The Witch of Camelot

Sixty-One...Words of Conflict...

Sixty-One…Words of Conflict...

We spent the rest of the day peacefully exploring and enjoying ourselves returning for dinner and an evening of entertainment. The following day we would hold discussions of a more serious nature but for that, our first full day in the north we were allowed to relax.

Once back within the castle walls Arthur came to my chambers where we sat besides the fire reading from some books we had found within Ector’s collection and intended to take back to Camelot with us. Thus we remained absorbed barely speaking a word, except for the odd comment on an interesting chapter until Katherine arrived to tell me it was time to prepare for dinner.

            Departed from my company Arthur went to a conference shortly with Sir Ector and Troilus until we were all reunited once more for dinner. Again the meal was a happy affair for the most part, with the discussion light and void of the wider implications. I did not however, enjoy Cei’s company for I often caught him staring at me whilst others were engrossed in conversation, a sinister look of contemplation on his face. I was not often made afraid but something in his demeanour suggested that I should be. 

            Geraint was sat beside me however, and his companionship I found most agreeable. He was excited at the prospect of traveling to Camelot and had a great many questions to ask me.

            ‘What is the castle like?’ he began, as we waited for the second course to be served. ‘And the town about it? And the people; do they adore their king or fear him or both? And what of the queen is she popular amongst the crowd?’

            I laughed and held up my hands to cease the follow of questions. ‘Dear Geraint you ask so much at once! There is such a mine of information I could give you in answer of each of these inquires, I do not feel I could do them justice in answering if I had a whole evening!’

            He smiled indulgently, ‘then tell me as much as you can, as much as you please my lady for I am sure you are well versed in the history and politics of your home city.’

            I inclined my head in thanks and started to formulate a reply. ‘To begin with Sir Geraint it was not my home when I was very young, I moved into the city at five summers old and went to live with my uncle. From there I was taught to read and write and when Arthur came to us other lessons were added to our daily routine.

            The city is based on an old Roman fortification but has been for the most part, updated and altered to fit the kings own style, which he takes from France I believe. There is an inner and outer wall within which are homes and workshops, stables and taverns, the outer wall encompasses all and in the inner wall contains only the castle itself. There is the great hall for entertaining and guest apartments above it with the royal state rooms in the west wing, the ladies have the east wing which covers two floors allowing them their own space for weaving and practicing dance and so on. One of their sitting rooms leads out into a small courtyard, my chambers with Merlin used to look over said courtyard, not directly but from a distance. We were in rooms built into the inner wall, secure and accessible to the king but not directly in the way of the main thoroughfare.

            The king is well held in public opinion as a great and noble warrior, the peasant folk would not approach him with open friendship however and he would not welcome them with open arms,’ I paused, ‘and yet he has an eye for evaluating people and deciding their worth, their usefulness to his cause and the furtherment of his kingdom. He does not come to these conclusions based on their lineage but on their own good qualities and recommendations.

            As for the queen I can say less, for I rare have had the opportunity to speak with her. From our brief exchanges I can describe her as a deeply ambitious woman, whose current status does not reflect that she was born with. I mean not that she was a peasant but that at least, her standing was not of royalty. Despite this she speaks with an air of contempt to those she considers below her disregarding their own thoughts of social mobility.’ I suddenly realised I was portraying nothing of Igraine’s general goodness and quickly sought to correct myself.

            ‘And yet she is a good and queenly woman, whose virtue and faithfulness towards the king are undoubted. She does all well that a royal woman is expected to do, she sits and sings, sews and dances with courtly grace, she mothered not only Arthur but his sister, who he has yet to meet in a truthful context.’

            There I ceased, aware that I had perhaps given away too much of my own feelings towards the royal family. But Geraint was smiling, and listening intently, apparently undeterred by my words of negativity.

            Before he could make a comment Cei interrupted, ‘Lady Nimue,’ he said, a tone of suggestion tinting his words, ‘I wonder at your dislike of the queen, for it is evident you and she have not seen eye to eye at some occasion in the past. Whatever could that be?’ he asked, a dry smile lifting the corner of his lips.

            I remained strong beneath his gaze, refusing to shuffle uncomfortably and babble an incoherent reply as he was most likely hoping for. ‘You misunderstand me Sir Cei,’ I began eloquently, ‘the queen is a good and gracious woman, but there are many types of women just as there are many types of men. We all have differing priorities, and it is in those that the queen and I have, in the past; as you say it, disagreed upon. However, her majesty and I do agree on one fact and one fact entirely.’ Cei raised an eyebrow.

‘We both agree that Arthur is the undisputed heir to the throne and will sit upon it as the most gallant and wise king that Camelot and our great kingdom has ever seen. We know that in this endeavour he shall be aided by his loyal subjects, who will gladly give their lives for their liege if he should ask. Not that Arthur ever would, for unlike his father, he values the individual worth of every man, woman and child within his bountiful lands.

Equally the king and I have spoken at length on his son’s progression towards manhood and his ultimate royal destiny that I have foreseen. Arthur shall be everything that his mother prays for and will be a king from which legends are made. His deeds shall be sung a millennia from now accompanied by the names of his prophet advisors and round tabled knights.’

            Beside me Geraint was grinning all over his face, with unrestrained glee at seeing Cei so put out. For Ector’s son did indeed look put down, I had reminded him within just a few sentences that his own brother was the chosen one and not he. That I, in terms of influence within the kingdom held more power than himself and that even the queen would be more likely to trust me that Cei, for I had so deeply proven my love and loyalty towards the future king. I had demonstrated to him connections with the royal house that he could only dream of and this caused his resentment to grow ever stronger.

I should have known then that Cei would seek his revenge at my embarrassing him in front of Geriant who was, in terms of Sir Ector's household below him. I should have tamed my annoyance at the arrogant boy if only to save my own virtue...