The Emerald Thief - Merlin BBC [1]

Chapter 3: My Game

I've only heard that Arthur is the most skilled fighter in the five kingdoms, and he is said to have a strong head on his shoulders. No one knows for sure. The King was only crowned a short time ago with his Father's passing.

Finally approaching the hall, two guards pull open the tall wooden doors. Their hinges let out a shrieking squeal from the heavy mass. Leon leads me in, the other Knights joining the crowd filling the room. This hall is smaller than Olaf's, suggesting this isn't the main throne room. The Pendragon crest hangs from the walls, creating vibrant colour in the dull room.

The Court stands together at the front, the rest of the hall filled with Arthur's most trusted knights and Noblemen wives. The few odd servants stand on the sidelines. Up ahead stands the King by his throne, looking no different to Leon, which confuses me. Arthur seems as though he could be a Knight of Camelot himself, far from a King's appearance. I also note that he can't be any older than myself, making him a younger King than most.

All eyes are again on me, following my movements while Leon leads me to the throne. I could only imagine how I look. A complete mess having had no time to collect myself over the past couple of days. Leon comes to an abrupt stop, forcing me onto my knees, which still hurt furiously. I hiss at the contact of the hard floor.

"There is no need for her to be on her knees. You can stand," King Arthur offers, addressing me after Leon.

For a moment, I'm confused. I may not be a part of society, but I know how this usually works. Realising I haven't reacted as soon as I should have, the room silent now, I quickly scramble up to my feet. The shackles shake, echoing off the silent walls. I blow a piece of hair out of my face, giving Leon a glare for his drastic action. And here I was thinking he was being nice.

Arthur looks down on me with stern blue eyes, a shade much like my own. "King Olaf sent word to Camelot that you would be roaming the forests. Tell me. What brings King Olaf to ask for my aid against a woman such as yourself?"

I shrug. "Who knows? Perhaps he got tired of the average male criminals," I poke, hiding behind my usual poker face. I observe the surroundings on the off chance I could find a way of escape.

There are two smaller wooden doors to the sides of the throne. They probably lead to the King's chambers and the guest rooms of Camelot, the other leading to either of them. There is little else in this room, a shame to me, its appearance very bare aside from the throne and crest. I note that most of the space is occupied with knights, not a very good outcome for me if I were to try anything. I wouldn't get far.

"Excuse me", the King's voice booms, catching my attention. I hadn't realised the King was speaking to me, or perhaps I didn't care too. I let my eyes fall onto the King, not showing emotion.

He stands tall, solid and reasonably fit. He doesn't have a stern face–far from it. He has a seemingly human look to him, in that you could almost pour your secrets out to him–an inviting spirit. My eyes fall to his hand, which is on his sword, not moving from it. Authoritative–intimidating to most. Not to me. My eyes flash back up to the King.

I stay quiet in everything I do, and if I ever do open my mouth, chances are I'll say something offensive.

Unimpressed by the disruptions I've coursed, the King glares down at me. "If you could be so kind as to give me the courtesy of your attention for a moment. We can get this over and done with."

"You have been found guilty of thievery and association with magic", Arthur announces. He peers down at the piece of paper with my picture held out by a man next to him for clarification.

The mention of magic makes a few people in the room restless. Magic is always considered a serious crime, and people treat it as something criminal–the worst of criminals.