Chapter 4 – Lost in Translation

The king lay on his bed, covered in sweat and convulsing violently. Tossing off her cloak, the elven priestess leant over him and felt his forehead.

"His brow is on fire," she commented.

"He wasn't this bad when I left him!" Merlin insisted guiltily, standing by helplessly. "He was improving."

"Often a warning to prepare for the worst," Iellwen replied sternly as she rolled back the sleeves of her glowing white dress. It occurred to Merlin for the umpteenth time that she was outstandingly beautiful. She turned to him in annoyance. "Fetch me Meadowsweet."

Within minutes Merlin returned breathlessly to his king's chambers, followed moments later by Gaius, and handed the bundles of dry herbs to Iellwen. She took them from him and, grabbing a tin cup from the side of Arthur's bed, set about brewing him a tea. The two men watched her in silence as she worked. She muttered gently to herself, occasionally raising her hand from the fire to push her hair from her eyes. The glow of the embers and flames lighted her perfectly and, had he not known any better, Merlin could almost have mistaken her for an angel.

"You're dribbling."

"What?" Merlin snapped, shutting his mouth and grabbing his face as he turned to Gaius. "No I'm not."

"You may as well have been," the physician commented plainly, "the way you were staring at her."

"I was watching her work," Merlin protested quietly. Gaius simply raised an eyebrow and looked up as Iellwen stood, the beaker held in her hand. She carried it over to them.

"Try to get him to drink this."

"What is it?" Merlin asked.

The priestess looked at him in mock surprise. "Well, with the intensity that you were – how did you put it? – watching me work, I would have thought that you would already know."

XXX

As embarrassed as he was, Merlin set to work as usual and, after much hassle, finally managed to force the meadowsweet tea down Arthur's throat. It had a near instant effect. The king's breathing became much easier and he seemed more awake than he had before. Despite his still weakened state, he insisted that the message should be translated immediately and in his own presence. Merlin relayed the request to Iellwen, who had refused to be in the room with Arthur whilst he was awake and had waited outside in the corridor.

"I will translate it, of course, but he cannot see me," she said plainly, taking the note from Merlin's hand.

"He specifically said-"

"And I specifically decline," Iellwen interrupted. The young warlock frowned in annoyance as she looked down at the note. A moment later, she handed it back to him. "It is of no importance."

"What does it say?" Merlin inquired. "Who is it from?" The priestess shrugged nonchalantly and began arranging her cloak on her shoulders.

"It's from Barathon. He only warns Arthur to stop searching for him and that what he is doing in the Kingdom of Camelot is nobody's business but his own."

"You're sure that's all it says?" Merlin said, looking down at the note intently.

"That's all it says," Iellwen confirmed with a forced smile. "Let me know how Arthur fares tonight and alert me if there is any serious change." Merlin's head snapped up in surprise.

"You're going?" he asked. "How am I supposed to contact you?" The elven priestess's smile was genuine this time as pulled up her hood and tapped her temple playfully.

She began walking away and as she did her voice rippled through his mind.

"Goodnight, Emrys."

"Merlin," he corrected aloud. She stopped and turned to him in confusion.

"Pardon?"

"My name is Merlin," the manservant said with a smile. Iellwen returned it warmly.

"Well, goodnight then… Merlin."

XXX

Dazed from the priestess's dazzling beauty, confused by the mixture of signals he was receiving and worried about almost every other aspect of the evening, Merlin returned to the king. Arthur was propped up against a sea of pillows, being checked over by Gaius as Mordred, Leon and Guinevere watched. He visibly brightened as Merlin returned and he looked expectantly over his servant's shoulder.

"Where is he?" the king asked immediately.

"Who?"

"The translator."

"Oh, he – he's gone," Merlin replied, deciding to let Arthur believe that the translator was male, "but he did tell me what the message says." Arthur frowned darkly.

"I specifically said to bring him to my chambers," the king snapped.

"I did," Merlin said quickly, "but you weren't well."

There was a pause as Arthur wiped his brow wearily. He was still in no fit state to argue and so he slid further down into his bed.

"Don't you want to know what it says?" Merlin pressed. With a lazy wave of the hand the king gestured for his servant to continue. "It warns you to stop looking for Barathon as his business in your kingdom doesn't concern you."

"From?" Arthur asked. "Who is it from?"

"Barathon, the Unseen."

"Well, perhaps he is less intelligent than we first thought," the king half-laughed. "If he thinks that one empty threat will make me abandon my right to dispose of anyone I wish, then he is almost too naïve to bother with."

"Are you sure it is wise, sire?" Leon said cautiously. "He doesn't seem to mean any harm to you."

"If he'd wanted you dead, he would have done it by now," Mordred added. Arthur shook his head stubbornly.

"No, we will not rest until he is found, now that he knows we are back in-" He was interrupted by a sudden coughing fit and Gwen rushed forward to help him to a sip of water, "Back in-" Again he choked on his words.

At this, Gaius interrupted.

"I think the king should get some rest," he suggested. "Perhaps this meeting can resume tomorrow."

"Of course," Leon agreed, exiting the room with Mordred at his side. Taking the opportunity of a break in the conversation, Gwen turned to Merlin.

"Why did you need a translator? Surely a person wishing to communicate with Arthur would have written in English."

"You'd have thought," Merlin replied, "but the note was in Elvish and neither Gaius nor any other person in the court could translate it." Guinevere paused thoughtfully for a moment, turning back to Arthur.

"So, this Barathon, he is…"

"He's an Elf. Yes," the king muttered, closing his eyes drowsily. Gwen looked significantly more worriedly as Arthur continued, "Which makes him an incredibly dangerous."

"Why?" Merlin asked suddenly. If he was dangerous, were all Elves? Even Iellwen? He had to know. "Why does it make him dangerous?" A little surprised by his servant's outburst, Arthur opened his eyes, paused slightly and then replied.

"They're creatures of Magic," he answered. "They're exceptionally fast, intelligent and their acute senses make them excellent warriors, not to mention their extensive knowledge of Magic in all its forms."

"Elves make formidable opponents," Gaius added. "It would be wise to steer clear of them all together, my lord." Arthur nodded as his eyelids began to sink heavily.

"If only that were possible. But we cannot let him walk all over us. Something must be done."

XXX

"You never contacted me." Merlin jumped out of his skin, sending the armour he had in his arms flying to the ground. As his hammering heart began to slow again, he turned to the girl stood behind him.

"A little warning would be nice," he complained, kneeling to the ground to clear up the mess he had made.

"I did knock," Iellwen said. "Perhaps you didn't hear me."

"Perhaps," he muttered. She gazed at him working, a look of despair passing briefly over her face before he continued. "It's alright. Just let me do all the work."

"How kind," she replied plainly, stepping into Arthur's chambers and shutting the door firmly behind her. "I assume you told the king of the translation." Merlin nodded as he lifted the armour from the floor. A gauntlet clattered to the ground again and he sighed, setting the pile on the table. When he turned around again to pick up the last piece, he found it waiting for him in the outstretched hand of the elven priestess.

Merlin took it from her with a smile. "Oh. Thanks." She returned his smile and indicated to the table. They both sat down.

"Arthur – has he improved over these two nights?"

"Yes, slowly. In fact, he's meeting with the council at the moment, despite the fact that he's still too weak," he replied. Iellwen nodded in satisfaction and set about helping Merlin repair the small faults in the armour in-between them. He watched her carefully. There was so much he didn't understand about her yet. How did she know of Barathon? Why was she so adamant that she shouldn't meet Arthur? And why, when he looked back to her suddenly, did Merlin see her watching him with that sadness in her eyes? One thing at a time. Carrying on nonchalantly, the young warlock slipped in a casual comment. "If you wait, I can introduce you."

Iellwen's head snapped up immediately and she glared at him a little. "As I said before, Merlin, I have no intention of meeting Arthur, and I'm sure he has no intention of meeting me."

"But why?" the manservant pressed. "You don't tell me anything and yet you still expect me to trust you."

"Is trust too much to ask?"

"Yes, if it isn't reciprocated," Merlin said firmly. The elven priestess remained silent and so he continued, "Trust isn't something you can just take. You have to give it too."

They watched each other motionlessly for what seemed like an age until Iellwen looked down at her hands, picking at the wood of the table. Then she nodded. Looking up to Merlin, the young warlock could see that he had finally got somewhere.

"Alright," she replied, "where do you want to start?"

"Who is Barathon?" Merlin asked immediately.

"An Elf," Iellwen said honestly. For the sake of keeping peace, the manservant let this comment slip.

"Who is he to you?"

"He belonged to the same tribe as I do. He was a… friend of my mother's."

"Are there many tribes?" At this question, Iellwen paused and her gaze hardened a little.

"Not as many as there were," she answered coldly. "My tribe are the isle elves. Only we and the wood elves still survive. There may also be mountain-dwellers, but it is not certain." Merlin nodded his understanding. It seemed Uther had killed more in the Great Purge than he had let on.

"You said 'belonged'. Does he not anymore?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"His path is his to walk and his alone," the priestess said bluntly.

Merlin could tell he was beginning to push her a little too far and so he moved swiftly on to his next question.

"The note – the first note – was it for you?" he asked.

"Yes, it was."

"And it was from-"

"Barathon, yes."

"What did it say?" Merlin said cautiously. He expected her to snap at him, in the same manner that she usually did, but instead Iellwen remained calm as she answered him.

"It asked me to meet with him."

"And did you?" the manservant asked immediately.

"No," she replied with the same directness. Merlin paused. There was so much he still didn't understand. Everything she had told him only left him with more questions. Iellwen, seemingly annoyed at the sudden silence, took it upon herself to continue the conversation. "I suppose that you want to know why he wished to meet with me." Merlin nodded and so she spoke again, "He wanted something from me – something I couldn't give him."

"And what was that?"

"My allegiance," she said. Merlin nodded his understanding and was about to speak when the priestess stood up abruptly. "Are we done?"

The warlock stood too and looked her in the eyes.

"One more question," he said carefully. She nodded her consent and he continued, "Why don't you want to meet Arthur?" Iellwen's eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Ah, now, I can't tell you that."

"But-"

"You will find out soon enough. In fact," she interrupted triumphantly, "I believe you will do so before the week is out." Merlin's heart hammered in his throat. Why couldn't she just tell him now? It was so unfair.

"Fine," he said eventually.

Iellwen smiled. "No more questions?"

"No more questions," he agreed with a small smile.