The Witch of Camelot

Six....a command....

 Six….

As I turned to leave, following Sir Ector's men from the room, I tripped over my own two feet and fell sprawling onto the ground. Picking myself up, I attempted to remain dignified, only to find that the blond boy was staring at me, a mocking smirk spread over his face. His blue eyes twinkled with mischief,illuminated, and framed by his face – tanned from riding in the saddle so long.  He caught me staring and I flinched away, blushing ridiculously and suddenly rather aware of my boy’s attire. Enraged by his apparent control over me, I held my head high, displaying a look of diffidence, and tried to walk from the room without causing further entertainment for the arrogant audience.

  Just as I had passed him on my way from the hall, a command stopped me in my tracks, “Nimue - wait in the anti-camber. I wish to talk with you.”

It was the King. Speaking directly to me. I was so shocked and stunned that I followed the order and went from the room silently and without question. I did not turn back to see the dreading expression now leaching out of my uncles eyes, or the smirking mouth of the blond boy curdle, becoming sour, nor did I hear the other boy release a pent up breath. I did however, feel the eyes of the King trained on my back until I had reached the doors, gone through them and disappeared down the corridor without further incident.

As I waited in the antechamber, which was entered into by a tall but narrow door to the right of the entrance to the main hall, my mind was shouting questions. ‘What have I done? Surely he cannot be angry with me? No I brought him news – good or bad – I brought it to him. He cannot be mad, please say he is not angry! I cannot be punished for something I have nothing to do with – can I?” My thoughts formed such a tangled, repetitive web that I felt the need to scream out loud – but of course I suppressed this urge, attempting to convince myself that all would turn out well. ‘Besides’ I whispered in the gloom, ‘he did not sound angry…much. Who can know a kings mind anyway? …except Merlin of course.’ This panicked me as my uncles meaningful glare flashed in my mind…

To calm myself I began pacing the room, striding the few steps across it and then back, albeit in a frustrated and terrified manner. My heart was racing at ten times its usual speed and I felt out of breath, as if I had been running for my life and had only just escaped the beast pursuing me.

I stopped in my movement for a moment and suddenly realised that I could hear muffled voices. I stood still, observing my surrounding entirely for the first time. Noticing that the faded red and gold tapestry which covered one wall seemed to sway slighting in a breeze that appeared to have no source, I crept towards it and lifted the cloth gently. To my surprise I found myself staring through a narrow rectilinear gap in the masonry which allowed me to peer right into the great hall. It was not a large hole, just big enough to see the outlines of figures as they we silhouetted by the sun which poured in from the windows to the east. On further experiment -and exploration later on in life- I was to discover that those in the main hall would always be completely unaware of a person’s presence if they watched preceding from the said gap, due to it being so tiny and insignificant that there were very few who even knew it existed.

  At first I focused on Uther's outline, the King was slumped in his great chair looking older and more worn than ever, the rays of light reflecting off his silver streaked hair as if the sun herself was mocking the once powerful man, emphasising his loss of youth and grandeur as the years continued. Sir Ector stood in front of him, still nervous, I could tell this as his shoulder keep twitching, but he seemed less afraid than before accepting of the eventuality that was to come. The two young boys had moved closer to the dais, their questioning eyes full of wild confusion.

  My uncle, standing beside the King, spoke clearly. “My Lord, I believe it is time that you told them.” the statement was short and simple, but it was a command to Sir Ector nonetheless. One that would change the future forever.

  “Tell us what?” The elder boy demanded immediately, cementing the already formed view in my mind which showed him as arrogant, possessive, and irritating. Ector’s eyes connected with Merlin’s for a miniscule moment and then flicked to Uther for consent. The King raised his head, rested it on his hand and gave a brief nod in agreement.

  Turning to the two boys that he had nurtured and taught since infancy, Ector began by addressing the one who had spoken. “Cei”, the blond boy waited for his father’s next words intently, “Arthur is not you brother.” I watched as Cei’s eyes light up with excitement, a thrill running through his whole body in a way that I can only imagine was terribly painful for his father.

  But it was the younger brother who spoke then, Arthur, who I had barely registered until that moment. “Not brothers, father?” he sounded fearful, uncertain, almost lost as if the entire world he knew was being torn from beneath his feet. In reality it was. However much Cei dared to hope, the density to unite and rule a great kingdom had never belonged to him. It was Arthur’s and his alone.

  “Arthur” Ector sighed, his eyes brimming with feminine tears. “I am not your father.” Cei’s mouth opened and closed in utter astonishment, all the light had been extinguished from them as quickly as a harsh wind gutters any candle in its path.

  “What?” the poor boy stuttered, clearly as certain that the important revelation had belonged to his brother as Cei had been himself.

  “I am.” came the voice of the King as he rose slowly from his throne, the back carved with lions and serpents, the legs entwined with laurel leaves, resplendent in the glory of an earlier age.