by Whyte, Jack
Merlyn sat for a moment as though weighing what I had said, and then he nodded abruptly. 'True," he said. "From your viewpoint and as you perceive it, absolutely true. But look at it for a moment, if you will, from my viewpoint. What if I were to suggest that your journey was not merely useful but necessary, and utterly unrelated to anything you have envisioned? I have been thinking about that for some time now, but most particularly since you arrived here today, and I now believe that is the truth."
I had no idea what he meant, and seeing my incomprehension, he said, "These," and bent down to the floor at his feet and picked up the fat leather wallet I had given him on my arrival, an hour earlier, the wallet that contained all the documents Germanus had sent me to bring to his attention. He had accepted it graciously when I presented it and had then asked for my indulgence while he scanned its contents. His examination had been cursory, for the most part, and he had set several documents aside with barely a glance, quite irrespective of the imposing bulk of some of them.
One document, however—it appeared to be an epistle several pages long—had claimed his full attention, bringing him to his feet with muttered excuses as he walked away to read it in a muted whisper in the afternoon light of the window embrasure. That document now rested securely in the folds of his long outer garment, but he had stuffed all the other papers back into the wallet that he now brandished in front of me.
"The information contained in this wallet is the true essence of your task here in Britain, Master Clothar. I suggest to you now that it is the sole reason for your being here today, far more important in Germanus's eyes than the matter of Arthur's coronation. I invited Germanus to participate in that event because I knew his presence would add dignitas and authority to what we did, but he and I both knew, back then, that the event would take place whether he was present or not. So . . ." He paused, continuing to look me directly in the eye, then began again.
"Ask yourself this. Why did Germanus send you here, to me? He could just as easily have sent you directly to Enos at Verulamium. The letter you brought to him explained everything to Enos, did it not? Anything that he asked you after reading it was born of curiosity and not of a burning need to know important details, is that not so? Am I correct?"
I nodded, unsure of where he was going with this, and he returned my nod with greater emphasis. "Aye, so here is what I believe." He raised the leather wallet and turned it back and forth in front of my eyes. "I never gamble for pleasure, but I would be prepared to wager a substantial amount that if either Arthur Pendragon or my affairs in Camulod and Britain are even mentioned in any of these documents, it will be but briefly and in passing, to illustrate some point or other that Germanus wants to bring to my attention. For Germanus did want—and still wants—all of my attention to be focused upon what is here in this package. I have no doubt of that, and you should have none, either."
"The letter that you read so carefully, then, was from Germanus." I spoke it as a statement, not a question, but Merlyn answered it.
"It was. From his hands, to my eyes. When he compiled these documents, and sent you off to bring them here to me, he could have had no knowledge of how events would develop—no one could have known that, at that time, including me. And so what happens? Think about this. Here in the west, in Cornwall and Cambria, in the aftermath of our victory over implacable enemies whose sole intent was our destruction and the obliteration of everything we stand for here in Camulod, great passions were stirred up and momentous events began to unfold that could easily encompass all of Britain and change life throughout this land. And then I received word from Bishop Enos that Germanus was unable to come as he had promised, but that he had exhorted Enos to stand in his place and to organize the events surrounding Arthur's coronation so that they would demonstrate credible, solid evidence that the new Riothamus would have the blessings and support of God's Church in Britain to assert and reinforce his authority." He held up his left hand, and a young man whom I had not previously noticed but who had evidently been awaiting such a signal came rushing forward. Merlyn stayed him with an upraised finger and looked at me.
"Are you thirsty, Master Clothar? I am. I have been talking without rest for almost six hours today. We have mead and beer, and even wine from Gaul. I am going to have some mead, myself. What would you like?"
I thanked him and asked for mead, too, and the youth vanished as quickly as he had appeared. Merlyn settled back farther into his chair.
"As soon as I had read the letter Enos sent to me, and read the copy he had attached of Germanus's letter to him, it became clear to me that they were both right and that it was of vital import to our cause to hold the Riothamus coronation in Verulamium. It had not occurred to me until then, but once aware of it, I could not deny the rightness of it. Physically, the great theater there has a grandeur not to be found anywhere else in Britain today, and it can house seven thousand people—seated—at any time.
"Emotionally, too, the place recalls the glory days of Empire when, despite all the moaning and weeping that some people indulge in today, this land knew naught but peace and prosperity. And then there was the additional consideration that the theater has already served as a point of focus for the Church and the affairs of God, when it was used as the venue for the great debate hosted by Germanus himself two decades ago. And then, last in recollection but by no means last in order of importance, the place is neutral, politically speaking. If, as Germanus had suggested, Enos was to use his bishops and their influence to bring the regional kings and the clan chiefs of Britain to attend the events we were planning, they would probably find it easier to attract them all to Verulamium than to Camulod, first because Verulamium is more central—Camulod lying far to the west—but second, and more important, because Camulod itself stirs envy, and perhaps disquiet, in the hearts of the very men we wanted to attract."
The young man returned with our drinks, and Merlyn waited until he had served both of us and left again before continuing. "And so the decision was made, by me and me alone, to move the events we were planning to Verulamium in accordance with the wishes expressed by Germanus and Enos. You had already been here in Britain for several months by that time, and before you left Gaul, Germanus could not possibly have foreseen my decision or how a change in my thinking might affect his plans for you. And so you were in Verulamium—in the wrong place and at the wrong time."
He held up a hand quickly, smiling as he did so in order to deprive his next words of any sting or implied rebuke. "Allow me to finish my thought, if you will, before you object. Here is the meat of what I am saying: none of us, as it transpired, could have any real control over developments, once the entire affair of Arthur's crowning had begun to gain momentum. Had you been in Verulamium when I arrived, you would have been lost in the midst of a turmoil, because Arthur's armies had already been there for several days by then, and bishops and kings and chiefs and their various adherents and followers were assembling daily from all over Britain, all of them seething like ground oats boiling in a pot, and clamoring for my time and attention. The town was full to overflowing and surrounded by armed camps— Arthur's multiple encampments being the largest of all, although several of those belonging to some of the lesser kings were almost equally impressive, given that they lacked the horse lines and cavalry capacity Arthur commanded."
He leaned forward and looked me directly in the eye. "And so had you been there when I arrived, Master Clothar, and had I found the time to meet with you, our meeting would, of necessity, have been a very brief one, with no hope of discussing anything at length or in detail. You would have presented me with your documents from Germanus and I would have accepted them gratefully and set them aside to read later, with the best intentions in the world of doing so. But the matters you were bringing to my attention would have had nothing to do with the tumultuous happenings under way at that time, and thus, by definition, they would have been irrelevant in the context of Arthur's coronation. I would have had no other choic
e than to set them aside in favour of more urgent priorities. Do you take my point?"
I nodded, albeit grudgingly, and wondering what his true meaning might be here. "Yes, I do."
"Excellent, because my point is that Germanus's appearance in your tent that night was miraculous, and the sole reason for its occurrence was his need to remove you, to send you away from Verulamium before the storm broke and the chaos began to eddy and swirl about the town. Thus, your travels across Britain were quite the opposite of useless or futile. They were intentionally designed to keep you safely away from me until my work with all those other factors was complete and I could give my full attention to these writings you have brought for me. I believe that, Master Clothar. And I believe, too, that Germanus came to you the night he died and that his visit was a miracle tailored, perhaps for the only time in his exemplary life, to his own requirements and his personal priorities. He wanted you to keep this wallet and its contents away from me until now, when I can deal with whatever they contain and might require of me."
I sat gaping at him, unable to speak either to agree or disagree with anything he had said, and all he did was smile, watching the varying expressions as they crossed my face. Finally I coughed to clear my throat, and found my voice.
"That would make these documents extremely important."
"Extremely so, I agree. Germanus never was a waster of people's time."
"But what could be in them? What do they—?" I stopped short, abashed by the awareness that the answer to those questions was not for me to demand. The documents were for Merlyn's eyes only.
He did not react to my impertinence, however, but merely held the wallet now in both hands and raised it up in front of him, gazing at it. "I have glanced very briefly at some of them, Master Clothar, as you are aware, but I must confess I am eager to learn more. So, if you will pardon me, I will go now and make a start upon the task of reading them, for I think it might take me several hours to read through everything and absorb the meaning of it." He stood up and started to bid me farewell with a nod of his head, but I stayed him with my own upraised hand.
He eyed me courteously, one brow slightly raised as he waited to hear whatever it was that I had to add, but although my lips were parted, nothing emerged from my mouth, for I answered each point in my own mind even before I could begin to articulate it, until eventually I felt my cheeks reddening with embarrassment.
"Forgive me, Lord Merlyn," I said then. "I have half a hundred questions in my head, all of them demanding answers, but there are several that I find particularly distracting and frustrating."
"And to those you would prefer more immediate and satisfying answers. I can understand that, knowing how long you have been in pursuit of me." He eased himself back into his chair. 'Tell me about these other considerations, then, and let me see what I can do to set you at your ease."
I remained silent, nonplussed, searching for the correct response to his invitation and failing to find it. What was I concerned about? And then suddenly, two things crystallized in my mind and I knew where I must go in this. I cleared my throat again.
"I would like to speak to you, if I may, about your ward, Arthur, the new King. For two years now I have been looking forward to meeting him, anticipating the event of his coronation as Riothamus and savoring the opportunity to offer him my services and my support in his endeavors as High King. I have even persuaded my friends Perceval and Tristan to join me. So I was deeply angered to discover that, through no fault of my own, not only had I missed his crowning in Verulamium but I had also managed to be absent for the first important battle he fought as King—his first strike against the invading Danes led by Horsa, and in all probability a battle that could define the course of his reign.
'I know it was an important battle—how could I not know? It is the talk of the land. Everyone has been talking of little else since it took place. Believe me, Master Merlyn, we have heard about it from many people, but none of those from whom we heard of it was actually present at the event—not one of them. None of them saw the fight, none of them knew the truth of what occurred, and the information they passed on to us when the tidings were fresh and new was already polluted by ignorance and the boastful claims of empty-headed loudmouths." I drew a deep breath, forcing down the anger that was always so close to welling up in me nowadays and compelling myself to remain calm, at least in my speaking.
"We heard reports of everything that went on ahead of us as we crossed from Cambria to here, Master Merlyn, and we could trust none of it to be free of distortion or bias. On the purely personal level, all I really know to be true is that great events have been unfolding far from my ken and that, despite a deep belief that Bishop Germanus sent me here precisely to be involved in these events and to stand with Arthur the King and his people, I have somehow managed to miss all of them—to the point of utter and unhappy ignorance."
As I spoke, intensely aware of my own frustration yet unable to control a burgeoning sense of unwonted anger, Merlyn had turned his head towards the fire basket, and when I had finished, he sat silent for a while longer, his lips pouted in thought.
"It is easy to see why you are angry," he said at length. "On the matter of the King's coronation, there is little I can do to ease your disappointment. I know there are stories circulating concerning what went on at the high altar, and I know, too, that they seem incredible and undeserving of belief. But I can offer you a few hard facts that are indisputable, despite their appearance of being fantastical. Mere moments after the King's corona had been set upon his brow at the high altar by Bishop Enos, and after swearing a mighty regal oath to use his armed might to defend God's Church against all pagan and godless aggression, Arthur Pendragon drew a magnificent long-bladed sword from the altar itself—from the altar stone—in full view of thousands of people. I have seen the sword, and held it in my hands, and there has never been a weapon of such beauty and splendor ever seen before, in this land or any other. That is the truth, Master Clothar. These events occurred. I was there and saw them take place with my own eyes. And as the new King held this wondrous sword aloft for all to see, a beam of purest sunlight shone through a gap in the clouds above and outlined him in golden glory in an unmistakable demonstration of God's own approval of his crowning and his sacred oath.
"Those events you missed and their like will never occur again, and I regret deeply that, after all the troubles you have gone through, you were unable to witness them. I can assure you; however, that you may trust my version of what occurred that day, and you may also be assured that Arthur will be happy to accept your sword, your service and your loyalty when the two of you eventually stand face to face. Lose no sleep over that one, Master Clothar. Arthur Pendragon has a mighty task ahead of him and he will require, and be grateful for, all the assistance, loyalty and support he can find.
"As to the other matter, the King's first battle, I can provide you with accurate information on what happened there. I have in my possession not only the reports of the battle but the plan of battle from the King himself, drawn by his own hand, and I will gladly share those with you at another time—perhaps even tomorrow, if Arthur does not return in the interim."
This was the first indication I had received since my arrival that the King was not even in Camulod, and I asked Merlyn where he had gone.
"He is on circuit patrol. Traveling around the perimeter of the colony, checking each guard outpost and patrol garrison, then striking outward to visit our outlying garrisons in surrounding towns and communities."
"The King does that in person?"
"Aye, and happily, of his own choosing. It enables him to meet and speak with his men as men, and he enjoys that."
"Commander to trooper, you mean, rather than king to subject."
"No, man to man, rather than superior to minion. It is important to him."
"Important to' his men, too, I'll wager." I was remembering Chulderic's story of how King Ban and my father had met Germanus. "How long mig
ht he be gone?"
Merlyn shrugged. "Who can say? It all depends upon who and what he encounters on his patrol, but we generally allocate ten days for each sweep—that's what we call our routine patrols—then add sufficient discretionary time for them to extend that by two days. After that, if we have not received word from them, we send out rescue squadrons."
"Have you ever had a patrol that failed to return?"
"Aye, several, but very few overall, in a sixty-year period."
"So you are not concerned about the King's absence?"
"Concerned?" Merlyn laughed. "No, not at all. He is not absent, Master Clothar, he is on a sweep, of his own lands, and he has only been gone for ten days. We expect him to return at any moment— he could be entering the gateway as we speak—but even if he fails to appear today, he yet has two days before we will begin to grow concerned. And even then, we would need evidence of some kind to arouse our suspicions to the point of sending out a rescue mission. This is not some junior subaltern or local kinglet, Master Clothar. Arthur Pendragon is Riothamus of Britain and a battle commander of supreme abilities. He will not be bullied, nor will he be easily dissuaded from completing whatever tasks he sets himself before returning home to Camulod."
I nodded. "Yes, I understand what you are saying. I look forward to meeting him."
"Good. You will, and very soon, I promise you. And now, if there is nothing else—"
"There is one more thing, if you will permit me?"
He hunched his shoulders expressively, his face indicating surprise but with a willingness to listen, and I felt myself flushing scarlet as the words that had been in my head began to drain rapidly downwards, avoiding my lips. Merlyn sat waiting.
