CHAPTER ONE #3
"Why did you choose me for this mission?" I demanded again, this time throwing my arms against my hips.
"I have answered that question."
I rolled my eyes. “Your answers are non-answers.”
“Now is not the time for long-winded explanations."
“It’s never the time for any sort of explanations,” I grumbled, shaking my head.
Merlin looked at me. "There are certain subjects, Guinevere, that I am incapable of repeating—certain truths that simply cannot come from my mouth, as doing so would go against the magic that protects them. Magic to which I am subservient."
I looked at Corvin, and he held his hands in the air. "I know nothing about anything."
I frowned at both of them.
"Focus on your mission, girl."
I didn't respond but glanced down at the maps of Camelot that were spread across the table.
This mission was not going to be an easy one.
But it was necessary because we had to know where we stood against the king and the king's army.
As far as numbers went, we were very much in the minority.
There existed roughly five thousand soldiers across Logres, the King's Guard.
Of course, they were nonmagical, but five thousand soldiers are still five thousand soldiers.
At Camelot alone, there existed three hundred or so, including wall patrols, gatekeepers, barracks guards, night watch, throne room and council chamber guards, plus Arthur’s personal household guard of palace-trained fighters, riders, runners, emergency archers—all those who would be the first to respond to an attack or infiltration, all part of Camelot’s standing army.
Central to this assignment was the hope of discovering which members within Arthur's inner circle remained faithful to the old ways—those who still honored magic—those we could rely on to stand with us when we finally struck against the monarch and his stronghold.
"I'm still not convinced that Sir Lioran should be from the North," Corvin said—it was the same argument he'd had for the last week.
"So you've said no less than five thousand times." I rolled my eyes at him. "Don't be a bore, Corvin."
He kept his gaze on Merlin. "It will raise too many suspicions."
The Northlands, the closest geographically to Annwyn, were notorious for sticking to the old ways.
It was in the North where those who refused Arthur’s oppressive edicts sought sanctuary once the Standing Stones were sealed.
The North was also the least settled area of Logres, its mountains and dense forests offering a haven to those who needed to hide.
It was a place of fierce people who clung to their freedom like starving beasts clinging to scraps.
Not only that, but there was word that a rebellion was brewing in the North, an entire movement growing right under Arthur's nose.
As far as I understood, The Rebellion, as they called themselves, was kept alive by the belief that one day magic would reclaim its past glory, untainted and uncontrolled.
It was one of the reasons the Twilight Sovereign needed me to pose as Sir Lioran within Arthur's court—to gather intelligence about the uprising and determine if they would prove to be worthy allies.
"We have been through this, Corvin," Merlin said.
"And I'm still not certain it was a wise decision."
"It's the only decision," I responded, giving him a look.
"Because I'm from the North, it's the only place I know. As far as posing as someone from the East, West, or South, that would be asking for trouble. I don’t know their customs, their beliefs, their culture.
" I took a breath. "But I know the North. I’ve lived its rugged landscape—I understand how these people think. "
Merlin, meanwhile, only nodded as if my words had settled any lingering debate. "Familiarity breeds certainty," he said at last, returning to the star chart.
"Yet the Northerners are the same who turned you over to the King's Guard in the first place," Corvin growled at me.
While he did have a point, it didn't change my argument. "I'm not saying that all of the North dislikes Arthur. And as far as that day at the marketplace goes, those people did what they felt they had to do, what the law told them to do. But my point still stands."
"We must try to attract those who share our beliefs to our side," Merlin added. "And the Northlands may give rise to a whole influx of magical soldiers—something Arthur fears and something we desperately need."
"I would like it known that I do not support any of this," Corvin said, his jaw tight. "I don't support Guin attending the Shadow Trials, and I believe this whole idea is madness."
"So you've said," Merlin replied.
"At least a hundred times," I added.
He frowned at me before returning his attention to Merlin. "These so-called Shadow Trials could be nothing more than an elaborate hoax—a means to find all the remaining magic-users and condemn them all to death."
Merlin was quiet as he considered Corvin's point before he then shook his head. "Or it could be a sign that Arthur is panicking—that he's realizing if he destroys all magic from Logres, he cannot hope to go up against us and prevail."
"He has five thousand soldiers," Corvin argued.
"Each of our mages is easily worth ten of his non-magicals."
"Taking that into account, we would then have half the forces he does."
"Until we recruit more Northerners to our cause and hopefully all of those who serve the Rebellion.
" Merlin looked back at us both as if to sink the point deeper.
"At which stage we can wage war against the crown and against Camelot.
" Then he looked at me. "And that's precisely why Guinevere is accepting this assignment—so she can assume the role of informant. "
"So that's enough of that conversation," I added as I glared at Corvin.
"When you arrive in Camelot, observe," Merlin continued. "Blend in. I shall expect your reports nightly."
"I know."
"Please do not forget to shed the disguise of Lioran each evening. The magic that camouflages you is incredibly potent—"
"—and if I don't shed the magic each night, I run the risk of becoming Sir Lioran forever," I interrupted with a sigh. "Merlin, we've been through this no less than twelve times—and that was just yesterday."
"And you have The Obscura?" Corvin asked.
The Obscura was a collection of magically enchanted items (pendants, potions, and stones) that Merlin had crafted to help protect me during Arthur's trials. The items in the Obscura would cloak my inner thoughts and intentions, wrapping them in layers of illusion.
I looked at him and nodded. "Yes, I have The Obscura! Gods, you two are like two old, fretting hens."
He frowned at me and then grumbled something unintelligible. It most likely had something to do with an ingrate.
"Arthur grows crueler and more powerful by the day," Merlin said and paused. "You must be very careful."
I started to roll my eyes, but Corvin's irritated expression stopped me. "This is no laughing matter, Guin."
"I don't remember laughing."
"You don't know the king like Merlin and I do," he continued, taking a step closer to me. "You have no idea how cruel Arthur can be."
"And yet he's not to be assassinated." And there it was—the argument we'd already had at least three times in the last two days.
Corvin sighed at me. "You are not an assassin, Guin."
I stared him down. "I could be."
Merlin turned to regard me with a frown. "That is not our way."
"Arthur deserves to be killed," I insisted, throwing my hands on my hips as I glared at both of them. "For everything he's done."
"That is not for you to decide," Corvin answered.
"It should be for us to decide. Because it's the right thing to do!" Then I looked at Merlin—well, at his back. "With Arthur gone, you could unite the realms. You could bring magic back to the people and stop all this death and destruction. You could become the king the people need!"
Merlin faced me. "I do not care to become king, Guinevere." He paused for a moment. "And I do not want Arthur dead."
That was the part I didn't understand and never had. Why didn't Merlin want the king dead? Was it just some sort of misplaced allegiance on Merlin's part? I didn't know and probably never would because Merlin was a miser with information.
"With you in Camelot, reporting on his actions, you help to protect Annwyn and Logres," he continued. "Without your eyes and ears in Arthur's court, we have no way of knowing his plans."
"Someday, it will come down to you and him," I said, my jaw tight. "And when that day comes, you will have to strike him down."
Merlin sighed, appearing even older. "If and when that time comes, I will face that decision then. Until then, you have your orders, and you understand your mission?"
“Yes.” I almost rolled my eyes.
Merlin's voice lowered, steel threading through his words. “Then you understand just who and what the king is. Arthur is no longer the man I once served. He is infinitely more paranoid, more violent, more dangerous. His court is rotted through with fear. And though he’s outlawed magic, don’t be fooled—he still wields it, in secret, in shadow. "
Corvin nodded. "And his magic is strong, Guin.”
Merlin inhaled deeply. "It is unfortunate, but… Arthur has followed in the footsteps of his father."
Uther Pendragon. The infamous king who lost his mind in his final years, consumed by paranoia and magical corruption until he became something monstrous—a tyrant who doomed his own men to horrific deaths. Corvin had told me about it more than once. Apparently, he'd witnessed the whole thing.
"All of which are reasons Arthur should be destroyed."
Merlin looked at me and shook his head. "No. Assassination is the coward's way."
I held his gaze. "It's necessary."
Was it love for the boy Arthur that kept Merlin from wanting Arthur dead? Nostalgia? Did he believe Arthur could change? Or was it fear? Weakness? Maybe Merlin didn't believe I was capable of murdering the king?
I knew I could do it. What was more, I wanted to do it.
Arthur was the reason my parents were dead. He was the reason I would have followed in their footsteps if not for the fact that my magic had helped me escape. Arthur was the reason my entire life had changed in an instant. And I would forever despise him for it.
Yes, I could absolutely smite the king. In fact, I had a feeling it would be difficult to restrain myself from doing exactly that.
“If Arthur discovers who you are, he won’t hesitate to kill you,” Corvin said, glaring at me, which only angered me further. “There will be no trial, no second chances, Guin. He will murder you where you stand. But before he does, he’ll make an example of you.”
I will kill him before he ever gets the chance to kill me, I promised myself.
“You must watch your back at all times,” Merlin added. “Never assume that you have earned his trust."
"Arthur trusts no one, not even his knights. Least of all strangers.”
I glanced between them and drew in a steadying breath, attempting to contain my rage. “I understand."
Then I started for the door, eager to leave both of them. Corvin was right behind me, as usual.
"Go with the blessings of Annwyn, Guinevere," Merlin said, halting me with my hand on the door. "May the eternal twilight guide your path."
I didn't bother turning around. “I won’t fail.”
And I meant it.
Even if I had to burn Camelot to the ground. And hopefully, I'd have the opportunity to do exactly that.