Merlyn's Only Hope

The Moment of Truth P1

Merlyn hadn't received any reward for killing the wraith, not that she'd exactly expected one, just more challenges from eager knights. Generally, she accepted, using it as a way to hone her skills when Arthur wasn't around.

The Prince had gone on patrol with his father, so, after using a little magic to do her chores, Merlyn had given herself the morning off. Naturally, that meant that Gaius, who seemed to have a sixth sense for knowing when she had any sort of free time, had given her some of his work to do. She'd promised Morgana that she'd take Galahad for a walk so, killing two birds with one stone, she took the dog on her wander around the lower town, collecting some uncommon herbs from the street vendors. Galahad skipped at her heels, knocking over a few pots and buckets as he ran, surprisingly more clumsy than the servant, not that the people minded. It wasn't exactly a rare sight and most of them thought of Merlyn as one of their own. Besides, Morgana always found a way to pay for most of the damages caused by the dog.

She had just finished her rounds and, having lifted a couple of coins from the Prince before he left, had purchased some sort of meat for Galahad to chew on, when a familiar figure broke off from the crowd of shoppers.

"Mother?" she exclaimed, delighted, but confused. Hunith turned towards her, managing a weak smile. Her eye was covered in purple splotches, the colouring prominent on her pale face.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" Merlyn asked, brushing her thumb lightly against the discolouration. Hunith sighed, her smile fading as she refused to meet Merlyn's gaze

"Kanen."

∆

Merlyn had talked Arthur into getting her mother an audience with the King, not that it took much convincing. They stood, shadowed by knights, a large court for something so small. Hunith stood in the middle of it all, her muddied skirts out of place in the grand hall. Morgana and Gwen stood with Merlyn, the former squeezing her hand lightly for support, watching the King sit regally in his throne, radiating power in purple leathers.

"The winters are harsh in Ealdor." Hunith began, her gaze flitting nervously around the room. "There are many children."

Merlyn saw Uther's eyes widen as he gripped his chair tightly, clearly alarmed. She winced, wishing that her mother had refrained from mentioning the name of their village, at least for as long as possible. Her father had been slaughtered in Ealdor only half a decade ago by Uther's knights; it was incredible that any of it was still standing; from how pale the King's face had turned, he had no intention of helping Hunith, no matter how much she begged. It was just too soon.

"Some of them just won't be strong enough to survive the winter. We barely have enough food as it is; if Kanen takes our harvest, our children won't live to see another summer. Please, we need your help." Merlyn's mother looked imploringly at the King, as if his stern expression was going to morph into some kind of tear stained fury, as if compassion was enough reason for him to risk the lives of his noble knights.

"Ealdor is in Cenred's kingdom. Your safety is his responsibility." Uther reasoned, trying to be diplomatic in his inevitable refusal.

"We've appealed to our king, but he cares little for the outlying regions. You're our only hope." Hunith's voice broke, tears glistening in her muddy brown eyes.

There was a long pause. Uther sat back in his chair wearily, pretending convincingly to contemplate.

"I have the deepest sympathy for you and would have this barbarian wiped off the face of the earth."

Hunith's eyes widened. "You'll help us?"

"I wish I could." The king sighed.

"Surely we can spare a few men?" Arthur spoke up, glancing reassuringly at Merlyn.