11-03-2013, 09:10 PM
Aelphaba, the Dragon Queen. As difficult as all children of Oberon were Aelphaba was worse. She was vain and deliberately challenging. She often lived away from the rest of the Aelfish as she considered herself above them, some say above Oberon himself! The Aelfish in general harbored an arrogant loathing for humans. To make matters worse, Oberon himself had banished Merlin from Avalon “for all eternity” and directed all of his liege--all of his liege? to enforce his decree. Merlin had meditated through the night on that problem and thought he had a solution but, before he engaged it,--maybe condense "first" he had to make another choice - he had been asleep for a long time, meaning he had been away from Camelot for a long time. Should he first visit Camelot and attend to “court and king” or head straight for Avalon? Thinking of Camelot made him think of Arthur! A smile lit up his face unsummoned.--aren't a lot of smiles spontaneous, not all but seems a weak add. Yes, he would need to attend to his king first.
Hmm . . . transportation, Merlin thought to himself. Camelot was over forty leagues. Now, he could walk, which demonstrated a stately amount of wizardly patience and grace, he thought. He briefly relished the vision of himself stolidly marching forty straight leagues with wizardly resolve, cloak tight and face hooded, brimming with a resolute power. Through night and day, perhaps a storm would present itself . . . No! he had other matters to attend to. He had been away from Camelot too long, best to secure quicker transportation.--the musings where he compares his actions to those of the ideal wizard are very fun to read. Occasionally, it would be interesting (not here though) if he made the wrong choice for image and it bit him He could transform himself into his namesake--I hadn't known this, nice detail - briefly Merlin allowed himself to imagine bursting to--to doesn't feel like the best preposition here the skies as a hawk. Oh, how he loved to fly! That also might resolve the problem of his hunger--This has implications you could play off of more snagging a squirrel on the trip and filling his now smaller belly. A sentence here might help cement the idea, he allowed his thoughts to drift through the majesty of his favorite transformation but he--don't need "he" knew that was not an acceptable option either. He he--typo duplicate would need all the power he could summon for his face off with Aelphaba and he couldn't afford another month long nap.
Merlin rapidly sucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and within a couple moments, several field mice broke through the meadow and scurried up to his foot. Merlin pinched one at the neck and lifted it to his lips, then whispered into its ear. He set the mouse down and it began to grow, transforming as it did into a powerful white stallion.--first use of practical magic we've seen beyond the sparks. Fitting transportation for a wizard,--nice Merlin thought. He put his arm around its head but instead of mounting he just walked alongside it for a bit. It would be nice to walk, thought Merlin, to stretch his legs after his long sleep and enjoy the exercise of his long legs. He could always ride after breakfast and impatience wouldn't suit a wizard!
As Merlin approached Camelot from the East, the sun was just dipping below the plateau that acted as a platform for the main keep, he slowed his mount to a brisk walk. A wizard shouldn't be seen rushing, he thought. The road leading up to the keep was an old Roman highway - hundreds of years old but still solid, flat and wide. It was a tribute to Roman engineering. Merlin was passing through the outlying villages now. Several dozen skirted Camelot and fed the engine of growth and optimism that Camelot stood for. Within a league of the keep, everything looked new and clean, bustling with activity even close to sunset. This was a welcome contrast to most villages of the day. Merlin had traveled much of the Norman Empire and found nothing but dirt and poverty. He glowed with pride as he thought of Camelot. He started to hum a tune along with the clipping and clopping of his horse’s hooves on the pavement. He thought of a bawdy ditty that matched the beat in his head. Just as he was about to open his mouth to belt it out, he arrived at the gate that protected the fortified section of the city.--All good detail mixed in the action
A foot soldier stood at each side of the passageway, glaring at everyone that entered. Even with the sun almost set their burnished armor gleamed. Merlin felt pride bubbling up again when a spear was thrust in front of him, blocking his way and making his horse stop abruptly. “No weapons in the city.” Merlin pulled the hood of his cloak back slightly and allowed the power to rise up and glow orange in his eyes. The soldier stepped back abruptly, tripping over his own greaves before catching his balance. “Oh, my god, Merlin. Sorry,” he stammered.--You may not even need the sorry here Merlin passed through the checkpoint. He noticed the soldier crossing himself out of the corner of his eye and smiled slightly.--nice. This sign of the cross thing you could include more to show a general piety in village life. I think this was a warding off of merlin's blasphemy. I checked the origins to remind myself and this should have been going for at least three centuries. Once inside the settlement, he rode straight to the keep, circling around the royal quarters to the west wing--sort of reminds me of the white house in the tv show and riding his horse into the stables. A stable boy grabbed for the reins as he dismounted but Merlin signaled him back with a gesture.
“What to do with you, sir mouse,” he whispered into the horse’s ear. “If I return your form, you will never make it home, but if I release you as a horse, you will return to your family only to stand alone. What would you prefer?” He pressed his ear close to the horse’s mouth. “Well, perhaps you would like to stay the night, have a supper of oats and a good brush down and I can pass that way tomorrow?” He paused once again with his ear to the horse. “It’s decided then. Boy! take my horse and treat him well. Be sure to brush him well or you’ll take his place. “ Merlin glowered at the stable boy for a second and then winked at him.--all good character detail.
The straw dust of the stables made Merlin itch.--good sensory choice Even having bathed just last night, the dirt and grime of travelling forty leagues felt rough on his skin, tempting him to head to his own quarters but the thought of Arthur set him off with a jaunt to the royal quarters instead. As he was marching along one of the many corridors he came upon Gawain. Gawain reached up to him and boisterously clapped him on the back. “Merlin you old warlock! Where have you been? Out sacrificing virgins I would warrant!” Then Gawain winked and burst into raucous laughter, gripping Merlin’s arm in both of his meaty hands. Gawain’s enthusiasm was contagious. “I didn't find a maid you’d left a virgin you old horse or I would have!” he answered. Gawain guffawed cheerfully as he returned to walking, shouting back, “I have to eat, I’m a growing boy! Come to the dining hall later and regale us with a tale.” Merlin noted that Gawain’s tabard, while still featuring the lion of Pendragon prominently also now displayed the cross of Christ.--again a change in piety subtly brought into the kingdom. Fun interaction between the two of them
“Try to save me a pint of ale,” Merlin shouted after him and then continued along the passageway to Arthur’s chambers. Outside the door to the royal outer chambers were another two guards. Merlin sized them up - both were well armed and looked stout enough, but young and unseasoned. Anybody that these two could stop wouldn't be a real threat to Arthur anyway. Merlin snorted and lifted his hands as if to brush them back. He didn't recognize either of them but they had clearly heard of him as they created a wide berth for him to pass. He tapped his staff on the sturdy oak door firmly three times and then waited, arms folded across his chest and looking down. He heard a voice shout from inside, “oh, either kill him or allow him to enter already. What is the sense of having guards if I have to open the door like a footman every time someone calls?”
Merlin pressed on the heavy iron lever and pushed the door inward. Arthur was behind his massive desk but he wasn't sitting, he was pacing back and forth (quite regally, Merlin thought) in front of a roaring blaze set in the stone fire pit. Merlin looked around the room to read any changes: There were several rich tapestries along the walls (gifts, no doubt) but they didn't look new. There was a very richly crafted weapons stand that Merlin didn't recognize displayed prominently in the left side of the room, decked out neatly with a mace, a battle axe that looked too shiny to ever be used as a weapon and a set of “dress leather” armor. Merlin pulled the cloak hood completely off his head, letting his long hair flow down over his shoulders. As Arthur looked up and saw him, he burst into a boyish grin and rushed across the room to greet him. Arthur was a bear of a man - currently at his physical peak. It was only recently that he had traded professions from warlord to king and his body was still battle hardened and strong. At just over six feet he was still half a foot shorter than Merlin but he gripped him around his chest, lifted him off his feet and spun him around in a bear hug, shaking him with his laughter until Merlin's ribs felt like they were cracking.--all of this was great. You get a real sense of relationship in Arthur's response, and history in the details. I especially liked the Warlord line, and that the gifts don't appear new showing a bit more of the passage of time. You sprinkle in exposition well in that it doesn't bog down the scene
“Merlin!” Arthur set him back on his feet, “it is so good to see you old friend! Where have you been off to, it’s been over four months since you’ve been to Camelot? And what is going on with that beard, you look like a crazed merchant peddler that hasn't seen a proper bed in years?”
Merlin tugged indignantly at his tangled beard, looking down at it, “well, I have been travelling hard, you know when it is cleaned and combed it really looks quite wizardly.” He continued tugging at it self-consciously in disappointment.--love that Just wait until he saw that thrush again, he would roast him on a spit for dinner!--hilarious, to think that the two thrushes were having a joke at his expense.
Merlin walked over to a well-appointed couch set in front of the fire, continuing to inspect the room for changes as he went. He noticed the door to the bed chamber. Nothing would be apparent to the casual observer but Merlin knew immediately that Arthur had not found a queen while he had been away.--set's the chronology well. Oh, he had his dalliances with passing wenches, he had a warlord’s hunger after all, but Arthur would never bring anything but his queen to the royal chambers and Arthur had no need for soft mattresses or silk coverlets himself, preferring a soldier’s bedroll in front of the fire for his four hours--all great detail. Four hours and naps--tough life or refreshing himself with naps at his desk. Merlin settled down into--into or onto the couch trying to downplay his road soreness but allowing a sigh to escape. He pulled a long pipe from within his robe and handed it to Arthur who filled it from a stash at his desk, lit it with an ember from the fire and returned it to him--like the ember lighting the pipe. “I have been off in the woods, conversing with spirits and performing great magic,” Merlin announced. “You know a wizard like myself has grave responsibilities.”--image is important Merlin settled deeper into--maybe that is the right preposition the couch and pulled some from the pipe.
Arthur looked younger than his years as he sat at Merlin’s feet and looked up at him, “I miss your wisdom.”--this is nice because it establishes their initial relationship when they fall back into familiar patterns when alone
“You are a king, you have a king’s wisdom now,” Merlin declared, “your subjects look up to you and depend on your strength. Look at how Camelot flourishes under you!” Merlin spread his arms out wildly as if all of Camelot lay before him instead of a beautiful crimson hearth rug, knocking one of the embers from his pipe onto the rug.
Arthur hastily brushed the coal with his bare hand but not before it burnt a hole in the rug,”If I am king, then what are you?”
“Why I am your humble servant. And your wizard.” Merlin winked and took another pull at the pipe.
“But you are much wiser and more powerful than I,” Arthur looked sheepish, “why are you not king?”
“Because a king is not decided by wisdom and power,” Merlin answered offhandedly.--This feels like a familiar conversation, and I enjoy their interplay He had got his hand stuck in his beard while trying to unravel it, so he turned his body slightly away from Arthur as if examining a tapestry along the wall while he attempted to wiggle it free.--This is fantastic. Roast thrush indeed
“Then what determines a king?” Arthur asked.
“Arthur, we have been through this before. A king is made by love and loyalty, by courage and humility and by kingliness. Arthur, you are a great king and that is why you have my fealty. Now tell me, what really troubles you.”--The last phrase definitely marks this as a reoccurring conversation. Arthur feels insecure about something
Arthur stood up and walked over toward the wall with his back turned to Merlin, “you know that all of Britannia is part of the Holy Roman Empire?” Merlin nodded but Arthur didn’t turn to look. “and since the rise of Camelot, Britannia has been united under us, for protection. We protect them from the Gauls and the Normans, from the Saxons, we protect the shores from the Celts but Merlin, it is understood that we do so with the blessing of Rome and Rome is a Christian empire!” Arthur turned to look at Merlin, imploring him to understand.--This makes the earlier crossing of the soldier, and Gawain's tabard a bit ominous--nice
Merlin nodded in agreement, tapping at the glowing coals of his pipe with his finger and then pulling it back abruptly as it burned--gives a sense of Merlin's thoughts on this change and placing it in his mouth, “yes, Holy Roman Empire, very good with roads they are.--excellent, looking for something good” Merlin was nodding in agreement and eyeing his pipe suspiciously.--the suspiciously is more about recognizing the change that will be coming
“But Merlin, the Romans are complaining that it’s not fit for a Christian King to be conspiring with a pagan. And the people of Camelot, many of them are murmuring as well. Some say that the King is in legion with a pagan demon!”
“Ah, but surely Arthur, you’re not one to be conspiring with demons, just reassure them, you are their king, they will listen to you,” Merlin returned to puffing away at his pipe, producing great plumes of smoke now.
“Merlin, they are saying that YOU’RE a pagan demon,” Arthur was growing exasperated now.
Merlin cocked one eyebrow up quizzically and then let out a short burst of laughter, “Well, surely my king, you know that can’t be true.”
“Merlin, are you a Christian?” Arthur asked.
“Well you are my king, yes?” Merlin looked him in the eye.
“I would never disown you, Merlin,” Arthur looked stung.
“and are you a Christian?” Merlin continued.
“But Merlin, what are you asking?! Of course I am a Christian!” Arthur was turning a little red now.
“well then, I am a Christian,” Merlin finished, he tapped out his pipe on the edge of the couch and returned it to his robe.
“But Merlin, it’s not that easy. Do you believe in Christ?” Arthur asked.--I wonder though I'm really not sure. The modern believe in your heart, confess with your mouth Christianity may not have been as much in practice as Merlin have you been baptized. I'm not sure there was no mass produced scriptures, there was sola scriptura so I'm trying to guess where Arthur's mind would be (Nothing wrong with his question as it stands--just speculating)
“Hmm . . Christ, yes . . . fine chap, breads and fishes, seems like a good enough belief for me,” Merlin nodded reassuringly. Arthur shook his head looking unconvinced as Merlin rose from the couch and gripped him around the shoulders. “Anyway, Merlin continued, I already foresaw this and developed a plan to deal with it.”
Arthur immediately looked reassured and the broad easy smile returned to his face, “I knew you had a plan. As long as it doesn't have anything to do with dragons or anything,” Arthur laughed.--all good. Love the ending of this
“Ahh . . . my boy, when are you going to feed me anyway? What kind of hospitality is this you show to a weary traveler? Come, let’s go to the feast-hall, Gawain is there and I have a tale of a scullery maid that will make even that pirate blush!”--fun
Arthur quickened his step to keep up with Merlin’s long strides, “Gawain! just wait until you see me beat that little girl at arm wrestling,” Arthur raced ahead, his kingly buoyancy returned.
[/quote]
I like the way you're developing the story. It seems we have two threats (subplots): the threat from faerie, and the threat from the encroaching church. I look forward to more chapters.
Best,
Todd
Hmm . . . transportation, Merlin thought to himself. Camelot was over forty leagues. Now, he could walk, which demonstrated a stately amount of wizardly patience and grace, he thought. He briefly relished the vision of himself stolidly marching forty straight leagues with wizardly resolve, cloak tight and face hooded, brimming with a resolute power. Through night and day, perhaps a storm would present itself . . . No! he had other matters to attend to. He had been away from Camelot too long, best to secure quicker transportation.--the musings where he compares his actions to those of the ideal wizard are very fun to read. Occasionally, it would be interesting (not here though) if he made the wrong choice for image and it bit him He could transform himself into his namesake--I hadn't known this, nice detail - briefly Merlin allowed himself to imagine bursting to--to doesn't feel like the best preposition here the skies as a hawk. Oh, how he loved to fly! That also might resolve the problem of his hunger--This has implications you could play off of more snagging a squirrel on the trip and filling his now smaller belly. A sentence here might help cement the idea, he allowed his thoughts to drift through the majesty of his favorite transformation but he--don't need "he" knew that was not an acceptable option either. He he--typo duplicate would need all the power he could summon for his face off with Aelphaba and he couldn't afford another month long nap.
Merlin rapidly sucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and within a couple moments, several field mice broke through the meadow and scurried up to his foot. Merlin pinched one at the neck and lifted it to his lips, then whispered into its ear. He set the mouse down and it began to grow, transforming as it did into a powerful white stallion.--first use of practical magic we've seen beyond the sparks. Fitting transportation for a wizard,--nice Merlin thought. He put his arm around its head but instead of mounting he just walked alongside it for a bit. It would be nice to walk, thought Merlin, to stretch his legs after his long sleep and enjoy the exercise of his long legs. He could always ride after breakfast and impatience wouldn't suit a wizard!
As Merlin approached Camelot from the East, the sun was just dipping below the plateau that acted as a platform for the main keep, he slowed his mount to a brisk walk. A wizard shouldn't be seen rushing, he thought. The road leading up to the keep was an old Roman highway - hundreds of years old but still solid, flat and wide. It was a tribute to Roman engineering. Merlin was passing through the outlying villages now. Several dozen skirted Camelot and fed the engine of growth and optimism that Camelot stood for. Within a league of the keep, everything looked new and clean, bustling with activity even close to sunset. This was a welcome contrast to most villages of the day. Merlin had traveled much of the Norman Empire and found nothing but dirt and poverty. He glowed with pride as he thought of Camelot. He started to hum a tune along with the clipping and clopping of his horse’s hooves on the pavement. He thought of a bawdy ditty that matched the beat in his head. Just as he was about to open his mouth to belt it out, he arrived at the gate that protected the fortified section of the city.--All good detail mixed in the action
A foot soldier stood at each side of the passageway, glaring at everyone that entered. Even with the sun almost set their burnished armor gleamed. Merlin felt pride bubbling up again when a spear was thrust in front of him, blocking his way and making his horse stop abruptly. “No weapons in the city.” Merlin pulled the hood of his cloak back slightly and allowed the power to rise up and glow orange in his eyes. The soldier stepped back abruptly, tripping over his own greaves before catching his balance. “Oh, my god, Merlin. Sorry,” he stammered.--You may not even need the sorry here Merlin passed through the checkpoint. He noticed the soldier crossing himself out of the corner of his eye and smiled slightly.--nice. This sign of the cross thing you could include more to show a general piety in village life. I think this was a warding off of merlin's blasphemy. I checked the origins to remind myself and this should have been going for at least three centuries. Once inside the settlement, he rode straight to the keep, circling around the royal quarters to the west wing--sort of reminds me of the white house in the tv show and riding his horse into the stables. A stable boy grabbed for the reins as he dismounted but Merlin signaled him back with a gesture.
“What to do with you, sir mouse,” he whispered into the horse’s ear. “If I return your form, you will never make it home, but if I release you as a horse, you will return to your family only to stand alone. What would you prefer?” He pressed his ear close to the horse’s mouth. “Well, perhaps you would like to stay the night, have a supper of oats and a good brush down and I can pass that way tomorrow?” He paused once again with his ear to the horse. “It’s decided then. Boy! take my horse and treat him well. Be sure to brush him well or you’ll take his place. “ Merlin glowered at the stable boy for a second and then winked at him.--all good character detail.
The straw dust of the stables made Merlin itch.--good sensory choice Even having bathed just last night, the dirt and grime of travelling forty leagues felt rough on his skin, tempting him to head to his own quarters but the thought of Arthur set him off with a jaunt to the royal quarters instead. As he was marching along one of the many corridors he came upon Gawain. Gawain reached up to him and boisterously clapped him on the back. “Merlin you old warlock! Where have you been? Out sacrificing virgins I would warrant!” Then Gawain winked and burst into raucous laughter, gripping Merlin’s arm in both of his meaty hands. Gawain’s enthusiasm was contagious. “I didn't find a maid you’d left a virgin you old horse or I would have!” he answered. Gawain guffawed cheerfully as he returned to walking, shouting back, “I have to eat, I’m a growing boy! Come to the dining hall later and regale us with a tale.” Merlin noted that Gawain’s tabard, while still featuring the lion of Pendragon prominently also now displayed the cross of Christ.--again a change in piety subtly brought into the kingdom. Fun interaction between the two of them
“Try to save me a pint of ale,” Merlin shouted after him and then continued along the passageway to Arthur’s chambers. Outside the door to the royal outer chambers were another two guards. Merlin sized them up - both were well armed and looked stout enough, but young and unseasoned. Anybody that these two could stop wouldn't be a real threat to Arthur anyway. Merlin snorted and lifted his hands as if to brush them back. He didn't recognize either of them but they had clearly heard of him as they created a wide berth for him to pass. He tapped his staff on the sturdy oak door firmly three times and then waited, arms folded across his chest and looking down. He heard a voice shout from inside, “oh, either kill him or allow him to enter already. What is the sense of having guards if I have to open the door like a footman every time someone calls?”
Merlin pressed on the heavy iron lever and pushed the door inward. Arthur was behind his massive desk but he wasn't sitting, he was pacing back and forth (quite regally, Merlin thought) in front of a roaring blaze set in the stone fire pit. Merlin looked around the room to read any changes: There were several rich tapestries along the walls (gifts, no doubt) but they didn't look new. There was a very richly crafted weapons stand that Merlin didn't recognize displayed prominently in the left side of the room, decked out neatly with a mace, a battle axe that looked too shiny to ever be used as a weapon and a set of “dress leather” armor. Merlin pulled the cloak hood completely off his head, letting his long hair flow down over his shoulders. As Arthur looked up and saw him, he burst into a boyish grin and rushed across the room to greet him. Arthur was a bear of a man - currently at his physical peak. It was only recently that he had traded professions from warlord to king and his body was still battle hardened and strong. At just over six feet he was still half a foot shorter than Merlin but he gripped him around his chest, lifted him off his feet and spun him around in a bear hug, shaking him with his laughter until Merlin's ribs felt like they were cracking.--all of this was great. You get a real sense of relationship in Arthur's response, and history in the details. I especially liked the Warlord line, and that the gifts don't appear new showing a bit more of the passage of time. You sprinkle in exposition well in that it doesn't bog down the scene
“Merlin!” Arthur set him back on his feet, “it is so good to see you old friend! Where have you been off to, it’s been over four months since you’ve been to Camelot? And what is going on with that beard, you look like a crazed merchant peddler that hasn't seen a proper bed in years?”
Merlin tugged indignantly at his tangled beard, looking down at it, “well, I have been travelling hard, you know when it is cleaned and combed it really looks quite wizardly.” He continued tugging at it self-consciously in disappointment.--love that Just wait until he saw that thrush again, he would roast him on a spit for dinner!--hilarious, to think that the two thrushes were having a joke at his expense.
Merlin walked over to a well-appointed couch set in front of the fire, continuing to inspect the room for changes as he went. He noticed the door to the bed chamber. Nothing would be apparent to the casual observer but Merlin knew immediately that Arthur had not found a queen while he had been away.--set's the chronology well. Oh, he had his dalliances with passing wenches, he had a warlord’s hunger after all, but Arthur would never bring anything but his queen to the royal chambers and Arthur had no need for soft mattresses or silk coverlets himself, preferring a soldier’s bedroll in front of the fire for his four hours--all great detail. Four hours and naps--tough life or refreshing himself with naps at his desk. Merlin settled down into--into or onto the couch trying to downplay his road soreness but allowing a sigh to escape. He pulled a long pipe from within his robe and handed it to Arthur who filled it from a stash at his desk, lit it with an ember from the fire and returned it to him--like the ember lighting the pipe. “I have been off in the woods, conversing with spirits and performing great magic,” Merlin announced. “You know a wizard like myself has grave responsibilities.”--image is important Merlin settled deeper into--maybe that is the right preposition the couch and pulled some from the pipe.
Arthur looked younger than his years as he sat at Merlin’s feet and looked up at him, “I miss your wisdom.”--this is nice because it establishes their initial relationship when they fall back into familiar patterns when alone
“You are a king, you have a king’s wisdom now,” Merlin declared, “your subjects look up to you and depend on your strength. Look at how Camelot flourishes under you!” Merlin spread his arms out wildly as if all of Camelot lay before him instead of a beautiful crimson hearth rug, knocking one of the embers from his pipe onto the rug.
Arthur hastily brushed the coal with his bare hand but not before it burnt a hole in the rug,”If I am king, then what are you?”
“Why I am your humble servant. And your wizard.” Merlin winked and took another pull at the pipe.
“But you are much wiser and more powerful than I,” Arthur looked sheepish, “why are you not king?”
“Because a king is not decided by wisdom and power,” Merlin answered offhandedly.--This feels like a familiar conversation, and I enjoy their interplay He had got his hand stuck in his beard while trying to unravel it, so he turned his body slightly away from Arthur as if examining a tapestry along the wall while he attempted to wiggle it free.--This is fantastic. Roast thrush indeed
“Then what determines a king?” Arthur asked.
“Arthur, we have been through this before. A king is made by love and loyalty, by courage and humility and by kingliness. Arthur, you are a great king and that is why you have my fealty. Now tell me, what really troubles you.”--The last phrase definitely marks this as a reoccurring conversation. Arthur feels insecure about something
Arthur stood up and walked over toward the wall with his back turned to Merlin, “you know that all of Britannia is part of the Holy Roman Empire?” Merlin nodded but Arthur didn’t turn to look. “and since the rise of Camelot, Britannia has been united under us, for protection. We protect them from the Gauls and the Normans, from the Saxons, we protect the shores from the Celts but Merlin, it is understood that we do so with the blessing of Rome and Rome is a Christian empire!” Arthur turned to look at Merlin, imploring him to understand.--This makes the earlier crossing of the soldier, and Gawain's tabard a bit ominous--nice
Merlin nodded in agreement, tapping at the glowing coals of his pipe with his finger and then pulling it back abruptly as it burned--gives a sense of Merlin's thoughts on this change and placing it in his mouth, “yes, Holy Roman Empire, very good with roads they are.--excellent, looking for something good” Merlin was nodding in agreement and eyeing his pipe suspiciously.--the suspiciously is more about recognizing the change that will be coming
“But Merlin, the Romans are complaining that it’s not fit for a Christian King to be conspiring with a pagan. And the people of Camelot, many of them are murmuring as well. Some say that the King is in legion with a pagan demon!”
“Ah, but surely Arthur, you’re not one to be conspiring with demons, just reassure them, you are their king, they will listen to you,” Merlin returned to puffing away at his pipe, producing great plumes of smoke now.
“Merlin, they are saying that YOU’RE a pagan demon,” Arthur was growing exasperated now.
Merlin cocked one eyebrow up quizzically and then let out a short burst of laughter, “Well, surely my king, you know that can’t be true.”
“Merlin, are you a Christian?” Arthur asked.
“Well you are my king, yes?” Merlin looked him in the eye.
“I would never disown you, Merlin,” Arthur looked stung.
“and are you a Christian?” Merlin continued.
“But Merlin, what are you asking?! Of course I am a Christian!” Arthur was turning a little red now.
“well then, I am a Christian,” Merlin finished, he tapped out his pipe on the edge of the couch and returned it to his robe.
“But Merlin, it’s not that easy. Do you believe in Christ?” Arthur asked.--I wonder though I'm really not sure. The modern believe in your heart, confess with your mouth Christianity may not have been as much in practice as Merlin have you been baptized. I'm not sure there was no mass produced scriptures, there was sola scriptura so I'm trying to guess where Arthur's mind would be (Nothing wrong with his question as it stands--just speculating)
“Hmm . . Christ, yes . . . fine chap, breads and fishes, seems like a good enough belief for me,” Merlin nodded reassuringly. Arthur shook his head looking unconvinced as Merlin rose from the couch and gripped him around the shoulders. “Anyway, Merlin continued, I already foresaw this and developed a plan to deal with it.”
Arthur immediately looked reassured and the broad easy smile returned to his face, “I knew you had a plan. As long as it doesn't have anything to do with dragons or anything,” Arthur laughed.--all good. Love the ending of this
“Ahh . . . my boy, when are you going to feed me anyway? What kind of hospitality is this you show to a weary traveler? Come, let’s go to the feast-hall, Gawain is there and I have a tale of a scullery maid that will make even that pirate blush!”--fun
Arthur quickened his step to keep up with Merlin’s long strides, “Gawain! just wait until you see me beat that little girl at arm wrestling,” Arthur raced ahead, his kingly buoyancy returned.
[/quote]
I like the way you're developing the story. It seems we have two threats (subplots): the threat from faerie, and the threat from the encroaching church. I look forward to more chapters.
Best,
Todd
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson