Welcome to Camelot

by Cleaver, Tony

  “Merlyn, our noble and most trusted physician, I fear that not only the Lady Gwendolyn has need of thy services. Later tonight, wouldst thou send to my chamber some remedy for a sore tooth? It pains me much to eat this evening!”

  “I would be honoured, my queen. Soonest I have entrusted thy lady-in-waiting to her faithful servant I wilst straight-way look to my medicines on thy behalf. Tis good as done.”

  There was an opening here for Gwen to make a retreat. This had been the most nervous meal she had taken in her life and, with her stomach in knots, she could eat no more. She looked back at Kate, seated on the floor behind her and using her fingers to consume whatever titbits had been offered her way. Ravenous though she was, as soon as Kate felt Gwen’s eyes upon her she stopped, mid chew, frozen and awaiting her command. Gwen shifted her chair back a little and was delighted that the queen had noticed the subtle movement.

  “How art thee, my fair and favourite companion? Thou hast said barely a word beside me all this time? Art thou feeling poorly?”

  Gwen did her best to look feeble and washed out – not difficult but not something she had ever needed to do before. “My queen, I am. Indeed I am…may I, could I..?” She tried to make it obvious that she wanted to leave.

  “Sire…” Merlyn whispered to the king, “if I might accompany the Lady Gwendolyn to her rooms I shall then be able to attend to the queen’s wishes all the more swiftly…”

  “By all means, my friend. Go to; go to!” The king waved his hand, granting the required permission.

  Merlyn rose from his chair, bowed and stood to help Gwen do the same. All the knights in the hall stopped eating and rose as one as Gwen left the table. A nudge in her side bade her to bow her head to the company that was graciously standing respectfully, awaiting her departure. Another nudge bade her to curtsey to the king and queen who had remained seated. Then Gwen and Merlyn backed away, with Kate disappearing first before them.

  Merlyn steered them quickly out of the hall so that the assembled banqueters could return to their seats. Gwen was pleased just to get out of sight of them all – she could then afford to relax a little. Merlyn mentioned, as they found their way along stone corridors on the ground floor, that they had to take a different route back and up to her bedchamber and they could not go up the stairway out of the hall the same way as they had entered, since that would imply turning their backs on the high table – an unforgiveable indiscretion before the king.

  Gwen complained. She’d never much concerned herself about others’ sensibilities before and she resented such emphasis on all these pettifogging customs and conventions. In addition to putting up with this bizarre ritual, she had just stomached the strangest, semi-indigestible food she’d ever consumed; endured the most primitive and uncomfortable surroundings, been frightened of saying something that would lead to her losing her head and now she was being taken back to a dark, damp and draughty bedchamber where she was sure there was going to be no welcoming television set or iPhone or any company other than what appeared to be a silly, thirteen-year-old servant girl.

  Gwen came to a halt halfway along a long passageway after she had put some distance between herself and the banqueting hall behind her. She pulled Merlyn round to look at her. Kate dutifully stopped close by.

  “Now look, Merlyn, or Dai Mervyn as I know you. I think you’d better get one thing clear before we go any further. I’ve not lost my memory, as you put it. That’s a convenient story for the people here, so I’ve gone along with it so far, get me? But maybe you didn’t hear me before when I told you…the truth is – however difficult it might be for you to believe – I actually come from a different time to this. Same place – I think – but years and years in the future. Understand?”

  Merlyn looked patient, disbelieving, waiting for this charade to finish. Kate, as before, just looked worried about her mistress’s mental health.

  Gwen could feel her temper rising. “Look, I tell you what I remember: I got up in the morning in my mother’s house. I nicked a couple of quid for the bus fare and whatever, and then I came to this hotel where I’ve just started work, OK? Then my bloody hand started hurting more than ever,” she held up her sore finger to demonstrate, “and then I blacked out. I woke up above here somewhere with you lot for company.” She waved her hand at Merlyn and Kate.

  “Before all that, here’s more news for you, old man: buses go on roads! These are hard, tarmac surfaces where horseless machines run along them, fast and efficient-like, going here and there. And airplanes cross the skies, carrying people up in the air, really, really fast, gettit? And if you get toothache, like the queen seems to have, you go to the dentist who gives you an injection and he puts your tooth to sleep before drilling and filling it, using some amazing electric drill that would just about blow your mind, I reckon. We don’t have candles in the future, either. We just flick a switch and the light goes on. And hot water comes from taps. And if you want to pee or crap you don’t sit on some primeval pan but flush it all away down the loo with no one else doing the dirty work. Am I making sense to you, Merlyn? I guess not ‘cos I’ve seen things you can’t even dream of…” Gwen paused, running out of breath, though not running out of fire, frustration and fear about where she was and when it was all going to end. The sooner the better she hoped.

  Merlyn looked at her.

  “Thou art indeed the strangest creature that I have ever come across in my long and eventful life – there is no doubt of that, milady. The transformation of my Lady Gwendolyn can only have come about by some devilment that I fear is beyond my understanding. The hallucinations of which thou speak are indeed fabulous creations, full of what I can only call demons, dragons and the darkest forces from a troubled mind. Thy spirit is indeed in danger, my lady…” Merlyn shook his head sadly. Kate meanwhile was weeping uncontrollably and could not stop a quiet, desolate moaning, her poor face looking up at the two of them streaked with dirt and tears.

  Gwen was not stupid. She could see that what was beyond the understanding of people in this age would soon be labelled witchcraft. And that led only to one awful outcome, she was sure. But she would not give up yet. Calmer and more thoughtful now, she took a different tack.

  “Merlyn, let’s say that in my sleep I visited a different place and time. A strong magic got hold of me, OK? But what I learned there was that people, in that time and place, revered the name of Merlyn! You’re famous there. They tell tales of you being the most amazing magician ever. They tell tales of Camelot and how you made things happen here that no one has ever been able to do, before or since. You cured the sick, protected the strong and defeated all evil. Let’s see what we can do about that. The queen has got a toothache, right? Does she clean her teeth morning and night? I bet she doesn’t. I don’t suppose you use toothpaste here, do you? If you do, you wouldn’t get half as much trouble. I learnt that in primary school! That’s at least some magic I can suggest that will help you, and the queen and stop you all thinking I’m crazy…”

  “Milady, thy head is spinning faster and faster…” Merlyn warned.

  Gwen stopped. Yeah, she thought. I gotta get used to a different pace of life here…

  “OK, I got it,” she said. “I’ll promise to control the hallucinations and devilment, as you call it, but you’ve got to promise to try one or two things that I’ve seen in my visions of the future, OK?”

  Merlyn and Kate looked at one another. The doubt and fear was plain to see on their faces.

  “C’mon, you two. Let’s take this slowly, one step at a time…” Gwen thought hard, Paula’s dad said that Dai Mervyn knew all about the herbs and remedies you can gather from the wild. Start with toothpaste, she thought. I wonder if he could make up toothpaste?

  “Merlyn, can you make a paste out of something that really foams up and cleans the inside of your mouth? Nothing dangerous, like. Maybe with a minty flavour? You know – you wash the inside of your mouth and then spit it out, like washing soap off you…You do use soap here,
don’t you?” Gwen stopped again. Christ, she thought. I wonder if they even know what soap is…?

  “And what use would such a paste be, my dear lady, if thou spits it out? It neither satisfies hunger nor thirst but may instead just frustrate thy appetite.”

  “Oh c’mon, Merlyn. I’m sure you must wonder what causes tooth decay, bad breath and ruins a person’s smile? You’ve surely seen the state of the queen’s teeth. If you gave a woman’s smile and beauty back to her, you would soon be hailed as the finest beautician of the age…” Gwen grinned, showing a set of fine, white, undamaged, teenage teeth. Merlyn, sceptical as he was, could clearly see what she was aiming at.

  “And if you can make such a paste, what about a toothbrush?” Gwen asked. “Can you get a very small, fine brush made, its head no bigger than a fingertip? You use it with the paste to clean each and every tooth. Every morning after breakfast, and every night before bed. Do that every day and the queen’s teeth will look and feel healthier.”

  Merlyn looked at Gwen quizzically. It was a novel idea and it made sense after all the nonsense she had spouted.

  Gwen could see she was getting somewhere. “Then, when her teeth are thoroughly clean,” she continued, “you could examine them in more detail and see which one was the problem. Numb that one with cocaine or whatever you’ve got and see if you can fix it. How’s that?”

  Still Gwen wasn’t finished. Whilst Merlyn was silent, thinking through what she had just told him, out came another remark: “Here’s something else my mother taught me: Cleanliness is next to godliness, she said. See my finger? I didn’t clean it straight away. That’s where the demons got in. Any injury, Merlyn, any injury at all – you gotta clean it properly. With clean hands. No good if the queen has servants with unwashed hands waiting on her. That’s what they say in the future, see, what my vision showed me. Even if you can’t see them demons, they are still there. Hands have to be spotless if they are cleaning wounds or serving food, or whatever. Cleanliness is next to godliness. Gettit?”

  Merlyn snorted. He was loathe to take advice from a young woman he thought to be half crazy. Kate, however, was more amenable to persuasion. It was at least an improvement on the wild stories her mistress had earlier been recounting. Gwen smiled at her.

  “Kate, you and I have got to go to work on Merlyn here. We want to make him famous don’t we? We want him to impress the queen and make her beautiful, don’t we? Merlyn, you gotta do this. If not, I’ll turn into a witch…”

  “NO, my lady!” Kate almost shrieked in alarm.

  “All right, all right!” Merlyn gave way. “Enough, my lady. I’ll agree to thy contract if it saves thy life and that of thy loyal and true servant. Fear not, Kate, we will see this idea of your mistress through. The remedy I promised the queen shall be the paste thou suggesteth. I’ll see to it this moment. A brush such as thou dost recommend I shall have to search for – I yet may find one amongst the tools and implements I possess.” Gwen’s face suddenly grew worried. “Yes – have no fear, I shall boil it in water to kill any demons that you say may venture amongst the bristles. And I shall instruct the queen’s good servants how this medicine should be applied. We shall see then what transpires. Does that meet with thy approval? Wilt thou thus cease from frightening thy maid and all others with tales of horseless machines and men that fly through the air? Of lights that thou can command at thy bidding? Answer me that.”

  “It’s a deal, good Merlyn. No more strange tales. But I’ll save my ideas for improving toilets until another day. There’s some simple engineering there that will not frighten anyone, I promise!” Gwen laughed.

  The three of them resumed their journey through the castle’s lower passageway. As they passed the courtyard, Merlyn called a large wolfhound over to him. A big, grey, long-haired dog that stood almost as high as Kate came bounding over. It stopped on encountering Gwen, however. A low growl issued from its muzzle.

  “Keep that monster away from me, Merlyn,” called Gwen. “He’s the one that bit me before, vicious mutt that he is!” Her whole hand began throbbing with the memory.

  “Strange indeed, my lady.” The older man marvelled at his hound’s reaction, “Morgan here was a devoted admirer of thine before. But clearly he senses thou art different today.”

  “Too right I’m different. Just get him away!”

  Merlyn took the hint. He made his farewells and said he was going to his workshop where he would begin preparing the remedies that he would take to the queen. He directed his gaze to Gwen’s companion.

  “Dear Kate, thou most loyal and true servant: I entrust the Lady Gwendolyn to thy care now. Take her back to her rooms and keep her away from any interference, and away from any kind of trouble. I will return in due course and serve her a sleeping draught. But until then she is in thy hands.” With that, the old man and his dog departed across the inner bailey and disappeared through an archway on the other side.

  Gwen grinned to herself. She was not going to go off to bed like some meek and mild sheep just yet. It was still early afternoon; there was no one of the king’s court in sight; she was feeling fine, her spirits were up and there was yet much in this Camelot that she wanted to explore.

  “C’mon, Kate,” she ordered, “show me around this place before I return to my rooms. Let’s start with what’s over there…”

  Gwen marched determinedly in the direction of what looked to her like large kitchens. Kate, fearful as always, hurried after her. The two arrived at the wide open doorway of a scene of much heat and activity. People were busying about stoking large fires, boiling up caldrons of water, sharpening vicious-looking knives, and slicing up various animals – from small rabbits to larger chickens and geese, there were deer, and even wicked-looking wild boar. All were in the process of being transferred on wide platters into or out of huge stone ovens.

  “What’s all this, Kate? Haven’t we just eaten? The king and his knights haven’t ordered more, have they?”

  “The court always eats first, my lady. But Camelot is home to a great army of craftsmen, merchants, soldiers, servants, attendants and all manner of folk that support the nobility. And the king has just returned from a most successful foray in the forest. The food that is left over from the banquet is thus devoted to the all the rest of us that do not dine with the king. His majesty is very generous, as thou canst see.”

  Gwen took a few paces forward into the first of three, large interconnected kitchens. The nearest workers immediately stopped what they were doing and bowed respectfully. Gwen was immediately attracted to a large plate of juicy-looking blackberries, strawberries and other fruits of the forest that had been prepared and was standing to one side of the nearest woman dressed in a long, plain white apron.

  “Oooh, I fancy a taste of some of that,” Gwen exclaimed. It was something that indeed looked welcome and familiar – albeit was not smothered in ice cream that she was accustomed to on visits to Newport shopping mall.

  The aproned woman noticed the direction of Gwen’s interest and bobbed down in front of her, inviting her to take what she wanted.

  “Can I scoff some of that?” Gwen asked Kate discreetly. Her appetite had now returned, having earlier been shrunken by nerves and the sight of strange, heavy and less appetizing dishes on the king’s table.

  “My lady, thou art the queen’s favourite and all here know this. You may take whatever thou wishes and none would dare to object.”

  Kate feared to mention, and Gwen neither thought nor cared that the more she ate herself, the less there would be for the army of castle workers for whom all this food was reserved – and hierarchy ensured that the most valued and important ate first, the youngest, least skilled and poorest came last. Thus the berries and sweetmeats that Gwen consumed would never reach the fingers of the poorest children of the castle.

  Gwen nonetheless took a great handful of the dessert that had been prepared and nodded her thanks to the kitchen workers as she set about devouring her haul.

  �
��Umm, thanks, something…er…palatable at last…” she murmured through a full mouth as she wandered away. She looked around. “Where can I wash my hands now?” she wondered.

  Kate directed her to a well in the centre of the courtyard. A bucket half full of water sat waiting there. As Gwen stooped to rinse off the juice that stained her hands, a great stomping of horses’ hooves echoed around inside the castle walls. A knight and his squire had emerged from the stables and were preparing to leave. As the gatekeepers hurried to haul back the great oaken doors and open the way for the two horsemen to depart, the knight drew his horse up close to where Gwen and Kate stood by the well. He raised his helmet.

  “My Lady Gwendolyn, I humbly salute thee!” Sir Gareth bowed low in the saddle.

  “Milady! Return his salute!” Kate whispered.

  Gwen waved her hand and forced a smile up at the broken-nosed horseman. I s’pose I gotta go along with this, she thought. The knight and his horse, stamping and snorting, backed off a little and then, with another wave of his helmet, Sir Gareth said goodbye, kicked his steed and they cantered across the courtyard, past the gatehouse and away, Squire Brangwyn following. A cloud of dust was thrown up behind them as they disappeared.

  Gwen waved the dust way from her face, complaining bitterly. She then picked her way back across the courtyard to the stone passageway by which she had entered, tiptoeing carefully across the mud and gravel, desperate to avoid the horse manure that was splattered about in various places.

  “Bloody hell! What filth, what a mess those two leave behind. Ugly is not the word for it from that man!” Gwen reached the safety of the passageway and stepped onto clean, swept flagstones but still kept up her moaning. “What next, Kate? Return to a dark, cold bedchamber? What I’d give for decent carpets, comfy chairs and hot showers now. God, please get me out of here!”

  Kate dutifully led her away and via a circuitous route they reached a stone staircase and eventually climbed up to reach Gwen’s quarters.