The Knight Behind the Pillar (32 page)

             
Adrenalin pumped purpose into each step and hitting of the stone floor send echoes around me.  My jaw clasped shut, my muscles of my neck tensed with determination to the point of aching.  If I could not reason with Arthur, or least find the bravery to do so and admit I was there at this time, I was going to have to deal with this in another way. 

             
In minutes I was standing in front of Merlin’s door and after less than a second, I walked straight in and did not bother knocking.

             
He was seated by a table to a corner of the room.  There were a great number of flickering candles around the room, causing equal number of shadows.  Why so many I was not clear, but they provided enough light to see by and I could see a book and mug on the table before him.

             
“Aha, the boy from behind the pillar.  More questions have you?” Asked Merlin, not giving any indication of shock or upset at my unannounced and uninvited arrival. 

             
I stood there glowering with intent, the door wide open behind me.  “In a way!  It’s about Arthur’s sword.” I ventured and my mind racing despite my outward confident.

             
“Yes a fine sword, an extraordinary gift and I hope it serves him well in the times to come.” Merlin commented even-handedly, receiving his mug to take a drink. 

             
“Extraordinary things tend to happen to Arthur.” I observed.  My tone was sharp and baited. 

             
Merlin nodded agreeing and after taking a slip of his drink added.  “In my experience I have found that extraordinary things happen to everyone at least once, such events might change the direction of their lives forever while for others they fail to notice the given opportunity.  For the truly great there will be many such times where extraordinary things will happen and for each such time that person will seize the opportunity.  I suspect Arthur is and will be one of those people.”

             
As long as it’s what Merlin wants him to seize I thought to myself, but said “Like the opportunity presented today at the lake.”

             
Merlin paused before answering, eyes narrowed with a thought.  What words passed between us unspoken, many could be found hidden in our poised expressions, the slightest movement of the eyes and forehead.  Yes, Arthur had told me his version of events and yes Merlin could have naturally assumed that this was all I was referring to.  Instead Merlin straightened up and returned my stare and it was clear that pleasantries, while they might have been dipped in poison, were over.

             
“Have you exchanged a pillar for a tree I wonder?” He suggested.

             
There it was!  The realisation in his eyes that I knew the truth, but he covered with such calm and confidence within himself it still unsettled me. 

             
It was however a release for my attack.  I stepped forward now, my growing anger all too clear.  “I saw what happened and the woman was no magical figure or deity.” I stated crossly.  “She swam from the shore with the sword in hand and a hollow reed in the other.  She waited for you both to arrive and then surfaced as if from nowhere having been breathing through the reed just below the water all along!”

             
Merlin was quick to reply to my assertion.  “Spying is not a virtue of a knight young Tor…”

             
“Nor is lying a virtue of any man, sir.” I snapped back, now also annoyed at the calmness he displayed and his lack of real reaction.

             
“I can promise you no lie has passed my lips.” Stated Merlin, unmoved still.

             
I reached the table.

             
“Rubbish!” I shouted at him.  “Anyways the absent of truth is just the same, your actions are the same as any spoken word.  That sword has no power, it’s not extraordinary.  It is a fine sword, of significant value I have no doubt but nothing more!”

             
He leaned back, but not in fear of me, just to find comfort in the old wooden chair.  “What does Arthur believe?” He asked unconcerned.

             
Fury dripped from me.  “What do you think!  Your lies have blinded him.” I excused, but my confidence waned a little. 

             
“Say you are right.  Say I have misled our king.” Merlin said offhandedly, “What will you tell him?”

             
“The truth.” I answered at once. 

             
“So why are you here now talking to me?  You wish to be a knight and serve the interests of truth and justice.  Well then, here it is an opportunity to serve some justice.  Why have you not taken what you think is true to your king?” Said Merlin, yet still unruffled.

             
Red faced, hot from the feeling of hate alone, I continued to stare back as did he.  I could not be sure if he had blinked once from the moment I had entered the room.  Truth was my plan was to scare him away, if he knew I knew what a fake he was then he would leave or beg forgiveness or even beg for his life.  The truth would be revealed to Arthur when he sees only dust remaining as Merlin runs away.  In my plan’s place the old man saw through me.  I suddenly had Bedivere’s words of warning running through my head that I failed to think ahead!

             
“I admit I’m still thinking about it.” I said, it was all I could say and it was weak and was defeat.

             
Merlin’s expression lit up for a moment.  “Then maybe there’s hope for you yet,” He said delighted, “Thinking, that is so rare in most people, I’m impressed.  As for this matter let me provide you with some thought to help.  You tell the king what you saw and the king is made to look a fool.  A fool who believes in a lady in a lake, who believes in a powerful sword or indeed powers beyond this mortal world.  You may have got rid of me, but at what cost?”

             
It would be another lie for Arthur to bear and I hated to agree and hated to admit I had already gone over this, but Merlin was right.  I knew Arthur would be destroyed, not just because of the confidence that would desert him or because the people would question his leadership that had only just begun, but simply because it was another lie from someone he seemingly trusted.  Maybe it was this was very much the reason I had failed to say anything to Arthur earlier and failed to deal effectively with Merlin now.

             
“It’s still wrong, you’re a complete fraud!”  I accused.

             
At this Merlin stood, his chair rattled on the stone floor as it was pushed back.  I did not step back as such, but my body was not leaning forward anymore. 

             
“For what you may think I have claimed to be I no not, but I have spoken no lie.”  He unflinchingly declared.  “I promise you the sword and scabbard is as I have said.  The sword is the most powerful sword in the known land and its scabbard will protect him.”

             
“And the woman in the lake, some….”

             
“Tell me boy who are you to question me!  What knowledge of the world beyond do you hold?”  Interrupted Merlin, no longer as relaxed and carefree as before.  He stepped forward towards me.  “I will not explain myself to you, but I will say this.  Do you think Arthur would believe he had the most powerful sword ever forged in his hands right now had someone just told him it was so?”

             
“No, I doubt it, but it’s not.” I protested holding ground.

             
“The fact that Nimue does not answer to the will of man at our convenience is no matter.” He answered, clearly cross now, but he recovered himself and as quick as he had reached me he walked away waving his hands as if dismissing me.  ”Go tell him what you wish, but before you do make sure you have judged the harm of your actions and have the patience to see what affect Excalibur has first.  Now get out.”

             
I hesitated before leaving at first refusing to simply obey.  Yet when I was clear my point was made, I went as instructed with a growl and ensuring I slammed the door behind me.  It was a child’s act, a symbol of my true desire to achieve something, even if it was to shorten the expectant life of a lump of timber and provide support for rust’s war campaign on its hinges.

             
So far I was getting nowhere fast and there was a sense of urgently as any moment Arthur could decide to have a go at killing himself even before tomorrow! 

             
In the end I walked for a bit with no direction in mind and eventually just stopped in an empty corridor.  The fort had become quiet with only the odd passing sound and as the night took hold and bed had called in most of its servants.  Tomorrow Arthur will be killed!  Was it likely?  Duelling or just someone stabbing him on his command while at this war meeting to prove his belief in Merlin?  Either way he was an idiot.  If not killed what if he was injured and how badly and how foolish he would appear to everyone.  The humiliation itself was an injury he might never recover from.  The faith of the people already had to accept a squire as king no matter what birthright he had.  To accept a fool as a king, one who believed himself untouchable would I believed be asking too much.

             
I had to stop it, stop him, but knew Arthur would not just hand over the sword and its scabbard.  Illusions and whispers and a dream of a magic sword provided by Merlin filled his head.

             
So what to do?

             
What remained of torches lined the hallway; their flicking light now struggled to keep the night at bay.  How late it was I did not know.  This was none of my business, why should I risk my life for him, take his punches, care for anyone or have faith in anyone!  It was good enough for my father.  He cared for nothing except his kingdom….no, not cared that was wrong.  He cared for his rule of it, his way was the only way, his forests, his castles, his horses, his men and his subjects and his power.  His sons as well I supposed.  As long as we followed his rule and his will. 

             
My hand had found itself touching my face, a memory I wished to forget.  No tears, never any tears.  Another lesson learnt well.  Men, sons of Pellinore don’t cry.  You might feel the pressure on the chest trying to crush you and it rising up within to reach the back of your eyes, but you hold back and stop it.  Never let go of the edge of control.

             
I screwed my hand into a ball and flung it against the wall behind me.  I did not hit it hard.  It was a gesture nothing more, pointless, but enough to find the calm again.  I turned and leaned on the wall for a while.  I was not my father because I did care!               I had already given my oath of loyalty to Arthur and I did not just say words without meaning them.  More than that he was a friend, a recent one, but one I was determined to keep.  Compared to what my father might do, I was going to help Arthur even if there was nothing in it for me.  If I had to I would tell him everything, but I had another idea how I could help now.  This was a racial solution to the problem and not without risk I knew, but a better outcome for everyone as well.  This plan would be different than before.  Taking a horse to chase Arthur had not intended to be stealing, I was going to return it and not meant to lose it, but this would not be the same as taking the horse.  I was going to take the sword and I meant to lose it. 

             
By now I judged Arthur would be asleep, my plan would be to go to his room and steal it.  He would think a thief sneaked in, a servant or one of the townsfolk and there were many strangers to the town to blame.  Knowing there was now a guard at the door, I decided I would use the servant’s stairwell that I hoped was still forgotten.  The solution was simple and meant that Arthur would be protected from everything from potential embarrassment, pain and death.  Merlin would still remain, but he would be a matter for another day.

             
I took a deep breath and moved off the wall.  I was going to save his life or at least his humiliation.  I had never lied so much to a friend or stolen from anyone before and yet I knew I would be doing the right thing.  Convincing myself was hard, especially when doing the right thing frightened the life out of me.  This was stealing and in normal circumstances of say an apple from a stall it would be a week in the stocks.  If you took something of more importance you might even lose a hand.  With this in mind, stealing a sword from the king was treason and that was a punishment of death.  There was a range of methods to achieve death and each flashed distinctly through my head.

             
One step took a long time.  The foot was heavy with thought, the same thoughts over and over.  Once I took another step it was easier and once I started walking I was committed.  As it was when I reached the doorway to the servant stairs I was determined to do the right thing.  There was no one around and I plunged myself into its darkness. 

             
Having used the stairway with Arthur and then to enter his room to sleep when he was mostly praying at the chapel, I knew the way well despite the night.  Robbed of sight the journey up was by touch, after a few steps the ends of my fingers were numb from the cold stone walls.  Smell was involved, but it failed to guide me only turn my stomach.