The Story of Silence

by Alex Myers

  ‘So well said! So erudite! And so completely wrong! We are what we become. What’s been your greatest fear, all your life?’

  Death? No. That was sometimes a fear, but it was the fear of a moment, born out of the terror of a battle. Losing honour?

  ‘Go on. What fear rides you every day, as if you were its steed?’ Merlin prodded.

  Every day. When they woke up … and waited for Alfred to leave the chamber before washing or changing. When they sat at table … and the serving girl winked at them and they imagined what would happen if they took the suggestions the other knights whispered. In training when the weather was hot and the others stripped to their bare chests or when one of them, when they wrestled, catching a grip to topple Silence, took hold between their legs …

  ‘Say it,’ Merlin whispered, leaning so close that Silence could smell yesterday’s sour wine on his breath. ‘Say it. It’s been there so long and deep and thick that it doesn’t feel like fear any more … it feels like part of you. Say it.’

  ‘Fear of being found out,’ Silence choked.

  ‘Found out as …’

  ‘A girl.’ Their voice had never been smaller.

  ‘That’s it! That’s it! Well done.’ Merlin thumped them on the back with his bound hands, lost his balance and would have fallen from Wind’s back had Silence not caught him by his scruffy hair and returned him to his perch.

  ‘What has this to do with magic?’

  ‘Ah. Where does magic come from?’

  Silence frowned, guessing. ‘No one knows. That’s part of it being magic, I suppose.’

  ‘It comes from the in-between, that’s what. It comes from the junctions, from the power sparked by the tension of that in-between. To be able to do magic, you must be able to stand on both sides of the problem. You have to be the node, the nexus. You’re in-between. By Nature a girl, by Nurture a boy. A Nurture guided by Nature. Unique. As we all are – but more true. What’s shown and what’s known. Magic can come from that.’

  Silence looked at the man. ‘And you? You have the most magic of all. How are you in-between?’

  ‘You must know my story. Flatter me, please! Tell me of my birth.’

  Silence cast back for the tales they’d learned – the longer version of Vortigern’s tower – and they sang a few verses. How Merlin’s mother had been a nun, devout and chaste, how a demon had found her beautiful and vowed to take her as his wife. How the demon had tempted her, but she had resisted, and so the demon had sneaked down and by force (though he beguiled her in a dream and so she did not realize the violation) taken the woman and planted his seed within her. The result: Merlin.

  ‘Ah, so lovingly told. Yes, yes. I am half-human, half-demon. Half of this world, half of the other world. Very in-between. That’s how magic works. Leverage of one against the other. The queen’s curse put me between the realm of beast and the realm of man. By Nature, a man, by Nurture, a beast. Even now I keep feeling tempted to chew on grass.’

  ‘Nature and Nurture,’ Silence mused. ‘I have often felt those two were waging a war over me. My father wanted me to be a boy, but on the surface only. And I wanted to be a boy, deeper down. A boy the same as the other boys.’

  ‘And being a knight was the perfect way to prove that. So when did you feel the struggle ceased?’

  ‘When I ran away?’ Silence said. ‘When I no longer had to listen to my father or to Griselle tell me the things I couldn’t do?’ They said it, but they doubted their own answer. ‘Or never? There’s still this … divide. There’s who I am and what I do and how I want to be … and there’s my body, which I must keep hidden. And whenever I see it, or even when I see another’s body, I’m reminded … that’s what I am. But I’m not!’ The last came out of them more sharply than they intended. ‘I want to be done with the hiding and the denying. I do.’

  ‘Yes. The battle to discover yourself. The quest. You sense the power in that? How the tension pulls? Like a bowstring. Like a harp string. Ready to be plucked. Ready to be released. There’s magic.’

  ‘Much good it does for me,’ Silence grumped, and though they were tempted to sulk quietly, they said to Merlin, ‘Do you know the story about you that I’ve always preferred to the tale of the tower?’

  ‘What’s that?’ the old wizard said, keen to hear of his fame as any man would be.

  ‘Of how you sneaked Uther Pendragon into my ancestor’s keep to let him lie with his wife.’

  ‘And why do you like that tale?’

  ‘It puzzled me as a child – why you would help someone in doing something so wrong.’

  Merlin shook his shaggy head. ‘Silence, Silence. Wrong and right are not so simple. You would be an honest knight, would you not?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘You could have told the truth and cleared your name – avoided the trip to Gwenelleth entirely, and yet …’

  ‘Yes, well, then I would be honest, but would no longer be a knight,’ Silence snapped.

  ‘Ah. So being a knight trumps honesty?’

  They opened their mouth, shut it, opened it once more.

  ‘Sometimes honesty serves, and sometimes destiny does. I needed to be dishonest and help Uther in order to bring Arthur into the world. The only way it could be done.’

  ‘Could you glamour me?’ Silence blurted, one last desperate attempt. ‘So I was really a man?’

  ‘A glamour isn’t real. You make yourself who you are. If, after all this effort, you still feel you are not a man … perhaps that isn’t who you are.’

  ‘I am. It’s others who would say I’m not,’ Silence insisted, but they could not dispel the doubt they felt at their own words. Something had shifted. They were not just a man. They were something more.

  ‘Well, that’s settled,’ Merlin replied, though Silence could hear the mockery in his voice.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The nearer they drew to Winchester, the gloomier Silence became. Crowds cheered – Earl Silence has returned! He has Merlin! An Innkeeper insisted on putting them up for the night, or at least feeding them, and Merlin refused to let them turn down either the feather bed or the groaning table. ‘Too long in the woods to say no to that!’ the old man said, and then he’d dived in – to both bed and feast, naked and dirty and delighted.

  But all the rejoicing made Silence more mournful. Though they were far from being a prophet, even they could foretell the end of this road. How would they bring Merlin in without everyone knowing their Nature? And what would happen once they did?

  Silence had the top room in the inn; Merlin was chained and trussed and sleeping merrily (and drunkenly) in the stable, where the innkeeper had insisted on posting half a dozen village lads as guards. Alone in his room, Silence knelt on the floor, steepling their hands. ‘Dear God,’ they prayed. ‘What am I to do? If Merlin goes to court, I am revealed. If I let Merlin go, I fail at my quest. In either case, I am ruined.’ They let their mind go blank and listened. First, to the pulse and rush of blood in their ears and the crickets outside the chamber. Then to a greater nothing that whispered back not in words, but in pressing thoughts. Be true, be true, be true.

  They opened their eyes, the sense of that washing over them. Be true. Queen Eufeme had lied. Silence had to right that wrong. Be true. They were Silence, a knight. They were a boy-who-was-a-girl. That was true. They could either double the lies – let the queen’s deceit stand and add their own deception to the balance – or be true to their singular bothness. Perhaps, as Merlin promised, there would be magic there.

  Eager crowds lined the road to Winchester the following morning. Silence urged Bold through as the crowds whooped in jubilation, their own mind fixed on what was certainly their doom. Justice, they told themselves, truth. The king had ordained this to be their punishment or reward. Find Merlin; Merlin would declare the truth. But what if the truth both freed and imprisoned? Proved both innocence and guilt? No, not guilt …

  As to Merlin, he rode on Wind’s back as if he were the con
quering champion, lifting his bound hands to wave or offer a cheer of his own. He broke into peals of laughter at random intervals, so raucous that he often doubled over or slid down Wind’s side. Silence would get the old man righted, and give Wind a pat for his patience. ‘That woman …’ Merlin might cry. ‘You wouldn’t believe what she has hidden in the cow shed! Oh my!’ And he’d laugh and laugh. Everyone has something they want to keep secret, Silence thought. It wasn’t right that Merlin could bring it all out in the open. That must be the gift of his demon father … but wasn’t it God who could see all that one did, and knew all of one’s thoughts? They pressed Bold faster. Silence was no priest, no philosopher. Silence was a knight, a former minstrel. Forward.

  The castle of Winchester rose above them. King Evan sent a dozen knights to escort Silence and Merlin the final distance. Alfred was easy to spot; the knight wore a resplendent green and gold tabard over a wholly unnecessary set of glinting armour. But Silence could forgive the gaudiness as Alfred spurred his horse forward and threw his arm around Silence’s shoulder, almost choking them. ‘You did it! I knew you would. This’ll be the end of that evil queen, eh?’

  Silence tried to reply, but strangled on the words. ‘I hope you are right,’ they managed and even smiled. They could almost believe that with Alfred by their side, they might survive this day.

  ‘That Merlin’s quite a sight. Can’t we get some clothes for him?’ Alfred asked.

  Silence was used to the old man’s nakedness by now. ‘He won’t put any on,’ they said. ‘There’s no reasoning with him.’ And why bother? Given what the day held in store, Merlin’s nudity was likely to be the least shocking aspect.

  The crowds quieted as the throng of knights, Silence and Merlin in their midst (already Silence felt apart from them), turned away from the town centre and onto the road that led to the castle. As they approached the first gatehouse, Silence heard a shrill voice crying, ‘Silence! Silence!’ They would recognize that call anywhere: Griselle. Shielding their eyes, they cast about in the crowd, at last spotting her frantic waving. For the first time that day, a genuine smile split Silence’s face, and they passed Bold’s reins to Alfred as they dismounted.

  ‘Griselle!’ They ran to her and grabbed her in a massive embrace, spinning her about.

  ‘Put me down! This isn’t seemly. You’ll crack a rib. I’m too old! I’m too old!’

  They spun her once more and set her on her feet. ‘I’ve missed you so …’ The seneschal from Ringmar made his way over to them as well and bowed to Silence. Silence ignored the bow, seized the man by the shoulders, and kissed him on both cheeks.

  ‘You wouldn’t have known that you missed us at all. No word from you! All these years and years, you couldn’t have …’ Griselle might have carried on, but the seneschal hushed her.

  ‘I know. I’ve been …’ and Silence wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. Afraid? Selfish? Mostly afraid – believing that if they didn’t come up close to their past, they could escape that truth about themselves. But today would see the end of that.

  ‘Earl Silence?’ one of the knights called. ‘We’d best be going. The king …’

  ‘A palfrey for the lady,’ they said. ‘And a pony for the gentleman.’

  ‘Earl Silence!’ Griselle exclaimed and broke out into fresh wails. ‘Oh, your poor father. Such a noble man. I’m glad at least that he saw you before he died, and that he knew …’ She blew her nose on a rag the seneschal handed her. ‘That he knew how good you were. A knight! And now earl. And here you are with Merlin. You’ll prove that you were falsely accused, will you not?’

  ‘I will,’ Silence said grimly.

  The palfrey and the pony materialized at the hands of two flushed squires and Silence helped Griselle mount. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You go ride with the boys.’

  The boys, as if Silence were still a little child. They had missed her so. Perhaps they should never have run away. Silence climbed back into Bold’s saddle and the group set off once more.

  ‘What’s transpired while I sought this madman prophet?’ Silence asked, leaning close to Alfred.

  ‘After you left, there was some uproar. The king tried to confine the queen to her chambers.’ He dropped his voice. ‘Though he has to keep a good face on in public, it’s clear he doesn’t trust her. Everyone knows you’re chaste and honest.’

  Chaste and honest. That Silence was. And other things. The question was, which way would the balance fall? What virtues would count, once Merlin had his say? For that matter, would Merlin speak the truth? After all, he had been part and parcel of a deception long ago at Tintagel … who was to say he wouldn’t deceive again?

  ‘The queen begged leave to go to a convent, and she spent some time there, in prayer and fasting and contemplation. She returned not too long ago, with a new priest whose sermons are intolerably lengthy. She also brought a nun from the convent, who is her constant companion, and is said to lead her in meditation and prayer.’

  ‘Is she changed?’ Silence asked. People could reform; they believed this. And they didn’t want to punish a woman who had set her mind to better sights.

  ‘I can hardly say. Women are hopelessly corrupt, are they not? They seem one way on the outside, but are something else on the inside.’ Silence winced as Alfred looked over his shoulder at Merlin, who was laughing at something only he could see. ‘But now we’ll know for certain.’

  Guards let them through the gates, grooms came to take their horses, and the steward ushered them inside. ‘Earl Silence,’ he said in a low voice that only Silence could hear, ‘I’m glad you have returned. Many of us have faith in you.’

  ‘Thank you. Is there time that I might wash and shake the dust out?’

  ‘I fear not,’ the steward said. ‘The king insists that he must hear from Merlin immediately. You can imagine his agitation.’

  ‘I can,’ Silence said. They unclasped their riding cloak and handed it to a squire.

  The steward nodded in approval. ‘I can tell by how firmly you stand, by how even your countenance is, that you are utterly certain in what Merlin will say. You are innocent, I know it,’ he whispered.

  ‘The queen’s accusations are false,’ Silence said.

  ‘Come,’ the steward said. ‘The king is ready. I’ll stand beside you.’

  And so Silence led a very strange entourage into the great hall. Silence held the rope that bound the naked Merlin, who trailed behind. Alfred and the steward flanked Merlin, along with Alfred’s squire, and, behind them, Griselle and the Seneschal of Ringmar.

  Ahead, on the raised dais, King Evan sat in a chair draped with a rich fur robe. To his left, at the front of the platform, stood the chancellor with his black staff of office, ready to call the hall to order. To the king’s right stood Queen Eufeme, and with her was a nun. Both were clad in sombre black robes, and the nun, who stood nearly a head taller than the queen, wore a white veil and wimple, while the queen wore a black wimple. She looked thinner, more severe. He met her gaze as he walked down the central aisle, searching for any indication of remorse, finding none.

  ‘Quiet, now!’ the chancellor cried, banging his staff against the floor. Silence came to a halt a few feet in front of the dais and bowed low to the king.

  ‘Earl Silence,’ the chancellor said. ‘You were dismissed from the king’s presence until such time as you could capture and return with the prophet Merlin. How do you come here today?’

  ‘Lord Chancellor,’ Silence replied, ‘I come here today with the prophet and wizard Merlin, whom I have lately captured in the forest of Gwenelleth.’

  ‘And how did you manage such a capture? For it is said that only a maiden could break the curse that was set upon Merlin … or are you a great sorcerer as well as a knight and a minstrel?’

  ‘I make no claims to magic,’ Silence replied.

  ‘Enough of this banter,’ the king said.

  Silence faced the king and saw how these few days had aged the ruler – where the que
en seemed thinner, keener, King Evan looked even heavier, his skin grey and ashen. ‘Your Majesty,’ Silence said, bowing once again. They tugged the rope that bound Merlin, meaning to suggest that the wizard should bow as well, but Merlin ignored the hint, gazing instead at the throng of knights and nobles behind him, now and then chuckling to himself. Silence tugged the rope harder and Merlin turned irritably towards the king. ‘What?’ he said.

  ‘Bow,’ Silence hissed.

  ‘Is that the king?’ Merlin said and burst out laughing. ‘And that’s the queen?’ he gasped and laughed even louder. ‘And who stands beside the queen, in all white?’

  The chancellor peered down at Merlin, his nose wrinkling in disgust. ‘That is Mother Alma, of the Convent of Our Lady of Tears, lately here to minister to the queen in this time of trouble and turmoil.’

  At these words Merlin collapsed to the floor, guffawing outrageously and rolling about. ‘It’s too much, it’s too much!’ he laughed.

  ‘What is so amusing?’ Silence hissed.

  ‘Both of you! And no one knows! I thought I came to unveil one truth, but I’ll soon uncover two! Haw!’

  ‘You scoundrel!’ shouted the queen. Silence saw to their surprise that the queen was pointing at them, not Merlin. ‘You fraud! You have brought back some drunken madman and are trying to pass him off as Merlin. We will not be fooled!’

  ‘Quiet, woman,’ the king growled. ‘You. Merlin. Why are you laughing?’

  But Merlin only laughed harder and managed, between laughs, to gasp, ‘You’ll see, you’ll see. Soon enough.’

  ‘Bind him tighter. Gag him as well,’ the king ordered. Guards rushed to carry out his commands and soon Merlin lay on the floor, his wrists tied behind him, his ankles lashed together, a kerchief jammed in his mouth. ‘Chancellor. Read the charges.’

  The chancellor tapped his staff of office once more and said, ‘Earl Silence stands accused by Queen Eufeme of an attack most heinous. Of clouting her serving lady over the head, of commanding the queen to lie with him, of hitting the queen and tearing her hair when she refused, and of forcing himself upon her.’ The chancellor paused. ‘In view of Earl Silence’s heretofore unblemished record, the king decreed that an expert must be found. There being none more knowledgeable of the truth than Merlin, Earl Silence was sent forth to capture Merlin and return with him to court, that the prophet might resolve the matter once and for all.’