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“They might have been anything to one another. Anything at all. And before Arthur, they had the freedom to be,” was all she said.
Acolytes were supposed to be celibate. That did not mean they did not still have hearts, did not fall in love.
“Why had they not been conscripted yet? I would have thought that Arthur would be taking every single young man that he could.”
“Oh, he is,” Merlin said bitterly. “Young women, too. Some have joined on their own, of course, believing the king’s propaganda. Convinced this is somehow a just war—or at least a way to protect their families and their kingdom. But you’re right. Many have been conscripted against their will. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before they come for Galahad. Sir Ector is no longer trusted in court. I’ve wondered...” She bit her lip.
“Yes?” I prodded.
“I’ve wondered if he is bribing officials,” Merlin admitted. “To keep Galahad safe.”
“He would know the right ones, I suppose,” I said, thinking of Sir Ector reduced to paying bribes to keep his only son from the front lines. If that was what he was doing, I was shocked it had worked this long.
I shook my head. “Merlin, I’ll do what you suggested. I’ll spy on Arthur for you. For all of you. Just tell me what needs to be done. How to go about it.” I hesitated, then gritted my teeth. “And if I have to take Caspar’s potion again, so be it. I’ll do it.”
“I knew you’d say that,” Merlin said softly. She touched my cheek. “My dear girl. If only things could have stayed the course. I would have been happy knowing you would have been High Priestess someday after me.”
I grasped her hand with my own, and said, very gently, “But, Merlin, my brother would have still been king.”
She lowered her eyes. “That is very true.” She sighed. “I suppose it has always been coming. We cannot hide from our fate.” She smiled slightly. “After all these years, I should know better than to even try.”
She walked me back to my room, her hand on my arm.
CHAPTER 12 - DRAVEN
The cerulean wavesstretched as far as the eye could see as the warship cut through the salty breeze. The rhythmic creaking of the ships' rigging and the shouts of sailors as they worked in tandem to adjust the sails had become a soothing background noise by this point in the voyage.
We were halfway across the Kastra Ocean.
But there was still a long way to go before I was back by my wife’s side.
I leaned forward against the rails as a burst of spray splattered the deck around me. Licking my lips, I tasted the ocean brine.
Sea life agreed with me. I had made this voyage once before, but under very different circumstances.
A figure rushed past me as the ship heaved, reaching the rail just in time to heave up the contents of their stomach.
