Part 2: link


    “Where are we, anyway?” Gwen asks, shifting uncomfortably on her saddle. They had been riding for two hours already, and the گزشتہ night’s activities are disagreeing with her current mode of transportation.
    “Cornwall. King Marke’s kingdom,” Arthur says, glancing over at her. “Are آپ all right, Love?”
    “I could use a break, actually,” she says, blushing slightly. Arthur looks a little puzzled, but if his wife wants a break, then a break she shall have.
    “All right. Perhaps we can see what else the good innkeeper’s wife has packed for us.
    They had been munching some fruit and Arthur found a loaf of bread, but it was difficult to eat much else while ahorse.
    “Merlin,” Arthur calls ahead, “Guinevere needs a rest.”
    “Okay,” Merlin stops his horse and waits until they catch him up before dismounting.
    Arthur dismounts next, handing the reins to Merlin before going to assist Gwen. He reaches up and swings her down. She winces a bit.
    “Are آپ all right?” he asks quietly, his finger stroking her cheek.
    “I’m… a little sore, actually,” she admits, blushing and looking down.
    “Sore?” Arthur asks, his brow furrowing.
    She looks up at him through her lashes and realization dawns. Oh. OH. “Sorry. Perhaps we shouldn’t have… again… this morning,” he stammers, blushing now as well.
    “It was fun, though,” she grins, flushing further. Arthur stares, his mouth agape.
    “Uh…”
    “Ahem,” Merlin says quietly behind them. Perhaps I should have made them wait till we reached our destination before letting them get married, he thinks hopelessly.
    “Sorry, Merlin,” Gwen apologizes. Merlin, to his credit, ignores her flushed cheeks and dilated eyes, taking her horse’s reins from Arthur.
    “I think there’s a stream just there,” he points. “I’ll take the horses and let them drink.”
    “Wait,” Arthur says, reaching in his saddle bag for the parcel from the innkeeper’s wife.
    “I’ll be back soon,” Merlin emphasizes the last word, so they don’t think they can get up to anything in his absence.
    “Not quite how I pictured spending the first days of our marriage,” Arthur says, sitting down on a log, patting the space beside him.
    “I’d like to stand a bit, thanks,” Gwen says, chuckling now.
    “Indeed. Pie?” he withdraws a small pie, hand-sized, from the pack.
    “Thank you,” she says. “Wonder if it’s meat یا fruit?” she muses idly, not really caring which it is.
    She takes a bite. “Fruit,” she declares, smiling.
    “What kind?” Arthur asks, grabbing another, eyeing it expectantly.
    “Fig.”
    “Oh.” He puts it back in and starts fishing around for something else.
    “You don’t like figs,” Gwen laughs. She’s not asking; she knows already. She knows all his likes and dislikes. “Maybe she has other kinds in there,” she says, hopefully.
    “Well, the only way to tell would be to break each one open and look, and that wouldn’t be very… nice…” he trails slowly off, his attention suddenly elsewhere.
    “Arthur?” she asks quietly.
    “Shh. Let’s go find Merlin,” he stands and takes her hand, pulling her with him into the forest, further from the trail.
    They meet Merlin halfway, and Arthur immediately puts his finger to his lips to silence him.
    “What is it?” Merlin whispers once they are close enough.
    “People. On the path,” Arthur says. “I don’t want to take any chances.”
    “Right. I’m going to go closer and listen,” Merlin says, thrusting the reins of the three horses into Arthur’s hand and striding silently away before Arthur can react.
    “When did he get to be so brave?” Arthur whispers to Gwen. “And so quiet?”
    “He doesn’t have to hide who he is anymore, Arthur,” she whispers back, leaning up to kiss his jaw.
    Merlin creeps towards the road, crouching behind a large tree.
    “…going to be pleased with this stag, that’s for certain,” a gruff but friendly voice reaches his ears.
    “I hope she makes some of those fine venison sausages this time. You’ll do up these شکایت, کرنے کے لئے for me, won’t you, Bartley?” a سیکنڈ voice asks.
    “Of course, Sherman. We still owe آپ for that میمنے, برہ آپ traded us,” Bartley answers.
    “That میمنے, برہ had a broken leg. There wasn’t much else for him,” Sherman جوابات sadly.
    “I know, but with your struggling right now…”
    “Bart, I don’t need charity. As soon as I can sell my brother’s farm, I’ll be right back on my feet. Plus, Edeva’s been spinning like mad, getting as much yarn as she can make to take to the marketplace.”
    Merlin listens. Farm for sale? He stands, and as casually as he can, saunters out to meet the men.
    “Oh!” he jumps in surprise. “Sorry, آپ startled me,” he lies, striving to look as sweet and as non-bandit-like as possible. It’s not difficult for him.
    “Hello, stranger,” the one with Bartley’s voice speaks. The two men stop. Bartley is large and thickly-muscled, but with a kind, but red, face and speckled grey hair. His companion, Sherman, is thinner and shorter with black hair and warm brown skin.
    “Are آپ lost?” Sherman asks, noting the boy’s innocent and slightly befuddled expression.
    “No, just traveling. Took a break to water the horses, and I happened to catch a small part of your conversation as I was returning to the road. Unintentionally, of course.”
    “Oh?” Bartley asks, raising an eyebrow.
    “Um, sorry. آپ کہا something about a farm to sell?” he asks Sherman.
    “Aye. Are آپ looking to buy a farm, lad?”
    “Not me, but my cousin and her husband. They’re with me, still back with the horses. Would آپ be kind enough to wait while I fetch them?”
    “If it means selling my brother’s farm, yeah, I’ll wait.”
    Merlin disappears.
    “Arthur! Gwen! Come on, I think I just found us a home,” Merlin calls softly.
    “What?” Gwen asks.
    “There’s a man passing on the road with a farm to sell,” he explains, taking his horse from Arthur. The trio pick their way back to the road.
    “Thank آپ for waiting,” Merlin says as they appear. Both sets of eyes fall on Arthur, then Gwen, lingering appreciatively for a moment on the lovely girl.
    “I’m Marden,” Merlin holds his hand out to Sherman, then Bartley, who both shake and are both impressed سے طرف کی the strength behind the pale, thin man’s grip.
    “My cousin Goldevia,” he indicates Gwen, who nods and smiles.
    “Ma’am,” both men nod respectively to her.
    “And her husband Aldwin.” Arthur steps آگے and shakes both men’s hands.
    “Nice to meet you,” he says, looking each straight in the eye, finding them both to be decent, hard-working sorts who have nothing to hide. That’s a relief, he finds himself thinking.
    “Marden tells me آپ are looking for a farm?” Sherman asks, straight to business. He doesn’t care where they are coming from یا what they are doing, and that knowledge is a welcome comfort to the trio.
    “Yes, I am. آپ have one آپ are looking to unload?” Arthur asks.
    Sherman chuckles. “Indeed I do. Perhaps you’d like to accompany us? I’m afraid you’ll have to travel slower, since we will not be able to keep up with your horses, but it is only a short distance.”
    “The young lady may certainly ride, if she wishes,” Bartley says, smiling warmly at Gwen.
    “I prefer to walk, but thank آپ for your kind thought,” she says, smiling back.
    Arthur hides his smirk behind a cough and his hand.
    “Lead the way, my good man,” Arthur recovers himself.
    They head out, and Arthur compliments Bartley and Sherman on their quarry, and soon the three men are discussing hunting animatedly.
    Gwen grabs Merlin’s elbow. “Cousin?” she whispers to him.
    “I thought it best if we presented ourselves as being related somehow. We don’t know anything about these people یا their village and don’t know if they would find it scandalous for a woman to be living with two men, even if one is her husband,” he explains.
    “Very smart, Merlin. آپ could have been Arthur’s brother یا something,” she smiles, knowing full well that that’s how they think of one another anyway.
    “No. If I am your kin, then there is absolutely no chance for scandal,” he says emphatically.
    “Thank you,” she says, looping her hand into his elbow now, touched that he would worry about her reputation so. “And I suppose passing yourself off as my brother just wouldn’t be realistic at all, would it?” she jokes.
    Merlin laughs. “Not really. Cousin is stretching it enough. Though I do think of آپ like a sister, Gwen.”
    “Thank you, Merlin. I feel the same.”
    “Sirs, what is the name of this village?” Gwen calls ahead.
    Bartley turns back. “Lyonesse, Goldevia. On the very tip of Cornwall,” he announces, just as they reach the edge of the forest.
    Gwen gasps, a smile coming over her face as she gazes on the village. It is quaint and picturesque, with cozy houses and a marketplace she can hear مزید than see at this point. The world seems to drop away on the far side of it, and beyond, nothing but blue.
    Arthur looks back at her, a smile spreading across his face as he watches her dancing eyes.
    “Aldwin?” Bartley asks.
    “She’s never seen the sea,” he says quietly, smiling.
    “Yes, ’tis a lovely sight indeed,” Bartley agrees. “Both the sea and your missus, if I may say.”
    “Indeed,” Arthur agrees, dropping back to شامل میں Gwen for a moment.
    “You like it,” he says, smiling indulgently at her. If I were still a prince, I would hand this to آپ on a silver platter.
    “Yes,” she whispers. “I want to go to the edge of those cliffs and look out over the sea.”
    “Later, I promise,” he says, lifting her chin to kiss her sweetly. He turns back to their hosts, looking at Sherman now. “Somehow I think we’ll be buying this farm from آپ regardless of how it looks,” he declares, and the men, both happily married, laugh knowingly. They start walking again.
    “Smart man,” Sherman chuckles. “Keep the wife happy. Most important thing in a marriage.”
    “How long have آپ been married?” Bartley asks. “Not long, from the looks of you.”
    “Just under one day,” Arthur says, peering up at the position of the sun momentarily.
    “Indeed,” Bartley echoes now.
    “There,” Sherman points to a cozy cottage, in need of a little care, but otherwise tidy. There is a modest-sized field and a small barn.
    Arthur looks at Gwen, who is smiling. He can see the happy tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.
    “There are three rooms inside, too,” Sherman says, selling it now, knowing that the extra room is just what they need دیا their living situation.
    “Three?” Gwen gasps, blinking.
    Merlin watches this all with interest. His only thought is I won’t have to sleep in the barn!
    “How much?” Arthur asks, reaching for just one of the many purses of money he’d absconded with when they left.

xXx

    “You’ve searched everywhere?” Uther snaps at Sir Leon, now the commander of the Knights of Camelot in Arthur’s absence.
    “The entire kingdom, Sire. It’s like they just… disappeared,” Leon says cautiously. I don’t think I like having to answer directly to him all the time.
    “What of the night guards? They had no explanation?”
    “No, Sire,” he sighs. We’ve been over this already. Twice. “No one has any recollection of seeing them. Any of them. Guinevere’s cell was opened using the key. She was in the cell, then she wasn’t. Arthur and Merlin were in the castle, then they weren’t.”
    “Magic. She is a witch, I am certain.”
    “My lord,” Leon says carefully. “Guinevere and I grew up together. Her mother was my family’s maid. I’m certain that Gwen is no witch; I have known her my whole life. No one is kinder یا مزید true of heart.”
    “You defy me?” Uther thunders.
    “Simply stating my opinion, Sire.”
    “Perhaps she has enchanted آپ as well,” he says suspiciously.
    “I hardly think so, considering she’s gone,” Leon says. I shouldn’t have کہا that.
    “Get out,” Uther orders sharply. “Send patrols to the neighboring kingdoms. Ask all that آپ encounter. Inquire at inns. Find them.”
    “Yes, Sire,” Leon nods, clenching his jaw. “Sire?” he asks.
    “What?”
    “If they are found and returned, what do آپ intend to do with them?”
    “Arthur will be severely disciplined, and the servants will be executed.”
    Leon blanches. “What would the charge be, Sire?”
    “Kidnapping the prince,” he snaps. “And I told آپ to get out.”
    “Sire,” Leon bows and turns, striding quickly from the تخت room.
    I wish they’d taken me with them. Arthur can be bossy and kind of a prat sometimes, but he at least has a heart. Gwen isn’t a witch. There’s no way. And Merlin? He’s a nice enough lad, but fairly talentless. I wonder why Arthur let him tag along if he was planning on eloping with Gwen.
    As Leon heads for the knights’ quarters, he realizes that he’s actually happy for Arthur and Gwen.
    She will be good for him. He needs someone like her to keep his less appealing qualities at bay. He remembers accidentally witnessing a couple conversations between them, thinking it odd that the prince would talk to a humble serving girl, much less seek her counsel. But he did, and she proved herself to be thoughtful and wise. Not that I’m terribly surprised. She has always been smart.
    He rounds the corner and, as he enters the large room, he makes a decision.

xXx

    “Eldon, there are knights outside,” the innkeeper’s wife calls to her husband. He comes lumbering out to the main room of the inn, smoothing his stained apron.
    “Did آپ say knights, Hollis?”
    “Looks like knights from Camelot,” she says, peering out the window.
    Two enter the inn, a tall, slender knight with longish brown curls and a short beard and another, shorter knight, stocky with black hair.
    “Pardon the intrusion, my good man,” the tall knight addresses the innkeeper, nodding at his wife.
    “Not at all. Knights of Camelot are always welcome in my inn,” the innkeeper says, bowing slightly.
    “Thank you. I am Sir Leon, and this is Sir Bors. We are looking for some travelers that may have passed through here a few days ago.”
    “We get lots of travelers passing through here, my lord,” the innkeeper says, though not disrespectfully.
    “I understand. This would have been three people together, two men and a woman.” Leon presses a few coins into the man’s hand.
    Eldon and Hollis look at each other a moment. Hollis speaks first. “There were two men and a woman here just last week, my lord. Didn’t say where they were from; didn’t say where they were headed.”
    “Do آپ remember their names?”
    “I don’t believe they gave any names, my lord.”
    “When did they arrive? What time of day?”
    “It was midday, wasn’t it Eldon?” she looks at her husband, her mind suddenly going cloudy on her.
    “Nah, ’twas nearly dusk,” he says, furrowing his brow as well, scraping to remember.
    “Yes, of course…” Hollis agrees, blinking in confusion.
    “Hmm,” Sir Leon says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, looking at his companion.
    “Doesn’t time out right,” Sir Bors says, frowning.
    “What did they look like? Do آپ recall?”
    “Yes!” Hollis exclaims, her face brightening. “She was a lovely sweet thing, slender…” she pauses, her cheerful expression falling again.
    “Was she petite, with tan skin and dark curly hair?” Leon prods.
    She thinks. “No. She was tall. Long blonde hair, wavy but not curly. Fair skin. One of her companions was darker, though. I think he was a relative somehow, they were close. Acted like family. He had dark hair, and he was taller than her, but not very. Built ’bout like you, there, Sir,” she says, nodding at Sir Bors. She looks to her husband, who is nodding his agreement.
    “Yes, that’s right. She was all golden and her friend was dark. Her other companion, which I figured to be her lover, was very fair, tall but powerfully built, with black hair and dark eyes.”
    “Oh yes, handsome devil, he was. Quite charming as well; sweet as pie, him,” Hollis agrees.
    “Not them,” Leon frowns, turning to Bors, motioning towards the door. “Thank آپ for your time all the same,” he says back to them.
    “May I ask who it is آپ are looking for, my lord?” Hollis asks.
    “Hollis!” Eldon chastises her boldness.
    “It’s quite all right. We’re looking for Prince Arthur. He’s gone missing. We have reason to believe that he is traveling with his manservant and the Lady Morgana’s maid.”
    “Oh, my!” she exclaims. “That is serious business. I will keep my eyes and ears open, my lord, and if we see یا hear anything of their whereabouts, we will send word.”
    “Thank you. We do hope they are well,” Leon adds, and the innkeeper and his wife can see the concern on the knight’s face. “Thank you, again, and good day,” he says and exits.
    Outside, Leon looks at Bors. “This is a waste of time,” he says. “If Arthur doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be. I know him better than any of the knights, and if I can’t even track him down…”
    “Can’t master the Master,” Bors agrees, sighing heavily, mounting his horse. “Can’t use the tricks of the trade to track the man who taught us those tricks.”
    “Bors,” Leon says, looking to his companion, “you’re still with me, right?”
    “Of course,” he nods, almost offended that Leon has asked again. “If we find him, we stay with him. I’ve had it with Uther.”
    “And if we don’t find him?” Bors adds, looking to Leon.
    “I’m still not sure I want to go back even then. Come on. Let’s head west. If nothing else, we can appeal to King Marke and see if he needs a couple capable knights.”

Part 3: link