Guinevere and Grayle sat in an alcove overlooking the gardens, watching from a window seat as Anna and Iseult played hide and seek among the bushes. The Queen studied her nephew carefully in the early morning light. His dark hair partially hid his face, but she could see there was a calmness to him now that had been missing when he had first arrived at Camelot.

The gentle, almost feminine curve of his face was so like her sisters in profile that she lost herself in memories of her childhood for a moment. Reaching out a gentle hand she cupped his chin, lifting his face to look her in the eye. His face was more masculine as she looked him over from the front; the strong jaw, faint scar on one cheek, and finally the dark eyes looking intently back at her.

Grayle clasped her hand in his, bowing his head to kiss the back of it in courtly style. "My Lady," he said, grinning at her.

"Don't you start coming the court dandy with me, nephew." She said firmly and then laughed. "You've suddenly turned into a man it seems. You've found a wonderful woman too."

Grayle blushed and looked out of the window, watching the giggling Anna being tickled into helplessness by Iseult.

"I almost lost her, I'm not sure I can bear the pain of that." The words were spoken softly, but carried a depth of anguish Guinevere found hard to bear. She thought for a moment, taking his hand in hers.

"That is both the problem with, and the joy of, love. It is so powerful that all else pales in comparison. You are lucky to have found someone you feel so strongly for. And yes, I know what happened in the Blackdown Hills.

"You are a lucky man Grayle. You have found a belief that gives you peace, and a love that makes you strong. But love can also be a weakness. Other people can exploit it, and doubt can weaken it. Are you in love?"

"Yes." The reply was instant.

"Then you cannot let that go."

Grayle maintained eye contact with his aunt and nodded. "But what if I lose her?"

"Then you'll have lost her. Would you rather never know? Would you rather suffer for the rest of your life in the knowledge of what might have been?"

"No."

"Then there is your answer." She smiled and changed the subject. "Have you decided what you want to do once your training has finished?"

"Not entirely, no. I have the option to become a Knight for a great house, join my grandfather in Tintagel as one of the Guard, or perhaps join the Church Knights as Bishop David has suggested. I would like to serve God in one way or another, but I am not entirely sure."

"Love is a lot like faith perhaps then. As long as you are pure in heart, true to yourself, and you do what you think is right, then you will serve both your love and your Lord."

Grayle turned away, his face troubled, to gaze out of the window into the distance. "Whatever future I choose, I still lose someone I love: I lose Percival."

"Your father will always be with you, through your own actions. He has trained you, but he has also brought you up as his son. He has done a good job.

"To paraphrase a certain wise old magician: 'yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery. Today? Today is a gift, that's why we call it the present.' Percival has also given you the gift of a future. And you must use it well.

"You will not lose Percival. He will be there for you come what may. He will be losing you though. He trusts and loves very few people in this life; you, Arthur, Mark, maybe a few others. All you can do is make your choice as best you can. Choose what is best for you, everyone will accept and support your choice. You're allowed to be scared."

"And I am. Everything was so certain before. Stay with Percival, get trained, be a Knight....."

"... die in battle, bury your emotions, manage to escape without getting burned again by love?"

He looked back at her sharply as she continued.

"People dying hurts. Your mother's death still hurts me, and that is because I loved her. But you cannot go through life without knowing love or you will end up bitter and lonely like Percival. And before you jump to his defence, yes, I know he's a good man. He loves you, and that is his saving grace. Without you, he would have died years ago in some pointless brawl. Thankfully these days he loves you more than a good fight, although he still enjoys a good brawl. He is a good man, but he has a dark side as you well know."

"Maybe that is what I am afraid of. Without me there, what will he do?"

"That, nephew is something perhaps we will have to work on, but you cannot spend your life worrying about your father."

Tinkling laughter drifted through the windows and Grayle looked out to see Iseult in a fit of giggles with Anna.

"Percival may have given you the gift of the future, but someone else may be able to pass on the gift of love," said Guinevere quietly.

She stood slowly and leaned over to kiss him on the forehead, and briefly rested a supportive hand on his shoulder. A swish of fabric as she moved away left him deep in thought.

~

They met later that day in one of the large rooms off the main hall in the castle. A map of the region lay on the table in front of them, and they had marked the locations of Silbury Hill, the suspected locations of various Saxon war parties, and Mark's progress. As various people arrived, additional information was being added as recent intelligence was assessed.

With the exception of Brekk, the merchant, who had left the group shortly after arriving at Camelot, the surviving members of the group from Exeter were present. Arthur and Guinevere sat at the head of the table, Anna — who Arthur wanted to keep close for a few days after the kidnap attempt — played quietly on the floor with Iseult, and several Round Table Knights had arrived to add their knowledge to the discussions.

Once everyone had settled themselves around the table, Arthur tapped on the wooden surface with a knuckle to get everyone's attention and addressed them without preamble, a friendly tone to his voice.

"Welcome to Camelot," he began. "I have asked you all to meet with us to discuss matters affecting not only the balance of power in the region but also the current mission to Silbury Hill.

"At this moment, King Mark of Kernow, Merlin and a mixed party of miners, soldiers, and aides, are on the way to the mound: in fact they should be arriving shortly. Once they arrive, they will secure the immediate area, build such fortifications as King Mark deems necessary, and begin tunneling into the hill.

"We know Hengist's Saxons are aware of our plans, but to what extent as yet, we are unsure. Our spies have provided us with substantial information about movements and preparations. I suspect that whatever happens, we will at some point end up going head to head with them.

"Morgause is in league with Hengist, and even now plots with him to take Camelot and overthrow the peace we have fought so hard for. She is clever, manipulative, and resourceful. We cannot move against her directly, as she is still married by law to Lot, our ally, who currently guards the northern marches. If we find her in the company of the Saxons however, she will be dealt with, regardless of Lot, or the fact that she is my half-sister. She is a traitor. Traitors to the throne will always be dealt with harshly. Lot is not aware of her deceptions. He along with so many others is smitten by the beauty, without being aware of the rotten heart. She is also mother to his sons, one of whom we have with us today."

He stopped and looked around the table, his eyes coming to rest on the young knight who sat next to Grayle. "I'm sorry nephew; you should not have to hear me talk of your mother in this way."

Gawain inclined his head, acknowledging the apology, but shrugged. "My father may be blind to my mother's indiscretions but sadly my brothers and I are more than aware of her true nature. This is why I am here. You have my pledge and my sword."

"And that is another piece of news ladies and gentlemen. Gornemant has formally resigned his position at the Round Table. He asked me to keep the news quiet until you had reached here, for fear you might try and talk him out of the decision.

"To forestall your next question Percival; yes, I have accepted, and yes, his last mission is to cover Tintagel in your absence.

"Gawain has just finished his training and taken his name with his coming of age. He was trained by Gornemant and will now replace him at the table."

Percival rose from his seat and approached Gawain. As he reached the man's chair, he bowed deeply and held out his hand in welcome.

Gawain rose from his seat and bowed in return before taking Percival's arm in the warrior's grip, hand to wrist.

"Welcome brother," said Percival. "I too was trained by Gornemant."

"I have heard some stories," said Gawain with a slight smile.

"Meat pie?" asked Percival with a sigh.

"No, I've not heard that one."

"King Arthur tells it very well," noted Grayle from behind his father, smiling as Percival stalked back to his seat, grumbling to himself.

"You're starting to sound like Merlin," said Guinevere, smiling at him.

"Oh my lady, please don't tar me with that brush," said Percival. "I suspect it might take a few more years to get that bad."

Arthur laughed softly and formally introduced Gawain to the rest of the table one by one.

Iseult, who had been paying attention to the banter and discussions around the table, had stopped playing. Anna, quickly bored, had wandered off and decided to find something else to play with. She sidled quietly up to Anton, who sat quietly at the side Bishop David, and began playing absently, and unnoticed, with the loose ends of his rope belt.

A few seconds later, there was a small commotion at the end of the table and a small collection of tinkling noises as Anton's purse hit the floor, several coins skittering across the stones. Conversation ceased, with smiles breaking the solemnity of the proceedings as Anton sighed and scrabbled around for his change, a giggling Anna running underneath the table. Grayle felt a gentle thud on his foot and looked down to see his cousin peering at him. She held out her hand and opened it, showing Grayle a large coin.

"Hello trouble," he said smiling. "Thank you," he whispered as she passed him the coin. And she toddled off to hunt for more.

The smile dropped from his face as he looked at the golden disc, and he glanced across the table at Anton, who was still chasing coins around the floor with a giggling Anna. He tapped Percival on the arm and mutely passed him the coin. Percival gave him a quizzical look, visibly paling as he turned it over to reveal the lion and a bull engraved on one side.

Anton, looking worried, sat back at the table, and glanced over to find Grayle and Percival both staring at him.

Percival very deliberately placed the coin on the table with an audible clunk, and then untied his purse from his belt. He reached into it and pulled out an identical coin, which he placed next to its fellow.

Arthur and the others at the table had quietened, aware some drama was being played out. With everybody watching, Percival spoke. "This second coin was taken from one of the Franks who attacked Tintagel castle shortly before we came here."

Arthur reached into a pocket in his tunic and placed a handful of identical coins on the table. "One was taken from a messenger we intercepted some time ago, who was heading east towards Hengist. He carried a note from Morgause. The others were carried by the men who tried to take Anna. Merlin has seen the messenger's coin and thinks it has come from a long-buried Roman hoard somewhere in the Saxon Shore."

Arthur's eyes were boring into the Chaplain's. Anton's face had gone pale, and he made to rise from his seat. Before he could, however, Bishop David had lifted him bodily from his seat by his robes, his fist balled up in the cloth under his chin, his face purple with rage. "You betrayed us? Why?"

"I... she..."

"You're in league with Morgause, you traitorous dog. Why?" Bishop David was shaking the Chaplain hard, the last words roared in anger into his face from mere inches away, Anton's feet lifting off the floor. Abruptly he stopped and threw him back into his chair, leaning over him threateningly.

Anna had run to her mother and was looking on with scared eyes, and Iseult had stood up from the toys on the floor, wide-eyed and pale.

"I hereby strip you of all vestments, lands and privileges bestowed upon you by the Church. You may no longer call yourself Chaplain. May God forgive you your sins."

Bishop David looked at Arthur, anger and shame warring for priority on his features. "I am sorry, My King, I have brought this traitor in here, I have shamed the Church and myself. He is no longer a member of the clergy, and is yours to do with as you please."

David turned back to Anton and spoke quietly into the silence filling the room. "All I ask is why? After all I have done for you, why?"

Anton mumbled something through his tears, sobbing into his chest and then said it again more clearly. "Morgause said she could make Iseult love me, as I love her. All I wanted to do was leave the church and marry."

He stood and turned to the girl. "I just wanted... I am sorry." Head hanging in shame, he trailed off as Arthur motioned for a guard to take him away.

Arthur walked to the shattered looking Bishop and put his arm around the man's shoulders, as Guinevere did the same to the stunned Iseult.

"No-one but Morgause needs to carry any blame for what has happened here today," said Arthur. "She is an incredible schemer, and has more spies, traitors in our midst, and plans afoot than perhaps any of us realise."

He was interrupted from saying any more by a messenger who made his way quietly into the room. He whispered something in Arthur's ear and passed him a piece of parchment as Arthur went pale.

"I'm afraid I have more bad news too. Iseult, please join us."

Arthur motioned to a spare chair next to Grayle, who squeezed her hand in support as she sat down, and then Arthur himself sat heavily in his chair.

Guinevere, sensing her husband's mood, reached over and took his hand, Anna now seated on her lap.

"Arthur?" she questioned softly.

The king passed over the message to his wife who read it swiftly and then bowed her head, tears spilling from her eyes onto the parchment.

"Lancelot is dead," he stated quietly. "He was tortured, beaten, and his throat cut. His body was found in a ditch not far from Silbury Hill."

Arthur looked at Percival. "Are you ready to go, Sir Knight?"

Percival nodded mutely, still stunned by the news as Guinevere broke down sobbing, Anna hugging her fiercely and trying desperately to console her heartbroken mother.

"Then, Sir Knight, you have an additional mission. As well as helping Mark and Merlin with the recovery of the hoard, you will find out who did this and have them brought to justice.

"Gawain, I would like you to accompany Percival. Unfortunately, your first mission as a Knight of the Round Table is one tainted by sadness."

~

Morgause sat, idly flicking a heavy gold coin through her fingers as Hengist paced the room.

"Oeric!" he bellowed, and his eldest son appeared from the corridor leading to the chamber.

"Yes, my King."

"Are all the preparations made? Are the men ready for travel?"

"Yes, my King."

"Good, we will join you momentarily, and then we will make haste to Silbury Hill, destroy Merlin, Mark and their men, and retrieve the Dragon Horde.

"My Lady, you will join us." Hengist held out a hand to Morgause, inviting her to stand.

"I will join you later Hengist, I have things that need to be taken care of."

Hengist leaned forwards, towering over her. "I think you misunderstood, my Lady. You will join us."

Morgause looked at Hengist, her eyes flashing with anger as she drew a thin smile. "As you wish, my King," she replied icily. "But only because it suits my own ends. I am not your Queen yet."

She swept from the chamber, disdaining Hengist's hand to leave him standing on his own in the gloom.

"Why do you tolerate her father?" Oeric moved back into the room from a small adjoining chamber, his face dark with hate for the woman who had just left.

"She is useful, my son. She is full of intrigue, but more importantly, she is full of information. Have you allowed her to bed you yet?"

"No father, I prefer my women a little less acidic."

"I think you should son, let her think she has you under her spell a little, let a few useful pieces of information slip from your lips. She is using us; I see no reason why you should not use her in return."

He smiled wolfishly at Oeric. "You might even find you enjoy yourself."

As Oeric's face darkened further, Hengist laughed at his discomfort and then smiled again. "Don't worry son, we'll burn her for witchcraft once she's outlived her usefulness. I know you enjoy a good fire. Now, let's find your brother and see if we can find someone to fight."

Dressed for battle, Hengist mounted his horse, settled his helmet on his head, and turned in the saddle to look at the men who stood ready behind him, noting with pleasure the slight form of Morgause mounted on a horse next to him. He looked across at Oeric and his younger brother Octa and turned in his saddle to look at the mass of men behind him.

"Death!" he roared.

His men thumped their shields in affirmation and started the battle cry. "Death, death, death...."

As the cry swelled, Hengist nudged his horse with his heels, and the Saxons marched forwards to the rhythm of Arthur's doom.