He walked slowly back to the smaller streets to see more of the festivities when he spotted a man he recognized sitting on a stool outside of a pub. He was dressed in a finer cut of clothing than most of the others about and Merlin drifted by him. There was an empty seat close to him and Merlin took it. A young boy ran over to the magician and asked, “What be yer pleasure, sir?”
“Uh,” he stammered as he looked around, “one of those.” he said as he pointed to a man drinking a large cider. The boy trotted inside and returned putting it on the wooden table before him.
“Tis a’ half penny, sir.”
Merlin gave the boy a coin and sipped his cider. It was bitter and warm, but good. He was street-smart enough not to look at the man but listened as another man sat next to him.
Using his glass mug as a mirror, Merlin watched the man sit and put his drink on the wooden table. “So, Grogan, have ya plans ta joust?”
Merlin’s insides tensed, as he now knew where he saw the man before: It was Sir Grogan, the first knight they met after arriving here. He kept his eyes averted and was thankful for the cap that covered his long, gray hair.
“Not since them ragamuffins robbed me, Sir Hunt. I needs ta get me armor back as me friends seem ta shun me.”
“Be thee goin’ ta the church tomorrow night?” asked Sir Hunt as he sipped his ale.
“Ta see this one called Arthur be made king?” said Grogan as he slammed down his mug on the table. “I be there! I would see this one called Arthur all London speaks of.”
“And,” continued Sir Hunt, “Have yee tried ta remove the sword from the stone in yonder church?”
“Aye,” admitted Sir Grogan as he shrugged his shoulders. “Tis stuck in the stone firmly. Tis said that a wizard placed it there an’ he who removes it shall be named king.” He eyed his friend and asked, “Sir Hunt. Have ya tried ta remove the sword thineself?”
Hunt set his drink on the table, leaned close to Grogan and said, “Aye! Like thou I hast tried an’ like thou hast found it be stuck tight.” He sat back and picked up his drink as he went on, “Tomorrow night I too shall go to yon church ta see this Arthur remove it.”
“And,” countered Sir Grogan, “Should he remove the sword, shall you accept him as king?”
“Yes! England be much in need of a king. And if this one called Arthur removes the sword after all others hast failed, then he would be King of England an’ I shall swear allegiance ta him.”
Merlin finished his drink and walked away thinking, It seems that many shall follow Arthur but some will not.
The wizard walked the town and purchased vegetables and meats from some of the cleaner stalls that dotted the streets. He went back to the Topsy and persuaded Harold to let him cook the evening meal. Merlin scrubbed the pots he was going to use and created a stew with the chopped celery, onions, parsley, potatoes, carrots and small cuts of beef. He dropped all into the pot and added just enough water to cover the ingredients. The water was turning into gravy from the stocks he used and he thickened it with some of the flour he carried and rolled a few biscuits. He sat by the fire and stirred his mother’s recipe as he mentally rehearsed his show for the next evening.
That night, he served Harold, Thomas and James his creation. They all ate seconds and both men asked for his recipe. He slept well that night.
Under the dark night’s sky, Arty and the original Keansburg gang chatted with Ron, William, Guy and Frederick. The four teen-agers represented the various groups that, when all were together, made the group over three hundred strong. It just seemed natural that when Arty set up his tent, the others all surrounded his with their campsites. The topic was the next evening and what was in store for all of them after that.
“Camelot.” said Jennie as she roasted a carrot on a stick over the fire. “That was the name that Merlin called the castle.”
“So,” asked Arty as he addressed the four boys, “have any of you ever heard of it?”
All three nodded yes, as Ron said, “Camelot be an old, old castle, high up on a hill looking over the ocean. It be so old no one knows when twas built, sire. But, this much be known, there be spirits livin’ there an’ no live person dare step foot in there at dark.”
“Brrr,” said Percy as he pulled in and wrapped his arms around himself. “Bet it’s loaded with spiders and cobwebs. Man, I hate them.”
Ron nodded vigorously in agreement. “Tis! Tis as thou says, Sir Lefty. It be loaded with spiders and such.”
“Not a place ta live in.” added Frederick shaking his long, brown curly hair.
“Hey,” said Arty with a shrug of his shoulders. “Sounds like it’s got a lot going for it. If everyone is afraid to live there, it’s perfect for us! And besides, Merlin said it’s what happened anyway.”
The four boys didn’t understand Arty’s point but agreed with him anyway.
Jennie started to say something when a voice sounded from just outside of the soft light of the campfire.
“James Brown!”
Another voice answered it: “I feel good!”
The first voice said, “Enter.”
Arty was happy that he had decided to give the guards and scouts passwords so no one but their group could enter and listen to their conversations after dark without them knowing it. And, he thought, nobody would ever know about James Brown and his song, I Feel Good!
The scout was a fourteen-year old boy named Seth and he stopped in front of Ron when he entered the circle of light.
“Seth,” said Ron, “What news do ya bring?”
“There be men lookin’ fer Arty.”
They all looked at Arty who rose and went to the boy. “What men?”
“I know not who they be, Sire. But they be large and armed.”
“How many?”
“I saw but two hands full.”
“Ten,” said Arty biting his inner cheek. “But, ten armed men, and in the dark. I don’t like this at all.”
“Let’s grab our swords, Arty,” said Percy standing next to him.
“No,” said Arty. “They have the advantage.”
“How?” asked Ron, “There be hundreds of us and but ten of them, Sire. Surely we wouldst smite them.”
“First,” answered Arty. “It’s because we have so many more men than them that they have the advantage of just stabbing anyone around them while we must seek the ten out.” He shook his head and said, “No. We have to stay cool.” He turned to Seth and asked, “What are they saying?”
“They say: ‘where be this one called Arthur? Let us see him that we might honor him as he would be our king.’”
“They’re looking to capture you, Arty,” said Percy as he squeezed the handle of his sword.
“No,” put in Jennie as she stood with them. “They look to kill you.”
Arty shrugged his shoulders. “But why?”
“I’ll bet you anything that some guy hired them to kill you before you become his king. He’s probably a local who likes the way things are going and doesn’t want someone from the outside coming in and messing up his gig, whatever that may be.”
“Why do you think he looks at Arty as an outsider?” asked Garret joining in.
“Because,” answered Jennie, “these guys don’t know what Arty looks like. They’re walking around asking for him to show himself.” She shook her head as the light of the fire gleamed in her eyes at the thought of someone hurting her man. “We must make as though we are nothing more than travelers and hide Arty from them.”
“I don’t think I have to hide from . . .,” Arty started to say when she cut him off.
“You will hide! You will listen to me, Arthur, and live to see another day and not have your life snuffed out by some jealous low-life. Besides, this way we can see him and we’ll know what he looks like but he won’t know what you look like. Advantage us!” She pointed to some blankets stacked against the tent. “Now go. Get under them right now!”
Arty pulled the blankets over him as rustling and foo
tfalls were heard and three men approached their campsite. Another noise let the gang know that there were others just outside of the campfire’s light, waiting for their leader to call them to action.
“Hallo!” called the big man in front. He was very fat with a full beard and long, dangling brown hair. His face was ruddy and he looked through small beady eyes that told them he had been drinking. He rested a meaty hand on the hilt of his sword, as did his two friends. All three looked around as the man continued, “Good evening, friends. Know yee of one called Arthur? It be said what he wouldst be King o’ England an’ me an’ mine friends wouldst greet an’ honor him.”
Ron stepped forward and said in the voice of a naïve boy, “Sire. We have just arrived an’ know of no person. Pray tell, shouldst thou meet with the man called Arthur, wouldst thou let us know as we too shall honor him?”
Looking at the group of young boys and girls the man wiped his nose and said as he shuffled off, “Find him we shall, young dolt! An’ I, Sir Albert, will be tossin’ ya his head to worship. Ha!” His friends laughed along with him and others matched their laughter in the dark as the group of would-be assassins went to the next group calling out for Arthur.
Jennie stood with crossed arms as Arty appeared from beneath the blankets. “Sir Albert,” she said tapping her foot. “There goes a dangerous man, Arty.”
Arty put an arm around her and said, “Thank you, Jennie. I got to listen to you more often.”
Very early the next morning Merlin walked up to the church. Using a skill he forgot he possessed, he opened the door’s lock with a long, thin nail, sat in the front row and gazed at the stone holding the sword. He was dressed in his Wizard’s outfit and when he heard the lock being opened by the priest, he readied an egg loaded with flour as he ducked down in the pew. The man shuffled down the aisle and Merlin heard him as he yawned loudly. When his footsteps said he was in the middle of the church, the magician threw down the egg and it exploded with a rising cloud of flour that looked like smoke. The stunned priest stopped in his tracks and before the smoke cleared Merlin stood there with his arms crossed, smiling at him.
“Friend, Priest!” he boomed, “This be the day all will know of as, ‘when the King of England would be found in thine church’. Be thou ready for such an honor?”
“I-I-I be ready, friend Wizard. What is it that I should do on this day?”
“Nothing more than walk with me through the streets of London as together we proclaim the coming of the King of England.”
“Y-Y-Yee and meself? Together?”
“Surely,” answered Merlin as he placed his arm on the man’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “Why thou be the leader of this fine church and thy word be heard by the faithful an’ my word be heard by all who know of wizardry. Together we shall tell all of tonight’s meeting with the King of England.” He looked in the man’s eyes and said, “Be thou up to this honorable task?”
“I be, I be, Wizard Merlin! But, pray tell, must we go up to yon tower again?”
“No, friend Priest. This day we shall stroll about, arm-in-arm, and tell all of tonight’s free show.”
“Free?”
“Yes! For we would want all ta attend thine fine church this evening to see yee crown the king.”
“Me? Me crown the king?”
“Who else? I ask yee this, fine friend, were yee not here for the very beginning of this miracle?”
“I-I-I was!”
“Then, I ask again, why not thou?”
“Well, the people,” said the priest, “would they not think me taketh too much upon meself ta crown the king?”
“Exactly! Thou art so wise to hath hit it on the head! We must go about town telling them all, of the great event that they themselves will witness right here in thine own church. For, if the people o’ London see all that will happen, who shall say that thou art not the man to crown the king? And, the king himself will thank thee.”
The man’s eyes bulged as he said in almost a whisper, “The king himself will thank me?” He shook his head and went on in a louder, more important sounding, voice. “Then, I say to thee, Wizard Merlin, it be our duty ta tell all of London about this great event ta take place right here in mine own church.”
They left the church shoulder-to-shoulder and walked to the end of town, which now was awake with the hustle and bustle of a thriving city. As he had planned, Merlin started it off by pulling a flower from a fish woman’s hair and presented it to her. Seeing another woman selling flowers he pulled a small, fresh fish from her hair and presented it to her. A crowd started to gather and Merlin went from one person to another as he mesmerized them all.
Finally, he said in a booming voice, “Ladies and gentlemen of London. If thou dost enjoy my small show, then meet with the fine priest and meself tonight in yon church. The price for such a show would be one pence, but not this evening. This evening it be free for the citizens of London ta witness the comin’ o’ the King o’ England!”
The crowd roared their approval and Merlin said to the priest, “Reverend, thou appearing with me hast given an easiness to the crowd ta accept me, an’ I thank yee.”
“Then,” said the priest finding out that he didn’t need to do anything except escort the wizard about, “let us be on our way, great wizard as we have a mission to complete.” They went on to another batch of stalls and did the same routine and by the end of the day they had a huge crowd following them.
Realizing that he had to break away so he could go back and replenish his magic-making toys, Merlin had been looking for a place to disappear at. Finally, at a small corner he saw an empty alley. He palmed his last flour-filled egg and turned to the priest. “Good father,” he said, “I must take leave of thee as I must rest for a spell. As we have planned, after the evening-meal I will meditate behind thine altar of yon church and when the moon be high and all are in attendance, I shall appear and we shall see if this one called Arthur is amongst us.”
“Yes,” answered the priest as he patted his stomach, “I too am in need of rest and perhaps refreshment. I will be amongst the crowd this evening as I feel me place ta be among the people.”
Merlin smiled as he thought, Yes, safer to be in the audience than too close to a wizard when magic starts. He patted the priest on his shoulder and said, “Then, friend, I shall see thee this evening.” He pointed up at a cloud and said as the priest looked up, “The shape of yon cloud beckons me ta take leave of thee.” He quickly dropped the egg and the slight breeze carried the puff of smoky-looking flour between him and the priest and crowd. Merlin quickly ducked into the ally and ran around the corner while the crowd stood transfixed. Ten minutes later he entered Topsy House, tired, but happy.
Merlin and James spent the next few hours filling empty eggshells with flour and rigging Merlin’s outfit for the show, when Harold rapped on his door.
“Wizard Merlin, there be a boy here ta see ya.”
Merlin opened the door. “Fine. Let him come hither, friend Harold.”
A small boy who held his hat in his hands peeked at him from behind Harold. “Great Wizard. I bring thee a message of great import.”
“Come in, boy. What be it?”
The boy handed him a rolled up piece of parchment and Merlin read it.
Merlin. First off, all’s well. Just wanted to tell you that some fat knight who calls himself Sir Albert, was looking for me last night. Him and some of his goons looked like they were drunk and wanted to ‘honor’ me. Seems to Jennie that they really wanted to take my head. They asked for ‘He who is called Arthur as they wanted to honor him before he became king’. Just a heads-up that all is not like it might seem with these guys. There are some who might see the coming of a new king as someone that might interfere with their gig, whatever that might be. See you tonight, Arty. PS Break a leg, dude!”
Merlin folded the parchment and put it in his pocket as he turned to the boy and said, “Thank thee very much young fellow. This be for thou.” He took a coin
from behind the boy’s ear and placed it in his palm as the boy’s eyes bulged.
The boy bowed deeply. “Sire, thank thee much.”
“Go back an’ tell Arthur, I thank him.”
The boy ran back up the stairs.
When the sun was just about to set, Harold served Merlin, Thomas and James, plates full of chicken and roasted corn along with mugs of cider.
Merlin took the opportunity to ask, “Pray tell me, friends Harold and Thomas. Who be this fellow called, Sir Albert?”
Harold stopped in mid-sip of his drink and asked, “Why? How dost thou know of this man?”
Thomas added, “Sir Albert, it be said, hast gotten his name tarnished by his cheatin’ an’ such. Tis said that he be not an honorable knight like many others, but a scoundrel who would take thine purse in the night.”
“He be bad,” said Harold. “He an’ his cohorts seek ta harm all what would stop them from being bandits.” He took a bite of his chicken and asked, “How is it that thou knows of him?”
“He seeks out Arthur, methinks ta do him harm.”
Thomas nodded. “Aye! Twould be his way ta harm ‘he who would be king’ afore he becomes king.”
“Does Albert know of yer friendship with Arthur?”
“No,” answered Merlin. “Methinks not. But this very evening twould be Sir Albert’s last chance ta harm him afore he becomes king.”
Harold nodded his head, “Friend Merlin, best he not know of thy friendship with Arthur.”
The priest was lighting one of the twenty torches that lined both sides of the church’s interior as he whistled merrily. The door opened and three men entered, one of them was Sir Albert. He strutted down the center aisle and stopped by the small man.
“Friend,” said the priest with a smile on his face, “Be yee back ta try ta remove the sword again? Ya be welcome ta try again but methinks by now yer arms be hurtin’ fer tryin’ so many times.”
“Good Priest,” he answered through gritted teeth, “this time I be here ta see this Arthur who all say will remove it an’ become king.”
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