The mace was passed across to Sir Kay.
“Aye, Sir Gareth. Again, this very morn, there was the Lady Gwendolyn alone who joined the guards, myself and Sir Gareth at the top of the keep. She attempted to deny that a dragon had caused the thunder and lightning. Fire came from out of the clouds, merely the clouds, she said, claiming there had been no dragon hiding there. Sir Gareth questioned her most respectfully, most honourably, sire, I attest to that. But the Lady Gwendolyn insisted there was no dragon that had attacked the castle, but that fire and flames came from out of the clouds. Noble knights, my fellows – there is more energy that comes from a babe in arms than exists in the body of clouds! The Lady Gwendolyn was spreading falsehoods!”
At this point, King Arthur stood and requested the mace be passed over.
“Noble knights, my chosen few, I have to say that the evidence of the plague is even more alarming,” he began. “Honoured Knights of the Round Table – we can take up arms to defend Camelot from the fiercest attacks from without. We have repelled sieges from barbarians, Danes and Saxons many times over the years. We will stand as one to prevent even the most mighty of dragons from entering this most revered and treasured citadel. But to stop the spread of some malevolent spirit from invading the bodies of our ladyfolk? I am certain that every last one of us here would lay his life on the line to prevent this. Yet my beloved Guinevere, the fair queen herself, at this moment lies sick as we gather at the Round Table today! Sir Gareth came to see me before this morn with the dreadful news that this sickness is spreading and it can only be a plague spread by the most evil of influences. I have thus commanded the bell to be rung and for us all to assemble. Tell us more, Sir Gareth!”
“Where did this plague originate?” Sir Gareth asked. “Who was struck down first? It was the loyal and faithful maid to Lady Gwendolyn who was the first and is the most affected by this sickness. She lays now bed-ridden and her condition worsens by the hour. Who next? Two of Lady Gwendolyn’s companion ladies-in-waiting with whom she has shared much time recently have since become afflicted, and then – to the dismay of us all – the plague has struck our beloved queen and consort to the king. But who will fall next? Are we to await the attack of evil on the very head and heart of Camelot? The king? Can we afford to wait or should we first strike as quickly as possible to remove this malevolent spirit before it destroys our leader, our king, the very foundation stone of everything we have created here? Fellow knights: the survival of Camelot is threatened.”
“No!” Uproar followed. Knights rose to their feet; swords flashed in the air. “Death to all evil!” was a cry that echoed around the chamber of the Round Room. And to what evil should all these swords be pointed? None other than the evil that resided within the Lady Gwendolyn.
Chapter 7
THE MISCHIEVOUS DEMON
King Arthur called for order once more. “Noble colleagues, honourable friends, I thank each and every one of thee for thy loyal support. But stay your passions for a moment. Sir Gareth has spoken most eloquently, most fearfully, and indeed doth most sadly recount his utmost despair for the soul of the Lady Gwendolyn. But there is one amongst us who has counselled the fair lady for years as if he were her father and has ministered to her on a daily basis since her recent fever. He knows the fair lady better than all of us and I desire to hear his opinion. His wisdom and recommendation has always served the Round Table well in the past and I do not doubt Merlyn has no little insight with which to enlighten us on this occasion too. Merlyn – the mace!”
Merlyn rose slowly to take the mace. He shook his head in sadness, held still for a moment, then slowly began to air his thoughts.
“There is much that Sir Gareth has said that is true. I personally formed the same opinion as my noble friend before the bell summoned me to this table: that the source of the troubles that have been visited upon Camelot can only have come from Lady Gwendolyn. All the evidence, I regret to say, leads me to this conclusion that I share with the noble knight.” Merlyn stopped. He looked about the Round Table, took a deep breath and continued, emphasising each individual point with a tap of his fingers on the table.
“Honourable Knights of the Round Table, I have served yourselves for decades, and before yourselves, many of your fathers. I have been face to face with evil on a number of occasions. The king himself knowest I speak true. But hear this: I do not believe that the good Lady Gwendolyn has become consumed with evil. No! Rather that, somehow, in the fever that brought her close to death, some form of mischievous demon has seized hold of her. I believe, however, that the goodness that we all know was her true character before her illness is still within her but at present is dormant, unable to assert itself, whilst the demon is in ascendance in her soul. How so a mischievous spirit, and not pure evil? Because in the exercise of malevolence that this spirit propagates lie also the seeds of some contrasting remedy. As Sir Gareth so astutely surmised on his first encounter with the lady after her fever, her language was strange, even offensive, as if designed to spread discord amongst us. But at the same time as this, almost as if t’were by accident, she suggested a potent new medicine to cure the queen’s toothache and improve the health of her smile. And again, this very morn, she seemed firstly unaware that her own influence was at fault for the sickness that has befallen her maid, Kate, as well as to our beloved queen and, almost in the same breath as pointing out to me the plague that is afoot, she has suggested a remedy that will contain it. There is a mischievous demon within her, therefore, that is playing with her, and though her, with us all…”
Sir Kay rose to request the mace and contest the words of the old magician.
“The dragon, wise Merlyn! The dragon! The Lady Gwendolyn, or if thou speakest true, the mischievous demon within her has clearly summoned the dragon to attack Camelot. Has this demon let slip some form of weakness by which one may beat off the next assault, or in some way draw out the dragon’s teeth and fire?” Sir Kay passed the mace back across the table so that Merlyn might reply.
“I thank thee, Sir Kay, for that intervention for truly thy suggestion is the key test of my supposition. I will speak more of this in a moment. As yet, in truth, I have not spoken to the Lady Gwendolyn about the dragon. I have spoken little with her, except to discuss the sickness that has overcome her loyal and faithful servant. I have in fact insisted that the good lady should stay by her maid’s bedside and care for her in the same way that she herself has been served. For that reason, Lady Gwendolyn has not visited the gallery above, as is her right as the queen’s closest confidant. She is in her maid’s chambers – evidence in my view that evil has not yet been successful in completely consuming her soul. The mischievous spirit within her has a malevolent side – of that I do not doubt – but it is contested still within her ladyship by her own innate goodness. And noble knights – is that not true of all of us? Search thine own conscience, each one of thee. Is it not true that for each and every one of us, there resides deep down within us a voice that would have us act dishonourably on occasions? Do we not all, at times, have to fight base emotions within ourselves in order that good may triumph? It would be easy to be good; indeed there would be no honour in being good if we were each born without the capacity for evil. It is because we choose to fight against our own demons that we thereby achieve honour. And so I ask that we give to Lady Gwendolyn that same choice as we give ourselves. If she chooses to be good, then she and Camelot are saved. If the demon within her is triumphant, however, and she cannot contain the evil within her soul, then it must be for some chosen knight amongst us to end her life and that of the malevolent spirit that has overpowered her. Sir Kay – you ask about the dragon. Noble sire, allow me to ask the Lady Gwendolyn about this dragon. I shall ask in a most innocent and innocuous way what does the lady think about dragons and their formidable powers. If I am right, the mischievous spirit within her will reveal some clue as to how we might successfully draw the dragon’s teeth and fire, as you ask. That will prove my hypothesis cor
rect. And if so, from thereon it will be for us to devise a quest to give my lady opportunity to come to terms with her own mischievous demon and in doing so, allow good to ultimately triumph against evil. The demon will be exorcised by the lady’s own efforts. What sayest thou, Sir Kay? Dost thou agree? And, Sir Gareth? My honourable Knights of the Round Table, how dost this argument sound? My king, how dost thee command?”
It was a long speech. A longish silence followed, as all thought through Merlyn’s words. Then one knight applauded – it was Sir Gareth. Others soon followed and applause soon rang round the chamber. Finally, King Arthur called for the mace. He rose from the table.
“Wise Merlyn, thou art a true and faithful servant of Camelot. Thy wisdom shames us all. We who would rush out unthinkingly to confront evil may do more harm than good. Thy counsel – that we each have to confront our own demons – is undoubtedly true. That we should grant this same choice to the fair Lady Gwendolyn must also be true. For near two decades she has been the very epitome of goodness at Camelot and in so doing has captured the hearts of many, including that of mine own dear queen. So how can we not deny the fact that she deserves her own right to contest the mischievous spirit within her and thus attain honour, like everyone else present here, myself included? I propose we follow Merlyn’s recommendation, therefore. Are there any here who would wish to differ? Or otherwise wish to express a contrary opinion?”
None did.
“It is thus decided. Merlyn, our most valiant and valued friend, it is hereby entrusted to you to test the fair Lady Gwendolyn and to inform us all of what transpires as a result. Let none who hear these words, at this Round Table or above in the gallery, betray what has happened here this afternoon. Let none speak with the Lady Gwendolyn until Merlyn has first given her the choice between good and evil of which he has spoken. Let none, by accident or design, frustrate this most important venture that Merlyn is about to undertake. This, by order of the Round Table, the highest order of chivalric code within Camelot and abroad in the entire country. I, King Arthur, on behalf of the Round Table, order it so.”
The meeting ended.
* * *
Kate, the queen and indeed the entire court that shared the castle of Camelot had no defence against a flu virus that came straight from the twenty-first century. Fortunately, Gwen was a strong, healthy girl and had arrived in the fifth century with no virulent strain of this debilitating and sometimes fatal sickness incubating within her. But what was a mere cold to someone from the future could nonetheless be a serious, life-threatening sickness to those who had no experience of such an ailment from a different age. Kate was very ill, therefore, and needed constant attention. Gwen, with no previous experience nor interest in caring for others, was both bemused and intensely annoyed at the being required to perform nursing duties. But she had to do it. Kate was too ill even to rise and visit the toilet next door so Gwen, though she resisted until the last moment, had to go fetch a pan from the kitchens, return to Kate’s bedside, encourage her toilet and then had to dispose of it and sluice it away down the hole in the next door toilet room. Ugh! She was not at all happy with her new role.
Gwen had no hesitation in telling Merlyn all this when he next visited. She was angry at him for making her perform such tasks and insisted yet again that someone other than she should be called upon to do this dirty work. Merlyn simply ignored her. He had other things on his mind.
When Gwen’s tirade against toilets, primitive technologies and the lack of castle staff had worn itself out, Merlyn turned the conversation towards dragons and the attack on the castle the night before. Gwen was as dismissive as ever.
“Why don’t you people get it?” she enquired impatiently. “There are no such things as dragons, nor fire-breathing demons – just like there is no Loch Ness Monster nor Father Christmas! Has anyone honestly seen a dragon? Except in their dreams, that is.”
“No dragons? Then how dost thee account for the serious damage inflicted upon the castle?” Merlyn asked.
Gwen groaned. “It was thunder and lightning! Don’t ask me how clouds produce all that ‘cos I dunno. OK? Clever bastards like Gareth Jones would know and could explain it, but not me. One thing I do know, however, is that without a lightning conductor, any tall building is vulnerable to being damaged by a lightning strike, should an electric storm hit. Clever Gareth once told me that.”
“Would this clever bar steward Gareth Jones know how to protect Camelot, therefore?”
“Sure! I just said, Merlyn – if we had a lightning conductor then that would protect us.”
“How so, milady?”
“It’s…it’s like a great sword or metal spike that pokes up into the sky on the roof. It is connected to a thick metal rod or cable that runs all the way down the building from the very top, in more or less a straight line, to the very bottom and then deep into the earth. Lightning is sort of attracted to the top of this sword and away from the building itself; the electric current then passes all the way down the metal rod and harmlessly into the ground. Only if the cable is broken then the electricity enters the building. Kaboom! Not good! Gettit? You gotta construct the lightning rod all the way from top to bottom in an unbroken line. And if the lightning comes, don’t touch the rod! You’ll get electrocuted! Zillions of volts will fry your insides!”
Merlyn nodded sagely. Another rare story. He thought it through…if he understood right, the dragon’s fire would go down the metal and not into the building. Again, he could see some sense in this. Blacksmiths heating up metal to forge swords or, more commonly, to produce horseshoes know all about the superior power of metal to conduct heat away from a fire. Why shouldn’t that idea work on a grand scale – taking a dragon’s fire down and away from the battlements and into the earth below where it would be swallowed up and defeated? The idea was quite ingenious.
“My lady, thine ideas and arguments are as always quite fascinating. If I may be so bold, I will say that ideas such as these – if they work – will save thy life, as well as the lives of others…”
“What do you mean, Merlyn, save my life? Have I been accused of spreading evil, like you warned me? Have I? Tell me I haven’t, please!”
“I regret, my lady, that indeed thou hast been so accused.”
“Oh, Merlyn! You don’t think I’m evil do you? Do you? You will defend me against these stupid accusations, won’t you? Tell me you would! What do you think of me?”
“Milady, I did indeed warn thee that since thy fever, thy words and deeds strike many here as strange and unbecoming a lady. How come such a gracious and fair young maiden has become so radically different, challenging, even threatening in her comportment? How come she seeks to defend dragons? How come some strange and alien affliction has laid low not only thy servant and ladies thou hast recently met with, but has even attacked the queen and thus struck at the very heart of Camelot?”
“But I’m not evil! I’m different, that’s all. So I know things and believe things that must seem strange to people here, I suppose you are right. As for this affliction you accuse me of…well that might be true, now you come to mention it. It is like going back to work after a holiday – people bring all sorts of viruses with them. I could’ve brought some virus with me….but it’s just a cold, isn’t it? Or maybe the flu? That will pass in time, I’m sure of it. Christ I hope it does, ‘cos if not I can see I’m gonna be in big trouble…”
“Milady, thou art already in big trouble”
“But haven’t you defended me, Merlyn? Don’t tell me you believe I am some evil influence?”
“My Lady Gwendolyn, I do not believe that thou art evil. But thou hast undoubtedly and suddenly become a strange and challenging influence amongst us. That cannot be denied. Some rare magic has infected thee, has brought thee hence from another time and place, thou hast said. Such magic neither thee nor I can explain. But whatever is this place that thou knowest, it must be an aggressive, hostile and unfriendly world for that is the temperament thou brin
g’st with thee.”
Gwen protested angrily at this accusation. “That’s not fair, Merlyn! You’ve no right to insult me or my home like that. It’s much more sophisticated and advanced than this hole I’m now stuck in!”
“Milady, thou reveal’st the aggression of which I speak. Thou complainest mightily about Camelot and insist that this other place of which thou speakest is in some way advanced, or superior. Thine own comportment contradicts thee. There is little noble, honest and true in much of what thou dost practise. Thou demandest that others should serve thee, but do not wish to serve others; thou hast taken food from the kitchens with no thought for those thou denies in so doing; thou speakest roughly with knights and attendants alike. These are not the ways of some advanced and civilised society. The illness that thou hast brought with thee is but a symbol of a more subtle but even more deadly influence that thou bring’st: a mean and ungenerous spirit which, if it were to spread, would eat away at the very essence of Camelot. Lady Gwendolyn, until this magic that has hold of thee dost let go of thy character, thou must change thy ways. Fight down the demon within thee that complains at everything and corrupts thy vision. Learn to see and value the goodness around thee.”
This sounded like more moralising – similar to what Kate had said earlier; similar indeed to what Gwen’s own mother had been going on and on about for years and years until Gwen had closed her ears against it and pushed her mother away. This was the same old tune and Gwen didn’t want to hear any more of it.
Merlyn could see the resentful expression on Gwen’s face and understood that she could not take much more. Her capacity to learn was exhausted. Time to lay his message on the line.
Welcome to Camelot Page 11