The Witch of Camelot

Nineteen .....lessons.....

Nineteen….

The table had been cleared entirely except for a pot of dark ink, two feather quills, two wooden wax tablets and a small stack of parchment. Arthur and I sat opposite one another, as was to become common place, and looked to Merlin who was seated at the head of the table in a high backed wooden arm chair which I had always suspected had been acquired from one of the palace chambers some years before.

                “Now your mornings lesson is done and you have eaten I shall begin.” my uncle said. Despite his formality I spotted a rare twinkle shining in the corner of his eyes, he knew something that we did not. He never departed with me information about whatever it was that had caused this but I was immediately sure that he had been sent a vision and that it had been one of good fortune. On instantly determining this and resolving to ask him at our first private moment I promptly forgot it and did never dwell on it again until I re-examined my memories in depth long after he had gone from the world. By then of course it was too late to ask him, though I had my suspicions.

                “Take you tablets,” we were instructed, before being thrown into a long period of hard study where my uncle gave us complicated mathematic problems which we were to solve. Neither of us had a great deal of success and after determining what level we were at with our numeric education he bade us to stop with small sighs and slightly disappointed shakes of his head.  However the next while we advanced at a far quicker rate, for our next subject was reading.

Merlin left Arthur and I to choose a scroll each from one of the great bookcases. He went away briefly to inquire after some event which required his attention leaving us to roll the scrolls out upon the table for examination. Mine was a tale, in the form of a poem, recounting the prowess and strength of the great kings who had ruled before Uther. Though they could not unite the land their actions seemed wondrous and brave, although intelligence in anything but war craft rarely entered into the equation of their success. This interested me a little but in no way as greatly as the scroll that Arthur had unknowingly selected.

His was embossed with gold and ruby red La Tene patterns which spread from the top to the bottom and curled around the base of the parchment. The lettering was black but the capital of each word at the beginning of each sentence was inked red as was the names of the people the writing contained. The parchment was clearly expensive, pure quality being obvious in the very the sheet itself let alone the embossing and delicate writing. It was a short piece which spoke of a matter very close to the pair of us at the table. Arthur read it through once while I did the same with mine, he let out a gasp of surprise and I jumped up and hurried to read what had shocked him so.

‘The king hereby declares that Arthur, known ward of Sir Ector, is in truth the son of Uther Pendragon, King of Camelot and therefore on his death, providing there are no other male heirs contesting the inheritance the throne shall be passed to him through right of blood and approved by the gods above. If there is to arise a circumstance in which another claims the rule of Camelot rightly belongs to him without directly being sired by King Uther the matter shall be decided by the Kings Council and adviser, the honourable Merlin Ambrosias who has been present at all of the Kings dealings with his son from birth. If the King passes before his son has come of age then the kingdom will be placed in the hands of the Council, Merlin Ambrosias and Sir Ector who must see to it, that on coming of age, Arthur Pendragon is given the living thus described in this document.

If Arthur should perish before time gives him growth into a man and there are no other male heirs looking to receive the throne then it shall be passed to Princess Morgana, daughter of Queen Igraine and King Uther, therefore the sister of Arthur Pendragon and next in turn for the throne despite her sex. However should she not be married prior to accession or within six months of her father’s death then she too shall lose the right to claim her throne and it shall be passed to a knight of good character as decided by lineage and the Council. If he, Arthur Pendragon, does become a man and his parentage is either revealed before or after King Uther’s death thus allowing him to become king then he is ordered to marry Lady Guinevere, daughter of Sir Leodegrance, long and faithful friend of King Uther.

The King hereby orders this so to be and gives his royal seal as proof that he himself dictated that this document should be written and sealed until such a time that it is once more needed to prove his words and place his son upon the throne.’

The surprising, troubling, confusing problem was that Uther had not sighed beneath the words nor sealed it with his wax. There was a space for such an approval but none existed...