Chapter 69
Jalen walked the length of the Hall, trailing his fingers along the table. Sunlight poured through the stained glass, painting the room in snatches of colour. ‘There is more than enough room here for feasts and meetings, Arthur,’ he said.
‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ Arthur said.
‘Sorcha suggested it before she left. Once things are settled, she thought it would be good to have gatherings here every so often with leaders from all the towns and villages. We’d meet to discuss…
whatever needs discussing, I guess.’ He smiled.
‘That might be a job for you, Jalen. What do you know about politics?’
Jalen raised his eyebrows. ‘I know about fish.’
Arthur laughed. ‘But,’ he said, indicating the table, ‘I think we need a new table. My father always sat at the head of the table – whether it was for meals or meetings – and he made it clear that the head, and the person occupying it, was in the most powerful position.’ He paused. ‘I don’t want that.’
‘I agree,’ Jalen said, watching him thoughtfully. ‘We need something different, but what?’
‘A circle,’ Arthur murmured, an image sliding into his mind. ‘A round table, where no man or woman is more than another. A place we can sit as equals. But we need a different room. You’re right – this space should be for feasts and celebrations, because I think we need that as well.’
Jalen gave him a broad smile. ‘I’ll find us a space, and I’ll see if we have a carpenter in our new world.’
It had been a month since the battle with Mordred. A month since everything changed. While Arthur wasn’t certain he was doing things right, he realised it didn’t matter – this was a new start for all of them. It would take time. He had finally accepted that.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ Arthur said. ‘I’m just a man, an ordinary man from a fishing village who found himself here.
’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t want people to bend their knees to me or pledge their loyalty.
I want them to help me build this new world.
I want them to come here and share their dreams of the future with me.
’ He stopped and gave a nervous laugh. ‘You think it’s a bad idea? ’
‘I think it’s a wonderful idea, Arthur.’
They were close enough that Arthur could see the freckles on Jalen’s nose. The corner of Jalen’s mouth lifted.
‘I was thinking when you were speaking, about how alive you were,’ he said. ‘Energised. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you like that before.’ He smiled. ‘You look happy, Arthur, is what I’m trying to say and I’m doing a terrible job of it, aren’t I?’
‘A terrible job of what?’ Arthur breathed. If he wanted, if he stretched out his hand or leant forward, he’d touch Jalen.
‘Of telling you I’m proud of you,’ Jalen said. His eyes dropped to Arthur’s mouth. Arthur shivered, and Jalen stepped away, running his hand over his face as he put some distance between them. He turned his eyes to the stained-glass version of Arthur instead.
Arthur wasn’t sure what to do. As he glanced around the room, he recalled the Hall of his dreamwalk with the feasting and music and laughter. ‘We should have a feast,’ he said.
Jalen looked at him in surprise.
‘Nothing huge – just us, Kat, Olwen, Iouen before he leaves, Calla – she deserves a night off.’
Jalen’s smile was beautiful. ‘It’s a great idea.’
Iouen raised his glass. ‘Well, if there is one thing I will miss about returning to sea, it is the food.’
Olwen rolled her eyes. Kat laughed, slinging her arm around Olwen’s shoulders as she addressed Iouen. ‘Right, Captain, don’t wreck my ship.’
‘Your ship?’ Iouen asked in mock outrage. ‘I thought you were running off to Cruithea to be Inanna’s Chosen?’
‘Speaking of running off,’ Olwen said before Kat could respond. ‘Has anyone heard anything about Isolde?’
Arthur shook his head. ‘No. Bors was here a few days ago and he doesn’t know where she is. He’s convinced she’ll show up sooner or later. He left word for her, in case she comes here first. The skinroamers are returning to the Highlands.’
Katarin’s eyebrows lifted. ‘With Agravaine?’
‘No, but they will keep an eye on him for me,’ Arthur said, reaching for his wine.
They were seated at the end of one of the great tables.
It was cosy, candlelight coating people’s faces.
Calla had run a critical eye over the meal before it was served, and she’d joined them at Arthur’s insistence.
She was quiet. No one had heard anything about Lamorna yet.
Elaine the Seer had returned to the Ossuary.
Even though Ereshki was gone, the Red Sisters would continue their other work – looking after women in need, tending to the sick and injured.
The Sacellum was something no one seemed to know what to do with.
Voss’ letter indicated that the people of Malist still looked to their Magistrar and the Red Sisters for guidance.
Arthur was no longer worried about the Sacellum itself – the men who had tried to rule it, men like Mark, were all dead.
The Witchfinders were another problem. Most had been sent to the Ossuary, where the Sisters were trying to undo the harm that had been caused to them.
If they couldn’t, the men whose minds and magic had been twisted into a tool for evil would have their magic bound, much like Jenyfer’s had been.
Arthur sat back in his seat, relaxed for the first time he could ever recall. The only dark spot on his horizon now was Ordes and Jenyfer. There had been no sign of them. Arthur only hoped that, wherever Ordes had ended up, he knew how much his sacrifice meant – to Arthur and the world.
As Jalen topped up Arthur’s wine glass, the doors to the Hall eased open. Arthur’s heart stopped, and he shot to his feet.
Confused faces glanced up at him, then slowly turned towards the door.
‘No way,’ Iouen breathed. He laughed, jumping out of his seat and hurrying across the room. ‘You did it!’ He threw his arms around the two people standing in the doorway, almost knocking them to the ground. When he stepped back, Arthur couldn’t breathe.
They were really here.
Gradually, the shock slipped from people’s faces. Katarin and Olwen got up, bolting for the door. There were tears and laughter, and then Arthur was moving. As Katarin wiped her face and stepped aside, Arthur’s steps faltered.
Ordes’ smile was broad. Without a word, he stepped forward and threw his arms around Arthur.
‘Are you real?’ Arthur breathed.
A laugh. ‘I am.’
Iouen was back in his seat, glass in hand. ‘So,’ he called. ‘How does it feel to be the saviour of the world?’
‘Honestly, a little strange,’ Ordes said.
He and Jenyfer followed Arthur to the table.
They sat, and Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off them.
By the time someone poured them both a drink, Arthur was almost crawling out of his skin.
As Ordes spoke about what happened when he let the magic of the Grail consume him, Jenyfer’s eyes remained on her glass.
‘But the realms are still closed?’ Olwen said. ‘Even without you being… wherever you were.’ She frowned. ‘Where were you?’
Ordes and Jen exchanged a glance. She nodded and Arthur listened, as stunned as everyone else, as he told them about Merlin, the space between the worlds he had created, and about Lamorna.
Calla’s eyes filled with tears. ‘She’s dead?’
‘Not dead,’ Ordes said. ‘But not coming back either.’
‘Melodias, however, is dead,’ Jenyfer said. It was the first time she’d spoken, her voice low and flat. ‘It was an accident.’
Olwen sat back, mouth dropping open. ‘You killed an Old One? How is that possible?’
‘I didn’t know it was,’ Jenyfer replied. ‘I gifted his realm to the syhrens. I didn’t want it. I don’t ever want to go back there.’
Silence slipped into the room, thick and brimming with things still to say, decisions still to make, but they could wait. As conversation gradually eased into the silence, Arthur sat back in his chair. His hands were trembling. Jalen leant over, his voice low, concerned.
‘Arthur?’
‘I’m alright,’ Arthur whispered back.
‘So,’ Katarin said. ‘What does one do with oneself when they return from the dead?’
Ordes laughed. ‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead.’
‘Well,’ Iouen drawled. ‘I could be in need of a quartermaster, if you’re interested.’
Katarin rolled her eyes. ‘He’s captain now. Don’t make too much of a fuss. His head is big enough already.’
Ordes met Arthur’s eyes. ‘I’ll think about it, Iouen.’
Arthur cleared his throat. ‘No matter where we all end up, it’s time for us to be happy.
We’ve earned it. All of us.’ He gazed up at the stained-glass window where the man with Ordes’ face held the Grail.
‘This will be a place of peace,’ he said.
‘Dinas Emrys and what it once stood for – what Mordred tried to turn it into – doesn’t exist any longer.
I’ve decided this place needs a new name. ’
‘I agree,’ Jalen said.
Katarin rolled her eyes. ‘Do you ever not agree with anything he says? You’re supposed to be advising, not kissing his arse.’
Jalen ignored her, while Olwen chuckled.
‘Do you know what you’re going to call it?’ Calla asked.
Arthur turned to his friends.
‘Camelot.’
Arthur met Eseld on Camlann Field. The Fisher Queen was barefoot, her face tilted to the sun.
‘Thank you,’ she breathed. She was young, beautiful, her hair a dark waterfall down her back. She smiled at him, then spun around, arms wide as she laughed. She was carefree and happy. ‘He told me to make it difficult for you – that you needed to know yourself.’ She paused, studying him. ‘Do you?’
‘I do,’ Arthur said, smiling back at her.
He was barefoot also and curled his toes into the soft, sun-warmed grass.
There were small white flowers, shaped like stars, growing around them.
Bees hovered over them. Life would return here, eventually.
There would be trees and animals, birds. Perhaps they would plant crops.
Eseld was looking at the castle.
‘I’ve renamed it,’ Arthur said. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’
‘This is your world, Arthur Pendragon,’ she said, turning to him. ‘I won’t see you again, after this moment. My role in this is over. The cycle is complete.’
Arthur nodded. ‘Be at peace, Eseld.’
Then she was gone, and it was just him and the soft breeze, Camelot shining in the sun in the distance.