“That I know,” the King returned. His voice sounded tired, as worn and ravaged as his face. “Men will also say that I ride out against my own son.”
“You ride against a traitor!” returned Cei forcefully. “You,” he said, turning his attention to Merlin, “this was of your doing! If your knowledge was so great and all owerful why—“
But Arthur replied with more strength in Merlin’s behalf than he had for himself. “Waste no time, brother, on the counting of many ‘ifs’ which lie in all our pasts. Merlin did only what was given him to do. And it is on him that all our success will lie in the end.
Merlin, startled, regarded the King narrowly. There had been a note in Arthur’s voice when he said that, as if suddenly the talent of farseeing had been given to him.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“When the hour comes,” the King continued in that same assured voice, “then it shall be known to you, kinsman. We each have a part to play, ill-fated though such may be. It is, as you have pointed out, Cei, well that we move to the playing of them now.”
They rode out of Camelot, not ablaze with colors waving and high confidence in their might, but soberly, yet not in any degree showing that they believed their mission any the less rightful than when they marched against the invaders.
News was brought to Arthur. The forces had indeed split, and it was true that many of the great lords, perhaps through jealousy as Cei had foreseen, were either holding aloof from taking sides or had openly joined Modred. He had dared to raise the Dragon standard and proclaim himself High King, Arthur being no fit ruler.
Cei laughed harshly when that was reported at their second night’s camp.
“He is a fool,” he said bluntly. “Does he believe that Lot, who waits now to see how fortune favors us, would allow him more days on that unsteady throne than it would take him to offer Modred open challenge?”
If Lot was one who waited, Constans of Cornwall was not. With his Boar banner waving proudly, he brought his train of fighters into Arthur’s camp. There before all gathered he reaffirmed his sworn allegiance to the King. So an old ill was forgotten and Arthur gained heart thereby, for Constans was the son of Goloris’ son, and the only other true-born lord of Arthur’s kin.
On the fourth day, when their army had been augmented again by two troops of the Black Horse fresh from duty along the Marches, Arthur called council, meeting with those lords and commanders who had remained true to their allegiance.
“We march now.” the King said with a harsh note in his voice, “against those who have been sword brothers and shield comrades. A hundred times or more have we faced a common foe and braved the threat of death together. It is not meet that we now turn steel against one another in anger. I will not put aside my crown, not because I choose to be king against the will of all men, but because I will not step aside from my duty to this land. Yet it is a very grievous thing to slay old friends.”
He paused but no man of that company spoke up. Merlin thought that Arthur had not really expected any answer. Then he continued slowly:
“Let no man be able to say in days to come that I do not wish well those who have been seduced from me by lies. Therefore, I would send a messenger to Modred and say to him that we should meet in open company, all weapons sheathed, and speak together, that he break not a peace so hardly built.”
Constans, who was the greatest of the lords now in that company, though almost the youngest also, then answered him.
“Lord King, this is the act of one who has indeed thought of others first. Few men who have had a bard sing against them would hold out a hand in peace to those who sent that bard. If you go meet this traitor, then I shall stand at your side!”
“And I—I—I—“ They had caught fire. Merlin saw. No one there, having looked on Arthur’s face as he spoke of that offer, would ever say that it was one made out of fear; rather it came from his love for Britain, which he had served nearly all his life long.
So one of the oldest of the lords, a certain Owien, who had in his youth ridden in Ambrosius’ own bodyguard, offered himself as messenger. And Arthur, knowing the high respect in which all men held Owien, was well pleased. Having the King’s words given to him, Owien went forth from the camp. And they rested, waiting through a day and a night. On the second day Owien returned.
He came directly to Arthur, “Lord King, I have spoken your words to Modred. There was some talk among his people, urging this and that, but at last he agreed that it shall be as you wish. He has said to meet with him at the Lesser Stones of Langwellyn, bringing with you ten of your lords, as he shall come with ten of his. The priest Gildas spoke up saying that Merlin must not be one of the ten, for he would lend the Devil’s own strength to you. But Modred laughed at that and said he had something which would defeat any Devil’s work. Lord King, with their forces rides the Lady Morgause, yet she is not aged, but is even as she left the court at Uther’s sending. And with her is the Lady of the Lake. Men look sidewise at them, even in Modred’s company, for it is not natural that age has not touched the Lady Morgause.”
“If She be the Lady Morgause at all!” snapped Cei. “Uther had bastards in plenty and this one may even be a daughter of one of them, if she looks so young. It is but another trick for the undoing of our lord!”
Arthur gestured as if brushing aside this addition to Owien’s report.
“All that matters now is that Modred has agreed to this meeting. Let us take heart in that.”
But later, when night had closed in, he came to Merlin. “You have powers,” he began. “Can you use them over Modred, making him repeat before his lords words which will commit him to peace? I do not believe that one man should command another so against his will, but tills is a man who would plunge our world into blood. If there is anything I can do to stay his hand without a killing, that I shall attempt.”
“It depends,” Merlin answered as frankly, “on how well Nimue has armed him. Mark his reply to Gildas made before Owien. I have done what I can to weaken her power. But I shall not know how well I have succeeded until we have a trial of strength. Be sure, however, that all I can raise in the way of force is at your disposal, kinsman.
“More than that I do not ask,” Arthur returned. “I wish that it had been given me to learn as you learned. For at this moment I feel that I need more than human strength and will to aid me.” He rose slowly, “Well, let us sleep, if any sleep will come to us. Tomorrow brings either peace or blood, and which choice we cannot now foresee.”
“There is this,” Merlin told him. “They have appointed a meeting place in the middle of ancient stones. If this is part of some forgotten temple, even as the Place of the Sun, then I can command more of the Power to our service. For much lies sleeping in such places.”
“Providing they are not places hostile to us.”
“Lord King, I have found many such places in this land. Only once has any had the stench of the Dark about it, and that was the hold of Nimue. I hope that none was built elsewhere.”
If the King slept that night, Merlin did not. He lay on his cloak, his eyes closed, to be sure, but his mind awake; he sought through his memory for anything which might prove either armor or weapon. Piece by piece, word by word, he assembled all he knew, all he had learned from the mirror that might at this time add to his inner forces. He understood that this was a trial of strength with Nimue, perhaps the final battle between them.
Though he had not slept, yet the morning found him alert and eager for that confrontation. And as they moved on, he fingered his wand as a boy might finger his sword hilt before his first battle.
They came to a place which was like a finger of firm earth poked into marshy land. There were ponds here and there, some scummed over with green, others clear but dark, with water reeds and the strange growths of such country standing tall. On the finger of firm earth were the stones Modred had named, while on the slope of the hill on the other side were drawn up the rebel forces, making a parade of banners.