OK, first things first, BIG thank you to those who have reviewed me. I may be too lazy to write your names this time, but that's because I love you too much. I'll leave you to work that out for yourselves. (Although I will get all excited about YOU, CaptainOzone, because I LOVE your stories. Oh, and YOU, Carolyn, *exchanges grin for solemn face* because now I'm going to try REALLY hard to maintain those standards.)
Also, to those who followed and favourited, I wouldn't be able to write your names even if I DIDN'T love you, because I'd spend about two hours doing it, making sure I didn't put capitals where there aren't any, and such. Also, there were…quite a few of you *hangs head at slightly big-headed remark*
Ooh, I'm gonna love this! *gleeful chuckle*
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Chapter 3: The Loss
"MERLIN!"
Arthur had been glancing over his shoulder when he saw Merlin being pulled from his horse, and the desperate shout had been pulled from his lips as he tried to stop his horse mid-gallop. But it was harder than it looked – Bethilde was a little jumpy at the best of times, but events of the past few seconds were a little too much for her, and she was very unwilling to stop.
As he struggled with his horse, the fair-haired king cast another worried glance behind him, and his brow furrowed in surprise, his lip curling slightly. Three of the large, bulky Saxons were marching towards him, swords drawn and deadly intent clouding their gaze. A little way away, another two were trying to restrain Merlin's horse, which was on the rampage; Well at least I merit one more than a horse he thought, before realising that with his own horse included, he was actually only worth one.
But around Merlin there were six! Six! One was sitting of to the side, nursing a bleeding nose where Merlin had hit him. Three more were gripping his arms and legs, whilst a fourth was actually standing on his hand. The final one was sitting on him with a–
Oh no.
Merlin had stopped struggling and was staring as the club, grasped firmly in the thick, sausage-like fingers of the Saxon, reached its peak, and began the inexorable descent downwards towards Merlin's head.
The next half second changed everything.
"WHOA!" Arthur shouted, eyes wide and gaping as Bethilde whinnied shrilly and reared up high, front legs kicking. Bracing his legs against her sides, he had tensed his shoulders, ready for the impact as she hit the ground again when Merlin's voice reached him from where he was pinned.
"ARTHUR! WARN CAMELO–"
CRACK!
Arthur's stomach warped at the sound, but he was too busy – or too scared – to look over at his friend. Bethilde had landed running and was powering across the remaining gap between them and the trees with her mouth foaming and her eyes rolling. He desperately pulled at her reigns with all his might, which was quite considerable, but to no avail; something had driven her witless, and Arthur had never seen her this scared.
In a moment of panic, Arthur briefly considered throwing himself off the horse, but he dismissed the thought immediately; at this speed, he had no idea of the injuries he would receive, he could end up making things worse instead of better.
Arthur wasn't quite sure what made him do it. It wasn't like there was a point to it, or a reason why it would work, but when it came down to it, he couldn't help himself.
I'm sorry, Merlin. You wouldn't have left me there, but I left you. I promise I'll come back for you. I promise. And he scattered his words behind him as he rode, threw them into the air and pushed them at any one who would listen. He pushed with all the energy he had left and more, which is why he wasn't surprised when he felt something pushing back, fainter than the breeze but there all the same.
It's alright, Arthur. Leave me, please. Just…be the king that Camelot deserves.
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Hmm… I'm not sure about the last bit, I wrote it in a rush. I hope you like it!
Please review! Everyone who does will get an imaginary chocolate bar/bag of sweets/banana. They're a good source of potassium!
