The Exile

Part II

Chapter X, Respite

"Gaius?" Merlin spoke softly hoping the old man might wake but not truly wanting to wake him. When the old man did not wake at his gentle prodding, Merlin sighed and went to his collection of magic books. After Agravaine had questioned Gaius on suspicion of treachery, Merlin had taken magical measures to hide his forbidden books. The warlock lifted his eyes to the ceiling. With a few simple words it opened, dropping the tomes into his waiting hands.

              Walking back to the citadel had given Merlin time to think. Arthur could search all of Britannia for Gwen and miss her a thousand times over but magic might find her where all else failed. There were means of scrying and seeing in his books, now was the time to make use of them.

              Merlin shut the door to his little room and with a few quick words the candles flared to life. There was always cleaning needing to be done in his room and today was no exception. Laundry littered on the floor, papers, medical logs…he spent so much time cleaning up after Arthur. The young man cleared a space on his bed and sat down with his back against the dull plaster wall and began reading. He found the information he wanted easily enough. Merlin smiled he had recalled correctly

              He was considering two options. Dowsing to find her and seeing to discover the outcome of her encounter with the bandit or bandits.

Seeing unfortunately was not like spellcasting or the magic he could do with just a thought. Visions could only be summoned by meditating. Some methods included the use of various tools such as bones, tea leaves, fire reading, tarot cards, the flight of birds, the list went on. Unfortunately none guaranteed a clear vision to a non-seer. Dowsing was more precise. It could be done with a crystal; the steps were very specific. He would know immediately if he were doing it properly.

When dowsing a sorcerer or sorceress selected a crystal and bonded with it. Once bonded with the crystal they concentrated on the person or thing they wished to find. If a map could be used the crystal would point to a location on the map indicating the presence of the lost person or item. If the area being searched was too small for the use of a map, the crystal could be asked to point in the necessary direction.

              Merlin weighed his choices. Kilgarrah had assured him that Gwen was either safe or… He did not want to come unknowingly to her gravesite. So while he might want to find her immediately, he knew he must first summon a vision to learn what had been the result of her encounter with the bandit or bandits.

              A powerful sorcerer -and he was one- could call a vision simply by meditating upon that which they wished to see. This method was recommended as there was little room for misinterpretation. Merlin placed his pillow on the floor and sat on it tailor's style, facing the east. Merlin took a deep breath filling his lungs and chest before releasing it slowly. He concentrated for a time on his breath and slowly began to build the image of Gwen in his mind as he'd seen her last.

              Purple cape belted at the waist, dark curls lose about her shoulders, expression full of sorrow, and weariness as she walked from Camelot alone and defeated. His heart constricted at the memory and Merlin forced himself to concentrate on her as she looked at him over her shoulder. No sooner had he created the image then he thought of The Shade and then Morgana. How for the first time he truly hated her and how he regretted not taking one of his many opportunities to kill her. Then he remembered that he was supposed to be focusing on Gwen and scolded himself for letting his mind wander to The Shade and Morgana.

              He couldn't let his hatred of Morgana or his grief for Gwen distract him. He needed to find her. Arthur needed to know Gwen was alive.

              He saw in his mind's eye Arthur sitting on the floor, eyes glued to Gwen's ring and crying the most broken, sorrowful sound he'd ever heard. He should have killed Morgana when he had the chance. Gwen would be here right now if he had.

              Merlin groaned aloud and opened his eyes.

              What had the book called the mind, the chattering monkey? Merlin told his chattering monkey to shut-up and began again with the candle flame and the chant. He had a feeling that this was going to be one of the most difficult things he'd ever done.

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Arthur woke, hard edge of the table pressed against his cheek. Merlin stood over him. His usually cheerful face frowned down at him, pale rather than flushed with life and color. Dark circles under his eyes gave him a ghoulish cast.

"Morning, here's your breakfast," the manservant held the tray expectantly.

"Morning," Arthur's voice came out gravely and hoarse.

Merlin nodded toward the keepsakes spread over the surface of the table. "Shall I-"

"No!" it came out it as a sharp, panicked command.

Merlin rocked backwards, a look of surprised confusion on his face.

 Arthur ignored him and quickly gathered his treasures, hiding them safely from the sight of the world including the leather cord that Gwen had worn the ring on.

"Merlin has Sir Elyan departed?"

"His horse is still here but his quarters have been cleared out."

"Find out if he's requested another mount." 

"Yes sire."

He needed to do something for Elyan. Do something about Tom's unjust death. Why he hadn't done anything sooner… Merlin sat a rather perfect looking breakfast tray on the table.

"Sir Leon can take over drills this morning."Merlin said, "I've got pages ready with messages to carry to the councilors canceling council for the duration and-"

"-Everything will go on as usual Merlin. My men need training and my kingdom needs me to run it." Arthur rinsed his mouth and chewed the cloves Merlin had provided to clean his breath and teeth before starting his meal.

"You can't pretend that you're unaffected by this," Merlin countered "You love Gwen-"

"That's enough Merlin." He clenched his hands into fist "Get me the flood reports for Waymet; I'll review them as I eat breakfast."

"She loved you-"

"I said enough." He turned to look at the other man, "What am I supposed to do declare a year of mourning for a woman that many people would happily see dead? I'm too early in my kingship. I want the flood reports on Waymet Merlin now."

A moment later Merlin sat a sheaf of paper s on the table. Arthur studied his breakfast plate, it was beautiful, like something George would have put together. He heard the whooshing sound of drapes being drawn and cheerful sunlight flooded the room. Arthur popped a grape into his mouth. It was time to get some work done.  Unfortunately his beautiful breakfast had no taste.

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He gripped the edge of the table and stared down at the wood grain trying desperately to breath. Arthur found himself in council with his grief coming on him from nowhere it seemed; sorrow pulling at him like an undertow.

"Sire are you well?" Was that Lord Troy's voice?

He didn't look up, "We're done." His voice was husky and a part of him wondered if they knew why. He thought he would be fine.

He didn't see the councilors shooting worried looks at one and other or Merlin's hands clutched tightly around a sheaf of papers.

"Sire?" It was Lord Gildas now and his tone betrayed confusion.

"We're done, now, leave all of you. You too Merlin."

Arthur hears the scrape of wooden chairs against the floor.

"But sire?" Merlin objects.

 There is the rustle of robes, confused murmurs and feet moving in the direction of the door. The pain surged, swelling like the tide and Arthur clenched his hands together, willing himself to remain calm.

"You, too, Merlin." he says each word slowly and carefully without raising his head.

He hears the door is shutting as his head drops to the table.

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Gwaine was feeling downright responsible and he didn't like it one bit. Instead of spending his free time drinking, flirting and bedding available wenches, he was chasing after Arthur, Elyan and Merlin, making certain that they were well and that none of them did anything foolish.

              He didn't take Gwen's possible death lightly. He just- his friend's needed him. He did feel terribly guilty though. What had he been thinking to let her go off alone with just a letter and some funds? Certainly she should have been safe if she stuck to the roads and villages but things rarely went according to plan.

              They were in Gaius' chambers. Worried about Arthur and feeling out of his depth, Merlin had asked for their help suddenly. Something he had not done in a long while. He, Percival and Gaius sat at the table. Merlin stood arms crossed leaning against the wall looking desperately unhappy. There was a time when he had thought that he and Merlin were friends, now Gwaine was not so sure.

              "Gwaine! Did you hear what I said?" Merlin's tone was waspish.

              "Yes, third council meeting cut short this week."

              "People are starting to talk." Merlin grumbled.

              Percival grunted and pushed back from the table, thinking.

 Gwaine let his eyes travel over the collection of tubes, bottles, sticks, papers, straw, stones, masks and the seemingly endless clutter that covered every surface of Gaius' room.              

              "Grief takes time and we may yet get some news of Gwen." Gaius said and Gwaine frowned. This was far more of an optimistic Gaius than he was used to.

              "It's creeping up on him," the knight said at last and Percival nodded.

              "Creeping up on him?"

              "Yes. Arthur's a strictly disciplined and responsible man but his feelings run quite deep. Uther was a bully, only his feelings about things mattered. So Arthur learned to set his feelings aside," Gwaine frowned."He does this now without being aware of it. But that takes a certain type of concentration whether he knows it or not." Merlin was listening attentively now "Drills, training doesn't really require a lot of his attention so he can focus on keeping it all together but the council meetings need concentration, focus. Once his attention is diverted he's not concentrating on holding his grief down so it creeps up on him. He probably sits in there and broods for hours."

              "So what do we do?" Merlin said at last and all eyes went to Gwaine.

He hated being responsible.

              Gwaine took a deep breath. "I'll talk to him."

              Merlin leaned forward quizzically.

              "Trust me; I know exactly what to say. Can you make sure he is in his room by himself after dinner Merlin?"

              He nodded.

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Gwaine went first to the kitchens for a wineskin and goblets. He'd been weighing this since Elyan had laid the blame for Gwen's apparent death at Arthur's feet. They did not yet know one way or another, what had become of Gwen but he knew precisely what Arthur felt. Sometimes the ear of experience…He wished some letter, some word would come from Adras.

He knocked on Arthur's door.

"Enter," Gwaine took a deep breath and pushed the oak doors open. Arthur was sitting at the table where he sometimes conducted less formal audiences. He wasn't often in the king's quarters. Usually he saw Arthur on the training fields, in the training hall or the dining hall where they often took meals in a group. He surveyed the rooms for a moment.  They were neither Spartan nor ostentatious, the few pieces of furniture pleasing to the eye without being distracting. A few shields and banners decorated the walls, proclaiming the history of the king's family and their successes.

"Sire," he bowed.

"Come have a seat."

Gwaine sat down and poured himself and the king a gobletful of wine. He moistened his lips suddenly nervous waiting for Arthur to drink first. When the king merely nodded in his direction Gwaine lifted the goblet to his lips and finished it in one go. Fear gripped him and he poured himself another goblet of wine.

 He leant against the ornately carved wooden splat of his chair a moment before leaning forward.

"You wanted to talk to me about something." Arthur prompted eyes narrowed, tone heavy with impatience.

Gwaine traced the rim of his goblet with one finger.

"I've never told anyone this story but" he found suddenly that he wanted to. He drew in a breath and let it out "I think perhaps it is time I do so."

Arthur's brows knitted together in a frown and Gwaine took that as a queue to begin.

"I loved a woman. I wasn't supposed to but I did." For a moment his eyes slid over the carved edge of the table. "She was a friend of mine and wanted a child desperately. Her uh- spouse couldn't give her one so they begged me to do so instead."

Arthur leaned forward and Gwaine knew he had the king's undivided attention.

 "I refused at first but their want for a child weighed on them and eventually I gave in. It took a while, months actually and she was sweet, kind and pretty. Of course I came to love her but she did not bear the same love for me."

              He took a deep breath and closed shaking hands about the stem of the goblet.

              "They were both very happy when she finally conceived. I felt guilty of course and it hurt knowing that she did not have the same feelings for me that I had for her. But seeing their joy, I felt that I had done the right thing. Eight days after the boy was born she died of childbed fever." He finished the second glass of wine and finally looked at Arthur. The king's expression was closed and Gwaine worried suddenly. He rubbed sweaty palms on his trousers and spoke quickly.

"So I didn't want to oblige them in the first place, I loved her and I wasn't suppose too and I wanted her to me love the way that I loved her even though I knew better. Shit I still love her and finally, I feel that I killed her. And I also felt that I had no right to mourn her, she was never mine to love in the first place. All that is to say I know exactly how it is that you are suffering." He meet and held the other man's sea blue eyes then "Give yourself a respite. Say you are ill or some such and talk to Merlin or me when you need to." Gwaine drained a third glass of wine.

              "Did you give yourself a break?" The king questioned at last and Gwaine sighed.

              "Me?" he snorted "I hired out my sword and rode all over Britain drinking, wenching and picking fights. True fact, losing your true love is the best way to pull women."

              "Oh." Arthur said weakly.

              The hum of the cicadas reached their ears and the summer breeze stirred the drapes. Arthur took a sip of his wine, finally.

"At least you have a son."

              "My son is with the person that wanted him." Gwaine took a deep swallow from his wine glass "At least she loved you."

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Three days after laying the blame for his sister's death at the king's feet Elyan son of Thomas rode out of Camelot. Merlin had come to see him again, as had Gwaine, Percival, Leon, Bedivere and Kay. Before leaving he had paid a visit to long time friends Enid and Daffyd.

Enid told him some wild story about Gwen having been tricked into her affair by the nobles offended by Arthur's choosing to marry a commoner. He gave her a hug and thanked her for her loyalty. She agreed to take care of the house for him. He visited the cemetery to pray for his mother, father and Padrig and beg his ancestor's forgiveness for his poor choices. Then he rode out of the citadel certain he would never return.

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Arthur canceled a month of summer's council meetings. If need be, they would go a month into the fall. Gwaine was right, he needed respite.  The councilors could return to their homes for a month or take in the hospitality of Camelot if they liked. He still drilled the knights in the mornings and then had a few private audiences in the afternoon and met with a councilor if necessary.  He considered recalling his uncle. The man could be useful but the thought of Agravaine lit a certain rage in him that he could not shake no matter how unfair it maybe.

"The messengers have gone out with her description." Merlin said.

He pushed away from his work table and walked to the window overlooking the courtyard.

"They understand their instructions?" Arthur watched their horses move out.

"Yes, find her but do not engage, report back to you."

"Exactly."

"What'll you do if you find her?" Merlin asked.

"I… I don't know." Arthur admitted. He wanted to bring her back but… "Merlin there is something else I've been considering." He faced his friend. "Would you like to bring your mother here?"

The manservant stared at him.

"Here?"

"Yes, would you like her closer? I can't promise you she'll be safer, but maybe…"  He fiddled with Guinevere's ring, uncomfortable with Merlin's shocked expression. It implied that being considerate of his friend was something so far from normal… He needed to be more considerate. He had thought it enough to give commoners and nobles the same treatment, same respect.

"I-I don't know. I'd like to have her close, but she may not want to leave her home."

"Of course. Very well, ask her and make sure she knows that the offer stands.  Whenever she happens to come we will find a place for her here."

"I will," Merlin grinned at him and Arthur felt something akin to humor stirring inside.

"Arthur did you hear the story about-"

Merlin was trying to cheer him up and a part of Arthur was grateful, but- Ever since Elyan had returned with Guinevere's ring…

"You killed my sister." The swell pounded the shore-

Merlin was being the perfect manservant, breakfast was always timely, his clothing was clean and wrinkle free, and he did almost everything Arthur ordered without the usual back talk. And it was all a waste. Arthur ate little and only left his quarters to train the knights.

"so the bartender says-"

"I'm exhausted Merlin."

"Yeah…How'd you know?"

"Merlin," he spoke more forcefully "I'm feeling rather tired. Let's finish up so that I may retire soon."

"Oh. Yeah, right of course."

Arthur saw Merlin's disappointment but had no words for him. He couldn't be the person that Merlin was looking for, not right now.

"I recommend you meet with the mason's guild head. Morgana is still out there and they have some ideas about reinforcing the battlements. And you'll need to see Lord Gildas tomorrow and the Duke of Cornwall."

Arthur rolled his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was meet with the Duke of Cornwall but the man was too powerful to ignore.

"Very well, please extend Sir Gwaine and Sir Percival the same offer I gave you regarding their family."

"Yes, sire." Then less formally, "Thank you Arthur."

"You're welcome. That's all Merlin."

For a moment Merlin looked as if he might say something more, but then he bowed and left.

Arthur started to pace, the shadowy sea of grief and pain swelling around him.

Why had Guinevere betrayed him? If she hadn't they could have been married already. They could be happy right now except, perhaps she wouldn't have been happy. Perhaps she didn't really love him; she'd only said it that one time. Rage surged in him then.  Arthur kicked over his armor stand.

'She loved you.' She'd said it to him in so many words more than once and she'd shown him as well. Guinevere was a woman of action, she had deftness with words, but when something was important to her she acted. She'd begged Lancelot to look after him[1]  when she thought he was going to cross the veil, and she'd looked after his father, whom she loathed, for love of him…

Arthur sank into the chair that he'd had positioned by the window, first his father and now Guinevere. Was it his fate to always suffer so?

No, not his fate. He knew that Gaius believed the old sorcerer wanted to help but Arthur could not fully accept that. His choices had ultimately killed his father and perhaps his actions had driven Guinevere into the arms of another man and then to her death.

"You're inappropriate." [2]

He could only imagine how that must have hurt her. Maybe then she started to reconsider her choice. How could he have been so foolish? After promising her for years that things would be different when he was king he had failed at his first chance to prove his promise. He hadn't suddenly discovered that there were people who would disprove her rank or lack thereof; he'd simply turned yellow for a moment. It wasn't fair to place that burden on her. For a moment he wondered idly how his mother might have advised him.  

Arthur walked to the window. It was full dark now. He pulled on a clean tunic, trousers, boots and his plain blue cape. He was tired, but he could not sleep here.

There were ways out of the palace where no one need ever see him; tunnels that led directly from his rooms and into the lower town. These were on neither map nor the palace plans. Uther had forced him to memorize them when he was ten years of age.

He pushed, 1,2,3 nondescript stones in the wall and smiled as the corner opened to reveal a hidden tunnel. He maintained it himself keeping the door hinges oiled and the tunnel dust free. Just inside the door he had torches, oil-soaked rags and flint. But he ignored these; Arthur knew the way in the dark. He pushed another stone on the inside and the door swung shut with a gentle thud. Arthur counted his steps as he went, peeking here and there into the halls of the palace before he left it behind descending into the damp earth. The king came at last to an exit in the middle town. He dodged the patrols and kept to the shadows, making his way to Guinevere's home. This was not the first night he'd done so. He felt pitiful doing it, but couldn't stop himself.

He looked right and left making certain the streets were empty before slipping into her cottage.

Arthur felt his way in the dark to sit on the bed, wooden floorboards creaking under foot, mind racing back to the times he'd visited her here. The tournament of course, that evening he'd talked to her about knife throwing and kissed her in what had once been her father's work room.[3] The evening she had made him dinner and they'd sat up all night talking and- He felt hands begin to shake and he pulled her ring from where it lay against his chest. He studied it in faint sliver of light granted by the waning moon.

Why had she said yes, if she meant no? He would have accepted her rejection if she felt uncertain. He would have been miserable and broken and perhaps selfishly he might have fired her but she would be alive, safe, here… 

He reached for her purple cloak, the thing that brought him here night after and wrapped it round his shoulders. Her tiny bed once decreed torture to sleep in still had its same bedding and Arthur laid his head on Guinevere's straw filled pillow. Her scent -lavender, vanilla, honeysuckle- clung to the bedding and her cloak.

"Please be alive." He whispered it into the darkness.

 Wrapped thus in her scent, Arthur let his eyes drift shut. Sleeping where she'd slept so many times before, he could tell himself that she yet lived and sleep without nightmares.

Things continued thus for some time. He spent the hours of the day avoiding the court and his subjects, hiding behind weariness. Occasionally he let Merlin convince him to show himself to the people. He received visits from a few councilors, but kept to himself more often than not. He thought often of Guinevere, but also his father, his mother and sometimes even Morgana. He could not sleep in Guinevere's house every night, but he did so thrice weekly. Then one night the unthinkable happened. He slipped into her cottage and found the bedding along with her purple cloak had been removed. Elyan was the owner of the property he might have removed Gwen's things but Elyan was gone. He cried over this and hated himself for it, but it was like losing her all over again.

When this new grief momentarily abated he stumbled out of her home. It held no comfort for him now. He ducked into the shadows between buildings and crouched at the sound of a patrol, his mourning was no one's business. Arthur remained crouched and desolate long after the patrol had passed. And that was how he came to hear it, a scream and then shouting. Unready to return to the palace Arthur hurried in the direction the shouts had come from, past a few houses to a tiny cottage not much larger than Guinevere's. He went to the door of the cottage but hesitated. It could just be a personal quarrel. There was a thud and the sound of pottery breaking.

A blood curdling scream rent the peace of the night and all hesitation was lost. Arthur kicked the door and threw himself against it twice before breaking it open and stumbling into a crime scene.  The cottage was dark. The light of a few lamps cast shadows over everything. Overturned furniture littered the one room home. A young blonde woman lay naked and unconscious on the bed covered only partially by a sheet. Two men grappled on the wood plank floor. One dark-haired and fully clothed, Arthur recognized him as an employee from the palace, a man by the name of Rolfe. The second man was fully nude and vaguely familiar.

Fighting was certainly not illegal but if the woman was hurt she needed help not two fools rolling around on the floor.

"Break it up." Arthur commanded. Rolfe still in his servant's livery put his fingers round the other man's neck. Fighting wasn't illegal but murder was.

"I'll snap your neck John."

Arthur grabbed Rolfe by his shoulders and pulled. The other man came away far more easily than expected and they both stumbled backwards the servant's weight dragging him down.

"Rolfe?" A moment later the most foul stench filled the room. Arthur recognized it immediately the scent of intestines being opened. Frowning he brought one hand to his nose and looked down to see Rolfe's blood and guts spilling over both of them. He didn't need to check his pulse to know that the other man was dead.

Arthur looked at the murderer, John. The other man seemed to be weighing his next actions, knife held fast in his fist.

"Do you not recognize your king?" He demanded angrily.

John studied him for a moment and dropped he knife. Arthur eased the servant's body to the ground. He took a deep breath and pulled himself to his feet; mind already guessing at what he had walked into. He vaguely recalled something about Rolfe being recently married, to a Susan- no Sarah! He looked down at the young woman, the events of the evening clear to him.

"You're under arrest for murder, fighting in the presence of the king and adultery."

John backed away. That surging tide of grief swelled high with sudden anger as Arthur advanced on him.