“My opinion,” the bishop announced importantly, “is that Morgan is right. For the wrong reasons, as usual, but the Stone must be replaced where it was found. Its presence here-”
“Among all these tempting jewels and all this valuable gold,” John said.
But Gildas ignored him and went on. “Its presence here is blasphemous. The Most High is displeased. Return it, and the plague will end.”
This left Merlin reeling. “You are not serious, are you? You and Morgan-actually agreeing on something? On a religious matter?”
Serenely Gildas announced, “Even a blind pig can find an acorn.”
John snorted at him, doing a perfect imitation of a pig. “You are referring to yourself, aren’t you, Bishop?”
Gildas faced the king. “The Lord has spoken. Camelot must be freed from the baleful influence of this pagan thing. England must be rid of it.”
“You are serious.” Merlin had had a moment to reflect. “You are really serious. You believe this preposterous skull caused plague to erupt in Dover?”
“Great is the power of the Lord.”
“Of course.”
“Well. That settles it.” Arthur looked grave. “It is clear what we must do. Both Morgan and Gildas say so. I don’t understand it, Merlin. I doubt if even Gildas, here, does. But it is clear this stone has brought a curse down upon England.”
“From which god or gods, precisely?”
“Stop it, Merlin. I will have Simon prepare a travel party. Perceval will come along; we will need him to show us the exact spot where he found the skull.” To Merlin and John he added, “And I will want the two of you to accompany us.”
“No, Arthur.” Merlin spoke firmly. “I should remain here, to coordinate the fight against the plague. Even now, my assistant Colin is drafting instructions for burying the plague dead. They must be buried outside city walls, where they will be less likely to spread the disease.”
“That is all well and good, Merlin.” Arthur put on a formal smile. In his heartiest manner he patted Merlin on the back. “As usual, you render excellent service to the country. But Colin may remain here to continue that work. I want you to come on this journey.”
“Colin is not a trained physician. He can hardly-”
“Enough. I want you along, and that is that.” He pointed a finger at John. “You, too. Please don’t be difficult.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I’ll come along and hold your hand. It is only fitting that I come, after all. Merlin is right-this is a fool’s errand.”
Merlin laughed. Arthur frowned. Gildas persisted. “You are certain I am not to be permitted to examine this evil thing more closely?”
“Quite certain.” He forced a slight smile onto his lips. “You will come along, also?”
“It is not my habit to travel with court jesters. But if Your Majesty wishes it…”
“I do.”
“Then of course it will be my honor to travel alongside you, Sire. But now, if you will excuse me, other duties call. It is almost time for Vespers.” He bowed slightly.
John started to make another snide remark, but Arthur cut him off. “Of course you may go. I am most grateful for your counsel. England is a finer land for your presence here.”
Merlin rolled his eyes skyward at this. John laughed. And Gildas, ignoring them, bowed again and left. As he was going, John called after him, “My regards to your dress-maker.”
Gildas paused slightly, then sped up his pace. In a moment he was gone.
Arthur turned to face the boy. “Now you go, too.”
“But Arthur, I thought you wanted me at your side.”
“Go and eat your dinner or something.”
“Yes, sir.” And he followed the bishop.
As soon as the boy was out of earshot, Merlin, frowning, confronted Arthur. “He is one of your bastards. There is no other reason you would put up with him.”
“My-! What the devil do you mean?”
“The devil is precisely what you’ve gotten up to, far too many times. Exactly how many of them have you sired? The two who died last year, and this one, and-how many more?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Go back to your tower, Merlin. Read a book, or write one. I’m in no mood for this.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me that obnoxious boy is not one of your illegitimate sons.”
“I have to meet Sir Bedivere in the courtyard.” He started to go.
But Merlin caught him by the sleeve. “Arthur, I know it is a king’s privilege. But do you not think you have overdone it? It must have occurred to you that keeping them secret will only lead to more unpleasantness. Does it not occur to you that this may be what drove Guenevere to her various rebellions?”
“I was faithful to her. Right up to the day she-”
“Of course. Arthur, how many are there? Have you ever met a pretty country girl you didn’t rut with? Keeping all these sons secret can only lead to unpleasantness. You must be aware of that. Even you, with your dogged determination to avoid inconvenient facts till they smack you in the eye.”
“John is a good boy. A bright boy.” Arthur raised a finger and pointed at Merlin. “Even you must have seen that.”
“Granted, Arthur, but-”
“Of all of them-and no, I don’t know the number-of all of them that I know of, he is the brightest.”
“And so you have made him your fool.” Merlin’s disapproval could not have been plainer.
“He has a gift for sarcasm,” Arthur said weakly. Then a bright thought occurred to him. “Like you.”
“Do not attempt to change the subject.” Suddenly he had a revelatory thought. “All this talk of yours about finding a successor-!”
“Merlin, don’t.”
“That is what is at the bottom of this. But Arthur, you cannot possibly think that making him court fool now will make it easier for everyone to accept him as king when the time comes. You have sabotaged the boy and your own plans for him.”
“He-he-”
“Yes, Arthur?”
“I like him. He likes me. Do you have any idea how rare that is between a father and son?”
“I do. But Arthur-”
“There were others. The two boys Mark killed. You remember them. I loved them. I loved their mother. Surely you would not deny me the simple joys of love, Merlin?”
“No, of course not. But love in royal families is the exception, not the rule. You love this one?”
“Yes, unlikely as it seems.”
“Then why have you put him in a place that is certain to make everyone in Camelot loathe him?”
Arthur froze; this was a new thought to him. After a moment’s thought he said, “I will simply have to keep him close to me, that’s all.”
“How long have you known him? Do you know him, really, at all?”
“I will not let any harm come to him.”
“Can he fight? Can he defend himself, if it comes to that? No, not if, when.”
“I will keep him safe, Merlin. I will.”
“I hope so, Arthur. I do not mind telling you I am beginning to like the boy.”
“Good. I want you to like him.”
“But he has spent his life raising geese. He is hardly prepared for court life. I only hope that you have not turned him from a goose farmer into a sitting duck.”
Camelot was abuzz with the news that Arthur would be making a pilgrimage to rebury the Stone of Bran. Simon of York was busy preparing the entourage. John and-against his wishes-Merlin were to go along on the journey. Various functionaries would accompany them, as well as a retinue of knights and squires. Gildas was to go along, but Arthur wanted Morgan to remain at Camelot; she bristled at this and insisted that at the very least she should return to her own castle, but Arthur was quite firm. And of course there would be enough servants to tend everyone. It was a large undertaking to be planned impromptu, and Simon was in his glory, fussing over details and complaining about everything.
Arthur hinted that he had come up with a strategy to ensure the party’s safety as it progressed through the territories of possibly hostile barons. Britomart disliked the plan-she said it was far too risky and wanted to go on the journey herself. But Arthur was adamant. “With Merlin gone, you should be here to keep a careful eye on the plague and all the problems it may cause. You will have absolute authority to deal with it any way you see fit.”
Brit was unhappy, but acquiesced to the king’s will.
When Merlin returned to his study that evening he found one of Marian’s twin sons waiting for him. The boy seemed anxious; his hair was unkempt, his clothes disheveled. “Please, sir, I want to go with you.”
“With me? Where?”
“Please, sir, on this journey to Wales. Everyone has heard about it. I want to go.”
Merlin peered at him. “First, tell me who you are.”
“Who I am?” The boy seemed puzzled. “I am Marian’s son. You remember.”
“Yes, I do. But which one?”
“Oh. Oh, that. I am Robert. I’m afraid I forget that my brother and I look alike.”
“You are twins.”
“Wayne loves having a double. I hate it. I always have.”
“I see. And how does your mother feel about it?”
“She loves having twin sons. She encourages us to dress alike, talk alike, do everything as similarly as we can. I have always disliked it. Very much.”
“Then?”
“Mother is a strong-willed woman. She wears me down. Wayne sides with her. But I have never liked being one of identical sons. I never will. That is why I want to come on this journey. It will get me away from them, at least for a time. And for that time I can be myself. I don’t get many opportunities for that. I want to be Robert, not part of a set.”
Merlin sighed. “I see. Families. My own was no bed of roses. Still-how would your mother feel about this?”
The boy stiffened. “Does that matter?”
“Possibly to her.”
“I’m old enough to be on my own.”
“Yes.” A faint smile crossed Merlin’s lips; Robert was not certain what it might mean. “I suppose you are.”
