Jack Whyte - The Sorcer part 1 - The Fort at River's Bend

"But who is it that lays down those rules, in the beginning?" He answered his own question before I could. "The leaders ... " He shook his head. "But what if they don't want to? What if they make no laws, but rule only by strength, and the fear their strength inspires in others? Or what if they use their laws solely to foster their own ends? What then, Merlyn?"

"Then, Arthur, you have a cruel society in which no true laws exist and the people are no more than slaves, living at the mercy of their overlords, for leaders such as you describe surround themselves with heartless, vicious men attracted by the promise of the rewards of anarchy."

"Anarchy?" I knew he was familiar with that term, for we had discussed it less than a month earlier. "But anarchy means lack of leadership, you told us that last week."

"It does, but ask yourself this. If the dominant leader is a lawless brigand, existing for his own pleasure without law of any kind, what else can exist under his power but anarchy? And that brings us back to where this all began. Do you remember where that was?"

"Aye." There was not the slightest hesitation in his voice. "The changes from boyhood to manhood. No honourable man can run and hide when faced with enemies."

"Good lad! Now you see what I meant when I said that."

"I begin to, I think. Men of honour must combine their intellects and talents to defeat those who would trample on the lives of other, weaker folk."

"Aye, that they must, but the truth goes higher than that, Arthur. Men who consider themselves to have honour have, in their very being, a duty to improve themselves, their way of life and living, and to extend those improvements to benefit their fellows. They are the men by whom societies are founded and built."

"You mean men like Great-grandfather Varrus and Caius Britannicus, don't you?"

"Aye, I do, and all the others who helped them to build their Colony at Camulod."

"Camulod is a democracy, isn't it?"

"In the Greek sense, meaning a place where the people govern? No, I would not say that. But the people are free to live in Camulod in freedom from fear. They know no one will dispossess them on a passing whim. They know their wives and husbands and children may safely walk abroad without endangerment. They know no one will coerce them or force them to do anything unjust or demeaning. And there is no king there, no single man whose will is paramount and unrestrained—the Council sees to that. And that, I suppose, makes Camulod something of a democracy."

"Not like here. This is a kingdom."

I smiled at him. "True, but not a bad one."

"Hmm. It has a king."

Something in his tone made me crease my brow. "What's this, then? Do you think Derek of Ravenglass an unjust man, or a bad king?"

"No." His tone was grudging. "But no one in Camulod would have taken the brooch I found away from me, or taken the sword from Ghilly."

"Nor did King Derek, Arthur. He did not take your brooch away."

"No, but it was taken in his name, under his law, and the manner of it was unjust."

"How so? You meaning the giving of it to Kesler? Well, you may be right, but even so, the fault was not King Derek's. What's the matter? Am I wrong?"

Arthur's face had set, in mere moments, into an expression I took for stubbornness. He sat staring at me for a short time and then spoke out, addressing me formally now with that disconcertingly adult directness I had noticed in him several times before, on those infrequent occasions when he had felt strongly enough about something to weigh his options and opinions and had then decided to speak his mind and suffer the consequences.

"One of us is, Commander. The training I have had in logic, from yourself and from Master Lucanus, indicates that one of us is—must be—gravely in error in our basic beliefs in this."

I sat blinking at him, struggling to maintain a noncommittal expression as I waited for him to finish.

"It seems to me that if anyone, and particularly one of King Derek's senior captains, makes a decision, or a judgment on a matter in dispute, and does so in the king's name, then he must do so in the firm belief that the king himself will endorse that judgment and back up the decision. It follows therefore, in logic, that the final responsibility in the matter rests directly with the king, since he permits the use of his name in such things. If he does not, and if he is ignorant about, or indifferent to such a thing, then the use of his name and his authority is really an abuse, and the king is king in name alone. His authority has been taken from him."

I was forced to smile, both in admiration and in delight at the boy's mind, but I sought still to cloak both. "Even if the deed is done without ill will, in the belief that the king's best interests are being served? Longinus is King Derek's loyal follower."

"Yes, and even more so in such a case, for then the subordinate betrays the greatest disrespect and arrogance, in daring to think for the king, as well as speak for him."

The shock of Arthur's words was so great that I found myself on my feet, swinging away from him and moving rapidly to the fireplace, where I crouched with my back to him and busied myself piling fresh, unnecessary logs onto the fire. What a boy this was, and what a mind he had! And what a man he would become in the time ahead. I had to swallow the great lump that swelled in my throat as I battled with the intense emotions that filled my breast: pride, love, admiration and an awed awareness of an intellect more powerful and potent than my own. I felt tears flooding my eyes, and told myself it was the fierce heat of the fire that drew them, and then I realized what I had done, and that the lad was sitting silently behind me, perhaps in fear. I drew a great breath and straightened slowly, turning to face him. He sat gazing at me, his eyes wide and troubled.

"I was too bold. I—"

"No, you were not. You are correct, absolutely and undeniably correct, and I was wrong." I took a step closer to him, clasping my hands behind my back and looking down on him. "Only one thing concerns me, in all you said. Do you know what it is?"

"No ... " His voice had a rising inflection.

"Your judgment condemns Derek as a weak king. Do you truly believe that is the case?"

He looked away from me to gaze into the heart of the fire, and when he spoke again his voice was quiet. "I do not think King Derek is a weak man. His people, the common people, love him, and his sons have no fear of him. But a king must be above all others. By permitting wrongs to be done in his name, even in ignorance, he betrays weakness, undermining himself and endangering his own authority and therefore the safety of his folk ... and if a boy like me can see it, so may anyone else who cares to look."

I sighed and sat down heavily in my chair again, picking up my cup of wine and draining it.

"Weaknesses come in many guises, Arthur, but I fear you are right in this. Pray now that no one else has your insight. So far, Derek's rule here is unchallenged, and it is benevolent. We must hope it remains that way."

Arthur grinned, a boy again. "Well, as a man of honour, it is now your duty to make sure that nothing changes. Commander Merlyn."

"Aye, it is ... though it has taken a mere babe to point that out to me, and I do not thank you for it. Well, have we finished here, or have you more wisdom to impart to me?"

He was grinning still. "No, we have finished. Thank you for listening to me, Merlyn."

"You have barely left me opportunity to speak—what other choice was open to me? Now what are you thinking in that mighty mind of yours?"

"Merlyn, will I ever be a leader?"

"You know you will. You will command the men of Camulod, at least, and those of Cambria, your father's kingdom. But why do you ask that now?"