You are back! and I am grateful, for though I would fain tell this tale to an empty room, with an audience I am less likely to be accused of madness. – No, dear girl, I am not mad. And nor is that gentlemen, despite all appearances. – Well! to the newcomers, welcome; I have not time for introductions, but I am sure that you will soon settle in.

Indeed, I do believe I must clarify a few things before I begin... One of our merry guests last time round asked why Merlin had trouble comprehending the scroll and Arthur didn't: but nowhere did I hint that Arthur understood the scroll without the expert help of Geoffrey, who went through the entire thing with him before Merlin laid eyes on it, which I do believe was clarified. And to the guest who questioned why there were food shortages in a booming kingdom, I say only: no matter how good your economy, you will not be able to persuade an orchard to fruit in the dead of winter.

I say! is that the time? I had best start, or I shall not say all I want to before you all grow tired and leave.

Arthur's temperament was much improved the following day: that was the first thing that Merlin observed when, having got little out of Gaius ('Arthur will tell you'), he arrived more eagerly than usual at the king's quarters. He had expected to find his master fully dressed and ready to fling himself out of the door; instead he found him lazily shuffling out of bed, in no evident hurry.

'Changed your mind?' Merlin asked.

'What? – No, not at all. – Well, maybe about how urgent everything was,' Arthur considered, meandering over to his wardrobe. 'Get my regalia ready, would you? We have an important meeting this morning. But not before I've had a decent breakfast and time to think.'

'I presume we're still going on this Quest,' Merlin persisted.

'Oh! yes. But it will need thought. And planning. And given that the Grail's been out of Camelot for so long... a few days can't hurt.'

'You've seen sense.' Merlin grinned, knowing that Geoffrey and Gaius's argument had probably been the same as his had been the previous morning. 'What do you want for breakfast?'

'Preferably not bread and cheese.'

'I'll see what they have.'

After a breakfast that, though sparse, was not commented upon, Arthur pulled out a familiar-looking scroll and a pile of maps. 'The meeting this morning will be between a very select group of people. This is still a matter of the utmost secrecy outside of that circle. Understood?'

Merlin nodded.

'You will be coming along in your capacity as my servant, and because you will obviously be accompanying me, if we confirm that this Quest is necessary.'

'Obviously,' Merlin said, smirking a little. Arthur frowned at him. 'You still won't admit that you can't do anything without me,' he continued, after a moment.

'It isn't the done thing for a king to do his own cooking and prepare his own horse,' Arthur countered. 'And given the circumstances of the potential journey, it may well be that you are the only servant present for five or six men.'

Merlin groaned good-naturedly, and, as Arthur pulled on his clothes, he scurried down to the kitchens to find what was going in terms of breakfast materials. He came back with bread and cheese, as he had expected, and a small bit of news that had seemed rather concerning.

'You know Philippa in the kitchens?' he said, setting a sparse plate before the now-dressed king.

'Which one's she?' Arthur said; then, reconsidering – it didn't seem right for a king not to recognise his own subjects – 'She's the new one, right?'

'Small, dark hair, quite pretty –' Merlin waved a hand vaguely. 'Anyway... she seems to know something about this whole affair, despite you saying you've kept it secret.'

'What does she know?' said Arthur at once.

'I don't know... probably not much. But still,' said Merlin after a moment, 'she said that you probably needed to get your strength up, for such an important meeting.'

'How the hell does she know about the meeting?' cried Arthur. Merlin did not mention that Arthur's very loud voice probably didn't help. 'I haven't even told the knights about it yet.' He looked at Merlin out of the corner of his eye. 'Unless you've been blabbing –'

'I didn't know about the meeting until I came here this morning!' protested Merlin.

'No, you didn't,' considered Arthur, in a dissatisfied sort of manner.

'Maybe she just guessed,' Merlin said, lamely.

'Impossible.'

'She probably doesn't know anything about the content of the meeting.'

'That's a risk we can't afford to take.' Arthur pushed the rest of his bread into his mouth, choked a bit, and stood. 'I'm going down to the kitchens. That girl needs questioning before she blabs to the entire servant population of the castle.'

'Servants don't blab,' said Merlin at once: 'we're good at keeping secrets.'

Arthur just smirked a little, with a very pointed glance in Merlin's direction, and indicated for his servant to follow him.

The castle kitchens were one of the most charming among Camelot's hidden jewels: or so the servants thought so, anyway. It was full of cheer at all times of day – and full of the smell of bread baking and meat roasting, which is if anything better. The royal quarters, the knights' rooms, they all seemed dull in comparison: no, if you wanted to see the spirit of the castle, you had to come down here, hear the chatter, see hands working faster than you can think, countless pots on counters, over fires, carted by well-trained hands; the incessant comings and goings, every trip for a different purpose; here was where all of the arteries met.

It was rare that people more important than a servant came down here, and so, as Arthur entered, there was quite a stir among the cooks and the serving-girls. They redoubled the effort they were putting into their work, brushed a blanket of flour from the front of their aprons; at length, when word had travelled the length of the kitchen, the volume of chatter lowered noticeably, and the nearest cook to the king bowed before him and asked if she might be able to help him.

'I'm looking for Philippa,' he said.

His eyes flicked about the room, conscious of the attention he was drawing, wishing he could just have a normal conversation for once in his life.

'Ooh,' the young woman said, thinking a moment: 'ah, yes, Philippa... She took up Sir Edgar's breakfast, if I'm not mistaken.'

'Thank you,' replied Arthur, and turned to go.

'Sire,' said the woman suddenly.

He looked back at her, and she lowered her voice.

'Between you and me, sire... She's a strange one, that Philippa. Too curious, if you know what I mean. I should keep an eye on her. I certainly have been doing.'

Arthur raised an eyebrow, nodded and thanked her; then, not quite knowing what to say, he bade a half-hearted goodbye to the kitchen-maids and left, with Merlin at his heels.

'Have you noticed anything strange about Philippa?' Arthur asked at once, when they were on their way again.

'I hardly know her,' Merlin replied: 'she's very new.'

'What do you suppose she meant by strange?' Arthur persisted.

Merlin shrugged. 'Plenty of people are strange. Sometimes that's a good thing.'

'This didn't seem like the good sort of strange.' Arthur lowered his voice, glancing about the corridor, which was empty. 'And if she knows about the meeting...'

Merlin didn't have an answer, and voiced this; they continued walking in an awkward silence, and at length came to Sir Edgar's quarters. Arthur knocked, rather too loudly: and, after being invited in, startled through his appearance the poor knight within, who had only just got out of bed.

'I'm looking for one of the kitchen-maids – Philippa,' said Arthur. 'Apparently she was bringing you your breakfast.'

'You've just missed her,' Edgar replied, pointing to his table, on which a plate of food had been set.

'But we've just –' Arthur exchanged glances with Merlin. 'Did she say she was going anywhere else?'

'Only back to the kitchens, sire.'

Arthur groaned, and thanked Edgar without particularly meaning it; then he and Merlin left the room, and went once more on the trail of this mysterious servant-girl who, Merlin thought, was probably innocent, and merely careless; he wondered if they would spend the whole morning chasing her all over the castle; but Arthur couldn't be stopped when he had an idea occupying his mind, and so his servant scurried after him without saying a word.

It was nearly time for the secret meeting by the time they returned to Arthur's chambers. Philippa had managed to elude them during their entire search, purely by doing her job efficiently; Merlin had at last managed to persuade the king to leave the matter for the moment – 'I doubt she knows anything important' – and to go and prepare for the more pressing item on the agenda.

Therefore, once Arthur had dressed himself in his regalia, and Merlin had been loaded up with all of the auspicious scrolls from the previous day, they made their way over to the Great Hall, which, when they entered, was already occupied by a number of men. The usual smattering of servants and nobles was absent; the only people there were Geoffrey of Monmouth, Gaius, and the four baffled knights that Arthur had selected without quite telling them what was going on.

They all looked up at the king's entrance; the latter dismissed the guards at the doors, which he closed and bolted. Merlin was asked to check the side-doors, and close them as well, which he duly did, before taking his place behind the chair at the top of the table, and setting down the papers he was carrying. Then Arthur crossed the room and sat down.

'Gentlemen, thank you for coming in good time,' Arthur said after a moment. 'There is much to discuss. Geoffrey and Gaius – you, of course, are aware of the issue at hand. The rest of you will be informed in due course. This meeting is to discuss an extremely important matter which may impact the future of Camelot; it is a difficult problem that faces us, and I turn to you to aid me in my solution. Perhaps it will not require something so radical as a quest –' he hung on the word; Merlin noticed that both Geoffrey and Gaius exchanged weary glances, while the knights' eyes twinkled rather '– but should it come to that, I know I have chosen men upon whom I can rely when the time comes.'

He was stalling, and he was well aware of that fact; with a glance towards Merlin, to which Merlin responded with a somewhat impatient raised eyebrow, he pulled out the first of the scrolls, the one that featured the prophecy.

'Yesterday, Geoffrey of Monmouth found this scroll in the Hall of Records. He as well as the rest of us was unaware of its presence and of its contents; according to Gaius, it seems to be the origins of an old legend that has made its way into fairy-story; however, without knowing the origins of the document, it is difficult to know what is truth and what is invention. I am going to ask Geoffrey to read in translation the second and final paragraphs.'

And Geoffrey did; in his quavering voice, which entirely suited the mystery, he informed the knights of the prophecy, the Grail, and the apparent doom which faced Camelot, if nothing was done to restore the artefact to the city. As was to be expected, the reading was followed by widespread bewilderment.

Arthur thanked Geoffrey, and took back the scroll; then he pulled out a sheet of vellum, and pointed out a scrawled paragraph near the bottom, which his audience couldn't read from that distance; and so, paraphrasing, he said:

'After much searching, we have managed to locate a fragment that hints at the location of the Grail. According to this document, it is in the Frankish kingdoms, in the hands of a witch called Viviane. The name Viviane is not unique to this document. She is associated with Brocéliande Forest, which, being in the far north-west of the mainland continent, is not a huge distance from here, and should be reachable within a few weeks at the most. Even if the Grail is not in the forest, it seems that our best hope would be to find Viviane and question her about it.'

'What do you hope to get out of a witch?' asked Leon. 'Even if she isn't in possession of the Grail, she may well be powerful.'

'This is why I have called this meeting,' said Arthur: 'it is to be decided if we will go at all; and then there are the particulars to discuss. I have a few ideas myself but I'd like to hear others' opinions on the matter.'

Merlin raised his eyebrow in a gesture that everyone except Arthur saw, indicating that Arthur did not in fact have any ideas of his own, or at least none of any consequence; Gwaine stifled a laugh, and smiles flickered on a couple of the others' faces.

But Arthur's request went at first without response: the knights were still reeling a little from the strangeness of the story they had just heard, and hardly in a position to think straight. Yet they thought, and Arthur waited; and at last Gwaine said, a little haphazardly:

'I say we go. We haven't got anything to lose, if we're careful.'

There was a murmur of vague agreement around the table.

'We've been on difficult expeditions before,' he continued: 'and it's not like we haven't faced magicians before.'

'It's our duty to Camelot,' added Elyan, thinking. 'I'm with Arthur. I think there's a possibility that there's some truth in the matter. It's worth stopping the threat, if there is one.'

'That's sorted, then,' said Arthur, too quickly, breaking the illusion that there had ever been any democracy. 'Now: I don't expect Geoffrey and Gaius to come with us – unless they want to,' he said, trying to joke; Gaius however replied:

'I would, sire, if the journey weren't so far; I would only hinder you.'

Arthur waved a hand vaguely. 'I don't doubt your loyalty. However, the cover I have created is a minor official visit to Deira. That will explain my own absence; Merlin of course will have to come –'

Gwaine and Percival exchanged amused glances; Arthur looked from one to the other for a second, uncomprehending, and then continued:

'And, in effect, I have already chosen my knights, for it is you who are at this meeting whom I invite to come. If you do not wish to, that is your choice and I respect it.'

'Oh! I'm not missing this,' said Gwaine at once.

'I will come,' said Leon, and Percival and Elyan nodded.

'My worry is that it won't be enough people,' said Arthur, 'but at the same time, I don't want us to be an obvious company. And this witch Viviane will feel less threatened by a smaller group, and hopefully will not see us as a threat. What do you think?'

'I think you're taking a good many risks,' put in Gaius: 'but I do see your reasoning.'

'I doubt this Viviane will have an army behind her,' said Percival.

'Very well,' said Arthur: 'that, too, is settled.'

It seemed to Merlin that everything was going too quickly, but that was Arthur, when he was fixated on something; Merlin's only relief in times such as these was his own magic, which, though he didn't like to boast, he knew would be protection enough, if he should need to use it. It was perhaps his use of magic in previous expeditions that gave Arthur the impression that they were a singularly formidable little band, stronger than anyone they came up against.

The discussion moved to more generic matters, like how much to pack, and which routes they would take; at last there came the question of when to depart, to which Arthur's unpopular response was 'tomorrow morning'.

'That's going to look suspicious,' said Merlin. 'At least put out the Deira story first.'

'You're right,' considered Arthur, rubbing his temple. He didn't want to admit that the threat to the kingdom was really getting to him; he wanted to act at once; he felt as if he was already too late. 'I'll put out the story at once; then in two days we must be ready to depart.'

The meeting was as good as over; a lot seemed to have been decided, but in truth Arthur had already decided everything beforehand, and everyone had just agreed to it, as everyone was wont to do. These were, after all, knights of Camelot: bold, brave and a little overly patriotic. Merlin was a little more reticent, but his opinion didn't tend to count for much, so he just smiled, and began in his head to go over the spells he thought would be most useful. He wondered what Viviane was capable of; he was sure she couldn't be more talented in magic than he was, but there was always that chance, despite what Kilgharrah had always said about him being the greatest magician who had ever lived.

So he smiled; and everyone went over the plans once more, quickly; and when they stood up to leave, it was with a certain optimism, a certain courage in their hearts: their mission would be interesting, at the least, and a distraction from the growing boredom. Perhaps they had all forgotten the implications of the Grail – that magic in some form would be returned to Camelot. No, it seemed that their mission was to disprove a fairy-story, or find some easier solution, and that they would be finished in a few weeks, and all would be well.

It was however when Merlin and Arthur were returning through the corridors that they were approached by one of the kitchen-servants: it transpired that the maid Philippa had last been seen heading towards the Great Hall, but for half an hour had been nowhere to be found.

Oh! Gods, is that the time? Well! We certainly leave Camelot in a predicament and a half, but I assure you that the threads will all be tied up. Well, mostly. Perhaps. – No, my dear girl, I am not making it up as I go along. You are becoming tiresome. – Leastways, I hope I shall see you all back again when I next continue this tale. Yes, even you.