Chapter 12: An Onerous Duty
They arrived back in Camelot as the sun reached its zenith in a clear, blue sky. The clatter of the horses’ hooves announced the arrival of the prince and his party. Grooms ran out from the stables to take the bridle of Arthur and Guinevere’s horses, allowing them to alight with ease. Lancelot dismounted and as soon as he was clear of the saddle Merlin threw his leg over the side and slid to the ground. Lancelot handed him his pike and handed the reins over to a groom before following the prince up the broad limestone steps, motioning for Merlin to follow. At the top of the steps, they were met by a court runner.
“Sire,” the boy said, bowing, “The king demands your presence immediately in the council chambers.”
With a nod, Arthur paced the pale, tiled hallway, reaching the hall he sought with minimal delay. The doorway was flanked by two palace guards, who gripped the handles and pulled the twin doors wide open to permit Arthur’s party to enter. His father stood by the throne chair, his arm resting along its crest. It was clear that his father had assembled the balance of the knights to hear Arthur’s report in person. He watched his son approach and kneel, his face inscrutable.
“Father,” Arthur said, on rising, “the village of Affalon Ford has been razed. Nothing remains but a handful of survivors. There are many dead to be buried. If we do not wish disease to spread through Avalon like a plague, then a work detail must be sent tomorrow to bury those who have perished.”
“I feared as much.” Uther dropped his arm and took a seat in the throne chair, worry creasing his weathered face. “I agree. Grim though the task will be, a cohort of reapers will be sent to attend to the grim task. Has a priest arrived yet to care for the souls of the deceased?’
“Yes, Friar Antonio has agreed to remain until we arrive. He is caring for the living now, who will need further treatment back in Camelot.”
“Assemble the reapers, and send a physician with a long wagon to carry the wounded back to Camelot. A dozen men should be able to accomplish the task.”
“There is one other thing, Father. The creature that caused this destruction made an appearance while we were there.”
Uther straightened in his chair. “The creature? You saw it? Did you engage in battle?”
“Aye, we saw it. Father, there is no doubt that it has been conjured using magic. The beast is a dragon, with no flesh. It is literally a great, grey-boned dragon.”
“A skeleton? The dragon isn’t alive?”
“I do not know. I only got a glimpse of it. But there is someone here who did see it, up close.” Arthur turned and gestured for Merlin, who stood back by a fluted column at the back of the room. “Merlin, would you approach the king?” Arthur waved his hand, gesturing Merlin to come forward.
Merlin’s eyes darted around the room, then settled on the king. The Adam’s apple in his throat bobbed as he swallowed, then he joined Arthur at his side, kneeling before the king.
“My king.”
“Rise, Merlin. Tell me what you witnessed.” Uther leaned to the side, one elbow resting on the arm of the throne, hand clasping his chin. His eyes bore down on Merlin.
Merlin stood, suffering the grim-faced king’s scrutiny. “Sire, I arrived with Friar Antonio to help the injured. When the prince arrived, he asked for assistance in searching the village. The bone dragon attacked as we reached the main square and everyone sheltered in the church, but I was afraid that the dragon would turn on the friar and the survivors we had found earlier. So, I led it away from both the church and the friar.”
“The dragon chased you?”
“Yes, sire. I ran to an area that I had searched earlier, where I knew there was a destroyed smithy.”
“Yes?” said the king, with an impatient ring to the question. “What happened next?”
Merlin’s eyes darted around at the sea of faces, all focused intently on his words. “I grabbed a pole staff from the hearth of the forge and stabbed the creature twice in the chest. The first thrust had no effect, but with the second, it vanished.”
“You mortally wounded the creature?” Uther half rose in his chair, gripping the side arms so hard his hands whitened.
“I do not know,” said Merlin.
“What he says is true, sire.” Lancelot stepped forward to stand on the other side of Merlin, sandwiching him next to Arthur. “I, too, saw the dragon explode into a cloud of dust, and then it was gone.”
Uther sank back into his throne, then rubbed his jaw with his right hand. “We cannot assume the dragon has been destroyed. It could have been a lucky blow, one worthy of a knight of Camelot.” Uther eyed Merlin, his gaze sharp and considering. “Where do you live, boy?”
“At the abbey with my mother,” replied Merlin.
“You are too valuable to be wasted in the abbey,” said Uther, his eyes moving to Arthur. “You will be rewarded with a position in the royal household. Arthur will see to it.” Merlin’s mouth opened to protest, but at Lancelot’s sharp-toed kick, Merlin’s jaw snapped shut and he lowered his head.
Uther’s gaze swept the room. “You are all dismissed. Arthur, stay, I wish to speak to you further.”
Merlin and Lancelot bowed, then joined the flow of knights toward the exit, Lady Guinevere leading the way. The doors closed behind them with a hollow boom, and Uther rose to his feet.
“There are two things we need to discuss, one being the status of your investigation and the second, the ceremony in two days. What have you discovered regarding our mysterious theft?”
Arthur told his father the details of his investigation, leaving nothing out. “So, I am of the opinion that this theft, the missing kitchen servant, and the appearance of the bone dragon are all related. I think the girl must be a witch.”
Uther nodded agreement. “A very dangerous witch. You have done well. This girl must be found, but I can’t risk the crown prince to find her. The task has grown beyond what I am comfortable assigning to you at this time.”
“But, Father, I must prove myself! I am so close to apprehending the girl. Why do you doubt me?”
“This is not about doubt, Arthur. This is about protecting you.”
“The knights protect me, and I can protect myself.”
“The knights protect you at the cost of their own lives. When they could be united in their attack against this woman, they would rally to protect the prince, leaving them vulnerable. No, Arthur, this has grown to the stage where you need to withdraw from this task.”
“There are none who can wield this task, Father. Who would you send in my place?”
“Lancelot can handle the task. Has he not been at your side all this time? He has as much knowledge of these events as you do.” Uther held up his hand to halt Arthur’s protest. “No, Arthur, this is my word and my command. I want you to assign the boy to the task.”
“Merlin? You would send an untried, unknown servant to do, what you deny me, as crown prince?”
“I would send whomever I think can do the job while keeping you safe. What is the price of one servant and a knight compared to your life, Arthur?”
“I care not for the boy. But I would not see Lancelot hurt on my account.”
“Lancelot is sworn to Camelot and will do his duty willingly, a loyalty you have yet to display, my son.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed in fury. “When have I not shown you fealty, Father? To speak my mind is not treason. It is counsel.”
“It is not treason of which I speak, Arthur. It is your betrothal.”
“I have not asked for a lady’s hand in marriage. There is no betrothal to announce.” Arthur dropped his eyes, scared that his father would see the confusion in them. “There is no one I love enough to make such a commitment.”
“I know. That is why I will choose for you.”
Arthur’s head shot up. “No!” he shouted, his voice raised in panic. He stared into his father’s narrowed eyes, his shoulders stiff with disapproval. “I’m not ready for marriage!”
“You know the tradition perfectly well, Arthur. When the heir apparent is named, then his betrothal will also be announced. I will not part with this ceremony because you do not wish to do your duty. Like or not, your duty is to Camelot and to producing the next heir to the throne. So, I have decided that I will name the Lady Morga—” he cut off as Arthur shouted over his voice.
“Guinevere! I choose Guinevere!” he cried, his face falling into lines of misery.
Uther studied his son for a moment of silence. “The Lady Guinevere, it is. You have between now and the ceremony to ask for her hand, Arthur. Do not embarrass the noble houses of Pendragon and Camiliard by refusing to seek her permission to marry.”
“What if she refuses? She doesn’t exactly like me.”
“She has no more say in this, than you do, Arthur. She knows this. Every eligible maiden who will be in attendance has been hoping for your hand in marriage. Every one of them desires to be queen.” Arthur’s face was set in such deep lines of misery that Uther said, “What is it, Arthur? What disturbs you so? Is it that I am not allowing you to continue on with the hunt for the witch?”
“In part,” Arthur lied.
Uther sighed. “You have to meet with the abbot to seek out your spiritual advisor, for he also will be named during the succession ceremony. Go to the abbey and begin the ritual. Pray for guidance. I am sure the path will become clear to you, once you have confessed your sins in preparation for the mantle of responsibility that will soon be placed on your young shoulders. Let Lancelot continue the investigation, and perhaps you can join him in time.”
Arthur schooled his face, wiping away his emotional outburst of the last few minutes. “Thank you, Father. If that is all, I will take my leave and attend to my duties.”
“You are dismissed, Arthur.”
Arthur bowed formally, turned on the spot and marched for the double doors. He wrenched them open and with head held high, went in search of Guinevere.