“You could banish him after you cripple him,” King Bors said after a few moments of silence.
Sir Bodwain exhaled loudly. “King Arthur banishing Ywain will be of no consequence to Urien, who does not see Arthur as the King of Britain which is why he is our enemy. If he does not see Arthur as King he will not recognize his decrees.”
“Let’s hear your idea then,” King Bors snorted, stirring coals with his stick.
“Arthur,” Merlin interrupted. “What do you think?”
Britt hesitated before she withdrew from her chair, restlessly pacing. “I think the greatest coup would be if we could convince Ywain to join our ranks.”
“What?” King Bors said, dropping his flaming stick.
“Impossible,” Sir Ulfius said.
“It’s a grand idea, but it would never work,” King Ban said with a magnanimous smile.
“I want to hear his reasoning. Why would that be the best outcome, Arthur?” Merlin asked, leaning forward in interest.
“What would horrify Urien more than his own son following the upstart king?” Britt asked.
“True, true,” King Bors boomed.
“If one could do it, it would be the best path,” Sir Kay said, finally speaking.
“It would take a kind of charm mortal men don’t have,” King Ban said, shaking his head.
Britt turned to face King Ban and smiled—not her politician/Arthur smile, but her usual smile. “Exactly,” she said.
King Ban blushed and looked away and King Bors whistled. “You’re going to try and charm him with your faerie blood then? Good luck, if you can manage won’t Urien be a sight to see,” he laughed.
“Do you think you can do it?”Merlin asked, his expression of interest hadn’t changed.
“I would like to try,” Britt said.
“Try, then,” Merlin nodded. “I too am interested in the results—if there are any. Go on, what are you waiting for?”
“You mean start now?”
“Of course. We march on Lot in three days. You have that long to change young Ywain’s mind. Good luck.”
Britt was almost booted from the circle and was bodily escorted to Ywain—who was currently in Sir Bedivere’s keeping.
“Ywain,” Britt said, drawing near to the stake the boy was tied to.
“Beardless upstart,” Ywain spat.
Britt tipped her head and narrowed her eyes at Ywain—who sported not even a hint of a beard. “I’m not certain you should mock me based on my lack of facial hair or physical features. That might come back to bite you,” she said. “After all I could point out how you are also lacking in that department, or that in spite of you being older than me I am still a great deal taller than you.”
“You aren’t a great deal taller, just a little bit,” Ywain grumbled.
Britt shook her head in amusement.
“What do you want?” Ywain sullenly asked, sinking his neck into his body.
Britt turned to look out at her camp and thought. What could she say to this stubborn boy to change his mind? What was it about King Arthur –the legend, the real one—that made knights rally behind him? “Tell me, Ywain. What is your greatest dream?”
“I will never share. That enchanter of yours will use it against me!” Ywain said.
“My greatest dream and hope is impossible. It can never be achieved,” Britt said, hopelessness sinking into her voice. “That is why I have another dream.”
“To rule over all of Britain?” Ywain snorted. “That is fair impossible.”
“No,” Britt said, turning on her heels. “I wish to make a court of knights that fight for what is right. I don’t want to rule over a kingdom that is concerned with surviving, I want to forge one that flourishes and is peaceful. Knights aren’t out in wars all the time, but traveling and doing good deeds. Protecting the innocent.”
Ywain was quiet for a few moments. “That’s foolish talk,” he said, but his words had no bite to them.
“Perhaps, but it is still my goal,” Britt said, turning to face him as she warmed up to the subject as she thought of Arthurian lore. “I want a place where all of my knights can come and be equals. A place where they can share the good they have done and be honored for it. I want people near and far to talk of Camelot, not because of its great military strength but because its courts are justly ruled.”
Ywain shook his head. “It can’t be done. No one can hold peace like that in the land. Not even Uther Pendragon.”
“It has been my experience that no one can achieve a task unless they try first,” Britt smiled. “Have many others tried?”
Ywain looked away briefly. “If that’s your possible dream, what’s your impossible one?” he asked eventually.
Britt lost her smile and looked down at Excalibur. “It’s not worth dwelling on.”
“What are you going to do with me? Try to get me to talk about my father’s plans? I won’t say a word. Not ever!” Ywain angrily said after a few moments of silence.
“I agree,” Britt said. “And I don’t really know what we’re going to do with you, but we won’t kill you.”
“Not yet,” Ywain bitterly said.