Castle of Cards

Chapter 4

Cador's breath caught in his throat when the towers came into view, the flags bearing the Pendragon crest waving in the breeze atop each of them were a majestic sight. The enormous castle had been described to him so many times he had figured it wouldn't affect him, but the description did not do justice to what his eyes currently beheld. The villagers stopped tending the field, the women and children began coming out of their homes to watch their procession. He watched them curiously, intrigued by the reactions that ranged from awe and excitement to fear and in many cases for the younger generations, confusion. He supposed that should be expected, given the circumstances. He didn't envy the young king the position he was currently in, particularly if Ector had been correct in his assertion Arthur was oblivious to these matters, despite Uther's claim otherwise.

Glancing to his left, Cador noted Galahad's expression change from curiosity to controlled as a group of knights, led by King Arthur, exited the gates and made their approach. Cador had to admit he was surprised to see the young monarch leading the procession, and the expression on his lieutenant's face was quickly mirrored on his own.

"You want me to do the talking?" Galahad called to him quietly, his eyes never leaving the approaching men adorned in crimson.

"For now," Cador responded, "until we see how this plays out, anyhow."

The young commander turned his attention back to the approaching men, the pristine towers of his father's birthplace standing tall behind them.

"Can't say that I see the family resemblance," Galahad replied with sardonic amusement.

Cador snorted in response, squaring his shoulders, and trained his eyes on his cousin.

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Arthur was not having a good day, in fact in comparison to all the bad days he had experienced; this one ranked up there with finding out Morgana was his sister. Worse, actually. That had pulled the rug out from under him, this, however, threatened to pull the floor from beneath his feet. He knew his father had his secrets and was capable of keeping important things from him, but this went beyond hiding an illegitimate sibling.

Guinevere had been surprised, and rightfully upset that Merlin was not aware of any of this, but also pleased to learn of his change in status. She had quickly begun to busy herself with his wardrobe and making sure his chambers were stocked and fit for royalty. He hated it, and he suspected Merlin wouldn't be nearly as thrilled about the prospect as she was either.

That thought was the one thing that had anchored him in this whole mess. The rest, he could deal with later, right now Merlin was being made a pawn in a political situation, and he was clueless about the details. The only thing he understood at this point was that Merlin had been born in exile, raised a peasant and had no idea he was the rightful heir to the kingdom his father had grown up. In Merlin's grandfather's household, no less. Apparently, the kingdom was behind some enchantment, which Arthur was alarmed by, but he would deal with that later when he could get more information. For now, he focused on getting through this meeting. He knew damn well this could potentially go very badly if not handled carefully, and for Merlin's sake Arthur would not allow that.

Geoffrey had arrived at his chambers within minutes of leaving the physicians, confirming his Great Uncle had a son named Balinor, and Merlin identity was not disputed. He was Balinor's son and heir. The name Balinor Ambrosius seemed familiar to him, but he couldn't immediately place it, so he filed it away for later. Geoffrey also confirmed Cerniw and Benoic's continued existence, and the correct boundaries of Camelot, offering little explanation, only conceding he didn't know what had caused the rift between the kingdoms, or why his father had changed the records. According to the historian, the spat between Uther and Balinor was believed by most to be personal and was still the subject of much speculation within the court, even nearly twenty-five years later. Though the chatter had never occurred within earshot of his father, or himself.