No sooner had he said the words did the doors to the chamber burst open, revealing a small band of knights led by that same ginger teen. "Look," said the boy, his accented voice even but carrying. "Let's consider this in a sensible fashion, shall we? You're stuck in here until we move and I've got more men than you. So how about you put back whatever it is you came here to take and I let you go this one time?"

The men of Camelot looked at each other, not expecting that at all. "Uh…" Arthur began. "I'm afraid we can't do that?"

"Pity," said the ginger. "Men?" And the attacking commenced.

Attacking, perhaps, was a bit generous. The ginger may have had more men than Arthur, but only by maybe three. There wasn't much room in the treasure chamber, either, so movement was limited at best. And the ginger himself turned out to be the single worst swordsman any of the knights had ever seen in Camelot or any kingdom, and since they fought with Merlin weekly, that was saying something. He managed by fighting a defensive and rather cowardly fight, parrying a few blows before backing up and letting one of his knights take over. Merlin hung in the back, throwing gold plates and strings of pearls at his would-be attackers, and magically dropping a shelf onto one of them.

Four knights were quickly dispatched, either unconscious or dead, smoothing the numbers toward Camelot's advantage. The struggle spilled out into the hall where there was more room and soon every man except Merlin had their own man to fight. Somehow Arthur ended up against the ginger, and once more things became strange.

Merlin was, as always, carefully watching all his brothers-in-arms from a safe distance, should they need a little enchantment to win. Lancelot and Percival were fighting back-to-back, and Elyan and Gwaine were side-by-side, leaving Arthur and the ginger alone and far out of reach of the others. Not that he needed the help. Gwaine, on the other hand, was watching Arthur's battle with almost too much interest, narrowly avoiding being beheaded by his own opponent on more than one occasion. They fought for another minute or so before footsteps could be heard down one of the adjacent hallways; reinforcements were on their way.

Arthur managed to cut through the ginger's parries, bringing the hilt of his sword down on the man's wrist and sending his sword clattering down the hall. He raised his arm for the killing blow.

Gwaine, still watching nearby, inhaled sharply. "Aw, heck," he said, voice resigned and unbelievably weary. To everyone's surprise, the masked Gwaine dodged out of the way of his own attacker, sending the man's blow careening dangerously toward an unprepared Elyan. Elyan blocked, but with clumsy motions that would have resulted in a hit had Merlin not "interfered." Gwaine, meanwhile, had darted toward Arthur. He raised his sword to meet Arthur's, knocking the ginger out of harm's way, and with a flick of his wrist, disarmed his startled prince.

"What are you doing?" Arthur cried as the footsteps drew closer. He pulled back, as Gwaine's surprising move had practically ended the fight. All men, Arthur's and the ginger's, were staring at the two figures in black who had turned against each other.

Before Gwaine could answer another ginger, this one in his mid teens—the third so far! Just how many of them did they have here?—rounded the corner and sprinted toward them, with a full twenty-five knights behind him. "No one move!" he yelled as his men surrounded the small band in black. "You are now under arrest, by order of King Lot ap Gwyar of Orkney. Drop your swords. And…platters," he added, seeing Merlin with a large silver plate in the back.

The Camelot men groaned inwardly, but did as they were commanded. What else could they do? Their hands were forced behind their backs. The new ginger produced a rope from nowhere in particular and bade his men to bind the intruders. Then he turned his deep blue eyes—Merlin and Arthur both felt sure they'd seen those eyes on someone else—onto the other ginger. "I see you've managed to blunder your way into a miserable failure again, Garis," he snapped.

Arthur's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. He'd been this close to killing Lot's oldest son? Gwaine must have known the boy's identity; his actions suddenly made sense. He wasn't sure whether to be grateful to Gwaine or to curse him for getting in the way. Probably the first, since they'd been captured. He doubted Lot would be inclined to show anyone any measure of mercy if his first born was dead.

Prince Garis scoffed, still looking in disbelief at the black figure that was Gwaine. "I thought there were only four of them, G'reth. How was I supposed to know three more were sneaking past your men?"

Prince G'reth turned almost as red as his hair. "It was only luck that you saw them and you know it."

"If you insist. Shall we take them to the dungeons, then?"

G'reth shook his head. "Elaine woke Father and some of the councilmen when you threw the Silent Alarm. We're taking them all before the king. Right now."


I have no self control. LAST CHAPTER TODAY, I PROMISE.