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Gundleus was meant to be taking
a stand against his uncle,
- instead he came and slayed us. - Die!
There will be no more blood spilt today.
I need my revenge.
You know I would do anything for you.
Gundleus must die.
Run!
Vengeance is the way of things.
What are you doing?
I'm coming for both of you.
When you close your eyes, see me.
Gorfydd is fortifying his border towns.
- Now making weapons. - Uther dies,
and Gorfydd makes his move.
Cadwys, we'll have to get their support.
Cadwys has paid no tax for years.
I just don't want to betray Arthur.
It's time for something new.
Persuade your uncle to come to Mordred's naming ceremony.
Ladwys stays. And if you don't return
with Gorfydd, I'll kill her.
You didn't even consult us!
Just doing it your way, hmm?
- As you always have. - Where are you going?
Tax collection from Cadwys.
He's a cunning bastard, that one.
You're my man now.
He's broken his bond with the gods.
Your plan better work, brother...
or we're all lost.
People are questioning
the wisdom in releasing Gundleus.
They think I'm a gullible fool.
Apart from the ones who just think
you're stark raving mad.
Three weeks have passed and Gundleus has not returned.
We're playing the long game, Sag.
Gorfydd is the real prize.
But Ladwys, she's my leverage.
We lose her...
we lose Gundleus.
We lose Gorfydd.
We lose.
I heard a rumor.
I heard that I'm very important to you.
The thin thread by which all your plans hang.
Not you.
The love Gundleus holds for you.
That's a rather fine distinction.
If there's nothing else?
They say you are wise beyond your years.
More rumors, I'm afraid.
Clearly, why else would you treat
something of value so neglectfully?
You're in the women's chamber,
we'll put you in the cellar if you'd rather.
As much as he loves me,
I love him more.
I can sense his presence.
His absence.
What does that tell you, wise man?
You tell me.
You set him free because you want something in return.
Bigger prize.
I won't see him brought low for love
or betray his better self.
I'll never be a throw piece in your dirty little trade.
Sag!
This madness has to stop, Arthur.
How much longer are you going to wait?
If she was serious, she'd be dead.
I underestimated her.
It's a good haul, all told.
Aye, not bad.
Double that lot next time.
Smashing.
Come on, Derfel.
Chop, chop.
Let me show you how it's done.
Whoa! Careful!
- You be careful! - Hey, hey, hey, Raince!
- Bup, bup, bup, bup. - Thank you, my Lord,
but I don't need my battles fought.
Brutes like him are as familiar to me as my own farts,
the downside of having a brain.
All right, well, tell me this...
how long since Cadwys paid his tax?
Cadwys, Cadwys, Cadwys, Cadwys, oh, five years.
Sounds about right. And what did he manage them?
Twenty hides, 40 fleeces, three slaves,
tin ingots, dried fish, salt and milled corn.
All right. Raince?
Here's what we'll do. Send a message on to Cadwys.
Let him know We'll be arriving tomorrow.
My Lord, we'll be there today.
Exactly. Give them a bit of time to move their gold.
Go on ahead and tell Cadwys we'll be there tomorrow.
My Lord.
And we'll be watching?
Yeah.
Oh, you've got a rare head
on your shoulders, you have, lad.
Don't ever lose that.
We've started as we mean to go on here.
Let's go take what's ours!
- What did he say? - Nothing.
Tell me.
He said that I've got a rare head on my shoulders.
Hmm. He's right.
And a handsome one, too.
Why are we here?
I thought our mother might know what to do.
Is she still here?
I'd be very surprised if she isn't.
Do you visit her grave often?
Never.
She used to sit right there...
and as she worked,
flattening a blade,
forging a spear...
she'd tell us stories, like Excalibur.
Remember that one?
Sacred sword passed down the generations.
She said it would call out
to its rightful owner like a beacon.
But those who looked for Excalibur never found it.
And denied of it, they would insist loudly
that no such sword ever existed.
You do remember.
She never told you that story, Arthur.
I did.
She never told you any stories.
You didn't know her.
She was the most beautiful...
clever...
and wonderful mother a boy could wish for.
She was certainly beautiful and clever.
You know, you were frightened of her.
- Frightened? - Because she blamed you
for everything.
Most of all, for Uther rejecting her.
"King's dote on their bastard daughters," she'd say,
"but they fear their bastard sons."
And so you strove to be the best at everything.
Reading and riding and swordsmanship.
Nothing you did gave her pleasure.
And even then you worshipped her...
defended her and...
wept for a week when she died.
Perhaps you're right.
Perhaps she never told me stories,
never loved me...
but when I needed her...
when I truly needed her, she was there.
She knew me...
Saw me...
my essence.
And whatever that was...
she valued it...
prized it as special.
Was it love?
I don't know.
But it was enough.
It centered me.
Mother always said she'd make me a sword.
Someone will be glad of it.
What is this place?
An old Roman villa we let Cadwys and his folk live in.
Ey up, lad. Let's move in.
Here comes our messenger.
Who is this?
What do you want? Who sent you?
I have a message from Lord Owain.
Which one's Cadwys?
The one doing all the talking.
Lord Owain will be here tomorrow,
to collect the taxes.
Right. Let's see if he takes the bait.
Ha.
- Nimue. - Merlin.
I can hear the gods again.
They won't answer me.
Your anger is drowning them out.
Give it time.
What are we gonna do?
I'll head to Caer Cadarn first thing.
Speak to Arthur.
You'll be wasting your breath.
Don't judge him too harshly.
He's one of the few who sees what's coming.
Everything good will get bad.
Everything bad will get worse.
Sometimes I think the gods are playing with us.
Heaping all the throw-pieces to see how the game will end.
Sparing Gundleus doesn't speak of strength.
Speaks of weakness... cowardice.
We're going to be tested like never before.
And cowardice offends the gods.
Kings, horses and breastplates
won't stem the tide...
Sacrifices will have to be made.
The day is coming when the gods must be persuaded to help.
But that will not be easy.
How will you persuade them?
How will we persuade them, Nimue.
How will we persuade them.
I told you...
you will be the most powerful druid
the isle has ever known.
That is your fate.
But between now and then, you will be tested greatly.
Are you ready for that?
- I think so. - Hmm.
I've endured my own trials, and I'm still here.
Look.
Let's go here. Come on, come on.
Right. Bring it out.
Come on.
Ey up.
Make sure they haven't left anything.
Derfel.
Follow him.
Come on, move it!
Bring it all.
Move! Come on!
It can't be.
Merlin?
What are you doing here?
Making sure all's well.
Power hasn't gone to your head.
You still sleeping under the stars?
- Where else? - Even when we were guests at Ban's palace,
we still slept under the bloody stars.
Connects us to the Earth.
It connects you to a painful ass.
I heard about Gundleus.
I'm sure you know what you're doing.
We have to bring Gorfydd into the fold.
Sparing Gundleus is a high price.
But one worth paying.
Nimue would disagree.
And that pains me greatly.
But Mordred's naming ceremony
is a chance that we cannot squander.
That's why I brought you back.
Now you must make them submit to you.
That's not my nature, Merlin.
No. But it's your destiny.
If Gorfydd comes, it'll be because he wants to,
not because I made him.
Don't try and be everyone's friend.
My father tried to strong-arm Gorfydd.
All he did was drive him away.
I won't repeat his mistake.
Lord Owain.
King Cadwys.
Get up.
Good to see you again.
I fear you've had a wasted journey.
Oh, aye?
Aye.
You see.
All nothing.
Harvest failed.
Oh, the... the harvest.
The harvest failed, fellas.
The harvest failed.
Next year we'll do better.
I can't go back to Caer Cadarn empty-handed, Cadwys.
You know that.
We'll have to make do, won't we?
Come on.
- Morgan. - Merlin.
Ralla.
Not quite home, is it?
No, it's not.
But they say we'll be back in Avalon soon.
Hmm.
Colic?
Allow me.
- It's not ready. - Ready enough.
Oh, it's lovely, this. Lovely little spread.
Remarkable, in fact.
Such fine fare and yet you can't pay what you owe.
There's money on the moor.
Oh, aye.
Tin.
- Tin? - Tin.
And gold, maybe. But plenty of tin.
You can't make bronze without tin,
and they pay a fancy price for it in Gaul,
let alone up country.
Oh!
It's not my tin.
Oh, well, it must be someone's tin.
Mmm. Fact is,
Uther let in a pack of men from Kernow...
Kernow?
... to work the old Roman mines
'cause our people lack the skills.
Oh aye, so head up the moor and rough up a few miners.
I can't.
They'd know it was me.
I'd be forced to pay sarhaed.
If... I could find somebody to...
thin the bastards out for me...
make them look to me for protection, see.
Yeah. All right. I'll bite.
Tell me more.
Plenty more where that came from.
We let you live on our land.
And till our soil.
And yet you pay us back with scorn.
Scorn.
Well, not any more.
I was the first to hold him.
To look in those eyes.
And you would be the last?
What I saw...
It's a warning, Arthur, from the gods.
We must heed it.
I will take him north, a mountain village.
They'll never know he's a prince and neither will he.
A life of quiet inconsequence...
The only mountain involved will be
the one that you throw him off.
While you, year upon year, guard his throne.
I won't let you kill him on the strength of a vision.
I'm not seeking your permission.
Some men grow wise in old age, wise and hard.
Others grow weak and flabby and frightened.
Your father, for instance.
Uther? Frightened?
And in his fear, he fled from me to Bedwin,
from the old gods to the new.
And the punishment for his faithless cowardice
was an evil spawn.
Do not choose the path of compromise, Arthur.
Stand aside.
I am his sworn protector.
Your oath is to Dumnonia
and it's Dumnonia you'll be serving.
- Mordred is... - Speak his name...
one more time...
and I shall have to do some protecting, Merlin.
Stand aside.
No.
Look into his eyes and tell me I'm wrong.
The gods won't warn us again, Arthur.
When you find your courage, you know where I'll be.
Hold still, Derfel.
You're very brave, aren't you?
Owain, true to his word, huh?
Double the haul this time! double the haul!
Oi, Cadwys.
Yes, Owain?
If we went in and cleared those tin mines,
dead of night, no blood spilt...
you're certain there'll be no repercussions?
I am.
Done.
Now you listen to me.
This stays between us. Do you understand?
Yes.
Time to go.
Cover the haul!
You seem anxious, Arthur.
Another day and Gundleus has not returned.
I have faith, bishop.
Your presence here every morning,
and last thing at night, says otherwise.
I hope, in time, you'll trust me as you do Sagramor.
In exile I survived by trusting no one.
- Except your men... - Except my men.
It's a hard habit to break.
Well, perhaps you shouldn't try.
Your father didn't trust a soul,
but if you hated the Saxon it was enough.
He'd welcome you and work with you...
Blackshield, Silurian...
Christian.
Your new Christian priest,
he is a strange one.
Ah yes, Sansum.
His mere presence makes me feel sinful.
Ah, Lady Morgan.
Father trusted him.
Gundleus isn't coming back.
Releasing him was arrogant and reckless.
And the shine's coming off you fast.
You need friends, allies,
people who know how Caer Cadarn works.
Bedwin is all of those things.
My sister advocating a Christian?
I have been away a long time.
The Christians have swelled in number.
I noticed.
Bedwin has their ear.
And...
for the most part he is... biddable.
Biddable?
Gundleus will come back.
Have a little faith, sister.
Oh! Oh!
You're thinking about her.
Aren't you?
Nimue?
I don't mind.
Really?
You're in my arms, not hers.
It's not so much that I think about her...
She's just with me.
Not all the time, I hope?
No. No, of course not.
- I mean it. - I like this life.
Waking up not knowing what the day holds.
I don't miss home.
Not even Avalon.
And I never thought I'd say that.
Let's get some light in here.
What?
You're with child.
From Gundleus.
We both know it's true.
Then the child will never be born.
That's for the gods to decide.
No. Never.
I'm so sorry, Nimue. But if the gods will it,
we cannot stand in their way.
Not when we need them so acutely.
I cannot bear his child.
Motherhood will rob me of my powers.
- You told me that. - No.
This is different.
Why?
Why would the gods do this to me?
Gundleus is a vagabond king but a king, nonetheless.
His seed and progeny have value, and the gods throw nothing away.
A month from now, you'll feel differently.
A week.
In the meantime, patience and forbearance
are your friends. As am I.
I won't. I won't feel differently.
The gods will tell you what to do.
- Your role in things. - When I was small
and I ran away and you found me in the orchard...
Enough, Nimue!
We have work to do.
Nimue!
Derfel!
Yes, my Lord?
You're smitten, aren't you?
Better than that witch, eh?
Whatever her name is, er,
- Noomi? - Yeah.
- I suppose so. - Suppose so?
Why would you settle for one of Merlin's freaks?
I'm one of Merlin's freaks, too.
Well said, lad.
Merlin did a good thing taking you in,
and you ain't forgotten. I respect that.
But you can be anything you want to be now, yeah.
Live any kind of life you choose and don't let any bastard
tell you different, you understand?
Listen.
You did well finding that coin.
I want you along with us tonight.
Cadwys has a...
dispute with some local miners.
We're gonna help him resolve it.
Right.
By taking their tin, Derfel, not their lives.
Are you with us?
- Yes, my Lord. - Good.
The Guide from Cadwys is here.
Oh! Good day to you.
King Cadwys has asked me to show you the mine.
That's all I will do.
Right. Pay attention.
The shelter on the right, with the cloth roof, see it?
- Yes. - Aye.
That's where the tin is stored.
The hut on the left, under the rock,
that's where the watchman and his family live.
When the miners and workers finish for the day,
they return to their settlement on the other side of the valley.
The watchman is all you have to worry about.
Don't worry, he won't even know we were there.
I've had my payment from King Cadwys.
Make sure you paint the whole shield black.
Here, Derfel. Hold this one for me.
Why the black tar?
Oengus MacAirem, ever heard of him?
Irish raider.
His men favor black shields and sharp-prowed boats.
They've long been a nuisance in these parts.
So they'll think we are the Irish?
And they will be blamed?
If anyone sees us, which they won't.
We'll be in and out, Derfel. No fuss, no bloodshed.
All's quiet at the mine.
And the watchman?
His wife just called him in for supper.
We need to go.
Now.
Come on, quick, move! Move!
What the hell?
Stay back!
Derfel!
Derfel! Check inside. No more surprises.
Shh, shh. Nice and quiet for me.
Okay. Okay. Okay.
Nothing here!
Grab that tin, leave the shields.
Let's get out of here.
Quick!
- King Eachern. Queen Eachern. - Bedwin.
King Cadwys.
Eachern and Tewdric have arrived in the last hour.
And we weren't sure about Mark.
Eachern is nothing and Tewdric's a given.
What of our men on the Western and Northern Roads?
We have their reports. No word of Gundleus or Gorfydd.
Without Gorfydd, Arthur's plan is wrecked.
Perhaps we could delay Mordred's naming.
How can we?
It was pure folly to think that Gorfydd would come.
But Arthur will never be told.
Where is he? Arthur?
If I knew I'd be talking to him.
Not you.
Lady Morgan, come quickly.
- Gundleus! - Gorfydd.
First time he's set foot on our soil in 15 years.
Open the gates!
Quick! King Gundleus and King Gorfydd are coming!
Welcome! King Gorfydd, King Gundleus.
- My Lord... - Shh.
Listen.
The Edling King has heard our arrival.
But in need of succor by the sound of it.
Fetch him down
and we'll mop his tears.
The king is trying to sleep, my lord.
Yes, fetch Mordred, and we'll drink to his health.
A drink.
To the Edling King!
- The Edling King! - The Edling King!
The Edling King!
- Stop! - Oh.
Fetch him down.
- Or I will. - My Lord...
you're tired from your journey.
Take your leave a moment.
No.
Fetch. Him. Down.
They say I never cried.
Even with colic.
I suppose a bastard's blessed in a way.
No expectation, no duty.
A bastard's born free.
His days and nights truly his own and the wise ones...
... never forget it.
Never squander it.
Welcome, King Gorfydd, I'm glad you came.
I hear you sent Owain to rob the tribes...
and then take his pick of the men.
Owain is collecting overdue tax.
Mmm.
A strong Dumnonia is a strong isle.
That old line of Uther's.
If Dumnonia falls, the isle falls,
is nearer the mark.
Only the very slow
or wildly arrogant
would allow their defenses to become so depleted and...
... you're not slow.
I'm sorry you won't shake my hand.
Well, you're a bastard.
You must be used to that.
Then why accept my invitation?
- Oh. Curiosity. - Ah.
Amusement?
Boredom.
And a chance to see my friends
without the stench of Uther's self-regard.
You will respect my father's memory in this hall.
This hall?
This hall where he banished you?
Where he humiliated you?
Where he beat you to a pulp?
Where he beat you until you bled
and you cried and you pissed yourself?
I wasn't here.
But I heard about it.
An ordeal so wounding that you never came home.
Not for two months after his death.
Or was it another memory you were thinking of?
I didn't know why he did it.
Not then...
not for years.
But now...
Now I have an inkling.
He wanted to tell me that I was nothing.
Not worthy of a sword.
Or the chance to survive.
Never mind the Pendragon blood in my veins.
No matter.
I am his son still.
Return this man to captivity.
No, no, no, no, no. I kept my end. Bastard.
More fool me. Huh?
In expecting this whore's son
to keep his word is like asking a dog to dance!
I promised you life, not liberty.
Take him.
Don't shake my hand. Fine.
But you will pledge to the Edling King.
Or I will take everything from you.
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