Next chapter, hope you enjoy!
Merlin slowly came to, his senses returning to him. He opened his groggy eyes to see that he was surrounded by the leafy trees and vibrant brushes of Camelot's outer forests. He lay against a wooden tree trunk, but he didn't know for how long. The last thing he recalled was Arthur preparing to battle the mysterious Black Knight.
Merlin was careful to move, a hand drifting to his neck where the dart struck him. There was a spot of dried blood and a slight sting but nothing more. He felt completely fine, if only a little disoriented.
"Arthur?" he spoke quietly. There was no one in sight which worried him as the prince was missing, but he was cautious in case the Black Knight was lurking around, "Arthur!"
"Merlin?" came the reply.
Merlin stood, finding his footing, as he looked around. Arthur was standing a few feet away, sword in hand. When the Prince saw Merlin, he smiled with relief, "I thought you were a goner."
"Nope. You're still stuck with me."
Arthur clapped him on the back hard, happy. For him, that was a deep gesture. Merlin pitched forward under his strong hand, but he smirked. He was relieved himself that the Prince was alive and safe from the mysterious swordsman.
Merlin observed their surroundings. It seemed that Arthur had made a makeshift camp. The day was bright but gloomy. The green leaves seemed more vibrant in color than normal. Arthur hadn't made a fire to avoid attraction from unwanted parties.
"How long was I out?"
"Day and a half," Arthur said, "Snoring like a badger."
Merlin tried to clear his head. Arthur tossed him a canteen of water which he caught it clumsily, but he didn't fail to notice a stroke of discomfort cross the Prince's face. It was gone so fast that Merlin believed he was imagining it.
"What happened?" the sorcerer asked as Arthur unstrapped his armor. He looked weary, probably on account of his earlier battle and watching them both alone all night, "last I remember was a man in black armor."
Arthur nodded, taking a seat beside Merlin, "You remember correctly," he tossed one of his metal gauntlets onto the grass by his seat. He flexed the sore arm muscles of his sword hand, "after you were hit by the dart, the mysterious man in black revealed himself. He fought like the devil, but I managed to steer him away from you and lose him by the stream," Merlin listened intently at the recount as Arthur continued, "I trekked throughout the night until I was sure I'd lost him. The dart's contents didn't appear to be fatal."
"Then what were the contents?" Merlin wondered darkly.
Arthur shrugged, "Let's just be glad you made it through the night."
Merlin accepted that fact with indignation. His mind reeled with questions, "Any other sign of him?"
"Fortunately, no," Arthur shook his head, "but I'm not taking any chances," he scoured the nearby trees.
"I wonder," Merlin started, "after I was hit by the dart, he could have easily shot you as well."
Arthur's brow furrowed, "Your point?"
"Then why didn't he?"
They were silent for a moment.
"I don't know," Arthur sighed, "I like to believe it was a rogue hunter who stumbled upon us by mistake."
"Then why did he shoot me?"
"He could have considered you a threat."
Merlin scoffed, "So, he targets the indefensible servant instead of the armed and highly trained knight? Unlikely."
"Perhaps he didn't know who we were."
"That doesn't seem right," Merlin mumbled to himself, "When he fought, was he fighting to kill?"
Arthur thought for a moment, "Well...yes. He fought ferociously. I could barely keep pace."
"Then he was meaning to kill you," Merlin looked to the grass, "and keep me alive."
The facts sunk in. Both were quiet, silently reeling. The Black Knight wanted to murder the Prince but let the scrawny servant live? It didn't make sense. More often than not, it was the other way round. Arthur was always the target, but it seemed that he was just an obstacle to be rid of in this scenario.
A red spot on Arthur's hand caught his eye.
"You're bleeding," Merlin's tone grew serious.
Arthur quickly wiped away the stain, "It's nothing. Pricked my finger on a nasty thorn while I carried you."
Arthur's voice suggested finality
Merlin noted Arthur's weariness, "You should get some rest."
Arthur shook his head, "Can't risk it."
"Come on, you've been up all night. You look as if you could drop any minute."
Arthur still looked unconvinced.
"I'll wake you should I notice anything suspicious."
The Prince looked at Merlin sternly, "Doesn't matter if it doesn't seem important. You still wake me."
Merlin nodded. Arthur sighed, "I suppose a few hours couldn't hurt."
Arthur made himself comfortable against a tree trunk as Merlin deliberated. The sorcerer was trying to find explanations to his questions. Who would target him instead of Arthur? There were a few suspects that came to mind, but none of them had appeared in the mysterious obsidian armor of The Black Knight. This was a new threat altogether.
Dusk was approaching, and there were fortunately no suspicious signs to note. Merlin rustled together a small dinner from nearby berries and the few rations Arthur had managed to carry during their escape.
Occasionally, Merlin would examine the Prince. He didn't forget the stain and look of discomfort on his face. Arthur was still clad in his armor, ready to fight at any moment. Yet, his complexion had grown paler than before.
Just as the sun began to set, Merlin woke Arthur. They ate their meager dinner in silence, both of their senses on alert for the Black Knight. They didn't dare light a fire. Night brought darkness, stoking their fear. It manipulated the shapes around them. A brush of a branch could be the Black Knight's sword for all they knew. Arthur's sword was never far from his fingertips.
Finally, Merlin snapped. His fear and frustration were growing, "We should keep moving. We should get back to Camelot."
"Traveling in the dead of night is even more dangerous. You know that, Merlin. We'll set off in the morning."
"But this is madness! We're sitting targets!"
Arthur shushed him, "There's been no sign of the Black Knight so far. Like I said, he could have been a rogue."
Neither of them were convinced.
"Where are we?" Merlin murmured, "How far did you take us?"
Arthur shook his head, "I don't know."
"We need to find the river," Merlin said, "that'll lead us back to Camelot. If we find the river, we find our way home."
"Tomorrow," Arthur said doubtfully. In their rush, he didn't know what was North or South. He lost all sense of direction. The bloody trees even looked the same as their original camp from the day before.
Merlin stoked conversation again, "How's your finger?"
"What?"
"Your finger, it was bleeding. You said you pricked it with a knife."
"Oh. Yes, fine."
"I don't believe you."
"It really is fine."
"No, not about the finger," Merlin rolled his eyes, "what's wrong?"
"It's nothing."
"So there is something."
Arthur grumbled to himself, "Leave it alone, Merlin. I'm fine."
"There is a bloody killer in these woods looking for us, and you're being a prat."
"Am not."
"Are to!"
"Fine!" Arthur said, exasperated. He sighed before removing the chest piece of his armor. He lifted it over his head, wincing and gritting his teeth. That's when Merlin saw a long bloody streak staining Arthur's undershirt.
"Arthur!" he exclaimed, "why didn't you bloody say anything!"
The Prince brushed it aside, "It's a small wound, Merlin, it's barely cut the skin-"
He stopped, wincing as Merlin inspected the wound. The cut was deep, on his right arm. The Black Knight's blade cut from shoulder to underarm in a downward motion. The skin was red and bloody, not treated properly.
"Stay here," Merlin ordered, "I'm going to make a poultice."
"No, Merlin," Arthur stood defiantly, "you can't go alone."
"I'll be quick, I know where the herbs are from when I passed them earlier today."
Arthur opened his mouth to protest-
"Don't," Merlin shook his head, "You can't stop me. I need to treat that wound if you want to make it out of this forest alive."
Arthur was clearly against it, but he sighed in resignation, "Be fast. If you see anything, shout. I'll be there."
He tossed Merlin the last of his arrows. He'd left the quill behind when he'd dashed from the Black Knight, but had managed to salvage just one.
Merlin gripped it tight as he disappeared into the forest, leaving Arthur behind. He navigated himself by sound and memory. His sight was useless, only blackness surrounded him. He walked quickly, his nerves jumping with paranoia. He could imagine the Black Knight following him like a panther stalking its prey. He'd make a perfect target. The powerless servant separated from his protector.
Finally, he found the patch of herbs. Merlin hastily collected Echinacea, Willow bark, and lavender. It was all he could find, but it'd have to do. Merlin ran back in the direction he came from. His heart was pounding, his eyes darting through the dark treeline searching for any signs of their elusive adversary.
Finally, he saw the clearing of their makeshift camp.
"Arthur!" he called, relieved, "Arthur, I've got it, I-"
He stopped short. The herbs fell from his hands. The clearing was clear. Nobody was around. A few drops of blood stained the dirt and his sword lay still on the ground beside it. Arthur was gone.
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