His Mage

Twelve

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The plan had been a good one. The plan had been a good one that is, until they realized it was a trap.

Arthur was the first to begin to suspect something was wrong. It felt too easy, things were going too smoothly. It had taken them the full three days to plan this and now things were falling into place exactly as they should. That just didn't happen. Things always went wrong.

Arthur, Goosefat Bill, and Bedivere were in the abandoned house that had been chosen. Goosefat stood by the window and had the perfect line of sight for taking his long distance shot on the king. He had an arrow knocked and they were just waiting for Vortigern to step into place.  Trumpets sounded to announce the arrival of the king. Like he was being delivered to them in a silver platter.

"This is too easy," Arthur muttered as the subjects all fell on their knees and the King stepped off his barge, giving them a perfectly clear line of sight. The subjects knelt, but the captain of the guard stood tall and proud awaiting his king.

Goosefat drew the bow, resting his cheek and looking straight down the arrow. He started to count his breaths.

"Wait, wait don't fire," Arthur called, his voice barely above a whisper.

Goosefat flicked his eyes in Arthur's direction but he didn't relax his position. He was set up for the shot and he wouldn't throw away this one chance just because the boy-king was getting cold feet.

"Why not?" Bedivere demanded impatiently, although he too seemed unlikely to listen.

Arthur shook his head, unable to fully articulate what it was that bothered him. Something about the way the captain stood, the way he watched the man who was supposed to be the king. He wasn't respectful enough. When they had him captive every single person who addressed Vortigern did so with absolute reverence. This didn't feel like that.

"Something doesn't smell right," he finally settled on saying, knowing it wouldn't be enough to convince the other men. Bedivere might want to believe in him as King, but neither man was ready for him to actually take that first step and have to follow his orders.

Bedivere's jaw tightened in frustration. "It smells as right as it is ever going to smell," he said, the stress making his accent thicker than usual. "Bill," he implored turning to Goosefat. "Get on with it."

"It's a trap!" Arthur hissed.

"How would he know?" Bedivere demanded. They were running out of time. Vortigern would only stop for a moment before being ushered inside to face the barons.

"Don't know, Maggie, maybe," Arthur implored but he could see he was losing whatever ground he had gained with Bedivere. The old knight cared too much for Maggie, he would never even consider the fact that she had betrayed them. Even if she was the only person who could have.

Bedivere shook his head and turned to look back out the window. His eyes were locked on the king. He had waited too long to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Vortigern had spilled too much blood to be allowed to live.

"Maybe he knows she's working for us!" Arthur said suddenly, whisper yelling to be heard. "I am telling you, that is not the King."

Bedivere pulled back as though he had been struck. It had never occurred to him that Maggie could be in danger. She had been a spy in the palace since the beginning and never once been compromised. Worry creased his face as he considered the risk she had taken coming to the caves. He would never forgive himself if she had been hurt.

"You're right," Goosefat agreed, calm as could be. "It's not the king, he said with a shrug. "Oh well, at least Mercia is here," he said with a wicked gleam of determination in his eye.