The Dragon's Call
No young man, no matter how great, can know his destiny. He cannot glimpse his part in the great story that is about to unfold. Like everyone, he must live and learn. And so it will be for the young warlock arriving at the gates of Camelot. A boy that will, in time, father a legend. His name . . . Merlin.
Merlin, a boy of about seventeen, was on the very final stage of his journey; walking through the town of Camelot itself. Having grown up in the small village of Ealdor, this was a fresh and exciting experience for him. Everywhere there were people scurrying about, shopping and chatting to neighbours and friends. There were craftsmen working at their stalls, women carrying bundles of firewood – everyone generally carrying out their everyday lives, which held no particular thrill for them, but Merlin looked on in fascination and delight.
Eventually the town gave way to tall stone walls and a drawbridge, and Merlin was then walking within the actual castle of the King. Before him lay a big, open courtyard which, perhaps, would have looked a great deal more impressive had it not been, at that moment filled with people. An excited crowd were barging and jostling each other, pointing and whispering. Merlin realised this was not an everyday gathering. Something interesting was happening.
He frowned and drew closer, adding his own elbows and knees to the general shoving of the crowd. A guard began to beat steadily on a drum, creating a chilling and formidable sound. From across the courtyard a man was being dragged along by a guard each side of him to a platform at the centre of the crowd. Merlin's eyes widened as he noticed the wooden block and a man in a dark hood clutching an axe next to it.
High up on a balcony, and overlooking the crowd stood the King of Camelot. Like all his knights, he wore a flowing red cloak, and chain mail. His gold crown stood out among others, but his height was what gave him his authoritative appearance. At this moment he was wearing his customary disapproving glare – not a look to be reckoned with.
"Let this serve as a lesson to all," the King began, his voice filling the courtyard. "This man, Thomas James Collins, is adjudged guilty of conspiring to use enchantments and magic. And pursuant to the laws of Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death." The King paused, taking in his subjects faces and expressions, and spoke a little gentler. "I pride myself as a fair and just king. But for the crime of sorcery, there is but one sentence I can pass."
On the platform the guards pushed their captive to his knees and forced his head over the block. The man with the axe approached and raised his weapon. The drumming increased speed and the King slowly lifted his arm. Merlin gulped, horror stricken and, as both arm and axe fell, looked away from the scene feeling sick.
The King looked around at the expressions of horror, incredulity and interest and continued; "When I came to this land, this kingdom was mired in chaos. But with the people's help, magic was driven from the realm. So I declare a festival to celebrate twenty years since the great dragon was captured and Camelot freed from the evil of sorcery. Let the celebrations begin." Obviously pleased, both King and crowd began to move away, but suddenly a loud wail broke the still.
An old woman with tangled grey hair and dressed in rags stood in the open as the crowd parted around her. For a moment there was complete silence as everyone stared at her, then she began to speak in a wobbly, tortured voice. "There is only one evil in this land and it is not magic. It is you!" Her face was tear-stained and sad, but defiant. The King stepped towards the edge of the balcony and looked down at her with a face like thunder. "With your hatred and your ignorance . . . You took my son!" her voice broke for a moment, then she appeared to draw strength in her frail body and spoke more harshly. "And I promise you, before these celebrations are over, you will share my tears. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. A son for a son!" she was shouting now, but still appeared weak and broken.
"Seize her!" the King cried, pointing a regal finger at her pathetic looking body.
The woman drew herself up and, clutching a jewel around her neck, muttered something unintelligible. A wind surged around her, whipping her rags about, and within a few seconds the woman had faded into nothing. The crowd leapt backwards with a gasp and then the wind began to calm again until there was no sign that she had been there at all.
The King looked on in silent anger, then abruptly turned and marched away.
Up, in a high window in the castle a girl stood. She had watched the entire scene and now turned away in disgust, banging shut the window and shaking her long black curls violently.
Merlin was in a slight state of shock, unsure of what sort of place he had arrived at. Why did mother send me here? This looks like the worst place in the world for someone like . . . me, Merlin thought. He shook himself and followed the example of the rest of the crowd, now melting slowly away. He approached a side door in one of the palace walls and looked about him.
"Where would I find Gaius, the court physician?" he asked one of the guards standing beside it, trying not to let his nerves show.
The guard didn't even seem to look at him, just gave a quick jab behind him at the door with his thumb, mumbling, "There."
Inside, Merlin found himself in a corridor of varied passages and stairs, the walls made of a pretty and pale stone. He followed varied signs labelled 'Court Physician' and such, until he came to a small wooden door.
He knocked and opened it slightly, peering around its edge. "Hello?"
There was no answer and the room appeared to be empty, so Merlin opened the door wider and stepped inside. The room was filled with strange looking implements, ingredients and dozens of small glass bottles, each neatly labelled. "Hello?" he said again, looking about him curiously.
Finally his eyes settled on a small wooden platform high above the floor, which appeared to provide access for the many books up there. What caught his eye was an old man, dressed in a plain brown robe with his back to him – apparently scanning the books.
"Gaius?" Merlin said again a little louder. He cleared his throat.
The man turned, startled, and lost his footing in his surprise. Merlin watched in horror as he fell backwards onto the flimsy wooden railing which promptly split in half. He reacted without thinking and pushed with his mind. The old man's fall began to slow and then came to a complete halt about one and a half metres from the ground. Merlin looked about quickly and caught sight of an old bed against one wall. Again he pushed with his mind and the bed rushed towards him and came to a stop directly beneath the man. Go! Merlin thought and suddenly he was falling again, but not for long, as the bed soon caught him.
Merlin sighed with relief, his heart pounding. That was close. Who knows what the fall would have done to a man his age? The man pushed himself off the bed hurriedly, appearing unhurt, but highly alarmed. "What the . . .? What did you just do?" he demanded, scuttling towards Merlin.
"Um . . ." Merlin stammered, not quite recovered, and unable to think up a sufficient answer.
"Tell me."
Merlin looked about him in alarm. Here, magic, as he had just witnessed, seemed to get you killed. Admitting what he had done did not seem like a good idea. "Well, er . . . I have no idea what happened."
The man had now turned away from him and was peering at the wreckage with steadily increasing anxiety. "If anyone had seen that . . ."
"No, that was nothing to do with me," Merlin was quick to deny. He was unable to think clearly and could only hear his brain repeatedly rebuking him, you twat, you twat, you twat.
"I know what it was," The man snapped, facing him. "I just want to know where you learnt to do it!"
"Nowhere!"
"So how is is you know magic?" The man persisted.
"I don't!" Merlin cried in alarm.
The man narrowed his eyes. "Where did you study?" Merlin hesitated, baffled at this strange old man. "Answer me!"
"I've never studied magic or been taught–" Merlin stuttered, stumbling over his words in an effort to get them out right.
The man gritted his teeth and approached threateningly. "Are you lying to me, boy?"
Merlin could have thrown up his hands in frustration. What was with this man? "What do you want me to say?"
"The truth."
May as well go for it, thought Merlin. "I was born like this."
The words were barely out of his mouth before the man dismissed them with an impatient toss of his head. "That's impossible!" Merlin paused, watching him warily. The man looked confused and glanced about him before seeming to realise something and looking back at him in a perplexed manner. "Who are you?"
Finally, something I can answer, Merlin thought and threw off his rucksack to rummage for the envelope his mother had given him. "Oh, um . . . I have this letter." He found it and held out the stained paper for the man, who was still looking at him suspiciously.
"I . . ." he glanced down at the letter and took it, then said frustratedly "I don't have my glasses." He continued narrowing his eyes at Merlin.
Merlin smiled despite himself. "I'm Merlin."
For a moment Gaius looked blank, then his eyes widened. "Hunith's son?"
"Yes," Merlin grinned, relieved that he recognised the name.
"But you're not meant to be here until Wednesday!" Gaius cried, seeming partly outraged and partly perplexed.
Merlin's smile dropped. Was he dealing with a mad man? "It is Wednesday."
Gaius's eyebrows rose. "Ah. Right then." He frowned, then collected himself and pointed at a door at the end of the room. "You'd better put your bag in there."
Merlin and nodded, beginning to make his way past the old man. Then he stopped abruptly and turned around, beginning to stutter again. "Look, you won't say anything about . . ." he gave the wreckage of the broken banister and depleted bed a significant look.
Gaius frowned. "No." Merlin bit his lip and managed a small smile. He turned back to the door again, when the man stopped him. "Although, Merlin – I should say thank you."
Merlin gave a relieved parting grin, and Gaius gave the mess another look. Oh, dear, he thought.
Merlin's new room was small and cosy, with a few cupboards and a desk against one wall. The bed was jutting out from the wall opposite the door, with space each side of it. It was warmer than his room had been at home, with the cold winter air easily making its way through cracks and holes. Here, the room was definitely warm, if slightly stuffy. Granted, it was summer, but he was willing to bet it wouldn't be much cooler in the winter.
He went over to the window and threw the shutter open. Outside lay a magnificent view of the town by moonlight, with a few torches here and there providing random glows in the dimness. It was so beautiful and different to his home, that Merlin smiled in delight and stood there drinking in the sight for several long minutes.
My dear Gaius,
I turn to you for I feel lost and alone, and don't know who to trust.
It is every mother's fate to think her child is special.
Yet I would give my life that Merlin were not so.
Ours is a small village and he is so clearly at odds with people here that if he were to remain, I fear what will become of him.
He needs a hand to hold, a voice to guide, someone that might help him find a purpose for his gifts.
I beg you, if you understand a mother's love for her son, keep him safe.
And may God save you both.
Hunith
Gaius removed his glasses and sat deep in thought, the letter clutched in his hand. This was a new puzzle for him. One that would require a great deal of wisdom.
In the palace the girl was standing, gazing out of the window again. Staring at that chopping block, with the axe still sunk into the wood. Her door opened, but she did not turn.
Uther marched towards her, slowly and deliberately. "Morgana."
"Yes?" the girl tore her eyes from the window and turned to face her king.
"What is this? Why are you not joining us at the feast?" Uther demanded.
Morgana set her jaw. "I just don't think that chopping someone's head off is cause for a celebration." Uther closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to calm himself. Morgana, apparently oblivious, looked towards the window again and continued. "That poor mother."
Uther straightened and looked her in the eyes. "Simple justice for what he'd done."
"To whom?" the girl said incredulously. "He practised magic. He didn't hurt anyone."
"You were not around twenty years ago," Uther snarled. "You have no idea what it was like."
Morgana shook her head in disgust. "How long are you going to keep punishing people for what happened then?"
"Until they realise there is no room for magic in my kingdom!" Uther snapped. He lowered his voice again. "You will be with me when I greet Lady Helen." With that he began to stride away.
"I told you, I want no part of this!" Morgana cried.
"I am your guardian!" Uther growled, returning to her side. "I expect you to do as I ask. If you show me no respect, at least respect our finest singer." He exited, his footsteps sounding loudly on the stone floor.
"You know the more brutal you are, the more enemies you'll create!" Morgana called after him. Uther ignored her and the girl was once again left alone to stare out into the courtyard.
Somewhere in the Forest of Brechfa, a camp was set. There were a six guards escorting the Lady Helen on her long journey towards Camelot. At this moment, there were three sentries and the Lady Helen's Captain awake and alert for danger.
The Lady Helen was preparing for bed in her tent, humming softly to herself as she brushed her hair in front of a small mirror. She started at a sudden rustling and twig-snapping nearby. She peered at the walls of her tent, heart hammering. "Hello?" she said hesitantly and a dark shape began to move around the edge of her tent, towards the doorway. "Gregory?" she asked again, quickly.
Almost immediately her tent flap opened, and Captain Gregory poked his head through, his eyes anxiously scanning her. "Lady Helen."
Lady Helen breathed with relief and attempted to slow her pounding heart. Gregory would keep her safe. "Is all well?" she checked, just in case, she told herself.
The Captain visibly relaxed and nodded with a small smile. "Yes, my lady. With luck we'll reach Camelot late tomorrow."
Lady Helen smiled affectionately. "That's good."
Captain Gregory offered a warm smile, "I'm outside if you need me."
Helen inclined her head, still smiling, and watched as he left. She looked about her, feeling unusually edgy and exhaled heavily.
Outside the Captain narrowed his eyes into the darkness. The Lady was not the only one to feel uneasy. As a precaution he drew his sword and circled around the tent, towards the back, staring intently into the trees. "Who's there?" he questioned softly, careful not to let the Lady Helen overhear him, lest she become worried. He was not sure of another presence, but was still nervous. "Who's there?" he called again.
Lady Helen had returned to her mirror and was gently dabbing her face with a wet cloth, when she heard a twig snap somewhere behind her. The human shape outside her tent was back and slowly making it's way towards the flap. Lady Helen told herself not to be silly, and watched carefully. It was most likely Gregory returning with some other bit of news or piece of comfort.
She gasped as the face of an old woman appeared in the doorway. Lady Helen, like most females of her class took in her clothes first. They were of poor cloth and ripped, her dress a muddy brown and her long, straggly grey hair uncombed.
Lady Helen's eyes opened wide, but her throat closed up and she remained like a silent spectator. She rose from her chair awkwardly, as if to challenge this strange presence, when the woman stepped fully into the tent and held up some sort of straw doll. Lady Helen barely had time to take this in, before the old woman brought down a knife into the straw dummy.
Lady Helen gasped, as she felt something hit her chest. Like a stab – but more like all the wind was knocked out of her. The knife fell again, and she felt the same sort of pain, but deeper – working it's way towards her heart. She knew without a doubt that the third blow would finish her. Her eyes followed the knife as it thrust down into the dummy for the final time.
Mary Collins regarded the body of Lady Helen without expression. What had to be done was done. Pity though – she was very pretty. She turned away from the lifeless body now strewn across the bed, and sat down at the dressing table. From her bosom she brought out a necklace with a large amber gem on it, held it between her hands, and began to mutter quietly. After a moment, she dropped the necklace and grimaced as she felt the magic take hold. The strength of it rushing through her bones was constricting and pressured.
The long grey hair of the woman tightened, darkened, thickened and lengthened. Her skin smoothed and took on the same healthy glow of the woman now dead. In fact, everything about her appearance now – except her clothes – was the same as Lady Helen's.
Mary touched her face gingerly and, feeling the smooth, perfect skin beneath her fingertips, smiled hesitantly. How good it felt to be young again! Her very bones felt stronger and she trembled with energy. Seeing the hand-mirror on the table, she picked it up and looked into it. Mary Collins' face stared back grimly.
"Merlin . . . Merlin . . ."
Merlin's eyes opened to see the cold morning light. He frowned, something not quite right. Looking around his new room, everything seemed to be as he had left it last night, so Merlin shrugged off the feeling and got dressed.
Gaius was ladling a bowl of either very runny looking porridge or . . . Merlin wasn't entirely sure. He shrugged on his coat and gave his host a friendly smile.
"I got you water," Gaius announced, nodding towards a bucket. "You didn't wash last night." He led Merlin to the table and set the bowl down.
"Sorry."
"Eat your breakfast," Gaius offered.
Merlin sat and dipped a spoon into the grey gloopy mixture. He made a very slight disgusted expression.
Gaius watched, standing behind his chair for a moment. Then he leant forward and gently pushed the bucket of water off the edge of the table.
Merlin looked up and before he could stop himself, halted both the bucket and the water, which had just begun to slop out of the top.
Gaius let out an incredulous gasp, and Merlin jerked to his feet. Did it again! he thought in annoyance. The bucket fell to the floor, water sloshing out.
"How did you do that?" Gaius demanded. "Did you incant a spell in your mind?"
"I don't know any spells," Merlin quickly defended himself, wishing that he hadn't been so foolish.
Gaius continued his interrogation, "So what did you do? There must be something!"
Merlin shrugged. Was there no stopping this man? "It just happened."
Gaius looked down at the bucket, obviously perplexed. Merlin took the opportunity and fetched a mop from a corner. He quickly attempted to clean up the mess.
Gaius sighed, "Well, we'd better keep you out of trouble."
Merlin bit his lip. Keep out of trouble. Yeah, right. Keeping out of trouble had never been his strong point. But here – here it could be life-threatening if anybody found out about his 'gift'. Gaius had turned to one of his bottle-covered tables and searched through them. "You can help me until I find some paid work for you," he said. He picked out two bottles and showed them to Merlin. "Here – hollyhock and feverfew for Lady Percival." He put one bottle down and then indicated the other which contained a bright yellow liquid. "And this is for Sir Olwen. He's as blind as a weevil, so warn him not to take it all at once."
Gaius turned away and picked up a plate from under a cloth. "Here," he offered, holding out a sandwich – it looked much more appetizing than the strange porridge. Merlin grinned and Gaius' mouth twitched, before he tossed his head and muttered a dismissive, "Off you go."
Merlin picked up the sandwich and bottles and made for the door.
"And Merlin," Gaius called after him, bringing the boy to a halt. "I need hardly tell you that the practice of any form of enchantments will get you killed."
Merlin nodded. Yes, he was sure he would remember that – if not because of the scene yesterday, then because of the knowledge that he could be executed for something as harmless as halting a falling bucket of water.
Merlin ate the sandwich as he made his way through varied corridors and staircases, stopping only now and then to ask directions. By the time he reached Sir Olwen he had finished eating and had stopped dropping crumbs all over the castle floors. Sir Olwen was a fairly shrivelled man, bald on top, but not particularly old.
"I brought you your medicine," Merlin informed him as he opened the door to his chamber.
The retired knight smiled as if pleasantly surprised and held out a hand. After a moment Merlin realised he really was as blind as a weevil, and pressed the bottle into the wrinkled hand. He smiled awkwardly and had turned to leave when he remembered Gaius' precaution. "Oh, Gaius said don't drink it all . . ." Merlin trailed off as he realised Sir Olwen had tipped his head back and was downing the bottle. "I'm sure it's fine . . ." Merlin murmured, more to himself than to the knight, but Sir Olwen simply nodded cheerfully and shut the door.
All right, thought Merlin. I'm sure it's fine. He had come out into the sunny courtyard, and paused for a moment when he saw a group of boys laughing together.
"Where's the target?" one boy about Merlin's own age demanded. A boy opposite him, obviously a servant, nervously glanced at him.
"There, sir?"
"But it's in the sun." The first boy raised his eyebrows.
"It's not that bright," the servant protested.
"A bit like you then," his master gave him a patronising smile.
The servant sighed, and dropped the armour he was carrying. "Put the target down the other end, shall I, sir?" he lifted the circular wooden board and began to move it.
The rest of the group laughed, obviously enjoying the show. Merlin narrowed his eyes. "Teach him a lesson," one of the other boys suggested to more laughter.
The first boy smirked, "This'll teach him." He drew a knife and hurled it at the board the servant was carrying. It hit dead on. The servant lowered the board, obviously surprised and squinted at his master.
"Hey, hang on!" he protested.
The first boy smirked again. "Don't stop."
The servant moved a few steps farther on, "Here?"
"I told you to keep moving," the boy rebuked and threw another knife straight at the board. The poor, terrified servant barely had time to raise the target to shield him before it hit. More laughter. "Come on! Run." He was laughing now and threw another knife as the servant began to run. "We want some moving target practice," he laughed, sneering at the poor, staggering servant boy.
Eventually the servant lost balance and dropped the target which rolled over to Merlin who stopped it with his boot. The boys from Ealdor had never done anything as mean as this and Merlin was appalled. He swallowed his anger for the moment and directed a friendly grin towards the group of boys. "Hey. Come on, that's enough."
The first boy had promptly stopped laughing and was now staring at him with a mixture of disgust and incredulity. "What?"
Merlin smirked at the other boy. "You've had your fun, my friend."
The first boy approached, swaggering nearer. He gave Merlin a snobbish look. "Do I know you?"
Merlin, almost ready to forgive the boy's obviously sick sense of humour if he showed a little friendliness, jutted out a hand. "Oh, I'm Merlin."
"So I don't know you." The boy stopped not far from him, ignoring the hand.
"No." Merlin dropped his arm.
The boy spoke in the same patronising tone of voice he had used earlier with his servant, "Yet you called me friend."
Merlin gritted his teeth. "That was my mistake."
"Yes, I think so," the first boy agreed, giving a benevolent smile.
"Yeah," Merlin continued. "I'd never have a friend who could be such an ass." He smirked.
The boy laughed pityingly, as Merlin turned to walk away. "Or I one who could be so stupid." Merlin paused and turned, and the boy stepped nearer again. "Tell me, Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?"
"No," Merlin replied, levelling his gaze with the other boy's.
"Shall I help you?" Again the patronising smile.
Merlin snorted. "I wouldn't if I were you." Mustn't lose it, mustn't lose it. Stay calm.
"What are you going to do?" The first boy seemed seriously amused by this point.
"You have no idea," Merlin said, half sniggering, half fuming. I could so easily kill you, Merlin thought. It would be as simple as a tree falling on his head. Or something equally as heavy.
"Be my guest," the boy grinned. "Come on. Come on!" When Merlin hesitated, wondering what to do, he jeered again. "Come on."
So, Merlin reacted in a way he had never before. He attempted to throw a punch at the sniggering face. As quick as lightening, his arm was gripped and wrenched around until it was twisted behind his back. He struggled uselessly.
"I'll throw you in jail for that," the boy admonished from behind Merlin.
Merlin wriggled furiously. "Who do you think you are? The King?"
A genuine chuckle escaped the boy's mouth this time. "No. I'm his son. Arthur."
As his mother was no longer around to shout at him, Merlin ranted furiously at himself in his mind as the guards dragged him down the steps to the dungeons. You idiot! You complete and utter idiot! But part of him argued for the sake of that poor servant. Awful luck, serving that prat.
The guards shoved him into a cell and locked the door behind him. Merlin just sat for a while, brooding and arguing. He was, he had to admit, a little scared. What would happen now?
Four horses clattered into the castle courtyard at about eight that evening. They were greeted by the guards present in the courtyard. Mary, at the head of the procession, waited until Gregory had dismounted and was there to help, before attempting to climb down. She was unused to the robes required as a lady and did not want to risk tripping herself.
She was led into the great hall where the King and his ward were at the far end, waiting to greet her. As she approached Uther rose from his throne, with a welcoming and obviously pleased smile.
"Lady Helen! Thank you so much for coming to sing at our celebrations." He walked forwards, meeting her halfway.
Lady Helen curtsied and smiled widely. "The pleasure's all mine."
Uther smiled in satisfaction and took her hands. "How was your journey?"
The lady's eyes rose upward, as she sighed. "Oh, the time it took, sire."
"It's always worth the wait."
She smiled and fingered the jewel about her neck, thinking upon sweet, sweet revenge. "It will be."
The next morning found Merlin still in his cell, curled up under his coat and sleeping on a pile of hay. He awoke like he had the previous morning – to something strange and distant.
"Merlin."
He sat up hurriedly, tossing aside the coat. Where had that voice come from? It sounded so far, yet so close . . .
"Merlin."
He stood up, and backed away from the corner he had been lying in. What was that?
"Merlin."
Cautiously, Merlin approached the corner and knelt down, pressing his ear to the cold floor.
"Merlin!" Gaius' voice. Merlin pushed himself off the floor and grinned with delight at the old man. Gaius gave a heavy sigh and exclaimed; "You never cease to amaze me. The one thing that someone like you should do is keep your head down. And what do you do? You behave like an idiot."
Merlin gulped. "I'm sorry." Maybe he shouldn't have worried so much about that mental rant after all. It seemed Gaius would make an excellent replacement as an angry mother.
The physician snorted. "You're lucky. I managed to pull a few strings to get you released."
Merlin's face split into a relieved grin. "Oh, thank you! Thank you!" he cried. Gaius surveyed him impassively and Merlin took a deep breath. "I won't forget this." He was liking Gaius very much already. It wasn't a bad start.
"Well," Gaius cautioned. "There is a small price to pay."
Price to pay? Merlin thought. I only insulted a gigantic prat – and he deserved to be insulted! He wondered just what this 'price to pay' was.
A soggy tomato crashed into Merlin's head and he closed his eyes and bent his neck towards the ground as much as possible. He was standing in the stocks and was presently being pelted by dozens of exultant children. And vegetables. Vegetable after vegetable they came, smashing into his hair, his neck and sometimes his face.
Gaius walked past him sometime with a very amused expression.
Merlin was just relieved he wasn't shouting. This wasn't quite what he had expected.
After fifteen or so minutes, the children appeared to run out of vegetables and Merlin was left to await their return. He was just spitting out some tomato when white, bustling skirts caught his eye. A pretty girl wearing a plain dress and a thick cloak was approaching him. She had wavy brown hair pulled into a bun and the hair left framing her face complimented the dozens of pale freckles crossing her face.
She stopped when she reached him, and smiled. "I'm Guinevere, but most people call me Gwen. I'm the Lady Morgana's maid."
Merlin gave her a half stunned smile. "Right. I'm Merlin." He offered his hand – or as much of it as would come out of the hole it was trapped in. She shook it with an amused smile. Merlin shrugged and grinned, "Although most people just call me 'idiot'."
"No, no!" Gwen protested. "I saw what you did. You were so brave."
"Or stupid," Merlin sighed.
"Well, I'm glad you walked away," Gwen acknowledged, "you weren't going to beat him."
Merlin smirked, "Oh, I could beat him," he murmured.
Gwen raised her eyebrows, "You think? Because you don't really look like one of these big, muscly kind of fellows." She gave him an odd look.
Merlin looked slightly offended. "Thanks."
Gwen seemed to have realised what she had said and she quickly flapped her arms and amended, "No, I'm sure you're stronger than you look. It's just . . . Arthur's one of these real rough, tough, save-the-world kind of men. And, well . . ."
"What?"
She gave him an apologetic look. "You don't look like that."
Merlin glanced about him, then beckoned her closer with a finger. "I'm in disguise," he confided.
Gwen's laugh was surprised and delighted. However, she soon sobered up a little. "It's great you stood up to him."
"You think so?" Merlin smiled sheepishly.
Gwen shook her head. "Arthur's a bully and everyone thought you were a real hero." She smiled a little.
"Really?" Merlin half frowned, half smiled.
"Mmhm."
At that moment the mobs of children returned, having found some more rotten vegetables somewhere. Merlin thought he should do the gallant thing and warn Gwen before she was pelted too. "Oh, excuse me, Guinevere." He nodded towards the gathering children. "My fans are waiting."
Gwen laughed and scurried off before she got hit.
She was just in time.
"Want some vegetables with that?" Gaius offered with a wry smile.
Merlin looked up from his lunch with a sheepish grin. "I know you're still angry with me."
Gaius sat down opposite his guest with an amused sigh. "Your mother asked me to look after you," he reminded him.
"Yes," Merlin nodded.
Gaius studied him for a moment in silence, then decided to change tack. "What did your mother say to you about your 'gifts'?"
Merlin smiled. "That I was . . . special?"
"You are special," Gaius nodded thoughtfully. "The likes of which I have never seen before." He narrowed his eyes at the boy.
Merlin looked up from his food and caught the expression. "What do you mean?"
"Well . . ." Gaius paused, wondering exactly what he should tell him. "Magic requires incantations, spells – it takes years to study. But, what I saw you do was . . . elemental, instinctive!"
Merlin smiled. Yes, magic was something that had always been available to him – even as a baby. "What's the point if it can't be used?"
"That, I do not know. You are a question that has never been posed before, Merlin."
There was a short silence, as Merlin digested this information. It was intriguing – how come he had a gift that (apparently) no one else had ever been known to possess? He frowned, then turned his attention back to his informant. How did he know so much? "Did you ever study magic?" he asked.
Gaius shifted uneasily and avoided the question, "Uther banned all such work 20 years ago."
"Why?" Merlin demanded, his thoughts going back to the scene in the square. As far as he had known the only thing condemning the man had been magical powers – not necessarily even directed at some unwilling victim.
"People used magic for the wrong end at that time. It threw the natural order into chaos. Uther made it his mission to destroy everything from back then. Even the dragons."
"What, all of them?" Merlin leant forwards, interested. Were there none at all left?
"Well, there was one dragon he chose not to kill."Gaius smiled humourlessly. "He kept it as an example. He imprisoned it in a cave deep beneath the castle . . . where no one can free it." He sat back and smiled, ending the conversation. "Now eat up. When you finish, you'll take a preparation to Lady Helen. She needs it for her voice."
Merlin held in a sigh and finished his lunch. Delivering potions was not nearly so exciting as finding out about strange and mythical things.
For the first time, Merlin was wandering around the posh side of the castle – where the King, his family and guests resided. It was a good deal cleaner than the area around Gaius' quarters and up here there were well-dressed servants hurrying around, making sure everything was been kept in order.
Lady Helen's room was, of course, up here, as fitted her title of 'honoured guest'. Merlin didn't have much trouble finding her room, having asked a few servants passing by. He opened the little wooden door without thinking and then cursed himself. Knock, you twat! he snarled at himself. He was relieved to find the room empty.
It was a small, but well-furnished room, with silk bed hangings and bright flowers on various ledges. On a table, directly in front of him was a mirror, covered badly with an old cloth. Around it were scattered ornaments and other various objects which seemed out of place in this grand room. Merlin quickly strode forwards and put down the little glass bottle on the table. He hesitated upon seeing the strange items and picked up one which caught his attention. It was a little straw dummy. A shiver ran up his spine. It seemed a disturbing and odd item for a lady to possess.
He put it down and pulled a richly embroidered cloth aside to reveal a book. Merlin glanced over his shoulder quickly, before picking it up. What are you doing, you utter fool! he thought, but continued to inspect the book. The outside was thick leather, with strange runes running all over it. It was bound by an old bit of string.
Merlin's fingers moved towards the tie when suddenly he heard footsteps close, outside the door. He hurriedly put it back on the table and pulled the cloth over it, before turning to face the door, heart pounding.
Lady Helen appeared in the doorway and looked at him with suspicious, narrow eyes. "What are you doing in here?" she demanded.
"Um . . ." Merlin began to stumble over his words in his effort to sound normal, like he had not just been prying at things which were absolutely none of his business. "I was . . . I was asked to deliver this," he turned quickly and grabbed the potion off the tabletop.
He handed it to Lady Helen quickly and, offering a hasty smile, rushed out of the room. Four things kept running through his mind. Four things which stood out to him and what he couldn't make sense of. The straw dummy, the covered mirror, the book with the runes tied up by old string and . . . the flash of somethingout the corner of his eye as he had turned to pick up the potion. Something which did not belong, as much as the other three things did somehow . . . not belong.
Mary stared at the door, feeling scared and caught unawares. Exactly what the boy had seen, she didn't know. She didn't know how long he'd been here, probably looking through her things. And just now – a corner of uncovered mirror – what if he had seen? No. She must calm down. There was most probably nothing to worry about. Nothing would stand in the way of her revenge. "Oh, Thomas," she murmured. "My poor, sweet Thomas. Don't you worry now."
Merlin crossed the sunny courtyard and wandered into the busy streets beyond. People were still milling about, carrying things, gossiping, etc. For a moment, everything was fine. It was good weather, and everybody seemed happy. Then he spotted three people coming towards him. His stomach clenched and he swallowed hard. Oh, it would just have to be, wouldn't it? Okay, keep calm. Keep your head down. Keep walking.
Merlin shouldered his way past the Prince and his friends silently.
"How's your knee-walking coming along?" Arthur called, obviously having noticed him.
Don't answer. Just keep walking.
"Oh, don't run away!" Arthur laughed.
Merlin stopped. Walking away? Yeah, because that's the wise thing to do. "From you?" he said, keeping his back towards the prince.
Arthur rolled his eyes in mock relief. "Ah, thank God. I thought you were deaf as well as dumb."
"Look," Merlin smiled in an annoyed away and turned to face his tormentor. "I've told you you're an ass. I just didn't realise you're a royal one." Arthur's eyebrows rose and he glanced at his friends significantly. "Oh, what are you going to do? Get your daddy's men to protect you?"
Arthur laughed, clearly finding this very entertaining. "I could take you apart with one blow."
"I could take you apart with less than that," Merlin smiled secretively, envisioning the pompous ass being flung easily against the castle wall. Oh, the joys that would bring.
Arthur gave him a disbelieving smile. "Are you sure?"
Don't be stupid. Don't be an absolute idiot, Merlin. Merlin gritted his teeth and pulled off his jacket.
Arthur burst out laughing again. One of his friends handed him a mace, which he tossed at the surprised Merlin, who jumped out of the way. "Here you go, big man."
Merlin picked up the mace and swallowed hard as Arthur began expertly whirling his own mace. Merlin, this is absolutely the most stupid idea you have ever had.
"Come on, then," Arthur grinned, slowly approaching. "I warn you - I've been trained to kill since birth."
"Wow," was Merlin's unimpressed (and slightly terrified) reply. "And how long have you been training to be a prat?"
Arthur stopped whirling his mace and rolled his eyes, smiling a little. "You can't address me like that," he said seriously.
I know, thought Merlin. Because that would be a very stupid idea. You're a bloody prince. "Sorry. How long have you been training to be a prat . . . my lord?"
Arthur laughed and Merlin grinned triumphantly for a moment. But then Arthur's arm suddenly lashed out and Merlin barely had time to duck out of the way of a very dangerous looking ball of metal.
He backed away, as Arthur struck repetitively, giving Merlin barely any time to react. "Come on, then, Merlin!" Merlin continued backing up and gave his own mace a tentative whirl. To his alarm it caught in a nearby hanging basket and, for a moment he struggled to free it. He had just enough time to move before Arthur struck a beam by Merlin's head. "Come on!"
Inside his chambers, Gaius glanced out of his window to see what the commotion was. Seeing the two boys fighting furiously he suppressed a sigh and made his way to the door. Just how much trouble was this boy going to cause? At this rate he'd be going to jail every day.
Outside, Arthur was getting closer and closer. At one point Merlin tripped and rolled backwards over a fruit stall. The mace smashed into a beetroot which spurted purple juice. The Prince leapt over the stall and made after Merlin who was retreating into an open shed. With a grunt, he felt himself fall again, this time on some flour sacks. Arthur laughed. "You're in trouble now," he said, approaching with a slow grin and swinging his mace round and round.
"Oh, God," Merlin muttered. He looked around desperately. Directly behind Arthur were some hanging hooks. Without thinking, Merlin leant forward and focused his mind. The mace tangled itself up in the hooks, giving Merlin enough time to dodge out of the way of Arthur's reach. He was grinning now. Of course! Magic. Magic was the only way to beat him. Using magic he could probably humiliate the egoistic prat quite a bit.
He darted away, further into the shed. Looking around, he spotted a wooden block under a bench. He slid it to the left four inches and Arthur slammed into it, his knee hitting the top edge. His face screwed up in pain.
Merlin grinned. He was making Arthur angry now. He ducked behind a bench and spotted a rope lying across the floor, across Arthur's path. With another little push of his mind, the rope pulled taught and tripped him up. He fell into a rather rugged, and undignified heap.
Merlin smiled and grabbed Arthur's mace from where it had fallen on the floor. He swung it around and advanced on the now defenceless Prince. "Do you want to give up?" he demanded.
"Do you?" Arthur retorted, laughing nervously and watching the whirling mace in Merlin's hand.
"Do you?" Merlin pressed, pushing Arthur further back into the corner, until he stumbled and fell back onto the same flour sacks Merlin had fallen on before. Merlin looked up at the cheering crowd grinning. The faces were all smiling back at him, clearly enjoying the fight. But then his eyes fell on Gaius and the now familiar disapproving expression. His smile fell, but before he could react, something slammed into his back and then his side and stomach, and finally his head, which forced him to the ground. "Arggh!" he groaned.
Arthur put down the broom and grinned. Two guards, who had been watching the fight, now stepped in and picked Merlin up, one firm hand on each arm. "Wait," Arthur shook his head at them. "Let him go." Arthur stepped forwards and pushed back the guards. "He may be an idiot, but he's a brave one." He paused and looked Merlin narrowly in the eyes. "There's something about you, Merlin. I can't quite put my finger on it." He turned to leave, the remainder of the crowd parting to let him through.
"How could you be so foolish?" Gaius demanded following Merlin into his rooms and slamming the door behind him.
"He needed to be taught a lesson," Merlin said defensively, rubbing his shoulder. Gaius noticed blood on his shirt.
"Magic must be studied, mastered and used for good! Not for idiotic pranks!"
Merlin turned on Gaius, still angry from his encounter with Arthur. "What is there to master?" he demanded. "I could move objects like that before I could talk!"
"Then by now you should know how to control yourself," Gaius replied angrily.
"In don't want to!" Merlin shouted. "If I can't use magic, what have I got?" He paused, and took a deep breath to calm himself. "I'm just a nobody. And I always will be. If I can't use magic . . . I might as well die." And that was really how he felt. Magic wasn't just a skill, or a hobby – it was a part of him. Like another sense. It was the only thing about him that set him apart from all the other awkward, gangly boy his age. He turned around and walked into his room, closing the door behind him.
Gaius watched, unsure what to do. Perhaps he hadn't fully comprehended before just how much magic meant to the boy. Yes, it would be incredibly hard to just let it go. He had found it hard himself and he hadn't been born with it . . .
He made up his mind and, remembering the blood, gathered a few things together in his bag and opened Merlin's door. "Merlin?" He found the boy lying face down on his bed, looking weary. "Sit up," he said. "Take your shirt off."
Merlin sat up with a sigh and pulled the red cloth over his head as Gaius sat next to him. "You don't know why I was born like this, do you?"
"No," Gaius answered. He reached across and began to dab a wet cloth over Merlin's bloody shoulder, attempting to clean it.
Merlin smiled humourlessly. "I'm not a monster, am I?"
Gaius stopped cleaning the wound and turned to face Merlin seriously. "Don't ever think that."
"Then why am I like this?" Merlin asked, desperate for an answer. "Please. I need to know why."
Gaius shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe there's someone with more knowledge than me," he suggested.
But Merlin shook his head, disappointed. "If you can't tell me, no one can."
There was a silence and Gaius watched the boy anxiously. Finally, he fumbled in his bag and extracted a bottle. "Take this," he said, handing it to Merlin. "It will help with the pain."
Merlin took it, glanced at the contents and downed it before handing it back. He made a face. It wasn't exactly the most tasty medicine he'd ever had. Gaius patted his leg comfortingly and gathered his things together before leaving him be. Merlin didn't move for a long time, brooding over the last few days.
Uther and his guest were dining in the hall that evening alone. Morgana and Arthur were nowhere to be seen, neither particularly elated by the cause of the celebration for which the Lady Helen was invited. Uther sipped his wine and smiled on his guest pleasantly. "Will you sing for me tonight?"
"You will have to wait, sire," Lady Helen smiled.
"You will not deny me," Uther protested with amusement.
"I am saving myself for my performance tomorrow," Lady Helen firmly established. "Will everyone be there?" she asked.
Uther's eyebrows rose as he took another swig from his goblet. "Who would dare to miss it?"
"How about your son?" Lady Helen smiled. "It seems a shame not to have met him."
"That's Arthur, I'm afraid."
Lady Helen gazed at Uther for a moment, who was blissfully unaware of the revenge she was planning. "Poor child," she murmured. Her quarrel was not with him – he had not done wrong. But then, neither had her son.
"Hm?" Uther glanced up from his dinner.
Lady Helen, realising she had spoken aloud, said quickly, "Poor child. It can't have been easy to grow up without a mother."
Uther shook his head, not having noticed the slip. "No."
"Hm." Lady Helen paused, mulling over her words. "That bond between mother and son – it's so hard to replace."
"It hasn't been easy," Uther agreed.
"I'm sure." They shared a smile and Lady Helen attempted to lighten the mood. "Perhaps if you found someone," she suggested. "If you remarried. I'm sure you'd have the pick of any maiden in the kingdom."
Uther smiled. "Well, perhaps I will find love again." He lifted his goblet to his lips. "But I'm afraid it's too late to replace Arthur's mother."
"Yes," Lady Helen agreed with a significant smile. "It's certainly too late for Arthur."
"Merlin."Merlin's eyes snapped open. "Merlin." He sat up, tossing aside his covers. After a moment of indecision he swung his legs over the side of his bed and pulled on his boots. Slipping on his coat he crept out of his room and into the main room of Gaius' chambers.
Gaius was snoring gently in his bed, sound asleep. Merlin took a deep breath, and marched towards the door. As he passed a table, he knocked into a jug and it fell with a clatter onto the floor. Merlin froze as the snoring stopped. He slowly glanced towards Gaius' prostrate form. However, the old man simple muttered something and turned over only to begin snoring again.
Merlin sighed with relief. He did not particularly want to deal with Gaius' questions right now. With an affectionate smile at the old man, he used his magic to pull the covers back over his shoulders, to keep him warm.
"Merlin," the voice in his head repeated. Merlin crossed the courtyard with a casual smile at passing guards. He remembered the story Gaius had told him at lunch, after he'd been in the stocks. He had a theory – and he was about to test it. He entered the prison and hastened down the stairs, then paused as he saw some guards below in the torch-lit room. They were sat at a table playing dice.
Merlin wasn't quite sure whether what he was doing was illegal or not, but he wasn't about to find out, either. He watched the guards for a moment, then an idea came to him. The next time they threw the dice, he focused his magic and they flew off the table and onto the floor. The guards looked at each other for a moment in confusion. Then one got up and moved towards the dice. Just before he grabbed them, Merlin's eyes flashed gold again and the dice skipped away another few steps. Repeating this action, Merlin got them far enough away that they wouldn't notice if he passed and made his way down to the dungeon.
He skipped down the last staircase to the room and grabbed a torch off a bracket before descending the final steps.
"Merlin." The voice seemed louder now. More persistent. Merlin continued walking down the stairs, feeling wary now that he was close to his destination. "Merlin." The stairs stopped and Merlin found himself in a tunnel. It was clearly old and definitely unused, with broken rocks and pieces of wood stacked messily against the walls and huge, thick cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. He followed the tunnel around a corner and found to his amazement a huge open cave. The tunnel broke off onto a small ledge. His torch seemed suddenly very dim and very small in the big, dark space. He could hear water dripping far away in the cave. "Merlin." He had found it, he was sure – the source of this voice in his mind.
Suddenly he heard a deep-throated laughing somewhere close by. It was the same voice, but this time it was no longer in his mind. "Where are you?" he shouted into the open space. A huge beast came rushing out of the darkness, creating a cold and startling wind at Merlin. He stepped back, shocked, as the beast slowed and landed on a mound of rock a short distance in front of the ledge.
"I am here," the voice said again and Merlin saw that it was a huge dragon, four times his height and with big, magnificent golden wings. Merlin shifted backwards, shocked and wary. The dragon tilted its golden head and studied Merlin, settling back on the rocks comfortably. "How small you are for such a great destiny," it said.
Merlin swallowed hard, but as the dragon could have easily plucked him off the ledge by now and indeed showed no sign of wanting to hurt him, calmed a little. "Why?" he said, plucking up the courage. For his curiosity was stronger than his fear. "What do you mean? What destiny?"
The dragon crouched lower and stared penetratingly at him as he answered. "Your gift, Merlin, was given to you for a reason."
Merlin felt a wave of something pass through him. Though not entirely surprised, he was relieved and awed to find the answer to a question he had been asking himself all his life. "So there is a reason," he breathed.
The dragon's lips curled back in an unsettling manner and Merlin realised he was smiling with amusement. "Arthur is the Once and Future King, who will unite the land of Albion," he began.
Merlin frowned, feeling annoyance at the mere mention of Arthur's name. What did this matter to him? Telling himself to be patient, he waited. "Right . . ."
"But he faces many threats from friend and foe alike," the dragon continued.
"I don't see what this has to do with me," Merlin began angrily. Why can't you just give me some answers? He thought.
"Everything!" The dragon said. "Without you, Arthur will never succeed. Without you, there will be no Albion."
"No." Merlin shook his head in disbelief. "No, you've got this wrong."
"There is no right or wrong, child," the dragon said in amusement. "Only what is and what isn't."
"But I'm serious," Merlin protested. "If anyone want to kill him, they can go ahead. In fact I'd give them a hand!"
The dragon laughed. "None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin. And none of us can escape it."
Merlin looked at the dragon incredulously. "No. No way, no. No. There must be another Arthur because this one's an idiot."
"Perhaps it's your destiny to change that," the dragon smiled. He stretched and straightened on his perch, then without warning lifted his wings and began to fly away.
"Wait," cried Merlin, startled. "Wait! Wait, stop! I need to know more!" But the dragon ignored him and continued flying upwards. In a few seconds he was gone, leaving only a huge, thick chain reaching up to him. Merlin stood there for a moment feeling deeply frustrated. He was in no way satisfied with this new information. Protect Arthur? Why the hell would he do that?
Merlin's bedroom door opened and Gaius walked in, almost tripping over the mess on the floor. "Hoy!" he cried and Merlin jumped awake in his bed. "Have you seen the state of this room?" Gaius demanded, indicating the various garments and belongings scattered everywhere. Merlin was not naturally a very tidy person. He smiled sheepishly and shrugged.
"It just happens."
"By magic?"
"Uh, yeah." Merlin replied.
"Yes," Gaius smiled condescendingly. "Well, you can clear it up without magic." He tossed a pair of trousers at Merlin and manoeuvred his way closer. "Then you can get me some herbs." Merlin sat up and tried to give his full attention to the man. "Henbane, wormwood and sorrel. And deliver this to Morgana," Gaius said, holding a small bottle. "Poor girl's suffering from nightmares." He stooped and tossed another garment at Merlin before leaving.
"Hm," Merlin yawned. "I know the feeling."
Morgana's rooms were on the top floor, close to Arthur's. Merlin found her door open and he stepped in, looking about him. Morgana was standing at a full-length mirror and, hearing Merlin enter the room, she turned away and crossed to the other side of the room. Merlin's jaw dropped as he saw her. She was by far the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with her pale slender body, dark ringleted hair and extravagent clothes.
"You know, I've been thinking about Arthur. I wouldn't touch him with a lance pole." She stepped behind a partition. "Pass me that dress, will you, Gwen?" Merlin froze. He could hear Morgana begin to undress behind the partition. Oh, crap, he thought. "I mean, the man's a total jouster. Just because I'm the King's ward, that doesn't mean I have to accompany him to the feast, does it?" Merlin put the potion on a table, picked up the dress and flung it over the partition. "Well, does it?" Morgana demanded.
"Mm-mm," Merlin grunted in as feminine a tone as possible. He glanced about in desperation. Crap, crap, crap.
"If he wants me to go, then he should invite me. He hasn't. Know what that means?"
"Mm-mm," Merlin said again. This is so painful.
Morgana looked up, clearly irritated by her servant's limited response. "Where are you?" she peered over the top of the partition.
"Here," Merlin squeaked, quickly holding a nearby cape up in front of him.
Morgana frowned, then continued dressing. "It means I'm going by myself." Merlin sighed, dropped the cape and turned to make his escape. Morgana's voice stopped him before he'd gone two steps. "I need some help with this fastening." Merlin froze. Oh, crap, now what am I going to do? "Gwen?"
"I'm here," Gwen said. Merlin whirled around and spotted the servant girl in the doorway. She raised her eyebrows at him. He sighed with relief and quickly whispered in her ear. Gwen grinned and nodded at him. She watched as Merlin left, feeling her heart flutter unexpectedly. She turned and went to hep her mistress finish dressing behind the partition, still smiling from her encounter.
"So," Morgana continued, oblivious to Merlin's presence at all, she went back to her mirror. "It's whether I wear this little tease . . ." she admired her reflection for a moment, then grabbed another dress off a chair, "or whether I give them a night they'll really remember." She gave Gwen a significant look and servant girl laughed.
A young serving girl made her way through the palace, carrying a basket full of fresh fruit. She arrived at Lady Helen's door and knocked. The guest opened the door and the serving girl smiled with delight. "Lady Helen," she said and held out the basket. "Compliments of the King."
Lady Helen smiled at the pretty serving girl and held the door open. "Come in."
The serving girl laid the basket on the table and busied herself tidying little things up here and there.
Lady Helen sat down, picked up an apple and stared it in amusement. "So sweet. How will I ever repay him?"
"Oh, when he hears you sing," the girl said, beaming as she went about her job. "That will be more than enough, won't it?" She knelt down to light the fire and glanced back at the lady as she spoke. "I'm really looking forward to the performance."
"So am I," Lady Helen took a bite out of the apple, and stood up, wandering away.
"I love singing, you know," the girl continued and began to tidy the table. "I sing all the time. My betrothed says I have the voice of a fallen angel." She reached across and pulled the rough cloth off the mirror. Lady Helen looked around, startled and both women stared at the reflection of Mary Collins. The serving girl looked around in horror, then quickly made for the door, her heart hammering. But as she passed Lady Helen reached out and gripped her wrist. The serving girl gasped and gave her a terrified look.
"Shh," Lady Helen whispered, staring at the girl coldly and keeping her grip on her wrist. The serving girl moaned and all the colour seemed to drain out of her, along with her life. She slowly crumpled and lay on the floor, all the light gone from her pretty face.
Lady Helen turned back to the mirror and Mary Collin's face. Tonight she would have her revenge.
The hall was full of excited and chattering guests for the feast that evening. Gaius led Merlin through the crowd, nodding now and then at certain courtiers. Merlin glanced about him in delight, at the many burning candles and servants in their smart livery and the richly decorated banners. There were three tables – two large ones along each side of the hall, and a shorter one at the end to seat the King and his family. Merlin tensed when he caught sight of Arthur in a corner, laughing with his friends. But all at once the laughter stopped, as a figure entered the room. The Lady Morgana walked in, wearing a beautiful red dress and jewels in her hair. She looked stunning as she walked past Arthur's group, giving them a small smile.
"God have mercy," Arthur whispered, awed by the sight of her. Though they did not get on all the time, she did look spectacular at this particular moment.
Arthur and his friends were not the only ones staring at her. Merlin watched her walk past with open-mouthed wonderment. Gaius noticed and elbowed him in the side. "Merlin! Remember you're here to work."
Merlin nodded, but as soon as Gaius turned away, he looked for Morgana again. She was standing, talking to a courtier, then Arthur stepped out of the crowd to claim her attention. Merlin scowled.
"She looks great, doesn't she?" Gwen appeared at his side, staring at Morgana with pride. She had spent a good deal of time doing her hair.
Merlin's eyes slid back to Morgana and he smiled appreciatively. "Yeah."
"Some people are just born to be queen," Gwen continued.
Merlin's head snapped back to Gwen, who was pouring a cup of wine for a guest. "No," he exclaimed.
Gwen looked up, surprised. "I hope so, one day." Merlin began to move away and Gwen moved after him, desperate to reclaim his attention. "Not that I'd want to be her. I mean, who'd want to marry Arthur?"
Merlin grinned back at her. "Oh come on, Gwen. I thought you liked those real rough-tough-save-the-world kind of men."
"No," Gwen said quickly. "I like much more ordinary men like you."
Merlin laughed and righted a cup on the table. "Gwen, believe me – I'm not ordinary."
"No, I didn't mean you!" she hastily amended. Merlin turned to her and raised his eyebrows. Gwen swallowed. "Obviously. Not you. But just . . . you know, I like much more ordinary men. Like you."
"Thanks," Merlin said in amusement.
Gwen looked at him and bit her lip, unsure whether she had saved herself or not. She hadn't been trying to make it obvious she liked him. And it hadn't been obvious – had it?
Two men began to blow regal sounding horns and guests hastily went to stand by their seats, whilst the servants arranged themselves around the edge of the hall.
The King entered the hall and strode down the middle towards the end table where Morgana and Arthur were already waiting. He paused in front of his table and turned to smile pleasurably at his guests. "We have enjoyed 20 years of peace and prosperity," he announced. "It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures. But few can compare with the honour of introducing . . . Lady Helen of Mora!" Guests began clapping and Uther went to sit down between his son and ward.
At the opposite end of the hall stood Lady Helen in a yellow gown, looking beautiful and elegant. As the clapping died down and people made to sit, she began to sing. Her words were strange and mysterious and her tone perfectly mellifluous. Her voice filled the hall, reaching every guest and every servant with ease as she began to move down the middle of the hall. There was complete silence as her audience listened, entranced. They began to feel lighter, somehow, with the sound of her voice, and perfectly content. At the end table, Arthur's eyelids began to fall and the King ceased to smile, but closed his eyes tiredly. All around, servants and guests alike began to droop and heads began to fall on tables and each other, as every person began to fall asleep. Merlin, where he stood to the side of the end table, saw this, and alarm filled him. He himself was not particularly affected, but he did not want to fall into this unnatural sleep. He put his hands on his ears, trying to shut out the sound of Lady Helen's voice.
As the last of the guests fell asleep the candles began to blow out and the room grew darker and colder. On the tables, over sleeping heads cobwebs began to snake and grow until they were thick and old-looking. Lady Helen, now half-way down the hall continued singing in that same powerful way and did not notice the servant boy standing to the right of Arthur's chair. Her eyes were trained on the Prince, slumped in his chair, and Merlin looked between the two of them, wondering what she wanted. Lady Helen drew out a dagger suddenly, not pausing in her singing. Her voice got louder and higher as she trained her eyes on her victim and lifted the dagger high in the air to throw at him. Merlin glanced around desperately, acting by instinct and, looking up and seeing a great chandelier hanging above the woman's head, broke the chain it hung from with his magic and watched as it fell. Lady Helen, hearing the crack, looked up in horror as it fell on her and she slumped to the ground, her singing silenced.
Merlin took his hands experimentally away from his ears, and hearing no music, began to look about him. After a moment people began to stir. The guests at the tables began to push the thick cobwebs out of their hair and sit up properly. Uther looked about him and, seeing the candles gone out and the cobwebs, stood up in shock. Lying under the weight of a huge chandelier in the centre of the hall was Lady Helen. Only . . . it was not Lady Helen at all. It was Mary Collins who was felled by the chandelier and it was Mary Collins who began to painfully raise her head to stare at the King. She did not know why she had failed, but she knew that she had to take her revenge if she could. It was the least she could do for Thomas. So, lifting a wrinkled hand, she held back the dagger and then hurled it at the Prince. As people watched the dagger fly towards the Prince with horror, Merlin's eyes flashed gold and, gaining the time he needed, he ran forwards, grabbed Arthur's shoulders and hauled him out of the way. Both boys fell onto the floor and watched as the blade sunk into the back of Arthur's chair. Mary, seeing that she had failed, drew her last breath and sagged onto the stone floor. Uther marched towards the two boys, who were now on their feet. Merlin was standing awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. What the hell just happened?
"You saved my boy's life," the King said, almost in answer to Merlin's unspoken question. Yeah, thanks for reminding me, he thought dryly. He smiled sheepishly. "A debt must be repaid," the King continued.
"Oh . . ." Merlin blushed and shook his head. "Well . . ."
"Don't be so modest. You shall be rewarded."
"No, honestly, you don't have to," Merlin protested.
"No, absolutely!" the King broke in, still obviously shaken by the nearness of his son's death. "This merits something quite special."
Merlin shrugged and resigned himself to being rewarded. "Well . . ." If he wants to, who am I to stop him?
"You will be awarded a position in the royal household." The King clapped a hand on his son's shoulder and looked between the two boys. "You shall be Prince Arthur's manservant." Thus said, he strode away to inspect the hag who had attempted to murder his son.
Merlin felt like a thunderbolt had struck him WHAT?! Next to him he heard Arthur's much more dignified protest of, "Father?!"
Around the hall, relieved guests began clapping and cheering the saving of their Prince's life. Merlin, feeling a little comforted first at Arthur's mortified expression, and second at the awe of everyone else, began to smile. Arthur looked away from him in disgust. Merlin inspected him for a moment then, nope. Not an ounce of gratitude in there,he thought, feeling even better.
Later that night Merlin was sitting in his room, going over the events of the feast in his mind. So. Lady Helen was the old woman from the first day he had arrived. It made sense, really. She had promised to take her revenge before the celebrations were over. And the strange things in her room . . . they made a little more sense now. He wondered what the book was. And then there was his new job! Servant to Prince Arthur? Some reward. Away from Arthur's appalled face, he was beginning to feel a little miffed again. How did that work out?
The door opened and he looked up to see Gaius come in, holding some sort of a bundle. The old man smiled almost proudly at him. "It seems you're a hero."
"Hard to believe isn't it?" Merlin grinned up at him.
"No," Gaius shook his head. "I knew it from the moment I met you." Merlin's smile dropped as he took in Gaius' serious expression. "You saved my life, remember?"
"But that was magic," Merlin said, raising his eyebrows.
Gaius nodded with pleasure. "And now it seems we've finally found a use for it."
Merlin frowned at him. "What do you mean?"
"I saw how you saved Arthur's life." Gaius said, looking at him significantly. Merlin straightened and scowled as he realised what he was saying. "Perhaps that's its purpose." Gaius pressed.
Merlin sighed and looked away. "My destiny," he murmured, remembering the dragon's words.
Gaius gave him a surprised look. "Indeed." There was a pause, then Gaius held out the bundle he was carrying. "This book was given to me when I was your age." Merlin stood up and peered closer. "But I have a feeling it will be of more use to you than it was to me."
Merlin took the it and unwrapped the deep red cloth covering it. It's cover was the same as the book he had found in Lady Helen's room. He looked up at Gaius uncertainly, but the old man's expression betrayed nothing. Merlin unclasped and opened the book, turning over the pages. They were beautifully written, with huge hold lettering here and there. There were many notes and papers falling out of it, holding similar writing. "But this is a book of magic," he breathed, running his fingers over the old pages.
"Which is why you must keep it hidden," Gaius replied.
"I will study every word," Merlin exclaimed in gratification.
Gaius nodded and smiled. Just then there was a knock on the outer door, and a man's voice called through. "Merlin! Prince Arthur wants you right away."
"Your destiny's calling," Gaius said sternly, mouth twitching. "You'd better find out what he wants." Merlin rolled his eyes, but nodded and put the book down before striding out of his room. Giving Gaius one last look over his shoulder, he made his way out of the room to go and serve Prince Arthur of Camelot's every whim. Oh, the joys of being of the lower class.