Fic: In Joy and Woe, as in a Doubtful Ease (2/7)
Part One
The following morning, Merlin arrived in Arthur’s chambers just as he and Gwen were finishing breakfast. There was an awkward silence, Merlin standing in the doorway, looking anywhere but at the two of them. Arthur studiously ignored the man’s discomfort, keeping his attention on the last of his food.
It was Gwen who broke the stalemate. “Come, Merlin,” she said, gesturing to the table. “Have something.” Her tone was completely even and relaxed, as though nothing embarrassing had occurred the previous night.
Her behavior seemed to be just what Merlin needed, because he did indeed sit down to join them, helping himself to a piece of bread and a scoop of preserves. Arthur rolled his eyes. Not long ago, Merlin had never even bothered to wait to be asked to have some, simply snatching bites from Arthur’s plate with a teasing grin. Apparently, Gwen inspired Merlin to remember his manners.
She didn’t remain long after that, leaving them alone to go oversee the continuing reconstruction in the lower town. “Take Elyan or one of the other knights with you,” Arthur called after her. He knew that no one of Camelot would dream of harming Gwen - many of the residents had known her since she was a nurseling - but there was always the chance of assassins. Morgana was still at large, was good at disguising herself, and had shown herself to be especially hostile to Gwen. He couldn’t dismiss the possibility that Morgana might seek to kill Gwen even now, and a knife in the ribs could be just as fatal as magic.
Once Arthur and Merlin had both finished their meal, they moved over to Arthur’s desk. There were several parchments there from the night before, as well as a few new ones that had arrived that morning. As Merlin started shuffling through them, Arthur skimmed through the letter drafts Merlin had left for him. Taking up a quill, he made a few notes on them, crossing out a few things and adding something different, underlining a few passages that were acceptable for use.
“What do you think?” Merlin asked.
Arthur glanced up at him, and then back down at the drafts. “Not bad,” he said grudgingly. “A bit preachy, which I’ll fix, but you’re definitely getting better at this.”
Merlin just beamed at him, as though Arthur had paid him the highest compliment in the world. Arthur tried not to roll his eyes. Honestly, Merlin could be such a girl sometimes, always lighting up under the faintest of praise.
He settled himself more deeply into his chair and began writing. He made certain to keep the tone of his letters polite but firm, having no intention of being seen to beg for the assistance of his allies. A request coupled with the offer of remuneration, on the other hand, was perfectly acceptable in the eyes of any reasonable person.
Arthur wrote out three copies of the letter, all with virtually the same proposals, though he made sure to couple that with a few sentences regarding matters of importance tailored to each of the recipients. When he was finished, he muttered, “Now who to take them?”
Merlin heard him. “Elyan would probably be a good person to send,” he suggested. Arthur thought on that a moment, and then agreed. Elyan had shown himself to be fairly diplomatic when he had to be, and as the brother of Camelot's new Queen, no one could accuse Arthur of sending someone of low importance.
He nodded. “Elyan can take one to Caerleon,” he said, “and Leon can take one to Olaf’s kingdom.” Leon was of high birth, the son of a wealthy lord, albeit a younger son. That just left Lord Godwyn, but Arthur wasn’t too worried about him. Godwyn himself had imposed fewer restrictions on who could join the knights who served him than Camelot, and as such, many of his knights were from the lower classes. Arthur could send anyone and Godwyn would welcome them. “Sir Samuel can go to Lord Godwyn,” he finally added. Samuel was the son of a minor baron, and had proven himself to be as devoted to Camelot as anyone.
He carefully folded the parchments and closed them with melted wax and his seal. With that finished, Arthur set them aside. There were plenty of other matters to attend to before he joined the knights on the training field later on that morning. Merlin, thankfully, had put everything into order before he’d placed them in front of him, so Arthur was able to get through them with relative quickness.
Solstone
I have been at Solstone a month now, and I have to say, it is not horrible at all. I still miss Tintagel, but it is the longing for home, and not necessarily the desire to return to the way things were there. I’ve found that I enjoy interacting with my aunt and uncle, and receiving a significant amount of their attention. It is also rather interesting to have someone like Tristan around. Vivienne and I have never had a brother, or any other male presence in our life except for our father, and he has proven himself quite the pest, often playing japes upon the two of us and his own twin. Ygraine, it seems, doesn’t hesitate to retaliate, and prevails upon the two of us to assist her.
Agravaine, however, has proven to be different from the rest of his family in more than appearance. Though he is nothing but polite to all of us, and respectful to his father, there doesn’t seem to be any true warmth in his eyes when he interacts with any of us. Very strange.
I have news. Over our evening meal, my uncle announced that we have tarried at Solstone long enough, and will be traveling to Brieland within the week. Tristan was thrilled, as it would mean that the training of the new knights will begin, and he has been deemed ready to join them. Agravaine was as unaffected as ever, but assured his father that he would be ready. Ygraine nearly bounced out of her chair in excitement, promising that she would show Vivienne and I all of the secret areas of the castle in Brieland, which prompted Ygrisa to scold her daughter for behaving intemperately, though I don’t think she meant it entirely as she was smiling a little as she said it.
After the meal ended, my uncle asked me to join him in his study, as he had something he wished to discuss with me. Leaving Ygrisa to herd the others elsewhere, I followed him. Once we were seated, he began to say that he was quite pleased with my academic progress. Vivienne and I had joined Ygraine with her tutor not long after we arrived at Solstone, and had found ourselves moving at a much more rapid pace than we were accustomed to at home, but had managed to find out feet.
I thanked him, as I was quite proud of myself for learning so quickly the things that Ygraine’s tutor had taught us. The man, Howland, is a stern man, one who believes that a woman’s mind is best kept occupied by rigorous educational standards, and not just from “fripperies” like needlework. He teaches us about the complexities of household management, and even has us practice in ledgers he provides for us. He expects us to keep the knowledge fresh in our minds, as it is something we will need to do once we are married to great lords who will expect us to keep their households in perfect working order. Howland has little patience for any type of sloth on our parts, and even less for Vivienne’s complaining, as she dislikes dealing with numbers the most of all. After one bout of grumbling, he quite testily informed her that men of good sense do not want stupid or useless wives. Implying that she might be stupid was probably the best thing he could have done. For all her dislike of numbers, Vivienne thinks highly of her intelligence. Now she focuses on her work, if only to spite Howland.
It was very well done, masterfully so, I think.
My uncle then went on to explain that he felt that as the oldest twin and my status as the Princess of Cornwall, I required additional tutoring. When I came of age, I would be expected to take up the active ruling of my kingdom. Even if I had a husband by then, it was very likely that my lords would not react well to my allowing my consort to rule in my stead. Unless I was prepared to take on the responsibilities involved, Cornwall could descend into civil war.
His declaration surprised me. I’ve known, intellectually, that I am the Princess of Cornwall, despite my age. I suppose I’d never really thought about what it meant. I am the ruler of Cornwall, even if I’m not yet at an age where I am able to govern myself. Ruling a country, and ruling it well, keeping it safe from the aggression of others will definitely require more than what I am learning from Howland, even if what he has taught is a good beginning.
I looked to Aglovale and asked him what he proposed for this situation I was in. He appeared pleased with my answer. He proposed that I spend several hours with him each day, learning how he managed his lands and people. He would go about his duties, and I would watch and observe, taking notes where I had questions, and later in private, I would ask those questions and he would answer them. We would then adjust our situation as needed from then on when needed.
Howland said that men do not like stupid women. Well, I’d be a stupid woman indeed to turn down such an offer.
The letters were sent out the following morning, each of the three messengers setting out with a single companion. They would travel more quickly and easily without a large escort. It was the last Arthur thought about it for the next week.
In an odd trick of fate, Elyan, Leon, and Samuel all returned on the same day, and all bearing responses. Arthur read them alone in his chambers, which were rather cluttered - Edgar’s skills as a manservant still left something to be desired, even with Merlin tutoring him on how to handle himself.
Phrases cluttered Arthur’s mind as he read the replies, all warring for dominance.
… compliment you on having the gumption to ask for help. Certainly your father would have rather seen his people starve than ask someone, even his allies, for assistance…
… crops have been good these past few years, so there’s plenty for us to spare. Elena sends you her greetings and hopes you are well…
… was pleased to hear of your marriage…
Annis was as blunt as ever. In the letters Arthur had been exchanging with her since the disastrous business with her late husband, she had never bothered with things like delicacy or diplomacy. She never hesitated to point out any flaws she saw, whether it was in him or in his father. It was something Arthur had slowly come to appreciate, since so few people were wholly honest with him.
Godwyn was as pleasant as ever, and he was glad that Elena was well too.
That Olaf was happy to hear of Arthur’s marriage was something of a relief. Whatever enchantment had been placed on both him and Vivian had lasted longer with the lady than it had with Arthur, but it had, thankfully, faded. If it hadn’t, Arthur was fairly certain that his father wouldn’t have hesitated to point out to Olaf that magic had clearly been involved in Arthur and Vivian’s intemperate behavior and that Alined had been distinctly displeased by the treaty. Olaf would have almost certainly declared war, treaty or not.
Still, what relieved Arthur the most was that all three contained one similar piece of information - they’d all agreed to his proposed exchange. Camelot would have food in exchange for gold and metals. That was definitely a cause for celebration.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when there was an urgent knock on his door. Arthur looked up. “Come,” he called.
The door opened hurriedly, revealing one of the page boys. The child bowed hurriedly and piped out in a high-pitched tone, “Sire, a large party of armed men has been spotted on the road. They’re not a mile from Camelot.” He said it all in such a hurry that Arthur had to pause a moment to let the entire message think in. He stood up quickly and grabbed his sword before striding out of the room.
Arthur jogged toward the battlements overlooking the road. Leon and Percival were already there, the former staring out through the lens of the spyglass in his hands. Arthur followed their gaze. Just as the boy said, there was a party approaching Camelot. He couldn’t make out the identification of their banners, but he could see that they were clad in deep blue and grey, a color combination he was unfamiliar with. “What do you see, Leon?” Arthur demanded.
“There are a dozen armed knights, Sire,” Leon reported. “They’re protecting two covered wagons. I cannot see what they might be transporting.”
“Their colors?”
Leon didn’t respond immediately, but Arthur could see the furrow deepening on the other man’s brow. “It’s… something blue… a fish of some kind? Yes, a fish with a golden cliff behind it and…” Leon lowered the spyglass, his eyes huge with surprise. He stared at Arthur. “Cornwall, Sire. They’re knights of Cornwall.”
Arthur’s eyes widened in shock. He quickly took the spyglass and held it up, training it on the party that was steadily coming closer. Yes, just as Leon had said, a blue fish and a golden cliff, with an embroidered ‘C’ woven into the image.
Cornwall.
Brieland
Brieland is very different from Solstone. It isn’t just a castle, a manor house for the family to reside in, but a castle with a town around it, full to the brim of people who live under Aglovale’s protection and rule. The castle doesn’t just house Aglovale’s family and servants, but also a contingent of knights, infantry, and other members of his military.
There is also much more ceremony at Brieland. When a distinguished visitor comes, the entire family is expected to greet him, much as the family greeted Vivienne and me. Just today, two men came to visit my uncle, a Lord Aurelius and his brother, Lord Uther. Both men were tall, taller than most of the others in the Great Hall. Apparently, my uncle is acquainted with these men, for he greeted them with great ceremony and affection. The rest of the family also seems to have met them in the past, because Aglovale only bothered to formally introduce them to my sister and me, passing over his daughter and sons. Both Aurelius and Uther were polite, bowing to us.
When the two lords and my uncle left us, Ygrisa dismissed the rest of us to return to our lessons. As I accompanied Vivienne and Ygraine back to our schoolroom, where Howland waited to inflict more lessons on us, Vivienne lost no time in asking Ygraine about the visiting lords.
“They’re Romans,” were the first words out of Ygraine’s mouth, and she sounded incredibly awed by the statement. Apparently, the two men were the sons of a Lord Constantine, one of the last generals sent by the Romans to keep peace in Britain (that is the name the Romans give Albion - I much prefer our own), though he did not long command the legions before they were called back to Rome. He made do with what he had, though, and was able to call together the various kingdoms to stand united against the invading Saxons. Eventually, though, Lord Constantine and his eldest son, Constans, were murdered under mysterious circumstances (some say by Saxon assassins, others by jealous allies), and his younger sons, Aurelius and Uther, would have suffered the same fate were it not for a few faithful servants. They spirited the two boys away into the north, taking them to the care of King Cador, of the house of Tregor. They’ve since grown up of course, and now both men are seeking to reclaim that which was their father’s by right.
Addendum: I met with Aglovale after supper this evening for one of his lessons. I was surprised to be summoned to him, since I’d thought that he would be busy entertaining and speaking with his guests, but apparently my uncle trusted his wife to amuse them while he spoke with me.
“Lord Aurelius is looking for a wife,” he told me just as I was sitting down with him. He didn’t try to break such news gently, just blurted it out.
I froze. A wife?! I was thirteen years old, and had only begun to experience my moon’s blood just before I came to live with him and his family. Vivienne hasn’t even begun hers yet! Lord Aurelius was twenty-five, at the very least! I know that such things are normal for women of my station, to be married off at an early age, but still, to have the subject even broached was shocking.
Fortunately, Aglovale put me out of my misery. He told me that Aurelius was planning on asking King Cador for the hand of one of his daughters, Alyx or Catrina, who were nineteen and seventeen. He had no desire to bed a child bride, whatever her dowry.
“Still,” he said, “you were obviously surprised by such news, and it showed on your face, my dear.” He told me that as a ruler, I must, above all, control my emotions and not let them spread across my face for everyone to see. Discerning people will see them, and use them against me if they can. Not all of my enemies will be stupid fools, after all.
He is right, of course. I know that, but the marriage idea is a strange one that still lingers. I will have to marry one day, as will Vivienne. We will have to marry for the good of Cornwall, myself especially. If that involves marrying a man old enough to be my own sire and bear his children, then I will have to do so. My fate is no different than that of any other noble girl, even if I am the princess of my own country. If such a marriage will benefit Cornwall, then I must do it, and do it with a smile on my face.
Arthur ordered a contingent of guards and knights to meet the approaching company, to ascertain their purpose for coming to Camelot, and to make sure that there were no soldiers within the wagons seeking to slip into the citadel and take it by surprise. Painful experience had taught Arthur to be cautious.
In the meantime, Arthur had called for the court to assemble. There was no time to make use of the throne room, which he would have preferred to use under such circumstances. For longer than Arthur had been alive, Cornwall had been closed to Camelot, exchanging no ambassadors, no treaties, nothing. It was a land Arthur knew little about, and in fact only recognized the standard because of the diligent study his father had insisted he make as a boy of all the kingdoms and their marks.
Why were they here, he wondered. Cornwall had been silent for decades, why change that now? Hopefully, he’d soon find out.
Percival and Leon led the head of the delegation into the chamber, approaching Arthur on his throne at a quick pace. Gwen sat silently beside him, her own chair having only recently been brought out of storage. Merlin stood just behind his right shoulder, which had become his accustomed place the past several weeks.
Leon and Percival joined the ranks of their fellow knights, leaving the delegation’s head to face Arthur alone. He examined the man. He was tall and dark-haired, with deep green eyes. His tunic was dust-covered, as one would expect from someone who had been traveling, but he still cut an impressive figure.
The knight came to a halt in front of him and bowed deeply. “Your Majesty,” he said, his voice deep, but pleasant, “I am Sir Bedwyr, knight of Cornwall. I come with the good wishes of Cornwall, and a message from our Lady-Regent.”
“Indeed, Sir Bedwyr?” Arthur replied. “This is very much a surprise. Camelot has not had business with Cornwall in many years, though we welcome you most heartily. What message does your lady have for us?”
The knight bowed again and held up a folded parchment. Arthur could see the lump of wax used to close it, but could not make out the details of the seal. Merlin stepped forward, his hand out, and Bedwyr gave him the parchment. Merlin then stepped back and handed the parchment over to Arthur. Looking down at the document, Arthur carefully slid his finger under one of the loose ends and slid it toward the wax. Working at it carefully, the wax came loose, allowing him to unfold the parchment. Once it was fully opened, Arthur began to read the message, which was written in an elegant, feminine hand.
To Arthur, son of Uther and Ygraine, King of Camelot, the Lady-Regent of Cornwall offers her country’s greetings.
It being many years since our two kingdoms have engaged in commerce and communication and having heard lately of Camelot’s troubles at the hands of the renegade warlord, Helios, and the traitor, Morgana, we of Cornwall felt it time to put aside past grudges and hurts in the name of cooperation and friendship.
It has also come to our attention that Camelot is in need of certain foodstuffs and supplies to help overcome the troubles recently visited upon you. The harvests of Cornwall have been bountiful these past several summers, and thus it is in our power to gift supplies to you in token of our hope to renew the ties between our two kingdoms.
The leader of our embassy, Sir Bedwyr, has been empowered by us to begin these negotiations with you. It is Cornwall’s hope that this can be a new beginning between us.
As a further token of our esteem, we wish to formally invite you and a party of your choice to visit us in Tintagel, the center of government and commerce in Cornwall. All formality and rules of hospitality are hereby invoked and will be adhered to.
Yours in friendship and sincerity,
The Lady-Regent of Cornwall
Well, Arthur thought, that was unexpected.
Brieland
All of Brieland has been turned upside down for the preparations for Ygraine and Tristan’s fifteenth birthday celebration. Nearly everything was scrubbed down, the Great Hall was decorated, and the kitchens had the most delicious aromas wafting from it. Unfortunately, no one could get in to get an early taste of the feast, because every time someone tried, Cook chased them out, swearing loudly and cracking knuckles with one of her many ladles. I suspect Cook wouldn’t have hesitated to do that even to my uncle, she has been so protective of her culinary creations!
The feast finally came last night. The Great Hall was full of people, as many of my uncle’s retainers and adherents came to join the celebration. Even Aurelius and Uther Pendragon came, taking time out from their constant efforts to reclaim their birthright.
There was an entire table devoted to the gifts that had been brought for Ygraine and Tristan, nearly groaning under the weight of them all. Ygraine received a number of pretty fabrics for her to have dresses made out of, many jewelry pieces, and, of course, several mirrors. Clearly, everyone expects her to be in need of all of them. Is Ygraine somehow gaining a reputation for vanity? Meanwhile, Tristan was given a series of weapons - daggers, throwing stars, crossbows, and even a few swords. He was quite pleased, since he, like all boys from what I can tell, is mad about weaponry. I don’t think I shall ever understand it.
Perhaps the most popular gifts that the twins received, though, were those from Aurelius and Uther. I admit, I was surprised that they could afford such things, given that they are almost always short on coin due to devoting every resource they have into raising troops. Nonetheless, Ygraine dearly loved the spyglass that Uther presented to her, and Tristan was thrilled with the suit of armor that Aurelius gave to him, which had been designed and decorated specifically for him. I think they loved them even more than the personal seals that uncle gave them, to signify that they have reached adulthood.
The feast lasted for hours, and it wasn’t until dawn was approaching that we all finally retired to our beds. Even then, though, we did not get much sleep and were up again within hours. Ygraine was far too excited to sleep overly long, and eager to experiment with her gift from Uther. She actually came into my chamber and then Vivienne’s, calling loudly for us to get up and not be lazing about. I didn’t bother arguing with her, but I think Vivienne flung a few of her pillows at her before giving in to the inevitable.
Ygraine dragged us up to the battlements, the beautifully crafted spyglass held carefully in her arms. We chose a spot overlooking the gardens and then the town beyond the citadel’s walls. As she put the spyglass up to her eye and began to look out over our surroundings, I looked down into the gardens. Those gardens were my aunt’s pride and joy, something she had designed herself in the early years of her marriage.
It being well into spring, the gardens were rife with bursts of color - red, yellow, white, blue, and a host of others. I was so lost in the colors that it took several moments for me to notice that the gardens were not deserted.
I recognized Uther easily enough. Even from where we stood, he was distinctive. I did not, however, recognize his companion. It was a woman, clad in dark colors much as he was. She even wore trousers, I noticed. What was caught my attention the most, however, was her fiery red hair. From the battlements, her hair looked almost like dull flames.
Ygraine startled me when she appeared at my side, asking who the woman was. Apparently, she had noticed me observing them. Vivienne, who can always be counted upon to know these things, told us that she was Nimueh, a sorceress who had pledged her support to Uther and his brother. I was impressed. The brothers were wise to court the aid of sorcerers, since Camelot was rife with magic under its current ruler, Vortigern, the usurper who had murdered Uther and Aurelius’ father and older brother. I idly wondered if she was the only one they had, or if there were others.
Vivienne didn’t stop there, however. It seems that she overheard two maids talking, and they said that not only had Nimueh been spotted entering Uther’s chambers in the dead of night, but that he supposedly wanted to marry her! I started to scold Vivienne for listening to gossip (even though I was hardly any better for listening to her myself), but then my eyes fell on Ygraine. She was pale, paler than I had ever seen her, and her hands were shaking so badly that I thought she might drop the beloved spyglass, which she still held. Before I could think of anything else, I took the spyglass from her, and then asked her what was wrong.
My taking the spyglass seemed to have caught her attention, and Ygraine tried to smile and deny that it was nothing, but I know my cousin. She’s such a bright, sunny young woman and few things can make her behave any differently. I interrupted her denials and told her not to bother trying to lie to me. She tried to stare me down, but I confess that I have observed my uncle’s method of doing so far more closely than she has, and Ygraine is no match for me. Finally, after several moments, she confessed that she liked Uther and thought he might like her. She’d hoped that she might be able to convince her father to ally the de Bois with the Pendragons with a marriage between her and Uther, who, despite being the younger, is clearly the better warrior of the two brothers. If Uther is bedding Nimueh and even intending to marry her, though, then there’s no hope for it.
I admit, I was shocked by my cousin’s confession. I’d had no idea before this that she was interested in the younger of the Pendragon brothers. Granted, I suppose he is handsome enough, chivalrous in the presence of women, but I had not thought to look at him as a potential husband. That was clearly a mistake on my part, one my uncle would be disappointed to know that I had made. He has taught me much over the years, and one of the chief lessons is that I must always be aware of every resource I have at my disposal. My hand in marriage is one of my best resources, and I should consider all of my options. Uther Pendragon, in fact, would be a good potential husband for me. As the younger brother, he would not rule Camelot should he and Aurelius conquer it. That would leave him free to stand beside me as my consort, as the commander of my knights and soldiers. I should have been aware of that, and yet I was not.
Clearly I still have much to learn.
Nonetheless, the fact remained was that Ygraine was obviously upset by this revelation that Uther wished to marry his sorceress. I was at a loss as to how to comfort her. What could I say, really?
In the end, though, I did not get the chance to make a fool of myself. Vivienne had been quiet for some time, but now she spoke, and she did not sound at all like my sister. In a cold, distant voice, she said, “Nothing lasts forever. As much love as there is now, there will be hate in equal measure.” Ygraine and I both turned to stare at her and I think my cousin saw the same thing I did.
Vivienne’s eyes were glazed over, covered in a deep golden sheen - a sure sign of a vision. I have never seen her seer talents behave so. Normally, her visions visit her in her dreams, but this? A waking vision is much, much rarer, and therefore more likely to have a large grain of truth in it. I hesitate to think on it too much, lest I start trying to predict everything through my sister’s words.
Because the arrival of Cornwall’s embassy was so unexpected, there was a mad scramble to provide the proper entertainment and hospitality that was due them as the representative of a potential ally. Fortunately, Arthur thought, Gwen had a thorough knowledge of the citadel’s supplies and staff. As a result, within hours of Sir Bedwyr and his party’s arrival, guest chambers had been aired and scrubbed clean and the kitchen staff was galvanized into action to provide a fine meal meant to impress.
Thankfully, the feast didn’t go on well into the night, as often the case when entertaining foreign embassies. Bedwyr and his cohorts were tired from their journey, and thus were quite happy to eat their fill, enjoy the entertainment Gwen had organized, and then retire to their chambers for the night. As they did so, Arthur drew Leon to the side and surreptitiously ordered that guards be posted in the vicinity of their guests’ chambers. It might seem paranoid, but Arthur had seen far too many visitors in Camelot turn out to be assassins or spies to not take precautions.
That done, Arthur joined the others in the council chamber. Even Geoffrey, who had only recently risen from his sickbed, made an appearance. He was the one Arthur spoke to first. “What can you tell me of Cornwall?” he asked.
The old archivist looked uncomfortable. “Unfortunately, not very much, Sire,” he replied. “Camelot was once allied with Cornwall, in the early days of your father’s reign, but they broke off relations with us… some decades before.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow, noting the man’s slight hesitation. “How many decades, Geoffrey?”
Again, the older man appeared ill at ease. “Roughly twenty-six years ago, Your Majesty. When the Great Purge began. To my knowledge, Cornwall has always welcomed the presence of magic, and might very well have condemned your late father’s policies.”
Twenty-six years ago. Not for the first time, Arthur was reminded that his birth and the beginning of the purges had coincided. Well, his birth and his mother’s death. His father had claimed that magic was responsible for her death, and the shade of his mother had claimed that magic had been used to facilitate his conception. Merlin and his father both had pointed out that Morgause had had every reason to lie and manipulate such a vision, and her subsequent actions certainly bore that out. Still, the situation made something inside of him twitch. There was a fundamental truth in all of the deception.
Shaking his head, Arthur cleared his thoughts and refocused on the subject at hand. “The Lady-Regent has invited me to visit her in Cornwall’s capital, Tintagel.”
“What does that mean?” Gwaine cut in. “Never heard of a ‘lady-regent’ before.”
It was Geoffrey who responded, now looking pleased to have a succinct answer on hand. “Cornwall has always been ruled by a prince, never feeling the need to take on the title of king. If the rightful prince is not of age to rule himself, then a regent is appointed to rule in his stead.” He looked thoughtful. “If a lady rules as regent, it’s quite possible that she is the current prince’s mother.”
“She must be a formidable lady,” Gwen murmured from beside Arthur. “Few women would have the resources to take on such responsibility.”
Arthur nodded, agreeing. Education was spotty even amongst the nobility. Nobles usually made sure that their sons had enough education to succeed them or to begin their own path, in the case of younger sons, but their daughters rarely received even that much consideration. Often they were taught the basics of household management and that was it. It had been a point of pride for his father that he had seen both his heir and his ward both extensively educated, well beyond what was customary. Gwen herself had learned much of what she knew from being present during Morgana’s lessons.
Leon brought their attention back to the subject at hand. “Sire,” he said hesitantly, “are you certain now is a good time for you to be traveling out of the kingdom? Though Helios is deceased and his army either dead, captured, or scattered, the Lady Morgana is still at large and we still have no leads on her whereabouts.”
That was a good point. Arthur did hesitate to leave Camelot when it was still under threat from Morgana. She had lost her military backing and her spy, so the threat was much reduced, but Morgana was nothing if not resourceful. What if she should try something, make another deadly bid for the throne, while he was away visiting Cornwall?
On the other hand, Arthur couldn’t spend the rest of his days arranging his life around Morgana. He said as much to the others, adding, “I refuse to allow her to control me or Camelot in such a way. We must certainly make provisions for while I’m away, but I won’t let fear of what Morgana might do keep me from living my life.” Not to mention, he wasn’t certain he wanted to insult a woman who had sent him and his kingdom sorely-needed supplies out of the seeming goodness of her heart.
It was perhaps a haphazard way of announcing his decision to take the offer of a visit, but no one said anything about it. Taking a deep breath, Arthur thought quickly. “Merlin, you’ll be coming with me,” he said, “as will Leon, Gwaine, Sir Cador, and Sir Samuel. The rest of you,” he nodded toward Elyan, Percival, Geoffrey, and Gaius, “will remain here and assist Gwen.” When Arthur turned toward his wife, he met her wide, dark eyes with his own. “Gwen, I will be leaving you in charge of Camelot,” he told her, his voice softening. “Everyone will report to you, and you will wield my authority here.”
Arthur took a quick glance around the table. Merlin was beaming. Whether it was because Arthur had ordered him along on this trip or because he had made the unprecedented decision of leaving the Queen as the kingdom’s regent, he didn’t know. Arthur was coming to realize that he seldom really knew what was going on in his former manservant’s head. Gaius was as inscrutable as ever, while Geoffrey was eyeing Gwen warily. Arthur sincerely hoped there would not be any issues on the historian’s part. He valued the old man’s expertise, but he wasn’t going to let old-fashioned notions of ‘a woman’s place’ hinder him. He had every confidence that Gwen could do what he was asking her to do.
He turned then to Elyan and Percival. “I trust you two with command of the knights until I return. Sir Bors and Sir Hadrian will be of use there.”
The two knights glanced at one another briefly, and then nodded. “Yes, Sire,” Elyan murmured.
Arthur eyed his brother-in-law briefly. He had been rather closed off and solemn in the weeks since Camelot had been retaken. Gaius and Gwaine had told him of what Morgana had done to him, using some cursed snake creature to torture Arthur’s destination out of him after he and Merlin had fled. Arthur hoped that by leaving him as a source of support to his sister’s regency and a co-command of the knights, he would restore some of the other man’s confidence. If that turned out to be too much, then he trusted Percival to keep the situation under the control.
Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Sir Bedwyr’s delegation was only planning on staying for a short time, four days. He stated that a permanent ambassador might be forthcoming from Cornwall if we were interested in pursuing an alliance with them, but that I could discuss the details with his lady if I should come to meet her in Tintagel. We’ll depart with them.”
Solstone
Horrible news. Lord Aurelius has been killed, murdered. The messenger apparently rode non-stop to Solstone, and was greatly weakened by his long journey. His horse was nearly dead when they arrived. It took some time to get the entire story out of him, and was done as Aunt Ygrisa fussed over and fed him a broth brought from the kitchens.
Aurelius and Uther’s efforts to raise an army have borne fruit over the past year. They have sorcerers in their ranks, led by the sorceress Nimueh, as well as extensive cavalry and infantry, some of which my uncle provided from his own forces. They have even managed to obtain coin enough to pay them, thanks to their ties with the Houses of Tregor and de Bois.
According to the messenger, Aurelius had taken a small party away from the main body, intent on hunting game along the border of Camelot. They were in the forest, on the trail of a wild boar, when they were set upon by a large group of disguised, armed men. Despite the ambush, Aurelius and his men fought valiantly, killing many of the enemy, but Aurelius suffered a mortal wound in killing the ringleader. Help was sent for, but he died before Uther’s physician-friend, Gaius, could get to him. The survivors of Aurelius’ men were able to interrogate the surviving attackers, and obtained the name of the one who sent them - Vortigern. Yet another Pendragon corpse can be laid at that man’s feet. Only Uther lives now. According to the messenger, Uther is preparing to march on Camelot not just to reclaim what is his by right, but also to avenge his family’s assassinations.
My uncle has offered the assistance of the rest of his own soldiers and knights, and is even preparing to ride with Uther as a full-fledged ally. Agravaine will accompany him, since my uncle thinks that, as his heir, Agravaine needs battle experience. Tristan, much to his fury, will remain behind. Aglovale isn’t so foolish as to risk both of his sons on a risky venture such as this. They leave for Brieland at dawn tomorrow, while the rest of us will follow in a few days.
I asked my uncle why he was willing to side with Uther. Despite the support that the other man has accumulated, it will still be no easy victory over Vortigern, who is firmly entrenched and Camelot and whose army still outnumbers Uthers at least two to one. Aglovale didn’t answer me at first, but then finally told me that the future rests in men like Uther, men who seek to bind together the various people of Albion. Uther will stand against barbarians like the Saxons, not give in to them as Vortigern has a history of doing. My uncle thinks that it is in Uther that they have found a man who will help beat the Saxons back, and as such he won’t abandon him.
“It is far better to be the friend of such a man, than an enemy,” he said.
Part Three
The following morning, Merlin arrived in Arthur’s chambers just as he and Gwen were finishing breakfast. There was an awkward silence, Merlin standing in the doorway, looking anywhere but at the two of them. Arthur studiously ignored the man’s discomfort, keeping his attention on the last of his food.
It was Gwen who broke the stalemate. “Come, Merlin,” she said, gesturing to the table. “Have something.” Her tone was completely even and relaxed, as though nothing embarrassing had occurred the previous night.
Her behavior seemed to be just what Merlin needed, because he did indeed sit down to join them, helping himself to a piece of bread and a scoop of preserves. Arthur rolled his eyes. Not long ago, Merlin had never even bothered to wait to be asked to have some, simply snatching bites from Arthur’s plate with a teasing grin. Apparently, Gwen inspired Merlin to remember his manners.
She didn’t remain long after that, leaving them alone to go oversee the continuing reconstruction in the lower town. “Take Elyan or one of the other knights with you,” Arthur called after her. He knew that no one of Camelot would dream of harming Gwen - many of the residents had known her since she was a nurseling - but there was always the chance of assassins. Morgana was still at large, was good at disguising herself, and had shown herself to be especially hostile to Gwen. He couldn’t dismiss the possibility that Morgana might seek to kill Gwen even now, and a knife in the ribs could be just as fatal as magic.
Once Arthur and Merlin had both finished their meal, they moved over to Arthur’s desk. There were several parchments there from the night before, as well as a few new ones that had arrived that morning. As Merlin started shuffling through them, Arthur skimmed through the letter drafts Merlin had left for him. Taking up a quill, he made a few notes on them, crossing out a few things and adding something different, underlining a few passages that were acceptable for use.
“What do you think?” Merlin asked.
Arthur glanced up at him, and then back down at the drafts. “Not bad,” he said grudgingly. “A bit preachy, which I’ll fix, but you’re definitely getting better at this.”
Merlin just beamed at him, as though Arthur had paid him the highest compliment in the world. Arthur tried not to roll his eyes. Honestly, Merlin could be such a girl sometimes, always lighting up under the faintest of praise.
He settled himself more deeply into his chair and began writing. He made certain to keep the tone of his letters polite but firm, having no intention of being seen to beg for the assistance of his allies. A request coupled with the offer of remuneration, on the other hand, was perfectly acceptable in the eyes of any reasonable person.
Arthur wrote out three copies of the letter, all with virtually the same proposals, though he made sure to couple that with a few sentences regarding matters of importance tailored to each of the recipients. When he was finished, he muttered, “Now who to take them?”
Merlin heard him. “Elyan would probably be a good person to send,” he suggested. Arthur thought on that a moment, and then agreed. Elyan had shown himself to be fairly diplomatic when he had to be, and as the brother of Camelot's new Queen, no one could accuse Arthur of sending someone of low importance.
He nodded. “Elyan can take one to Caerleon,” he said, “and Leon can take one to Olaf’s kingdom.” Leon was of high birth, the son of a wealthy lord, albeit a younger son. That just left Lord Godwyn, but Arthur wasn’t too worried about him. Godwyn himself had imposed fewer restrictions on who could join the knights who served him than Camelot, and as such, many of his knights were from the lower classes. Arthur could send anyone and Godwyn would welcome them. “Sir Samuel can go to Lord Godwyn,” he finally added. Samuel was the son of a minor baron, and had proven himself to be as devoted to Camelot as anyone.
He carefully folded the parchments and closed them with melted wax and his seal. With that finished, Arthur set them aside. There were plenty of other matters to attend to before he joined the knights on the training field later on that morning. Merlin, thankfully, had put everything into order before he’d placed them in front of him, so Arthur was able to get through them with relative quickness.
Solstone
I have been at Solstone a month now, and I have to say, it is not horrible at all. I still miss Tintagel, but it is the longing for home, and not necessarily the desire to return to the way things were there. I’ve found that I enjoy interacting with my aunt and uncle, and receiving a significant amount of their attention. It is also rather interesting to have someone like Tristan around. Vivienne and I have never had a brother, or any other male presence in our life except for our father, and he has proven himself quite the pest, often playing japes upon the two of us and his own twin. Ygraine, it seems, doesn’t hesitate to retaliate, and prevails upon the two of us to assist her.
Agravaine, however, has proven to be different from the rest of his family in more than appearance. Though he is nothing but polite to all of us, and respectful to his father, there doesn’t seem to be any true warmth in his eyes when he interacts with any of us. Very strange.
I have news. Over our evening meal, my uncle announced that we have tarried at Solstone long enough, and will be traveling to Brieland within the week. Tristan was thrilled, as it would mean that the training of the new knights will begin, and he has been deemed ready to join them. Agravaine was as unaffected as ever, but assured his father that he would be ready. Ygraine nearly bounced out of her chair in excitement, promising that she would show Vivienne and I all of the secret areas of the castle in Brieland, which prompted Ygrisa to scold her daughter for behaving intemperately, though I don’t think she meant it entirely as she was smiling a little as she said it.
After the meal ended, my uncle asked me to join him in his study, as he had something he wished to discuss with me. Leaving Ygrisa to herd the others elsewhere, I followed him. Once we were seated, he began to say that he was quite pleased with my academic progress. Vivienne and I had joined Ygraine with her tutor not long after we arrived at Solstone, and had found ourselves moving at a much more rapid pace than we were accustomed to at home, but had managed to find out feet.
I thanked him, as I was quite proud of myself for learning so quickly the things that Ygraine’s tutor had taught us. The man, Howland, is a stern man, one who believes that a woman’s mind is best kept occupied by rigorous educational standards, and not just from “fripperies” like needlework. He teaches us about the complexities of household management, and even has us practice in ledgers he provides for us. He expects us to keep the knowledge fresh in our minds, as it is something we will need to do once we are married to great lords who will expect us to keep their households in perfect working order. Howland has little patience for any type of sloth on our parts, and even less for Vivienne’s complaining, as she dislikes dealing with numbers the most of all. After one bout of grumbling, he quite testily informed her that men of good sense do not want stupid or useless wives. Implying that she might be stupid was probably the best thing he could have done. For all her dislike of numbers, Vivienne thinks highly of her intelligence. Now she focuses on her work, if only to spite Howland.
It was very well done, masterfully so, I think.
My uncle then went on to explain that he felt that as the oldest twin and my status as the Princess of Cornwall, I required additional tutoring. When I came of age, I would be expected to take up the active ruling of my kingdom. Even if I had a husband by then, it was very likely that my lords would not react well to my allowing my consort to rule in my stead. Unless I was prepared to take on the responsibilities involved, Cornwall could descend into civil war.
His declaration surprised me. I’ve known, intellectually, that I am the Princess of Cornwall, despite my age. I suppose I’d never really thought about what it meant. I am the ruler of Cornwall, even if I’m not yet at an age where I am able to govern myself. Ruling a country, and ruling it well, keeping it safe from the aggression of others will definitely require more than what I am learning from Howland, even if what he has taught is a good beginning.
I looked to Aglovale and asked him what he proposed for this situation I was in. He appeared pleased with my answer. He proposed that I spend several hours with him each day, learning how he managed his lands and people. He would go about his duties, and I would watch and observe, taking notes where I had questions, and later in private, I would ask those questions and he would answer them. We would then adjust our situation as needed from then on when needed.
Howland said that men do not like stupid women. Well, I’d be a stupid woman indeed to turn down such an offer.
The letters were sent out the following morning, each of the three messengers setting out with a single companion. They would travel more quickly and easily without a large escort. It was the last Arthur thought about it for the next week.
In an odd trick of fate, Elyan, Leon, and Samuel all returned on the same day, and all bearing responses. Arthur read them alone in his chambers, which were rather cluttered - Edgar’s skills as a manservant still left something to be desired, even with Merlin tutoring him on how to handle himself.
Phrases cluttered Arthur’s mind as he read the replies, all warring for dominance.
… compliment you on having the gumption to ask for help. Certainly your father would have rather seen his people starve than ask someone, even his allies, for assistance…
… crops have been good these past few years, so there’s plenty for us to spare. Elena sends you her greetings and hopes you are well…
… was pleased to hear of your marriage…
Annis was as blunt as ever. In the letters Arthur had been exchanging with her since the disastrous business with her late husband, she had never bothered with things like delicacy or diplomacy. She never hesitated to point out any flaws she saw, whether it was in him or in his father. It was something Arthur had slowly come to appreciate, since so few people were wholly honest with him.
Godwyn was as pleasant as ever, and he was glad that Elena was well too.
That Olaf was happy to hear of Arthur’s marriage was something of a relief. Whatever enchantment had been placed on both him and Vivian had lasted longer with the lady than it had with Arthur, but it had, thankfully, faded. If it hadn’t, Arthur was fairly certain that his father wouldn’t have hesitated to point out to Olaf that magic had clearly been involved in Arthur and Vivian’s intemperate behavior and that Alined had been distinctly displeased by the treaty. Olaf would have almost certainly declared war, treaty or not.
Still, what relieved Arthur the most was that all three contained one similar piece of information - they’d all agreed to his proposed exchange. Camelot would have food in exchange for gold and metals. That was definitely a cause for celebration.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when there was an urgent knock on his door. Arthur looked up. “Come,” he called.
The door opened hurriedly, revealing one of the page boys. The child bowed hurriedly and piped out in a high-pitched tone, “Sire, a large party of armed men has been spotted on the road. They’re not a mile from Camelot.” He said it all in such a hurry that Arthur had to pause a moment to let the entire message think in. He stood up quickly and grabbed his sword before striding out of the room.
Arthur jogged toward the battlements overlooking the road. Leon and Percival were already there, the former staring out through the lens of the spyglass in his hands. Arthur followed their gaze. Just as the boy said, there was a party approaching Camelot. He couldn’t make out the identification of their banners, but he could see that they were clad in deep blue and grey, a color combination he was unfamiliar with. “What do you see, Leon?” Arthur demanded.
“There are a dozen armed knights, Sire,” Leon reported. “They’re protecting two covered wagons. I cannot see what they might be transporting.”
“Their colors?”
Leon didn’t respond immediately, but Arthur could see the furrow deepening on the other man’s brow. “It’s… something blue… a fish of some kind? Yes, a fish with a golden cliff behind it and…” Leon lowered the spyglass, his eyes huge with surprise. He stared at Arthur. “Cornwall, Sire. They’re knights of Cornwall.”
Arthur’s eyes widened in shock. He quickly took the spyglass and held it up, training it on the party that was steadily coming closer. Yes, just as Leon had said, a blue fish and a golden cliff, with an embroidered ‘C’ woven into the image.
Cornwall.
Brieland
Brieland is very different from Solstone. It isn’t just a castle, a manor house for the family to reside in, but a castle with a town around it, full to the brim of people who live under Aglovale’s protection and rule. The castle doesn’t just house Aglovale’s family and servants, but also a contingent of knights, infantry, and other members of his military.
There is also much more ceremony at Brieland. When a distinguished visitor comes, the entire family is expected to greet him, much as the family greeted Vivienne and me. Just today, two men came to visit my uncle, a Lord Aurelius and his brother, Lord Uther. Both men were tall, taller than most of the others in the Great Hall. Apparently, my uncle is acquainted with these men, for he greeted them with great ceremony and affection. The rest of the family also seems to have met them in the past, because Aglovale only bothered to formally introduce them to my sister and me, passing over his daughter and sons. Both Aurelius and Uther were polite, bowing to us.
When the two lords and my uncle left us, Ygrisa dismissed the rest of us to return to our lessons. As I accompanied Vivienne and Ygraine back to our schoolroom, where Howland waited to inflict more lessons on us, Vivienne lost no time in asking Ygraine about the visiting lords.
“They’re Romans,” were the first words out of Ygraine’s mouth, and she sounded incredibly awed by the statement. Apparently, the two men were the sons of a Lord Constantine, one of the last generals sent by the Romans to keep peace in Britain (that is the name the Romans give Albion - I much prefer our own), though he did not long command the legions before they were called back to Rome. He made do with what he had, though, and was able to call together the various kingdoms to stand united against the invading Saxons. Eventually, though, Lord Constantine and his eldest son, Constans, were murdered under mysterious circumstances (some say by Saxon assassins, others by jealous allies), and his younger sons, Aurelius and Uther, would have suffered the same fate were it not for a few faithful servants. They spirited the two boys away into the north, taking them to the care of King Cador, of the house of Tregor. They’ve since grown up of course, and now both men are seeking to reclaim that which was their father’s by right.
Addendum: I met with Aglovale after supper this evening for one of his lessons. I was surprised to be summoned to him, since I’d thought that he would be busy entertaining and speaking with his guests, but apparently my uncle trusted his wife to amuse them while he spoke with me.
“Lord Aurelius is looking for a wife,” he told me just as I was sitting down with him. He didn’t try to break such news gently, just blurted it out.
I froze. A wife?! I was thirteen years old, and had only begun to experience my moon’s blood just before I came to live with him and his family. Vivienne hasn’t even begun hers yet! Lord Aurelius was twenty-five, at the very least! I know that such things are normal for women of my station, to be married off at an early age, but still, to have the subject even broached was shocking.
Fortunately, Aglovale put me out of my misery. He told me that Aurelius was planning on asking King Cador for the hand of one of his daughters, Alyx or Catrina, who were nineteen and seventeen. He had no desire to bed a child bride, whatever her dowry.
“Still,” he said, “you were obviously surprised by such news, and it showed on your face, my dear.” He told me that as a ruler, I must, above all, control my emotions and not let them spread across my face for everyone to see. Discerning people will see them, and use them against me if they can. Not all of my enemies will be stupid fools, after all.
He is right, of course. I know that, but the marriage idea is a strange one that still lingers. I will have to marry one day, as will Vivienne. We will have to marry for the good of Cornwall, myself especially. If that involves marrying a man old enough to be my own sire and bear his children, then I will have to do so. My fate is no different than that of any other noble girl, even if I am the princess of my own country. If such a marriage will benefit Cornwall, then I must do it, and do it with a smile on my face.
Arthur ordered a contingent of guards and knights to meet the approaching company, to ascertain their purpose for coming to Camelot, and to make sure that there were no soldiers within the wagons seeking to slip into the citadel and take it by surprise. Painful experience had taught Arthur to be cautious.
In the meantime, Arthur had called for the court to assemble. There was no time to make use of the throne room, which he would have preferred to use under such circumstances. For longer than Arthur had been alive, Cornwall had been closed to Camelot, exchanging no ambassadors, no treaties, nothing. It was a land Arthur knew little about, and in fact only recognized the standard because of the diligent study his father had insisted he make as a boy of all the kingdoms and their marks.
Why were they here, he wondered. Cornwall had been silent for decades, why change that now? Hopefully, he’d soon find out.
Percival and Leon led the head of the delegation into the chamber, approaching Arthur on his throne at a quick pace. Gwen sat silently beside him, her own chair having only recently been brought out of storage. Merlin stood just behind his right shoulder, which had become his accustomed place the past several weeks.
Leon and Percival joined the ranks of their fellow knights, leaving the delegation’s head to face Arthur alone. He examined the man. He was tall and dark-haired, with deep green eyes. His tunic was dust-covered, as one would expect from someone who had been traveling, but he still cut an impressive figure.
The knight came to a halt in front of him and bowed deeply. “Your Majesty,” he said, his voice deep, but pleasant, “I am Sir Bedwyr, knight of Cornwall. I come with the good wishes of Cornwall, and a message from our Lady-Regent.”
“Indeed, Sir Bedwyr?” Arthur replied. “This is very much a surprise. Camelot has not had business with Cornwall in many years, though we welcome you most heartily. What message does your lady have for us?”
The knight bowed again and held up a folded parchment. Arthur could see the lump of wax used to close it, but could not make out the details of the seal. Merlin stepped forward, his hand out, and Bedwyr gave him the parchment. Merlin then stepped back and handed the parchment over to Arthur. Looking down at the document, Arthur carefully slid his finger under one of the loose ends and slid it toward the wax. Working at it carefully, the wax came loose, allowing him to unfold the parchment. Once it was fully opened, Arthur began to read the message, which was written in an elegant, feminine hand.
To Arthur, son of Uther and Ygraine, King of Camelot, the Lady-Regent of Cornwall offers her country’s greetings.
It being many years since our two kingdoms have engaged in commerce and communication and having heard lately of Camelot’s troubles at the hands of the renegade warlord, Helios, and the traitor, Morgana, we of Cornwall felt it time to put aside past grudges and hurts in the name of cooperation and friendship.
It has also come to our attention that Camelot is in need of certain foodstuffs and supplies to help overcome the troubles recently visited upon you. The harvests of Cornwall have been bountiful these past several summers, and thus it is in our power to gift supplies to you in token of our hope to renew the ties between our two kingdoms.
The leader of our embassy, Sir Bedwyr, has been empowered by us to begin these negotiations with you. It is Cornwall’s hope that this can be a new beginning between us.
As a further token of our esteem, we wish to formally invite you and a party of your choice to visit us in Tintagel, the center of government and commerce in Cornwall. All formality and rules of hospitality are hereby invoked and will be adhered to.
Yours in friendship and sincerity,
The Lady-Regent of Cornwall
Well, Arthur thought, that was unexpected.
Brieland
All of Brieland has been turned upside down for the preparations for Ygraine and Tristan’s fifteenth birthday celebration. Nearly everything was scrubbed down, the Great Hall was decorated, and the kitchens had the most delicious aromas wafting from it. Unfortunately, no one could get in to get an early taste of the feast, because every time someone tried, Cook chased them out, swearing loudly and cracking knuckles with one of her many ladles. I suspect Cook wouldn’t have hesitated to do that even to my uncle, she has been so protective of her culinary creations!
The feast finally came last night. The Great Hall was full of people, as many of my uncle’s retainers and adherents came to join the celebration. Even Aurelius and Uther Pendragon came, taking time out from their constant efforts to reclaim their birthright.
There was an entire table devoted to the gifts that had been brought for Ygraine and Tristan, nearly groaning under the weight of them all. Ygraine received a number of pretty fabrics for her to have dresses made out of, many jewelry pieces, and, of course, several mirrors. Clearly, everyone expects her to be in need of all of them. Is Ygraine somehow gaining a reputation for vanity? Meanwhile, Tristan was given a series of weapons - daggers, throwing stars, crossbows, and even a few swords. He was quite pleased, since he, like all boys from what I can tell, is mad about weaponry. I don’t think I shall ever understand it.
Perhaps the most popular gifts that the twins received, though, were those from Aurelius and Uther. I admit, I was surprised that they could afford such things, given that they are almost always short on coin due to devoting every resource they have into raising troops. Nonetheless, Ygraine dearly loved the spyglass that Uther presented to her, and Tristan was thrilled with the suit of armor that Aurelius gave to him, which had been designed and decorated specifically for him. I think they loved them even more than the personal seals that uncle gave them, to signify that they have reached adulthood.
The feast lasted for hours, and it wasn’t until dawn was approaching that we all finally retired to our beds. Even then, though, we did not get much sleep and were up again within hours. Ygraine was far too excited to sleep overly long, and eager to experiment with her gift from Uther. She actually came into my chamber and then Vivienne’s, calling loudly for us to get up and not be lazing about. I didn’t bother arguing with her, but I think Vivienne flung a few of her pillows at her before giving in to the inevitable.
Ygraine dragged us up to the battlements, the beautifully crafted spyglass held carefully in her arms. We chose a spot overlooking the gardens and then the town beyond the citadel’s walls. As she put the spyglass up to her eye and began to look out over our surroundings, I looked down into the gardens. Those gardens were my aunt’s pride and joy, something she had designed herself in the early years of her marriage.
It being well into spring, the gardens were rife with bursts of color - red, yellow, white, blue, and a host of others. I was so lost in the colors that it took several moments for me to notice that the gardens were not deserted.
I recognized Uther easily enough. Even from where we stood, he was distinctive. I did not, however, recognize his companion. It was a woman, clad in dark colors much as he was. She even wore trousers, I noticed. What was caught my attention the most, however, was her fiery red hair. From the battlements, her hair looked almost like dull flames.
Ygraine startled me when she appeared at my side, asking who the woman was. Apparently, she had noticed me observing them. Vivienne, who can always be counted upon to know these things, told us that she was Nimueh, a sorceress who had pledged her support to Uther and his brother. I was impressed. The brothers were wise to court the aid of sorcerers, since Camelot was rife with magic under its current ruler, Vortigern, the usurper who had murdered Uther and Aurelius’ father and older brother. I idly wondered if she was the only one they had, or if there were others.
Vivienne didn’t stop there, however. It seems that she overheard two maids talking, and they said that not only had Nimueh been spotted entering Uther’s chambers in the dead of night, but that he supposedly wanted to marry her! I started to scold Vivienne for listening to gossip (even though I was hardly any better for listening to her myself), but then my eyes fell on Ygraine. She was pale, paler than I had ever seen her, and her hands were shaking so badly that I thought she might drop the beloved spyglass, which she still held. Before I could think of anything else, I took the spyglass from her, and then asked her what was wrong.
My taking the spyglass seemed to have caught her attention, and Ygraine tried to smile and deny that it was nothing, but I know my cousin. She’s such a bright, sunny young woman and few things can make her behave any differently. I interrupted her denials and told her not to bother trying to lie to me. She tried to stare me down, but I confess that I have observed my uncle’s method of doing so far more closely than she has, and Ygraine is no match for me. Finally, after several moments, she confessed that she liked Uther and thought he might like her. She’d hoped that she might be able to convince her father to ally the de Bois with the Pendragons with a marriage between her and Uther, who, despite being the younger, is clearly the better warrior of the two brothers. If Uther is bedding Nimueh and even intending to marry her, though, then there’s no hope for it.
I admit, I was shocked by my cousin’s confession. I’d had no idea before this that she was interested in the younger of the Pendragon brothers. Granted, I suppose he is handsome enough, chivalrous in the presence of women, but I had not thought to look at him as a potential husband. That was clearly a mistake on my part, one my uncle would be disappointed to know that I had made. He has taught me much over the years, and one of the chief lessons is that I must always be aware of every resource I have at my disposal. My hand in marriage is one of my best resources, and I should consider all of my options. Uther Pendragon, in fact, would be a good potential husband for me. As the younger brother, he would not rule Camelot should he and Aurelius conquer it. That would leave him free to stand beside me as my consort, as the commander of my knights and soldiers. I should have been aware of that, and yet I was not.
Clearly I still have much to learn.
Nonetheless, the fact remained was that Ygraine was obviously upset by this revelation that Uther wished to marry his sorceress. I was at a loss as to how to comfort her. What could I say, really?
In the end, though, I did not get the chance to make a fool of myself. Vivienne had been quiet for some time, but now she spoke, and she did not sound at all like my sister. In a cold, distant voice, she said, “Nothing lasts forever. As much love as there is now, there will be hate in equal measure.” Ygraine and I both turned to stare at her and I think my cousin saw the same thing I did.
Vivienne’s eyes were glazed over, covered in a deep golden sheen - a sure sign of a vision. I have never seen her seer talents behave so. Normally, her visions visit her in her dreams, but this? A waking vision is much, much rarer, and therefore more likely to have a large grain of truth in it. I hesitate to think on it too much, lest I start trying to predict everything through my sister’s words.
Because the arrival of Cornwall’s embassy was so unexpected, there was a mad scramble to provide the proper entertainment and hospitality that was due them as the representative of a potential ally. Fortunately, Arthur thought, Gwen had a thorough knowledge of the citadel’s supplies and staff. As a result, within hours of Sir Bedwyr and his party’s arrival, guest chambers had been aired and scrubbed clean and the kitchen staff was galvanized into action to provide a fine meal meant to impress.
Thankfully, the feast didn’t go on well into the night, as often the case when entertaining foreign embassies. Bedwyr and his cohorts were tired from their journey, and thus were quite happy to eat their fill, enjoy the entertainment Gwen had organized, and then retire to their chambers for the night. As they did so, Arthur drew Leon to the side and surreptitiously ordered that guards be posted in the vicinity of their guests’ chambers. It might seem paranoid, but Arthur had seen far too many visitors in Camelot turn out to be assassins or spies to not take precautions.
That done, Arthur joined the others in the council chamber. Even Geoffrey, who had only recently risen from his sickbed, made an appearance. He was the one Arthur spoke to first. “What can you tell me of Cornwall?” he asked.
The old archivist looked uncomfortable. “Unfortunately, not very much, Sire,” he replied. “Camelot was once allied with Cornwall, in the early days of your father’s reign, but they broke off relations with us… some decades before.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow, noting the man’s slight hesitation. “How many decades, Geoffrey?”
Again, the older man appeared ill at ease. “Roughly twenty-six years ago, Your Majesty. When the Great Purge began. To my knowledge, Cornwall has always welcomed the presence of magic, and might very well have condemned your late father’s policies.”
Twenty-six years ago. Not for the first time, Arthur was reminded that his birth and the beginning of the purges had coincided. Well, his birth and his mother’s death. His father had claimed that magic was responsible for her death, and the shade of his mother had claimed that magic had been used to facilitate his conception. Merlin and his father both had pointed out that Morgause had had every reason to lie and manipulate such a vision, and her subsequent actions certainly bore that out. Still, the situation made something inside of him twitch. There was a fundamental truth in all of the deception.
Shaking his head, Arthur cleared his thoughts and refocused on the subject at hand. “The Lady-Regent has invited me to visit her in Cornwall’s capital, Tintagel.”
“What does that mean?” Gwaine cut in. “Never heard of a ‘lady-regent’ before.”
It was Geoffrey who responded, now looking pleased to have a succinct answer on hand. “Cornwall has always been ruled by a prince, never feeling the need to take on the title of king. If the rightful prince is not of age to rule himself, then a regent is appointed to rule in his stead.” He looked thoughtful. “If a lady rules as regent, it’s quite possible that she is the current prince’s mother.”
“She must be a formidable lady,” Gwen murmured from beside Arthur. “Few women would have the resources to take on such responsibility.”
Arthur nodded, agreeing. Education was spotty even amongst the nobility. Nobles usually made sure that their sons had enough education to succeed them or to begin their own path, in the case of younger sons, but their daughters rarely received even that much consideration. Often they were taught the basics of household management and that was it. It had been a point of pride for his father that he had seen both his heir and his ward both extensively educated, well beyond what was customary. Gwen herself had learned much of what she knew from being present during Morgana’s lessons.
Leon brought their attention back to the subject at hand. “Sire,” he said hesitantly, “are you certain now is a good time for you to be traveling out of the kingdom? Though Helios is deceased and his army either dead, captured, or scattered, the Lady Morgana is still at large and we still have no leads on her whereabouts.”
That was a good point. Arthur did hesitate to leave Camelot when it was still under threat from Morgana. She had lost her military backing and her spy, so the threat was much reduced, but Morgana was nothing if not resourceful. What if she should try something, make another deadly bid for the throne, while he was away visiting Cornwall?
On the other hand, Arthur couldn’t spend the rest of his days arranging his life around Morgana. He said as much to the others, adding, “I refuse to allow her to control me or Camelot in such a way. We must certainly make provisions for while I’m away, but I won’t let fear of what Morgana might do keep me from living my life.” Not to mention, he wasn’t certain he wanted to insult a woman who had sent him and his kingdom sorely-needed supplies out of the seeming goodness of her heart.
It was perhaps a haphazard way of announcing his decision to take the offer of a visit, but no one said anything about it. Taking a deep breath, Arthur thought quickly. “Merlin, you’ll be coming with me,” he said, “as will Leon, Gwaine, Sir Cador, and Sir Samuel. The rest of you,” he nodded toward Elyan, Percival, Geoffrey, and Gaius, “will remain here and assist Gwen.” When Arthur turned toward his wife, he met her wide, dark eyes with his own. “Gwen, I will be leaving you in charge of Camelot,” he told her, his voice softening. “Everyone will report to you, and you will wield my authority here.”
Arthur took a quick glance around the table. Merlin was beaming. Whether it was because Arthur had ordered him along on this trip or because he had made the unprecedented decision of leaving the Queen as the kingdom’s regent, he didn’t know. Arthur was coming to realize that he seldom really knew what was going on in his former manservant’s head. Gaius was as inscrutable as ever, while Geoffrey was eyeing Gwen warily. Arthur sincerely hoped there would not be any issues on the historian’s part. He valued the old man’s expertise, but he wasn’t going to let old-fashioned notions of ‘a woman’s place’ hinder him. He had every confidence that Gwen could do what he was asking her to do.
He turned then to Elyan and Percival. “I trust you two with command of the knights until I return. Sir Bors and Sir Hadrian will be of use there.”
The two knights glanced at one another briefly, and then nodded. “Yes, Sire,” Elyan murmured.
Arthur eyed his brother-in-law briefly. He had been rather closed off and solemn in the weeks since Camelot had been retaken. Gaius and Gwaine had told him of what Morgana had done to him, using some cursed snake creature to torture Arthur’s destination out of him after he and Merlin had fled. Arthur hoped that by leaving him as a source of support to his sister’s regency and a co-command of the knights, he would restore some of the other man’s confidence. If that turned out to be too much, then he trusted Percival to keep the situation under the control.
Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Sir Bedwyr’s delegation was only planning on staying for a short time, four days. He stated that a permanent ambassador might be forthcoming from Cornwall if we were interested in pursuing an alliance with them, but that I could discuss the details with his lady if I should come to meet her in Tintagel. We’ll depart with them.”
Solstone
Horrible news. Lord Aurelius has been killed, murdered. The messenger apparently rode non-stop to Solstone, and was greatly weakened by his long journey. His horse was nearly dead when they arrived. It took some time to get the entire story out of him, and was done as Aunt Ygrisa fussed over and fed him a broth brought from the kitchens.
Aurelius and Uther’s efforts to raise an army have borne fruit over the past year. They have sorcerers in their ranks, led by the sorceress Nimueh, as well as extensive cavalry and infantry, some of which my uncle provided from his own forces. They have even managed to obtain coin enough to pay them, thanks to their ties with the Houses of Tregor and de Bois.
According to the messenger, Aurelius had taken a small party away from the main body, intent on hunting game along the border of Camelot. They were in the forest, on the trail of a wild boar, when they were set upon by a large group of disguised, armed men. Despite the ambush, Aurelius and his men fought valiantly, killing many of the enemy, but Aurelius suffered a mortal wound in killing the ringleader. Help was sent for, but he died before Uther’s physician-friend, Gaius, could get to him. The survivors of Aurelius’ men were able to interrogate the surviving attackers, and obtained the name of the one who sent them - Vortigern. Yet another Pendragon corpse can be laid at that man’s feet. Only Uther lives now. According to the messenger, Uther is preparing to march on Camelot not just to reclaim what is his by right, but also to avenge his family’s assassinations.
My uncle has offered the assistance of the rest of his own soldiers and knights, and is even preparing to ride with Uther as a full-fledged ally. Agravaine will accompany him, since my uncle thinks that, as his heir, Agravaine needs battle experience. Tristan, much to his fury, will remain behind. Aglovale isn’t so foolish as to risk both of his sons on a risky venture such as this. They leave for Brieland at dawn tomorrow, while the rest of us will follow in a few days.
I asked my uncle why he was willing to side with Uther. Despite the support that the other man has accumulated, it will still be no easy victory over Vortigern, who is firmly entrenched and Camelot and whose army still outnumbers Uthers at least two to one. Aglovale didn’t answer me at first, but then finally told me that the future rests in men like Uther, men who seek to bind together the various people of Albion. Uther will stand against barbarians like the Saxons, not give in to them as Vortigern has a history of doing. My uncle thinks that it is in Uther that they have found a man who will help beat the Saxons back, and as such he won’t abandon him.
“It is far better to be the friend of such a man, than an enemy,” he said.
Part Three