The More Things Change
III. The Mark of Nimueh
Merlin accompanied Gaius out early that morning, a guard had reported to Uther that there was a report of a body in an alleyway. He yawned, stumbling along behind his mentor; it had been a bit hard to adjust to, that a physician's job – and even more so the apprentice's – was an all day and all night responsibility.
The body, secured from public curiosity by a second liveried guard, was a man, lying facedown in the alley. To Merlin's eye there was no sign of violence, it appeared as if the man, whoever he was, had simply spread his length to sleep, and never woke up. An illness, rather than an injury, then? Gaius knelt to begin his examination without a moment's hesitation.
Merlin hung back a bit, both to give him space to work and because he felt a faint and inexplicable revulsion. He worried that maybe he didn't have what it took, after all, to be any kind of a healer. "Aren't you scared?" he asked the old physician.
"Of what?"
Merlin tried to explain his apprehension. "You… might catch whatever it is?"
Gaius gave him a look. "I am the court physician, Merlin, this is part of my job." Chastened but not reassured, Merlin ventured closer. "Mostly there's nothing to be scared of," the physician added, taking the shoulder of the corpse to turn it over.
As the man flopped to his back, Merlin's heart jumped in his chest at the sight of his face – dead drowned white, the veins showing thick and blue, the eyes open but covered with a thick milky film. "You were saying?" he said breathlessly.
"People mustn't see this," Gaius decided swiftly. "They'll panic. Get a cart, and a blanket." Merlin was happy to obey.
Once they'd gotten back to the privacy of the physician's chamber, Merlin helped lay the body out on the long table used for such things, treatment and diagnosis, both. Gaius took a small circle of polished glass fastened to a small wand for a handle, to have a closer look at the strange symptoms. "I've never seen anything like this before," he murmured.
Merlin hovered by the bookshelf, wanting to be useful but finding it hard to keep himself too close to the body. "Some kind of plague?" he suggested.
"No, this could never come from nature," Gaius concluded.
Merlin caught his meaning immediately. "It's caused by magic?"
The old physician straightened, looked at him, and he knew enough of the old man's limited stern expressions to know that something worried him. "But who has this kind of power?" he said. Merlin shuddered without quite knowing why.
A quick knock sounded at the door, and Arthur ducked his head inside. "Gaius, my father wants you. Throne room."
Merlin covered the body again with the blanket, and followed the court physician and the prince, and stopped dead inside the double doors of the throne room. There was another body on the floor, another man, simply lying there, but the same ghastly white skin tone and blueing of the veins was visible. Gaius bent over the body immediately, but Merlin knew it was just for show – the old physician didn't have the answer, yet.
"What's happened?" Uther demanded, keeping his own distance on his throne at the far end of the room.
"I don't know," Gaius admitted. "Second case today." Merlin tried to drag his eyes away from the body, and couldn't seem to manage it; there was something terribly fascinating about it.
"And?"
"I have seen nothing like it," the old man said. "But it seems to strike and spread quickly."
"So, what is the cause?" Uther asked.
Gaius hesitated long enough for most people in the room to notice. "I think I should say the cause…" The old man corrected himself, "The most likely cause – is sorcery."
Uther stood from his throne. "And who is the sorcerer responsible?" he snarled. Merlin didn't raise his eyes from the floor; he felt sure the king was looking straight at him.
"Sire, it is impossible to say, at this point. The scientific process is a long one, and must not be rushed."
"Be sure," Uther's voice was cold, "that you make full use of your assistant during this time." Gaius bowed, and backed to the door, pushing Merlin along also. But before they were fully through the double doors, Merlin heard Uther say to his son, "This kind of magic undermines all we've done. If we cannot control this plague… we have to find the sorcerer, and quickly."
Arthur said, "Yes, Father," and Gaius pushed Merlin around the corner.
"He's right, you know," the old man said. "More than one death caused by magic could undermine his authority, make people doubt their ruler."
"I know," Merlin moaned. "But why does he say it like he thinks it's somehow all my fault?"
"Come," Gaius said. "We can do nothing more for these two unfortunates, but perhaps there will be some indication of what happened, closer to the place the first died."
Merlin followed as they hurried to the alley, but his attention was stolen by the sight of a third man, crumpled on the ground next to the support post of roof overhang, feebly reaching to him for help with a hand that was dead-fish white.
"Gaius!" Merlin exclaimed. "He's still alive!"
"We need to know the disease before we can cure him," Gaius said, but stopped.
"I can cure him," Merlin said, with more confidence than he felt.
Gaius gave his head a quick shake. "Healing one will not stop the spread," he reminded Merlin. "It may even strengthen Uther's suspicions of you – the only known sorcerer residing in the citadel. You know how the king thinks – he may decide that you've done this to gain credit for the healing you can perform."
"It doesn't matter," Merlin said. "If I can save his life…"
"All right, Merlin," Gaius said, motioning to a pair of guards passing. "You see what you can do for him, and I will continue in my investigation. Science will lead us to the source of the disease."
Again they used the cart and the blanket, again they carried a body to the physician's chambers – but this one was placed on the patient's bed. Then both of them set to work. Merlin was quickly getting to know his way around the old man's haphazard system, the stock of herbs and the organization of equipment. He set about a poultice suggested by the book of healing magic, and was almost done when he noticed the old physician swirling a chalky substance in a vial over a flame.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Examining the contents of that man's stomach." Gaius indicated the corpse.
Merlin checked that his patient – his patient! – was comfortable, and came for a closer look, eager as always for instruction. "Will that tell you who did it?"
"No, but maybe how it's spread…" Gaius moved the glass vial away from the flame and looked into Merlin's eyes. "One thing I do know – this is magic of the darkest kind."
Well. No wonder he'd felt so reluctant to get close. "Why would someone use magic like that?" he wondered, returning to his work.
"Magic, like any form of power or skill, can corrupt," Gaius stated. "People use it for their own ends."
"I understand that," Merlin said. "But this? Who would benefit from a disease spreading among the common people of the lower town?" Gaius grunted and didn't answer. Merlin returned to the book to run his fingers and his eyes over the spell necessary to activate the poultice's components. "I'm ready to try this," he said, and Gaius left the workbench to observe. The patient himself was asleep or unconscious, for which Merlin was glad. If it didn't work, he'd just as soon not raise the man's hopes fruitlessly.
"Here," the old physician said, "put it under the pillow, the material will provide a buffer and allow the vapor to permeate the air about the head."
That detail adjusted, Merlin spoke the spell, "Thu fornimest adl fram guman." The round knob of the poultice visible under the pillow glowed a deep orange-gold, and a whitish mist rose from the man's skin to dissolve in the air.
"Wonderful," Gaius pronounced.
"His veins are still blue," Merlin worried.
"You can leave him to recover on his own," Gaius said. "Once the contagion is removed from his body, the blood will purify itself. He should be much better within half a day."
Merlin blew out a breath of relief, and grinned up at his mentor. "That's that, then," he said. "A cure, for sure."
Gaius shook his head. "I know it's tempting to use your magic for a solution, Merlin, but you must remember how different you are. If you are ever in my position, with an apprentice of your own, you must be able to teach the science and herb-lore, as well as the magic, you cannot expect another healer or assistant to be able to perform the magic that you can. It is not much good saving one – we have to discover how this is spreading."
"But the king has Arthur searching for whoever caused it," Merlin said. "Arthur will –"
"A sorcerer this powerful will never be found by searching the town," Gaius said.
"So what can we do?"
"Just what we are doing, I'm afraid. By all means, continue to help those you can, and we will hope that science finds the answer before it kills us all."
…..*…..
Arthur found his wandering footsteps leading to Gaius' chambers. He hadn't seen much of Merlin the past few days. He'd been busy looking busy on his search for the elusive sorcerer responsible for the plague. Frustrating, was what it was – a sorcerer would look, he assumed, just the same as anybody else. And someone bent on this kind of harm would not leave evidence of it lying around to be discovered in a common-sense search made by the king's guards. He also knew it was necessary, a show of action that served to calm the people.
He paused at a window to look out on the courtyard. By moonlight, the sheet-covered bodies seemed to glow with a melancholy finality. Nineteen deaths in all, mostly those who had fallen ill during the night and had been found once beyond help. And Merlin's magic, though confined and controlled in a guarded infirmary, had been responsible for saving almost twice that. Without the druid and his infinite gift of generous magic, the death toll would be over fifty by now.
He felt useless, by comparison. Which was why he was seeking out the old physician and his apprentice, to see what else he might possibly do. Yesterday Uther had imposed a curfew and cordoned off the lower town to isolate the disease and protect the lower city – and the fifteenth death had been reported, a noblewoman. It was in the water, Gaius had concluded, showing them a sprig of lavender swimming in a little vial, completely bleached of color.
Extend the search to the villages tomorrow, Uther had ordered. Arthur pushed away from the window, continuing on to visit Gaius with more determination in his step. He couldn't search the whole kingdom. There must be something here, that he could do.
"Gaius?" he said questioningly, opening the door of the old man's chamber. Neither of them had been in the infirmary, though the door-guard had standing orders to fetch one or the other if any new cases were reported during the night.
The old physician was seated at his desk, open book before him, head in his head. He startled as if he'd been sleeping, and stood to greet the prince. "Arthur, you should be resting," he scolded lightly. It was the same as saying, nice to see you, for Gaius.
"Later," he said brusquely. "I came to see if there was anything I can do? Where's Merlin?"
"He's talking to Kilgarrah," Gaius said.
Arthur halted mid-stride. "What?" he said. "Gaius, please don't tell me he called the great dragon anywhere near the city – my father will –"
"No, he's here," Gaius answered, nodding his head toward the short stair that led to Merlin's back bedroom. "We went to the cisterns below the city, the water that supplies the city's wells."
"And?" Arthur demanded, well aware that he sounded like his father at times.
Gaius turned the book on his desk around so that Arthur could see the picture, an earth-red monster with a bulbous head and hulking limbs, only three inches tall in the illustration. "An afanc," he said.
"You saw it?" Arthur said. "What is it?"
"A beast born of clay and conjured up by the most powerful of sorcerers."
"Do you have any idea who?" Arthur said. "That's our best chance, then, to go after the sorcerer responsible, isn't it?"
"Not necessarily," Gaius replied cautiously. Arthur noticed that he held a tiny fragment of something in his hand, turning it over thoughtfully. "We are left with the option of continuing as we are –"
"Which isn't working," Arthur pointed out.
Gaius inclined his head in agreement. "Or we find a way to defeat the creature who was sent to foul our water supply."
"How do we do that?" Arthur said, bending to try to read the script next to the illustration of the beast.
"That is what Merlin is asking Kilgarrah," Gaius said wearily.
Arthur abandoned the book and took the stairs to the druid's bedroom at one leap, pausing at the half-open door. Merlin sat cross-legged on his bed, eyes shut, perfectly still but for the minute movements of breathing. The light from the candle next to the bed flickered over him – he looked like he could be asleep, but after only a moment, he spoke. "Kilgarrah sends his greetings." Merlin's voice was hoarse from exhaustion, his eyes so darkly circled they might have been bruised as he opened them to look at Arthur, and he staggered in straightening from his bed.
Arthur wished he could tell the younger man to return to the bed and sleep as long as his body needed to. But they couldn't, not yet. "What did he have to say?" he asked, retreating to the larger chamber as Merlin ducked through the door.
Merlin gazed down at the stairs, and instead of joining them, simply sat down on the top step. "Elements," he told them. "He told me to trust the elements at my command, and that I can't do it alone." His blue eyes rested on Arthur, and he gave him a half-smile.
Arthur nodded immediately, feeling the return of some energy at the prospect of a solution he could do something to help accomplish. "How do we kill it, then?" he said.
"The afanc," Gaius said, "is made of earth and water, two of the four base elements."
"What about the other two?" Arthur said. Merlin's eyes had a glassy look, as though he'd fallen asleep there with them open, or else he was deep in thought.
"Perhaps they will destroy it," Gaius reasoned. "You want fire. Wind and fire."
Merlin said then, "You are air in fire's heat…"
"That's the spell you want," Gaius nodded.
…..*…..
Merlin dragged himself into Gaius' chamber, fairly trembling with exhaustion. "It's done," he told the old physician's raised eyebrow. "Only it disintegrated after it – died. There won't be any carcass to show the king in the morning."
"No…" Gaius said. "But I have… another bit of proof, I think he'll accept. With Arthur's word."
Merlin snorted. "He's certainly going to demand an explanation when Arthur doesn't get out of bed in the morning. He and I have a bet going, who's going to sleep the longest." He stumbled across the floor. "What's that there?"
Gaius laid the shard he'd picked up from the cistern floor earlier that day, when they'd first glimpsed the monster, to be able to identify it. On it was a tiny blue mark, two V's laid point to point, with a dot in the diamond-shaped space where they intersected. "This is the mark of Nimueh. The High Priestess of the Old Religion."
Merlin stared at the fragment. His brain was too tired now to process the significance his mentor evidently laid on the evidence. "But why? Are they allowed to do dark magic?"
Gaius tented his fingers and laid the tips to his chin. "Of all the rulers of Albion, Uther Pendragon is notoriously resistant to the influence of magic, as you well know. This offends the priestesses, provokes them, you might say."
"Still," Merlin said stubbornly. "How can they attack innocent people like this just to make a point to Uther?"
Gaius made a thoughtful noise. "I rather wonder if this wasn't Nimueh acting on her own."
"She hates Uther that much?"
"It seems to me," the old physician said slowly, "that this venture might have had more than one goal. She attacks the capital of Uther Pendragon in a way that undermines his newfound authority without being readily traced back to her. And in so doing, she tests… you."
"Me?" Merlin said. "What have I done? I've never even met a priestess!"
"You've been living a dragon's life of solitude, Merlin. You cannot realize how your part in fulfilling the prophecy of Dinas Emrys has become known to those who move within the circles of magic. I find it logical to assume that the High Priestess would wish to test your power and your skill and humiliate the Pendragon at the same time."
"And?" Merlin said.
"Let us hope that this is the end of it," Gaius told him, grim in his concern.
