“You seriously want to hold a banquet tonight?” Merlin, King Arthur’s manservant, asked in the morning hours of Camelot. The two friends were in Arthur’s chambers. Merlin was making up his bed, and Arthur was sitting at his desk.
He held his quill pen in his hand and explained, “Merlin, Camelot has been at peace for two weeks now. Don’t you think this is a cause for celebration?”
The young king was in his early twenties. He had blonde hair and blue eyes. Merlin was about his age, maybe a little bit younger. He had black hair. He was also a powerful sorcerer, but Arthur didn’t know this. After all, magic was outlawed in Camelot.
At Arthur’s question, Merlin shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, but—”
“I’m the king of Camelot. I can do whatever I want,” Arthur argued.
“I am aware of that, but perhaps we should think this over?” Merlin questioned. He forced a nervous smile.
“I can have as many banquets and ladies as I want,” continued Arthur.
“Ooh, is that what being a king looks like to you?” said Merlin.
Arthur rolled his eyes. He was lucky Merlin was his friend. Anyone else who talked to him like that would probably get flogged. Clearing his throat, he said, “Besides, I think a banquet is the perfect way to get you away from the tavern.”
Merlin let out a sarcastic scoff. “Trust me, sire. I do not think about the tavern every day.”
“Really? Then how come I always hear you’re in it?”
Merlin scoffed again, finishing with Arthur’s bed. He turned and faced him, expecting him to throw something.
Arthur didn’t. He merely rose from his chair and gave his orders. “We don’t have time for this. I need you to polish my armor, muck out my stalls, and wash my clothes. After that, I want you to put together the largest feast Camelot has ever seen. I’m going to call it the Feast of Peace.”
“Yes, sire.” Bowing, Merlin turned on his heel. He picked up his dirty clothes and left Arthur’s chambers.
He didn’t even get halfway down the hallway before Arthur called for him. “Merlin!”
“Oh boy.” Merlin turned around to see him coming in his direction.
“I didn’t give you permission to leave,” Arthur complained.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want me to tie a rope to us?” Merlin joked. “You just told me to get ready for the feast.”
“That’s Feast of Peace to you! Here, you forgot these.” Arthur tossed his old bedsheets into Merlin’s already full arms. “I want them thoroughly scrubbed. All right, now you have my permission to start your chores.”
Merlin gagged when he smelled Arthur’s sheets.
Smirking, his friend gave him a pat on the shoulder.
***
Merlin first polished Arthur’s armor, but he worked on it in Gaius’s place. Gaius was the court physician of Camelot. He had brilliant knowledge about science and magic and was Merlin’s father-like figure. Since Merlin was going to be busy today, he used magic so the armor could polish itself.
Unfortunately, Gaius caught him. After finishing his daily round of delivering medicine to citizens, he stepped into the room. Gaius was an elderly man with long, white hair. To Merlin, he asked, “Just what on Earth are you doing?”
Merlin was so shocked that he jumped. He quickly ordered for the armor to stop polishing itself. It fell to the ground with a loud clang.
Gaius crossed his arms, anxiously waiting for Merlin’s excuse.
The young man said, “I have to, Gaius. I am going to be extremely busy today. Arthur expects me to finish my chores and get ready for the banquet tonight.”
“So, he’s following through with it?” Gaius wanted to know.
Merlin chuckled. “Well, considering how much of a dollop head and clotpole he is, I’m not surprised.” He lost his smile, adding, “Don’t you find it strange, Gaius, that Morgana hasn’t attacked for two weeks?”
Shrugging, Gaius set his medicine bag down on a table and admitted, “Maybe a little bit, but we both know how good a king Arthur is. Perhaps Morgana has given up?”
“Oh, she never gives up,” Merlin said. “There’s something fishy going on. I need to find a way to stop Arthur from throwing the feast.”
“And how exactly are you planning on doing that?” asked Gaius. “Merlin, maybe you should give Arthur a chance. He’s finally settling in as king, and he needs to be rewarded for it.”
“Not if a sinister plot is going on,” Merlin argued. “The Great Dragon said that it is my destiny to protect him, and I intend to do just that.”
***
“So, you’re excuse for me not to throw the banquet is the tavern?” Arthur asked Merlin a little bit later. He and Merlin were standing in the castle’s throne room. Behind them was a stained-glass window, and a table with a few goblets on it.
Merlin sarcastically chuckled. “Uh, I think you heard me wrong. I said I think you’re walking into a trap.”
“Really?” Arthur clearly didn’t believe him. “A feast that I ask for myself is considered a trap?”
Merlin tried to reason with him. “What if Morgana wants this? Think about it, Arthur. She never gives up, yet she has not attacked in two weeks. She’s planning something. I know she is. If she’s going to attack, she’ll do it tonight.”
Arthur crossed his arms and lowered his head. “And this, Merlin, is exactly why we don’t spend so much time in the tavern. Your brain turns all foggy.” He picked up a goblet, threatening Merlin with it. “As king of Camelot, I want the feast to happen tonight. No exceptions.” To get Merlin moving, he bopped his head with the goblet.
“Ow!” he complained. Rubbing his head, Merlin added, “Yes, sire.” He gave him a quick bow before he hustled out of the throne room. He bumped into Guinevere when he did.
A pretty, young woman, she had long brown hair and deep brown eyes. She was another servant in the castle. Gwen had a bundle of sheets in her arms. She noticed Merlin’s upset face and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Arthur, that’s what’s wrong,” Merlin told her.
“Maybe you should let him throw the banquet,” Guinevere said. “Please, Merlin. This is the first time in months I’ve seen him so confident about being king.”
Merlin considered her words. A thoughtful look on his face, he crossed his arms.
***
Arthur thought he was all alone in the throne room, but he really wasn’t. Agravaine was spying on him from behind a wall. An evil smile broke across his face. He was Arthur’s uncle, so he knew he could trust him.
Arthur was adjusting a few goblets on the table. He didn’t notice Agravaine sneaking up on him. That was until he heard his footsteps. Startled, the young king whirled around. In the process, he knocked down at least three goblets. They crashed into the floor and rolled away from him.
“Oh, did I scare you, My Lord?” Agravaine asked.
“Uncle Agravaine.” Seeing him, Arthur calmed down. He cleared his throat and stood tall, like a king should. “What do you want?” he questioned.
“I just can’t help but notice you look stressed,” Agravaine said. “Tell me, my boy. What is it that’s bothering you?”
Sighing, Arthur admitted, “I am the king of Camelot. I have the right to make whatever decisions I want. I don’t think Merlin knows this yet.”
“All men get jealous,” Agravaine said. “Merlin just wishes he were you. You don’t need him to boss you around, sire. After all, he is just a servant.”
“You do have a point.” Arthur nodded his head to show he understood.
Agravaine kept the conversation moving. “Anyway, I told Gaius I was concerned about you.”
“Really?” Arthur gave him a funny look.
“You’re the only family I have, My Lord.” Agravaine continued. “I don’t want you to feel stressed. Gaius asked me to give you something that would hopefully bring your stress level down.”
“What is it?” Arthur questioned.
“A potion.” At these words, Agravaine reached into his cape, pulling out the vial Morgana gave him. “It’s made from a special type of herb and berry, giving it the appearance of wine. Gaius said it will calm you right down.” He held the vial out to Arthur.
He studied it for a few minutes with a thoughtful look on his face. Did he need a stress potion? Yeah, he did. Smiling, he reached forward and took the vial out of Agravaine’s hand. “Thank you.”
“My Lord.” Agravaine bowed. “Gaius said not to take it all at once. We want to keep you de-stressed for the rest of the day.”
“Gaius really has his ways, doesn’t he?” Arthur asked.
“Indeed,” Agravaine said in between clenched teeth. He watched as the young king popped up the potion’s top.
Arthur sniffed it before shrugging. He took a sip from the vial.
While he drank, Agravaine smiled evilly. He quickly lost it when Arthur finished drinking.
“Wow,” he said. “Out of all the potions I’ve taken, that one actually tastes really good.”
Smirking, Agravaine said, “Wonderful. Already your stress is improving. You need to remember to keep taking it.”
“Hey, if it will help me prepare for tonight, it’s all mine.” Arthur laughed. “Thank you again, Agravaine.” With that, he started toward the room’s exit, but he tripped over his own feet. Arthur quickly caught himself by holding out his arms. Looking over his shoulder, he smiled at Agravaine, who smiled back.
Once Arthur was out of the room, Agravaine chuckled menacingly. “Everything is going according to plan,” he whispered to himself. “Soon, Camelot will not have a king, but a drunk peasant who spent the whole day in the tavern.”
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