice dripped with icy disdain.
‘You think I go too far, but I would go further if it would just make you see.’
‘I see perfectly well, but thank you for your kind concern. Your advice has been duly noted. You may go.’
Blood red lips curled in contempt.
‘You disappoint me, I expected better of you.’
On that note she swept back out of the door.
Merlin had so many questions but when Arthur met his eyes there was old hurt lingering in their depths.
It was Arthur who spoke first.
‘You can go. I must join father for dinner.’
Merlin looked at him and the ducktail peaks still caught in his hair. He reached out a hand towards it, but froze when Arthur flinched away.
‘It’s just that you need to rinse first,’ he explained quickly.
He wanted so badly to return to the easiness they had before Morganna burst in. He wanted permission to touch. Instead he let his hand drop to his side, as Arthur’s own hand involuntarily flew to his hair.
‘Oh.’
‘Do you want me to help?’
The moment had passed and Arthur shook his head, but his eyes looked so damned sad.
Merlin needed to fix this. But first he had to find out what scab Morgana had cruelly picked at when mentioning that name. Bernadette. Whoever she was, he hated her already.
It was clear he would learn nothing from Arthur so he just gave a reassuring smile.
‘Right. I’ll see you in the morning then.’
There was no answer.
Merlin hadn’t really expected one.
He took advantage of his early dismissal to join Gaius, begging some meat and cheese from the kitchen first.
‘Here.’
Warm bread was balanced on top of his loot. A bright smile and coy look accompanied it.
Merlin smiled his thanks. It was always a good idea to be polite to the kitchen maids and cooks.
When Gaius came in he found his work table cleared and a feast laid out.
‘What’s this in aid of? What have you done now?’ he asked suspiciously. ‘Oh, Merlin you haven’t been doing magic again, have you?’
‘Of course not!’ Merlin replied in an offended tone. ‘It’s just to say thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘For everything?’
Gaius weighed this up and then smiled.
‘Well in that case,’ he said sitting at the table and reaching for a slice of meat, ‘let’s not allow it to go to waste, eh?’
Merlin gave him a blazing smile and began enthusiastically tucking in.
‘So Morgana came to see Arthur this evening.’
‘Yes?’ Gaius replied, reaching for the bread and breaking off a portion. He made a contented noise as he bit into it.
Merlin guessed that there was never going to be a better time.
‘Yeah well, Arthur acted all strange when she mentioned a name. Bernadette.’
Gaius didn’t quite break into a coughing fit but it was close thing.
‘What did Arthur do to make Morgana mention that?’
‘Nothing. She wasn’t happy that he’d made me fight Bedevere. Said he should have learnt his lesson after Bernadette, or something like that.’
‘Oh that was cruel.’
He decided not to beat about the bush. Gaius always saw through his attempts at being subtle so he may as well plunge straight in.
‘So what’s the story then?’
‘No Merlin. It’s an old story and I’m not going to gossip.’
Well that was a bit much. Gaius could gossip like a woman when it suited him.
‘But who was she?’ Merlin persisted.
‘No one. She worked at the castle for a while.’
‘Okay, so she was a servant. Why did she leave?’
‘Eat your cheese, Merlin. And stop prying.’
Well it was better than nothing.
Merlin didn’t sleep well. His fertile imagination concocted a million Bernadette stories. In the end he convinced himself that Arthur had loved her and Uther had disapproved, had her beheaded and buried her bones deep in the castle vaults.
At least not sleeping meant he was awake when the sun rose. When he served breakfast it was at breakfast time, so Arthur could have no reason to complain. Although reason had never stopped the prince before.
‘God, Merlin. Could you be any noisier?’ groaned a disembodied voice from beneath Arthur’s quilt.
‘Probably,’ Merlin replied and noisily clanked the covers from the food as though it had been a request.
‘Aargh!’
‘You’re welcome.’
Arthur gradually emerged from beneath the covers as the smell of bacon and roast beef wafted through the air. Merlin was already beginning to pick at the food, and Arthur knew from experience that if he lay abed much longer he’d be left with nothing but the coddled eggs.
He blearily seated himself at the table. Merlin poured him some fresh water and then stepped behind him as though he were a proper servant.
‘Oh, just sit down and help yourself. You know that’s what’s going to happen anyway.’
Merlin grinned and settled happily next to him.
‘Just don’t eat all the bacon,’ Arthur warned ominously.
And because Merlin was so happy that Arthur was speaking to him, and behaving normally again, he amiably redirected his fork and scooped up a coddled egg instead.
Only as the meal progressed did Merlin notice that everything was more stilted than usual. Even the insults that normally ran so naturally between them sounded forced. Finally, Arthur abruptly pushed his chair back, having eaten only half of his usual amount
‘I’ll need my horse at midday,’ he informed Merlin.
Hunting?’
‘Bandits.’
‘I suppose that means there won’t be time for our practice session?’ Merlin asked hopefully.
‘I wouldn’t dream of disappointing you. For you, Merlin, I’ll make time.’
Arthur guessed that would be another prat point to the score and so gave him a cheerful look.
Merlin flashed him a half-hearted smile that lasted a second and never touched his eyes.
But despite the fact that it was weapons training, he was actually flattered that Arthur wanted to spend time with him despite whatever weirdness was going on. Yes, it was normally embarrassing, sometimes painful and usually left his ears ringing, but…. He forgot what his point was, because now he thought about it properly, he remembered that he really hated weapons training.
The only redeeming feature was Arthur’s attention would be focused solely on Merlin. Yeah, so Merlin had long since realised he had a thing for his oblivious prince. But Arthur’s taste seemed to run to powerful knights, not skinny menservants, so he took whatever he was allowed.
Arthur left for his early training session with Romford. He always had at least an hour before the others joined him. As hard as he worked the men, he worked himself even harder.
Merlin was doing his chores when there was a knock at the door.
‘Arthur’s not here,’ he called.
The door opened anyway, and he immediately stopped using magic As a result he was suddenly hit with the full weight of a tub full of water.
‘It was you I wanted to see, actually.’
And there was Bedevere looking heavy-eyed and unhappy.
‘Oh here. Let me give you a hand with that,’ he offered as he saw that Merlin was struggling.
He took one edge of the bath and helped to tip yesterday’s bath water out of the window.
‘Thanks,’ Merlin said, but cocked a curious eyebrow.
‘Oh. Hmm. Just wanted to apologise for yesterday.’
‘Okay,’ Merlin said encouragingly.
‘So yes. Right. I’m sorry. It should never have happened.’
Merlin could be gracious, and he honestly held no hard feelings towards this young knight.
‘Apology accepted,’ Merlin said and smiled at him brightly. ‘Would you care for some breakfast?’
Bedevere looked at the substantial remains of Arthur’s uneaten meal. He hadn’t had the heart for breakfast earlier, but now that he’d made his apology, he thought maybe he could eat a morsel or two
‘I don’t want to take it if you were planning to….’ He swept a hand at the food.
‘Oh no. I ate with Arthur this morning.’
‘You did?’ Bedevere wouldn’t dream of sharing his breakfast with his servant. It was most irregular. He found himself wondering about Arthur and Merlin, and Gawain’s speculation.
He helped himself to a hunk of beef, and Merlin passed him the water jug.
‘I’m sorry too.’ Merlin said. ‘I don’t really know what happened and it wasn’t fair that you were beaten like that, you know, by me.’
‘That’s the nature of battle. It’s not logical and it’s not science. The purpose of our skill is to mitigate what chance throws at us. However much we practice, we cannot tame or leash chance.’
‘I never thought of it like that,’ Merlin replied with a frown because that implied that the best swordsman didn’t always win, which in turn had implications for Arthur.
‘We’re not all complete blockheads you know. One or two of us are occasionally capable of the odd profound thought.’
Merlin blushed. He did tend to equate their brute strength with stupidity.
‘I’m sorry. I have no right to judge….’
‘We all have our prejudices. It’s the duty of friends to open their eyes to them.’
‘Are we… friends?’ Merlin asked slowly.
Bedevere reached for a slab of bacon and chewed it thoughtfully.
‘I don’t see why not. I can understand your hesitance but I hope we can get past yesterday’s, uh, misunderstanding.’
‘I suppose we can do that.’
‘Excellent!’
In the spirit of friendship, Merlin joined him at the table.
‘I wonder if you can tell me something…?’
‘You can only ask.’
‘About Arthur. Something that happened in the past. It was to do with a woman.’
‘Ah. You’ve heard the palace gossip, I take it?’
‘Not exactly. It was something Morgana said.’
‘Well, if it was to do with a woman then it was probably…. Well, it’s common knowledge that he fell prey to a scheming lady. Seduced him when he was little more than a boy, if that’s what you meant?’
‘Uh, I don’t know.’
‘Fifteenth birthday to be exact. Oh this bacon is delicious,' He reached for another bit. 'Suppose she had to at least wait for that to have any sort of credibility. Fifteen is young but fourteen would have been unconscionable. That small spark of honour was her downfall though.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Merlin admitted ‘I haven’t heard any of this.’
‘She was already with child,’ Bedevere explained, ‘but left it too long to lay with Arthur if she wished people to believe it was his. She gave birth eight weeks early to a large, healthy babe.
‘It was before my time but apparently there was hell over her. She was the granddaughter of some minor lord, and Arthur was set on doing the honorable thing. Naturally she was urging for a quick marriage. Well, you can imagine how Uther took that. Luckily, the child was born before they were wed. Everyone realised that she’d tried to dupe the Prince and she was quickly married off to some farmer.’
'Oh. How awful.'
His heart went out to that young idealistic boy. The hurt of that betrayal. The scorn of those who judged him. But Merlin realised that this was not the woman Morgana had alluded to.
‘So she wasn’t a servant then?’
‘No.’
‘Oh. The one I meant was called Bernadette.’
‘That one was even worse,’ Bedevere sighed. ‘I don’t really know the details. No one talks about it much. But it was after that incident that Arthur was called to face the king and had what must have been the singularly most embarrassing conversation of his life.’
‘Really? What happened?’
‘The story I heard was that the king had had enough of Arthur’s philandering. He didn’t want any bastards running around the court muddying future succession. He told Arthur that the next woman he took to his bed would be his wife. A choice of marriage or…. Well…. The king informed Arthur that there was pleasure to be found with men….’
‘Uther said that?’ Merlin was squirming at the embarrassment quotient of such a conversation. He’d never felt so sorry for Arthur in his life.
‘It got worse. Arthur didn’t know what he meant, so the king had to spell it out for him.’
Merlin’s mouth dropped in horror.
‘That's... that's....' Words deserted him. 'Did Arthur tell you all this?’
‘Good god, no. But even a private family conversation still requires guards on the door. Between us all we know pretty much everything that happens here.’
Merlin had never considered that before, but it made sense.
‘So what did Arthur say? When Uther gave his ultimatum?’
Bedevere’s pulled a face.
‘I believe he was speechless. The king took pity on him in the end and gave him permission to leave.’
And that explained why Merlin had never seen him with a woman. Merlin had the answer to a question that he hadn’t asked, but was still no further forward with his original one.
‘But Bernadette? I mean, you must know something?’
‘I’m afraid not. I’m glad you’ve forgiven me, I’m sure we’ll be great friends, but I have to go. Arthur will be waiting.’
Merlin had the impression that he’d pushed his new friendship too far. Bedevere’s first loyalty would always be to the Prince, and that was as it should be.
He returned to his chores, clearing plates, picking up clothes, raking out the fire and setting a new one. It had all become remarkably routine, and he was able to whizz through most of it. Which left him time to find Gwen.
Good old Gwen.
Dependable Gwen.
Surely she would be willing to tell him what he wanted to know.
…
‘No, Merlin.’
‘No?’
He was taken aback, Gwen never told him no. And she was so definite, none of her amusing babble of half statements and contradictions.
‘But…. I need to know!’
Gwen gazed at him steadily.
‘I can understand you’re curious, but why would you need to know?’
‘So that I can fix it! You didn’t see him. When Morgana mentioned that name… the look on his face….’
‘I did see him. I saw the look the first time around. It’s very sweet of you, but you can’t fix it, Merlin.’
‘Did Uther have her killed?’
‘What? No, of course not! Whoever told you that?’
Merlin turned pink and muttered something intelligible.
‘Pardon?’
‘I said no one.’
Gwen stood, arms crossed, foot tapping as she awaited further explanation
‘Gaius says I have too much imagination. It runs away with me,’ Merlin admitted sheepishly. ‘If you would just tell me something, it would really help.’
Gwen sighed but was unable to completely resist him. He was so sweet and nice and it wasn’t really gossiping….
‘She was my friend, Merlin, and she was lovely. Bright and cheerful and beautiful. Arthur saw her and fell for her. It should never have happened, but the prince is very handsome and charming, and just being a prince is enough to turn a girl’s head… I know you’ll think I’m silly, but it’s like the title is magic or an enchantment or something. Bernadette knew she shouldn’t do it, but when he turned his eyes in her direction she couldn’t help herself. She wasn’t bad or evil or anything but then it all turned into one huge mess!’ Gwen finished.
‘But why?’
However, Gwen was clearly distressed and brushing roughly at her eyes.
‘It’s okay. I’m sorry,’ he whispered and put an arm around her comfortingly.
‘I have to go,’ she sniffed and attempted a watery smile to show that she was okay. Which just served to make Merlin feel even worse.
He was left to ponder his unique ability to chase away friends, both old and new. But despite this, he was still determined to get to the bottom of what happened. Except he was now left with two souces of information. Neither choice was good.
Morgana. Or Arthur.
His gulp was audible.
Part 4