Chapter 2

Feeling a bit more upbeat though still perplexed, Merlin walked over to where Arthur was now looking through the night's reports, sensing the King's concentration.

"Ah Merlin, there you are." Arthur said, briefly looking up.

"You okay?" Merlin asked, picking up Arthur's sword and preparing to clean it. He felt he needed something to occupy him to keep his mind from wandering.

"Yes. I have looked through the reports, Morgana's army are starting to move. I think tomorrow will be the day. We will have one group of men attacking her from the secret path, and I will lead the main group, on the plain. That way we can attack her on two fronts. I cannot allow Morgana to get any stronger."

"A good plan sire." Merlin said, happy that Arthur appeared decisive and sure of his tactics.

Arthur raised his eyebrow. "Would you actually know a good battle plan Merlin considering you spend your time hiding behind some tree!"

Merlin smiled to himself, if only he knew. "I have you know I have played an important part in a lot of battles."

Arthur laughed, "Yes of course Merlin, your fighting skills are well known throughout the Kingdom."

"There is more to battles than just fighting skills." Merlin replied, warming to his task.

"Such as?" Arthur said, eyebrows rising.

"Well pandering after you making sure you remember to take your sword with you. Getting you to the right place, after all your navigation skills are not the best." Merlin grinned.

"Neither are yours." Arthur answered. "You cannot even find your way back from the tavern after two drinks."

"That is Gwaine exaggerating. It is usually me that guides the Knights back to the citadel." Merlin replied, suddenly enjoying the bantering.

"Not what I have heard Merlin." Arthur replied, looking sceptical.

Merlin grinned, just happy to see Arthur enjoying himself and he realized just how far their relationship had come. When Merlin had first arrived in Camelot they were so different, now they could share moments such as these, even on the eve of an important battle. For a second he did not even care that he was unable to reveal his true self, nothing could beat a moment like this for him. Just by looking at Arthur, Merlin could sense each change of mood he had, he knew they had a real connection with each other. Arthur seemed incredibly self-assured this particular night, and Merlin truly felt he had turned the corner with his confidence and self-belief. But Merlin also knew the frailties were always below the surface with Arthur. So the moment Merlin sensed a change in mood he was ready to prop his friend up.

Arthur was still sitting down, but he appeared to be in a trance. Merlin tensed recognising the signs of nervous tension on his friend's features. He put the sword down, and walked over; making sure that Arthur looked up at him before he started speaking.

"It will be a stunning victory tomorrow. The start of a new era, one where all the Kingdoms can come together as one; and you will be the figurehead. You will be the person they all look too."

"How can you be so sure Merlin?" Arthur asked, "I have been in enough battles to know, that you can never be sure of anything."

"I have confidence in you. I know you are fated to be the King that Albion will look too. Come the next day, you will have seen off the hordes of evil that plague this land. Then you can begin to rebuild the new Kingdom that will be born out of this battle."

"Well by tomorrow we will know Merlin, because we will either be forming a new Kingdom, or there will be little left of it or us."

"Whatever happens I will be here for you." Merlin smiled, picking up the sword and beginning to sharpen it.

"I have never doubted that my friend." Arthur said, lightly touching Merlin's shoulder as he left the tent.

As Merlin watched Arthur moving towards where the Knights were still sitting, he lightly breathed in, feeling shattered and disorientated. Up to now he had made sure he kept his nerves away from Arthur, sensing his friend needed a bit of reassurance. But the feeling that bothered him before continued to worry him now.

To make matters worse he still could not work out what it was; just a feeling of dread, that something big was coming. But for now he knew he must put it to the back of his mind, for Arthur needed his support. There was no chance that he would not do everything he could for the young King, in his biggest challenge yet. Everything else would wait, whatever the cost would be for Merlin himself.

It was just after late afternoon that the two armies faced each other across the plain they called Camlann. The drums of the Saxons were loud and aggressive, the rhythm running through the heads of the Knights, and enticing them into combat. But Arthur took his time, making sure his army stood straight and strong behind him. He looked ahead, focusing on a Saxon, his first target. He waited a couple more seconds, before raising his sword in his hand and shouting, "On me!" Then he ran, his army thundering along behind him.

The earth seemed to shake, as thousands of men descended onto one another. As Arthur ran to meet the Saxons, what remained of the daylight seemed to disappear into darkness. The only light now came from the torches but even they seemed to disappear, as the two lines of men became one, and steel met steel in a ferocious battle of survival.

Any doubts that Arthur had before now disappeared as his fighting instinct took over. This is what he had been taught to do, as soon as he could stand. He was a warrior a man who never felt more at home, then when he had his sword in hand, fighting for what he believed in. He leapt into action his foot kicking at a Saxon, and kicking him to the floor. As someone came at him from behind, he twisted his body, meeting the man face to face, before ruthlessly finishing him off with his sword in the man's heart.

By now he could smell the blood, and hear the crying of men as they fell to the ground. He closed his ears to their cries, knowing that one moment's hesitation could mean his own death. The noise of the swords clanging became ever louder as he entered the middle of the pack, and his opponents suddenly seemed sharper, and more challenging.

Suddenly a big sturdy man with a glaring face came running at him, shouting loudly, and thrusting his sword at him aggressively. Arthur being slimmer and more agile had the advantage and managed to move quicker, than him. Twice the man threw his sword into the space that Arthur had just been in, only to find he was no longer there. Arthur caught him with a kick to the lower hip, stunning his opponent whose moves became very jerky. Sensing his desperation to keep up on his feet, Arthur went in for the kill, kicking at him again, before thrusting his sword into the man's chest as he fell on the ground.

By now men were throwing themselves into battle, an animal like instinct taking over everywhere. Arthur was no different it was kill or be killed, as men appeared from the crowd to challenge him. He had no time to wonder where his friends where, or to feel tired, the adrenaline kept him going. He received one scratch to the arm as someone took him unawares he felt almost insulted and finished the warrior off in no time at all. He could feel the trickle of blood running down his arm. But that would not stop him now.

His sword swept another Saxon away, Arthur barely looking at the man, as he went looking for another victim. He was faced with two together, but did not flinch for a second; it was just another challenge to take on. He had soon kicked one in the stomach causing him to stutter; as Arthur bent his head he managed to throw the man over his shoulder. Then he turned his attention to the other one and after a brief private battle, where they traded blows, his sword found its way into the Saxon's chest. The man went down quick, crying out as he did so.

Arthur looked up briefly to size the situation, there were still plenty of Saxons making their way down the plain. He briefly felt a touch of tiredness, but another man hurling himself at the young King, soon cured that. He met the challenge head on and as they traded blows he gritted his teeth, as he went on the attack. After a brief battle, the man was on the back foot, Arthur sensing it went after him. The man threw his sword out towards Arthur's face but he easily avoided contact. With one counter attack, he thrust his sword towards the man, kicking out at him at the same time. Feeling the man fall to the ground, Arthur finished him off.

When he looked up he realized he had come away from the main line of men, and was by some caves. He could hear the cries of dying men, as they lay around, some doubtless his own, which for a second made him pause with sadness. But for now he had no time to mourn, that would come later, when the battle was won. He went running back to the main line of Saxons, feeling ready for the next confrontation.

Merlin had found a place to watch the fighting behind some rocks. He had briefly lost Arthur, but after using his magic, he had managed to trace Arthur once again; and so duly made his way near, to where Arthur was fighting away. By now he could sense how ruthless and desperate the fighting had become. By now men lay crying to the gods to have mercy as they gasped their last minutes of life. Merlin wished he could close his ears to the sound. There was nothing more pitiful than the last sound of a warrior, fighting for his last breath.

As Merlin surveyed the scene before him he grew restless. The lines of Saxons seemed to be growing ever more by the minute. There was no doubt that Arthur and his men were outnumbered, and somewhere among them was Morgana. He could sense her round about, and knew he may well have to protect Arthur from her.

But first he had to find her. He closed his eyes trying to use his senses to track her down. For a second he felt he was near her, but some screaming nearby interrupted his concentration. He walked over to the man who was lying a few feet away. He was in an extremely bad way, Merlin crouched by him. He had a huge hole in his side; Merlin doubted he would last too much longer.

The man sensed Merlin and held his hand out to him, talking in a language Merlin did not understand. Merlin put his hand on the man's shoulder, staying with him until he passed away. When he was still Merlin waited a couple of minutes, watching his still body. The fact that he was a Saxon made little difference a dead man was a dead man.

For a second Merlin cursed the battle that raged around him. By the end so many would be dead, and for what he thought to himself angrily. There was no guarantee that even if Arthur won, that peace would reign. He knew Morgana would continue her mad crusade against Camelot, he doubted anything would stop her now. Only her death or Arthur's would bring the cycle to an end.

He wondered if she even knew what she was fighting for now. She had abused so many of her own kind, as well as the ordinary people of Camelot. What price or chance would magic have, even if Arthur was victorious? He got up and moved away from the dead man. As he walked over other dead bodies, he sighed and wished he could turn back the clock.

He wondered had he shared his secret with Morgana could all of this have been avoided. Was this the punishment for his refusal to reveal his secret, all those years ago? He closed his eyes feeling suddenly tired, and weary of the burden on his shoulders. For years he had lied to Arthur, to all his friends, terrified that they would discover his secret. The longer it had gone on, the more distant he felt from his ultimate goal. As he stood and watched the fighting up ahead it felt as if the world was laughing at him and everything he had ever hoped for. He felt utter dejection and a terrible sense of despondency.

A shout from the throng brought him too; he had to find Arthur he realized. He had no connection to him all of a sudden. Feeling panic rise in him, he bolted along jumping over some more rocks. He did his best to hide behind the straggly bushes, not wanting to draw attention to himself. But he knew he would have to creep a bit nearer to the action. After a quick look around to check no one was by him, he climbed up on one of the rocks, straining his neck. "Where are you Arthur" he muttered desperately to himself. "Show yourself."

All he could see were hundreds of men fighting hand to hand, no quarter being given. He looked around again, this time using his magical senses. At first there was nothing once more, forcing him to consider the unthinkable. Then just as he was giving into the ghastly thought, something pulled on his magic. He looked ahead and caught a brief sight of his friend, finishing off another Saxon. As he followed him with his eyes, he could tell Arthur was beginning to feel jaded, and still there was no end in sight of the battle.

On and on the battle continued. Arthur had no sooner finished one Saxon off and two others seemed to appear from nowhere. Whereas before he fought without even thinking about his condition, now it was beginning to plague his mind. He felt somehow more lethargic in his movement. It was as if his body had physically begun to wind down, whereas before he met each target instantly, now he missed as many as he connected with. The individual battles where becoming longer in length, and more tiring in effort.

Having killed another warrior, he managed to find a brief respite to allow him to take quick look around. The fighting was taking place in pockets now, the battle had become stretched. He could see plenty of victims from both sides lying around on the ground, a pitiful sight. At the back of his mind was a constant fear; that Morgana could appear at any second. He had been so involved in his various battles that he had hardly stopped to think about it. But he could not believe that she would not show up at some stage. Where was she, and when she came what could they do about her anyway? He shuddered at the thought.

Taking a deep breath he prepared to re-enter the battle once again, just as he was going to move he heard a sword move from behind him. A hideous feeling of death washed over him, as if he had stared into the abyss. But before he could do anything a roar came from the side of him, a voice he recognised. He turned around to face the battle just as Leon finished the Saxon off, and he fell almost onto Arthur's foot.

"Thank you Leon." Arthur said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"No problem sire." Leon smiled, "You'd do the same for me."

"Yes. Let's get back to it. I will see you on the other side." Arthur said, pushing his helmet down.

"Yes indeed." Leon scuppered away, throwing himself into another Saxon only feet away.

Arthur saw a group of Saxons away by some rocks and made his way over to them motioning another Knight to join him. Before long they were swinging swords as if finding extra adrenaline from somewhere. The young Knight fought well, and Arthur recognised him as Gareth an up and coming young fighter who had caught Arthur's attention, shortly before leaving for Camlann. By the time they had finished the Saxon's off he had already rushed away to confront the next group. Arthur followed, relieved that the spirit in his men seemed to be spiralling on.

Merlin continued to watch the battle from his new hiding place. He was now near a cave which had a huge rock he could slot into. He had watched with bated breath as Leon had come to Arthur's rescue. He had been ready to spring in to action himself, and had only seen Leon at the last minute. He could now sense Arthur was fighting with a renewed vigour. Maybe his slice with death had reawakened the fire in the young King. Merlin had no idea how the mind of a warrior worked despite his endless experiences of accompanying the Knights to various battles.

He was still concerned by the fact that they appeared to be outnumbered; although it was true the Saxons too had lost a lot of men. He found it hard to understand how this battle was going; The Saxons still seemed to be full of battle hardened men. Arthur was now fighting alongside another Knight, Merlin felt grateful for that at least. But he felt on edge and worried that there had been no sign of Morgana.

Hi senses told him that she was around somewhere, but they had failed to track her down. He did not doubt she would make an entrance at some stage, and when she did he must be ready for what lay ahead. If that meant revealing himself then he was ready for doing that, and he would face the consequences later.

Never before was he more determined to do whatever was expected of him. For all the years he had hidden himself away, he knew that one day something would happen that would force him to confront the cloak of secrecy he had surrounded himself with. There came a time when every man had to conquer his biggest fear, and he would be no different.

He looked up at the sky noticing the daylight was beginning to fade, how much longer could this battle carry on he wondered. The darkness would suit Morgana even more he realized nervously. He suspected at some stage she would throw Aithusa into the mix as well.

The fighting below had reached a crescendo by now, men were throwing themselves into battle like never before. Merlin followed blow for blow feeling restless and helpless. As a few more Saxons appeared a cold feeling of dread entered the depths of his mind. Would this be the moment he would be forced to reveal himself?

He closed his eyes trying to calm himself, knowing that he would need every bit of strength and confidence to step out into the light, after years in the darkness. Whatever happened after that he would face, and know that he had at least enabled Albion to survive; and for Arthur to go on and become the King, the prophecies had spoken about. He prepared himself inwardly connecting with his magic. But suddenly a yell entered the air almost throwing Merlin back in fright; looking below him he saw the unmistakable figure of Percival with Lancelot at his heel, leading a large number of men into the battle.

Merlin just stood in wonder for a second, not quite knowing how he felt. Was it relief or disappointment? In the end it did not matter, as for once it was the Knight's of Camelot that had the numerical advantage in the battle. Merlin realized the other battle had obviously been won by Lancelot and Percival's men and now they could hopefully turn the main battle Arthur's way. As the battle slowed down the action petering out, Merlin disappeared like a ghost into the night.

To be Continued.

Note: This is to be this week's last posting. I will probably post once a week, most likely it will be every Friday. Thanks to everyone who has so far viewed this, and I hope you continue to enjoy it.