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Chapter 3: Safety at Last

The knights worked with urgency, they needed to check the servant for signs of life and secure the safety of the king. Pandemonium erupted as the two men were frantically hoisted over the rail and onto the deck by Percival and Leon.

There was an explosion of noise and shouting. Everything seemed so loud and too bright after the quiet darkness beneath the waves. Arthur was being jostled and rolled, many hands lowered him onto his back and extracted Merlin forcefully from his arms.

The king had lost the thread of his servant's beating heart. It was vital that Merlin was attended to and yet for a moment, he felt an urge to protect the younger man and keep him close. Arthur did not want to be parted from his friend but the body he clung to was cold and immobile. Merlin needed help – so he relinquished his grip and the servant was immediately pulled free of his grasp.

There was a whirl of activity around him, yet the world turned in slow motion. A warm blanket was thrown over the king's shoulders and he was helped to his feet, all the while protesting he was fine. Arthur's awareness was only for the man prostrate and motionless on the deck. He wanted to help, but his body denied him. The knights gave the servant their full attention and he took some comfort in that.

Leon was struck with a sickening sense of déjà vu. Last summer the knights had dragged two bodies from a river near Camelot, despite their best efforts one of the boys had died at the scene. The death mask of the adolescent had haunted Leon's dreams for months. Now Merlin's face held the same expression. The knight vowed he would not live through the same nightmare. Gaius had told him what needed to be done should such a tragedy strike again, and this time he was prepared.

"Merlin, Merlin can you hear me?" Leon called, shaking and pinching the unresponsive man. There was no reaction to sound or pain.

"I need some help here" he shouted, hastily looking for the large knight, but Percival was already there.

Merlin's lips were tinged blue and no air passed between them. The curly-haired knight's hand trembled as he took two fingers to the servant's throat, searching for a pulse – there wasn't one.

Panic surged as Leon adjusted his position, finding the notch under the jaw and between the muscles. Finally, he felt the weak and painfully slow beating of Merlin's heart. Relief overwhelmed him as he glanced up, nodding the news.

In no time, Leon had tipped the motionless man's head back, checking the mouth for any obstruction. It was full of water. Cursing, the bearded knight swiftly rolled the head to its side; water flowed from Merlin's slack jaw.

The servant was not breathing. Leon knew he had to get air into Merlin's lungs somehow; else the unconscious man's heart would give up completely.

In desperation, the knight placed his palm firmly on Merlin's brow and yanked back his head to clear the airway. Leon's other hand grasped the servant's chin and levered his mouth open.

Pinching the nose and forming a tight seal with his own lips, Leon blew life into the body and watched as the chest artificially rose and fell. Two borrowed breaths, and then suddenly there was an inhalation. The knight instantly pulled away and Merlin was hastily rolled onto his side.

Percival whacked the servant on the back with such force Arthur expected to hear a sickening crack, instead there was a sharp intake of breath and a guttural roar as Merlin spilled the contents of his stomach over the floor. He was dragged away from the mess, but still he did not stir. Colour returned to his lips, now no longer cyanosed but a much healthier pink.

The king started to shake, making the act of standing difficult if not impossible. Arthur dropped to his knees; Merlin was breathing more steadily now, but still had no voluntary movement. His inky black hair was slicked back from a face that was far too pale. Rivulets of water rolled off the still form, converging into a puddle beneath him.

Arthur reached out a hand and rubbed Merlin's shoulder, after no response the shoulder was vigorously shaken.

"Merlin, Merlin?"

Droplets rolled down the shaft of Arthur's blond hair, disguising those already tracking down his face and obscuring his vision. The royal sniffed and swiped the moisture away. He brought his arm to Merlin's hip and rocked him back and forth. The motion caused Merlin to convulse and retch again; the king had to move back against a tide of vomit and sea water expelled from the young servant.

Purge over, Merlin's eyelids flickered several times before the tired warlock eventually prised open heavy eyes. It took a moment for the blue orbs to stabilise and focus on his king, but when they did a small smile formed at the corner of his mouth, distracting from the grey pallor of his face.

"Arthur"

"Merlin, don't you ever do that to me again!" The king shouted but there was no venom in his words, only raw fear from nearly losing his friend.

"I'll try not to; it's not at the top of my list," croaked the servant.

"You idiot, what were you thinking?" Arthur chastised.

"I wasn't"

"Why does that not surprise me?" The king replied almost sounding resigned.

Merlin's half-lidded eyes were beginning to close.

"Never mind, you're safe now - everything is going to be alright" urged the blond man. Arthur truly believed his own words but he was not to know the trouble that lay ahead.

A faint chuckle gave way to harsh coughing involving the whole of Merlin's frail body. A slight tremor remained long after the cough subsided. The servant's eyes were firmly shut and he would not be opening them any time soon.

Arthur's tremor gave way to a violent shudder, as the day's events caught up with him. His vision speckled and turned monochrome before fading to black. Strong arms picked him up, carrying him to his quarters where he could fall into a deep sleep like his servant; however, it was a place that would hold no peace for either of them.

The dark haired warlock's ordeal was far from over.


When the king awoke several hours later, he did not feel rested. He had not slept well, plagued by a recurring nightmare, wherein his servant's motionless body floats face down in black water. In the dream Arthur was helpless and he watched as something was tethered to Merlin, dragging him down to bottomless depths. As his servant slowly rotated and spiralled away, piercing blue eyes had opened and he had mouthed the words

"I'm sorry Arthur".

It was at this point that Arthur had jerked awake with a scream. By the time Leon had reached him, the king was sweat-drenched and tangled within the sheets. Unfortunately, he had punched the loyal knight on the nose before coming to his senses.

Leon had proceeded to inform Arthur of what had happened whilst the king slept. The captain had made swift progress but they were at least two or three days from reaching the port and it would take the best part of a week to get back to Camelot from there. Whilst Leon had relayed the information, the knight had pinched his nose and rubbed at his cheek, a bruise already beginning to form.

The loyal knight had shared an important conversation with the captain but was not sure how best to broach the subject of what the old man had said - but the king needed to know.

"The captain thinks that Merlin needs to be watched" the curly-haired knight began.

"Well of course, what kind of men does he think we are?" The king retorted.

"He told me that Merlin should not have survived, that the sea spirits would be angry and may try and take him again" the knight continued, unable to look the king in the eye.

"That's nonsense, surely you don't believe that?" Arthur's frustration and irritability began to surface.

"There is more," Leon paused -his king really wasn't going to like the next bit- but he pressed forward, "the captain believes if an evil demon takes hold not only will the whole ship be in danger, it will kill the host. The only way to save the soul is to make the body it resides in so unbearable it's forced to leave."

The king dreaded the answer to the question he was about to ask,

"How does he propose we do that?"

"Beating"

"Excuse me?" the blond man was incredulous.

"The captain said they were able to save one of the crew from a near drowning by hitting and beating him until the poison was expelled, only then did the person survive."

"That's barbaric; someone could be killed if that was done to them!" An unbidden vision of his servant being set upon by an angry crew popped into Arthur's mind - he tried to banish it, but the image was persistent.

Leon hesitated before he continued, "that has happened – the captain said it was unfortunate but a necessary measure to protect the crew and the vessel."

"This is pointless Leon, Merlin will be fine; he woke up and spoke to me" but even his own words were not convincing.

The knight tried to make things better by offering an explanation. "The captain is not a physician, none of us are." He tailed off, not willing to state the obvious regarding Merlin's role on the trip as Gaius' apprentice. "I think the captain is only trying to make sense of what he has seen in the past, give meaning to what he does not fully understand."

"How so?"

"Last summer, a boy we pulled from the river near Camelot seemed fine. Gaius checked him over and all seemed well but he developed a fever. Gaius said dirty water must have got into his lungs and set up an infection. He developed a productive cough and was very sick."

"And you think this may happen to Merlin?"

"I don't know Sire, let's hope not."

"This boy, did he recover?"

"Eventually, it was close but Gaius' skill and management won out. Apparently the infection was on the right side – something to do with the shape of the lungs and the heart Gaius said. The boy was placed on his left to help drain his chest and get rid of the infected secretions, I even saw him being gently shaken- but this is supposed to help get more phlegm out by causing the tissues to vibrate – well that's what he told me" Leon replied proudly and then realised that the best physician in all the kingdoms was not with them and his enthusiasm waned.

The king rubbed a hand over his face, closing his eyes to try and give himself time to think.

How had everything gone so spectacularly wrong in the space of a few hours?

He tried to tell himself that he was worrying unnecessarily, that his servant would sleep the experience off just as he had. Unfortunately that was not to be.

Leon and Percival had dried Merlin and changed his clothes; he had been taken to his bunk below deck, but had barely stirred. The curly-haired knight raised concern that the young man had not yet woken and was a little warm. He asked his king what to do.

Arthur did not like it. There was no one free to watch his servant down there. He had a bad feeling that was only intensified by the dream he'd just had. To top it all, there was a superstitious captain and crew who may through fear and ignorance try and attack his servant if they as much as suspected something was amiss. Merlin would have to be kept out of the way. Arthur was a king, but he was still but a passenger on the captain's ship. Should the old mariner decide his servant was a problem needing to be dealt with, there was little the monarch could do.

He ordered a bed to be made up in his cabin – it was the only one big enough to house two beds. He'd been advised to rest after his dip in the ocean and it wouldn't do any harm to keep an eye on Merlin whilst he recovered. Arthur had the medical supplies Gaius had given them for the voyage and he had an ominous feeling that he would need them soon.

As Arthur predicted, it was not long before Merlin was showing signs of needing medical attention; however, there was no experienced physician to administer it. Merlin, in the role of Gaius' apprentice, had been the one tasked with looking after any of the crew if they got sick and now something was seriously wrong with him and there was no one with the skill to know what it was or what to do. The king glanced over at his servant who had started to thrash about; he observed the sheen that now covered his face and the pained expression he wore. The fight for Merlin's soul had already begun, but who would win? Would it be the fever, the angry mob or the frail young man? Arthur did not know, and it scared him.