FROM KING ARTHUR

My dear friend and knight, Lancelot,

I could have addressed this to 'My dear brother,' and I do not think that would have been wrong, for certainly we have been closer than siblings.

I intend no disrespect to Sir Cai, who has been as faithful and true as any at my Round Table, yet though he and I were brought up as brothers, still I feel closer to you than to any man alive, save Merlin, and who knows whether Merlin truly lives in the realms of Man, or is of the Faerie, as many claim.

It ill-behoves me as a King to write these words, yet as a man and a friend, I could no more desist from writing them than I could desist from breathing the fair sweet air of our beloved Camelot.

It is, of course, thoughts of our darling Guinevere that brought me to this pass.  As your King, I could order that you keep away from my Queen, but that order would have to include you keeping away from me, and I would not lose your love, for I know well that you love me as you love her, and as I love you both.  Oh, a pox on the laws of Man, that mean I would have to lose the company of one whom I love, be it you or Guinevere.

I know that she too is torn, that she loves me and she loves you in equal portions.  Why cannot we three exist in harmony?  Why should we have to conform to rules not meant for men such as we?  Yet Mordred would make his bid for the crown on the bones of our friendship.  I banish, or he denounces!  Oh Lancelot, Lancelot, it grieves me to utter the words of banishment, indeed I cannot; yet, as thy dear friend, I beg of you to renounce the sole company of Guinevere, only entering her presence in the company of others.  That way, Mordred could not gather any evidence of your so-called treason.  Or hers!

As your King, I would have your company and hers, yet as your friend and her husband, I would grieve to see you daily longing for each other, to watch your eyes meet with the bitter-sweet savour of if only.  Yet I selfishly request that this is how you spend your lives. 

I bethought me to banish Merlin to the Isle of Avalon when he told me of some fancy he had of a time far in the future that he remembered, when three caught in the same trap as ours could honourably live out their lives TOGETHER without talk of treason or heresy.  I did not know whether to believe him, but dear God, he made me wish for the impossible with an intensity so strong I felt quite weakened.  Not too weak however, to bid him take his leisure in the forest until my anger cooled!

So do this, my dear Lancelot, for me, for her, and for yourself.  You have been her champion for so long that eyebrows would be raised if I deprived you of that honour, yet exercise discretion in your dealings with her, so that none may point the finger at thee.  Thus I may continue to love you both, her as my wife, my adviser, my comfort, my Queen, you as my friend, my companion, my knight and my brother.

May God bless you and keep you safe from all harm.

Arthur

FROM GUINEVERE

Lancelot, my dearest,

I cannot believe how foolhardy I am, addressing you in this manner on paper, and you must burn this letter immediately, yet I cannot imagine you are unaware that Arthur has heard unjust accusations from Mordred about you and I, we two, US!

Though we have quite properly been thrown together since Arthur appointed you the Queen's Champion, it is the times that we have found for each other that I treasure the most, apart from the pomp of the tournaments and the court functions.  Oh, those thousand occasions where I can not hold your hand for fear of prying eyes, where I must veil my own eyes, lest others read their message, where every word must be measured lest enemies read their true meaning.

How precious to me the memories of the lakeside tryst, the eternal mists from the Isle of Avalon hiding our chaste embraces from the eyes of all, the fleeting moments in the forest glades.  Remember Lancelot, when you took me to see the lane where you first met Arthur, the brook where you first met me, the sheltered barn where you first assisted me onto my horse, and I felt your touch burn me?  Remember the quarrel you had with Sir Pellinore to determine who had the right to chaperone me to the Spring Fair when Arthur was visiting Avalon with the sorcerer Merlin?

How can I ever forget the shake in your dear voice when you first spoke of your love to me, and railed at the fate that had me married to your dearest friend?  You vowed then that no matter how much you loved me you would never betray Arthur, and the sweet saints witness it, you have never broken your vow, save in stolen kisses.

I love you and respect you for your resolve, your loyalty, yet now that they are in question throughout Camelot, I find myself regretting that vow.

We, the innocent, are the victims of Mordred's vaunting ambition, and though Arthur has not questioned me, he knows, he knows!  How I wish now that we were guilty of those accusations!  I know, I love Arthur too, and always will, and would not have him hurt, yet he is being hurt though the cause be truly absent, so let him be hurt for a reason!

Oh, Lancelot, Lancelot, suddenly I hate your purity, your honour, that will not allow you to take me to your bed (I blush as I read these words, but they are said, and I will not unsay them).  Sometimes, when I lie in Arthur's arms, I close my eyes, and they become your arms.  I cry his name in the night, and long to cry yours.

I had a dream last night, my love.  I dreamed that I was lying abed between you and Arthur, with both your arms holding me, and with deep joy coursing through the three of us.  I awoke alone, and wept bitter tears for such a lovely, impossible vision.  I fear I may be losing my mind, but how I wish I could enter that dream state and never leave it.

Lancelot, my beloved, I feel that if we could lie together but the once, I could bear whatever has to be.  It would mean so much to me, if we were to be separated.  Arthur has taken Mordred with him on his visit to Sir Gawain's castle, so we are safe from his evil machinations.

Please, Lancelot, come to me tonight so that I can love you as I was born to do.  Do not let your honour get in the way.  We are not taking anything from Arthur, I will not love him the less for loving you the more.  Please, Lancelot, please.  Tonight may be all that we ever have, and I would gain strength for what is to come.  Please, on your love for me, give me what I need, a memory to carry into my old age!

Do not refuse me, for to do so would be to emulate Mordred's cruelty.  I shall dismiss my attendants at sunset, and await one whom I love dearly,

Your devoted Guinevere.

FROM MERLIN

Sir Lancelot Du Lac,

As you will not be familiar with this hand, I will introduce myself to you.  I am the Merlin, tutor to Arthur, King of all Britain. 

You are aware of course that I am joint advisor with the Queen Guinevere to the King, and put his welfare as King before all else.  Now I see that your conduct with the Queen is putting his welfare as King and as a man in jeopardy.

I have no wish to moralise, or even to express an opinion as to whether the rumours of your conduct bear truth or not.  These rumours exist, and, wielded by an ambitious man who feels that the rank of High King should be his, have put the Crown at risk.  Mordred has lost no opportunity to pour his poison into Arthur's ears, and though Arthur denies that you and the Queen are intimate, there is every chance that you and she will be called to account.  With a charge of treason against his wife and his trusted friend, how long could Arthur claim fitness to rule?

If you care for your King, and I have no reason to doubt your devotion, apart from your feeble attempts to hide your yearning looks for his Queen, and hers for you, then you will sacrifice your seat at the Round Table, and return to France, or at least go to some outlying part of the Kingdom, where you could still serve your King.

You must remove yourself from the Queen Guinevere's presence if scandal is to be avoided, and the throne to be saved.  While you are preparing to depart, be sure not to spend time alone with the Queen, as that is a vulnerable time, when your enemies would be ready to make much of a farewell kiss, however innocent.

I know you will bring forth the question of my ability to remember the future.  It is not all an open book to me, as much of it is shrouded in mystery, with paths branching off at every step.  Memory too, even mine, is fallible.  Can you remember what you had for supper 5 years ago today?  Yet I do know that disaster is all that can come of your love for the Queen, whatever form that love may take.  It may already be too late, but your leaving at once could possibly reduce the scope of that disaster, so that Arthur may yet salvage his throne, maybe even the life of his Queen.

If you love them both, go now.

Merlin.