Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.
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The tousled-haired young man groaned and cautiously opened indigo eyes. He was lying on his belly in a recess at the base of a shallow embankment. His shoulder was touching a motionless figure - Arthur - whom he had earlier dragged and shoved into the alcove before crawling in after him and passing out himself. Although he was close enough to hear him breathing, he fumbled for the blonde's wrist to feel for his pulse. It felt reassuringly strong.
"Arthur?" There was no response. He resisted the urge to shake the prince; they seemed to be in no immediate danger. Merlin took mental stock of himself. His head hurt, his vision was blurred, and a deep cut caused a stinging pain to shoot down one arm. He could feel warm and sticky blood soaking into his sleeve. He was starting to feel light-headed, and he closed his eyes. It was just for a few minutes he told himself.
The warlock had done an excellent job concealing himself and his friend. Sir Leon and the knights hadn't even slowed when they galloped past on the riding path above them.
Three days earlier
Merlin walked out to the stables in the early morning chill. It was early October, and the days were getting shorter and cooler. The prince had sent him out to make sure their horses were being saddled with all reasonable haste. They were departing early on the king's business and would be joined enroute by Gwaine and Lancelot. Inside the stables, the raven-haired young man saw his chestnut, Orion, being saddled and a second horse, one he'd never seen before, being led out of its stall. It was the color of freshly churned butter with a thick platinum mane and tail both of which fell in waves nearly to the ground.
"Where's Prince Arthur's horse?" Merlin asked a stable hand, an older man with lank gray hair.
"This one here," the stable hand replied, with a nod at the strange horse. "It was delivered last night. Special for the prince the man said."
Arthur hadn't mentioned getting a new horse, Merlin thought. Wonder if he even knows about it. There were several odd aspects to this. For one, it was pouring down rain last night. Someone wanted the prince to have this horse badly enough to get drenched.
"The one who delivered the horse. Did you know him?" Merlin asked.
"Naw, never saw him before." The older man was getting antsy, wanting to get back to work. What did it matter if he knew the person delivering the horse?
"Could you describe him for me?" Merlin persisted. He walked closer to the horse as he spoke, raising one hand to stroke the white blaze that ran down its velvet nose. His hand paused a few inches from touching already knowing what he would find.
"Couldn't see much of him," the man said, with a huff of impatience. "He had a hood over his head. On account of the rain."
Yeah, that would be the reason, Merlin thought. He stroked the horse as it watched him with intelligence in its clear amber eyes. He could see Arthur approaching in his peripheral vision.
"What's this? I have a new horse? Splendid!" the blonde said, with enthusiasm. He reached out to pat the horse's mane. Merlin could feel the magic spiraling out to encircle the prince. The horse was enchanting in every sense of the word.
"Um, Arthur, we're going to be gone for several days. Maybe you should ride a horse you're already familiar with. Ride Pyramus."
"Nonsense! Pyramus could use the rest after trekking nearly to the Seas of Meredor," the prince replied. "And the Giants' Dance," he added in a softer tone, with a sideward glance at Merlin. To the stablehand: "What's his name?"
"The man said his name was Asterion, your highness."
Ruler of the stars, Merlin thought. How appropriate.
Later that afternoon
Arthur and his three companions, traveling incognito, had soon fallen in with a noble from a neighboring kingdom and his party. Arthur was passing himself off as a minor noble, 'Alexander,' on a scouting mission for the king of Camelot. Although the prince wore no golden dragons stitched on red backgrounds, the clothes he wore were expensive and well-made. The shirt his servant had dressed him in that morning was royal blue, deepening the color of his eyes; over it was a dark blue coat which fell mid-thigh. Tucked out of sight beneath his clothing was a silver chain from which dangled a silver dragon. Merlin was aware of its presence since he more-or-less dressed him, but he made no move to dissuade him. The necklace had belonged to the prince's mother, Ygraine.
Ever since Arthur had learned of his magic, Merlin had taken to secreting gemstones and charms with protective properties on the prince's person to the latter's amusement. Currently Arthur wore a woven bracelet threaded through with an amethyst, a yellow citrine, and a malachite gemstone on his left wrist. Personally, the blonde young man thought it a bit silly, but it seemed harmless, and it made his friend happy.
Late evening
Alarm bells went off in Merlin's head. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Lord Radborne's servant knew who Arthur was. The man was obsequious to the point of near reverence, and if no one had noticed it yet, it was just because they weren't paying attention. It was a matter of time. The servant had actually bowed when serving him earlier. Arthur was so used to people treating him with deference that it probably hadn't even registered. Merlin resolved to speak to the man privately at the first opportunity. He saw his chance in the evening when the man went to fill up water skins for Lord Radborne and his men. Merlin grabbed some mostly full water skins from where Gwaine and Lancelot had stowed their gear (earning him a quizzical look from the latter) and quickly followed. He threaded his way through the quaking aspens and juniper pine to where the stream bubbled and gurgled over small pebbles and knelt a few feet from the other servant.
"Oh, hello," Merlin said, adopting a friendly tone. "You are - Zenas?" At the other's nod, the dark-haired young man continued, "I'm Merlin. I wanted to talk to you. It seems as if you -" Merlin paused. He needed to be careful. There was a small chance he was wrong. "You have seen my - master before?"
"I saw him at a tournament in Camelot."
Not wrong then. "Yes, about that. The way you are treating him is calling attention to him or it will in time. He wishes not to be recognized."
Zenas stopped what he was doing and sat back on the ground. He looked at the warlock curiously. "Why is he traveling with only three companions? It is unsafe."
"If no one recognizes him, he's safe enough. Besides, the rest of Arthur's knights will be joining up with us in a day or two. There have been reports of goblins rampaging through King Melwas' kingdom and headed for our borders. We've been asking around, trying to verify those reports." Merlin hesitated. "You haven't said anything to Lord Radborne?"
"I tried to. I asked to have a few words with him in private. He told me I didn't know my place," Zenas said, affronted.
Thank God for arrogant noblemen, Merlin thought. "And now?"
"I will say nothing, I promise you," the servant said, with a grim smile.
"Thank you," Merlin replied, relieved.
When Merlin returned to the campsite, Arthur was explaining to Lord Radborne about unsubstantiated reports of goblins headed in the direction of Camelot. "The king has heard reports that these goblins are quite large. Some of them man-size."
"Peasant fairy tales more likely, Alexander," the noble snorted. "Meant to scare the children into keeping to their beds at night." Although privileged since birth, with an ingrained sense of entitlement, Radborne was not thoughtlessly cruel. He was not well-loved by his servants, but even they would attest that they were well-fed and their basic needs met.
Merlin replaced the water skins by Gwaine's and Lance's gear. He walked over to check if the goblet Arthur was holding needed more wine. He did this by grabbing hold of the prince's wrist and tilting his hand slightly. Zenas stared. He couldn't have fathomed behaving in a similar manner with Lord Radborne.
"That's enough for me, Merlin," Arthur said, absently. To the noble: "Don't be so quick to scoff, Lord Radborne. The creatures are said to have cut a wide path of destruction across the kingdom of Somerset. Word has reached my - the king they have attacked village after village, wantonly killing and injuring humans and animals alike."
"And King Uther is concerned with the events in Somerset?"
"Very much so. These creatures are not known to respect borders," Arthur said, grimly. "And early reports are that they are headed in our general direction."
"If all this is true, what is King Melwas himself doing to stop this?" The noble glanced in his servant's direction with a slight shake of his goblet. Zenas hurried to refill it.
"The king's nephew, Captain Benarik, has been chasing the horde across their kingdom with a large number of trained warriors. I've met the man on several occasions at tournaments in Camelot." Arthur happened to glance at his servant as he spoke. Merlin gave a slight shake of his head. Be careful.
"He's a good man," Arthur concluded. "Competent, no-nonsense type."
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Some distance away, Captain Benarik, the man under discussion, was well aware that in his zeal to track down and kill the goblins, he and his men had strayed over the border onto Pendragon land. Hating bright sunlight, the vile creatures were attacking only at night. He had lost none of his men so far due not to any particular skill on their part but on the simple fact that they had yet to engage.
a/n: The goblins in this story are more similar to the orcs in LOTR than they are to the small, mischievous creature in 3.3.
a/n: This story contains a number of original characters from my previous stories.