Oh. You're back. *suspicious glance*

;)

Wow, 9 alerts and 5 favourites on the first day alone. Now it's 10 faves and 24 alerts, and it's in a Community! That's mighty impressive! Mille grazie, amici ...I guess my warnings attract you people, like my sister to blueberries, not deter you.


~2~ Prats and Idiots

Gaius was an old man, but he could keep the weakened servant lying still – until Arthur entered the room, anyway.

Merlin was on his feet like a spring. "Arthur, there's something I must—"

"Lie down, boy!" Gaius snapped. "And stay down!"

The servant easily pulled away from the physician's restraints and stumbled towards the king. His words came out in a rush. "—IgottoEaldorjustasalwaysbut—"

"Merlin! Merlin, slow down!" Arthur raised his hands, overwhelmed.

The youth snapped his teeth shut, shook his head as though impatient with himself, and sighed deeply. "I came to Ealdor over a week ago, but when I arrived, all I found was a ghost town."

Arthur reacted to this, his gaze flicking to the servant from its focus on nowhere. "A ghost town."

"Yeah, everyone was gone. Nothing but a dog and some chickens."

"...Your mother?"

Pain could not have been clearer in the sapphire eyes. "She's gone, too."

"What were the...conditions...of the town?"

"There were definite signs of struggle," said Merlin, wavering slightly where he stood. "I looked everywhere for tracks, but..." He frowned. "Eventually, I did find one sign." He started to fall limply.

Arthur lunged forward to catch him. "You'd best sit down."

"'M all right," Merlin slurred.

"No, you're not; your knees are shaking."

"There's just 'n earthquake, can't you feel it?"

With Gaius's help, the king manoeuvred the servant into a chair.

"Perhaps it would be best if he just rested, sire," said Gaius seriously.

"No, wait, I must finish," Merlin insisted, trying to sit up. "There was one indication that revealed where the slavers had gone."

"You think they were slavers?" asked Arthur, a hand on Merlin's shoulder to keep him still.

The servant shook his head. "What I saw...What I saw when I followed them..."

The king was surprised to hear Merlin's voice crack, and nearly break down altogether.

"There was no broken forest around Ealdor," Merlin continued forcefully after clearing his throat. "The only way they could have gone was along the road. But there were no tracks in the dust, no wheel trails, not even horse droppings. I was doubtful that rain had washed them all away; the road was splitting from being so dry. Rain hadn't come for weeks.

"I followed the road for several miles. I grew doubtful, and nearly gave up to return here, when I saw signs at last." He sighed. "Perhaps they had grown careless, for I saw a trail break through foliage, leading to a new road entirely. At first, I believed it simply to be an animal track, but then I found a quiver of forgotten crossbow bolts. I knew that it was my best shot, so I followed.

"For a few days I tracked them, losing them once in a while, but always deeper west, into Cenred's country." Again, Arthur reacted to the words.

"Go on," he said.

"I came to a tree-topped knoll, looking towards the Ridged Mountains. At the foot of them, I could see a castle being built."

"How big was it?"

"Big, and clearly going to get bigger. It was also clear that it wasn't free, willing workers building those walls."

Arthur's heart clenched. "What do you mean?"

The servant paused, and shuddered. "I could hear the whips and screams from a mile away. They were slaves, all of them." This time, Merlin had to hold back tears. "Now all of Ealdor, my mother..." He raised his hands to cover his face. "There was nothing I could do! I..."

"It's all right, Merlin," Gaius reassured, grasping the servant's shoulder.

"What happened then?" demanded the king, not unsympathetically.

"I fled. I rode as fast as I could, but ran into slavers along the way." He uncovered his face, and instead of fear or sorrow, there was angry vengeance in his eyes. "I lost the horse but managed to escape them. I returned here." He hesitated. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"Sorry? I can tell you where to shove your 'sorry!'" Arthur snapped. "Priorities, idiot! Do you think you could you lead us to that castle?"

"Definitely. Prat."

"Good." The king ignored the comeback. "Now stay here and rest. That's an order."

۞ Ӂ ۞

"Surely, he must be mistaken," said Agravaine. "Or even lying to excuse his lateness."

"Merlin wouldn't lie." Arthur stared out a stained glass window in his chambers, deep in thought. "Especially not about something like this."

"But how is it possible for slavers to kidnap so many villagers without leaving any tracks?" asked the adviser, standing back near the table.

"I don't know," the king replied, and stepped away from the window. "Except for one possible reason."

"And that is, sire?"

"Sorcery."

Agravaine stared, and then snorted, but not impolitely. "I very much doubt that a filthy slaver could have such power."

"Oh, and why's that?"

Agravaine didn't have an answer.

۞ Ӂ ۞

"I can't believe you actually managed to get back all the way to Camelot, Merlin."

"What do you mean?" asked the warlock, trotting his horse up besides the king's.

"You'd have had to travel for days by horse, and then longer without one. I didn't think you had that endurance in you."

"Endurance, or terrified desperation?" said Gwaine, grinning mischievously behind the pair. Merlin glowered at him.

"In fact, I'm surprised you even found Camelot again," Arthur continued, an obviously-false expression of astonishment on his face. "What with the last time you wandered around in these woods, you—" He held up his fingers in quotations: "'got lost, tripped and knocked yourself out.' Remember?"

"Vividly," Merlin said flatly.

By nightfall, Merlin judged a forth day's ride would bring them to the castle. They were travelling slowly, cautiously, as to avoid detection; it was Cenred's old kingdom, after all, and though the mendacious man was three years dead, his son was said to be of no golden heart either. The company of a dozen would be considered a war party, and they doubted Cenred's descendant would let them pass unchallenged if they were caught.

"You're worried."

"What?" Merlin jumped at the sound of Arthur's voice, tearing his gaze from the evening campfire's heart.

The king came by and sat beside him. "You haven't said a word since this afternoon, and you've been chewing your lip. Something is bothering you."

"Oh, uh, maybe it's because my mother's been enslaved by monsters. I'm sorry if my concern for her is bothering you."

Arthur bit his tongue and let the servant's understandable insolence pass. "I know what it's like to lose a parent."

"She's not dead."

"I never said she was, Merlin. Just listen."

The warlock simply wrapped a blanket closer around his shoulders and returned to staring into the glowing embers, all the while wishing the king would go away and leave him alone.

"It's hard, I know. She's family. You love her. But you mustn't give up hope."

"I haven't given up hope!"

Arthur stared at him, and then sighed, standing. "Fine. Have it your way. Idiot."

"Prat."

The king shook his head and departed.

۞ Ӂ ۞

They left the horses late the next evening as they neared the knoll where Merlin had spied on the forming castle. The servant had not exaggerated – they could hear the cracks of whips and howls of suffering from there.

"The soul of man can be colder than a blizzard's," said Sir Elyan gravely, shaking his head.

The city was vast, three miles long at least. There was a massive citadel to the northeast, and several mansions creeping up the mountainside. Much was still to be constructed within the walls surrounding the city.

Arthur, crouched in the grass with his troops at the knoll's peak, turned to glance behind him, and saw Merlin on his knees, holding his ears. "We've seen enough here," he said, and signalled the retreat. "We shall return to Camelot and deal with this immediately." He hadn't thought the issue to be this bad. He wished that they had brought the proper resources with them, so they could handle the situation more swiftly.

The king fell back behind everyone and stood near where Merlin still remained crouched, ears covered. He resisted the urge to help him stand, and instead nudged him with his boot.

"Come on, Merlin. There's nothing we can do here right now."

It was a temptation to let the servant try to mount his horse after forgetting to tighten the girth, but the Pendragon king knew that this was not the moment to amuse himself or his men. At any other time, Merlin would shake it off and even laugh at it himself later on, but not now, not after what he had been through.

"Merlin, wait." Arthur halted the servant from putting his foot in the stirrup, before bending over and tightening the saddle girth himself. "As much as I need a laugh right now, I figure that you wouldn't take it well if you were the source of it."

No reply.

"'Oh, gee, thanks, your highness,'" said Arthur in a singsong voice, turning towards his own roan stallion. "'I greatly appreciate it.'"

Still no reply as the servant mounted and fell into position.

They risked a quick canter for a couple hours on the road back. Night was falling fast, but they wanted a defensible area to camp in.

"We shall not risk a fire, either," said Arthur, and almost tasted the disgruntlement from the men. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid our safety is a bit more of a priority than hot water right now."

"Sire." Sir Leon, riding just behind the king, pointed to a figure lying on the side of the road several paces off.

Arthur abruptly raised a clenched fist, and might as well have shouted, "Company, halt!" for the efficiency that the party stopped.

He signed, "hold here," scanning the forest around them. Then he dismounted, as did Merlin, but a brief signal ordered the servant to stay his ground.

He constantly glanced from side to side, up the surrounding tree-peppered slopes, as he approached the motionless figure in the ditch, ten paces away. He resisted the urge to draw his sword in precaution. By the shape's long hair, it was probably a woman. "Madam?" He stepped ever closer, and saw that she was dead.

Because the rapid footsteps behind him were so unexpected, he was too slow to turn around before something slammed into him and knocked him sprawling. At the same time, there was a loud cracking sound, a whoosh of air and an astonished yelp.

In less than a moment, Arthur log-rolled and drew his sword as he sprang to his feet. There was no one but his startled knights and soldiers behind him, yet there was something above him.

"What the—?"

Merlin was entangled in a suspended net, ten feet above the road where Arthur had nearly stepped seconds before.

Merlin struggled in the woven ropes. "It's a trap! Look—"

His voice was drowned out by squealing horses and bellowing men. Arthur saw three men fall inexplicably from the saddles, clutching their necks. Others, charging to defend their king, were helpless as a line was pulled taunt across the road and their horses were tripped, sending the riders flying. The last of them were entangled in rope or chain nets, dropped from overhead.

Arthur snapped free of his shock and immediately roared orders into the chaos, but throwing a twig into a raging sea would have had more effect. Matters only worsened as the composers of the ambush broke howling from cover and charged down the slopes on either side of the road. They tackled those still in the saddle and dragged them to the ground. The men of Camelot were helpless – the swiftness and preciseness of the ambush was impressive, and unfortunately successful.

It took three slavers to keep the chain net around Percival, and another four to keep Gwaine down. One bandit sparred with Elyan, but the knight was outnumbered and disarmed before he could rise triumphant. Leon caught a dart in the neck and fell motionless to the dust.

"Run, Arthur!"

The king was on the verge of charging headfirst into the fray, even as the last of his soldiers were overwhelmed, when he heard Merlin's yell. He ignored him.

"No, you stupid prat! Arthur!"

The warlock watched as the king dove into the melee, killed two slavers and bashed the head of a third before they knew he was there. Then a net was thrown over him, and he was snared.

Merlin cursed foully, twisting like a wild animal in his efforts to free himself. "Vĭncûla rumpę!"

It hurt when he landed, but it was a small price to pay for liberation. He left the remains of the sabotaged net above and dodged into the trees. The hill was no hindrance, and he soon lost vision of the ambush outcome. He wasn't abandoning them, of course. No, Merlin could never do that. Instead, he was going to have to do something very stupid, and rash, to free his friend and master, and the Knights of Camelot.

Little did he know that he was being watched, watched by a malevolent man with a dead, white eye.


Uh oh.

Albion: never a dull moment.

I'll update sooner this time, I promise.

Rough Latin translation:
Vincula rumpe: Break the bonds

"There's a reason why we're born with brains in our heads, not rocks." ~ Brom (Eragon)