4. Death of a warlock
Down in the dungeon Merlin came to, confused, nauseous and very frightened. When he looked at the tiny window high up in the wall he saw that the sun was high in the sky. That meant it was already in the early afternoon. With a jolt he remembered that this was the day of his execution. He had been sentenced to die in the morning. What had happened?
"Hey, he's awake. Inform the King." One of the guards bustled away while the other one peeped through the barred door of the cell with a satisfied smile. Merlin curled himself up against the wall as much as his chains would let him. His head ached terribly and still he couldn't concentrate on anything or hear himself think.
Half an hour later the guards dragged him out of the cell and to another, bigger room in the dungeon, where they shackled his hands tightly to a wooden post and ripped his shirt off. "Leave him be for now." Startled the young magician recognized the King's voice. His throat constricted when Uther gripped him by the hair and jerked his head back in an awkward angle. "Listen, sorcerer, I'll give you one last chance to die in peace, although you don't deserve it. Otherwise I'll have you horse-whipped and racked until the sun shines through your body. Do you understand?" Merlin quivered. "Yes." Uther pulled at his hair impatiently. "What was that? Speak up!" "Yes, I do understand." The King let go of him and stepped back. "Good. Then you can start by telling me exactly who was behind the attempt to kidnap my son!" The young captive closed his eyes and lowered his head. Was there no end to this madness? "I don't know, Sire, please, you must believe me. I only tried to protect Arthur."
The lash hit his back with bone-breaking force and he screamed while his body jerked at the bonds that tied him to the post. "Wrong answer" the maddening voice said coldly. "My son told one of his guards that you might very well know who was behind the attack, so do not try to fool me. Who ordered this attack?" Again Merlin denied any knowledge about the attack. Again and again the lash hit his back, ripped his skin open and tore flesh off the bone, until he almost fainted. After a while the King ordered the guards to stop.
"Go and fetch my son." The elderly soldier thought he had misheard the order. "The Prince, Sire? You want the Prince to come here? Now?" "Yes, idiot. Will you go now or shall we tie you to the post for a change?" The guard saluted the King and hurried out as fast as possible. After what seemed like an eternity he escorted Camelot's Crown Prince into the dungeon chamber. When Arthur saw Merlin hanging at the post, his face full of pain and fear he silently blessed the seasoned soldier who had told him what to expect on the way down. Inwardly praying that his self-control would not forsake him the younger Pendragon turned to face the King. "Father, what is all this about? I thought…." But Uther cut him short. "After I had sent him up to you this morning Gaius told me that your shoulder wound was bleeding again and that one of the guards had hurt your arms? He even had to go back to his infirmary for some special potions." Self-consciously Arthur looked at his bandaged wrists. "Yes, but the guard had nothing to do with it, it was my own foolishness. Father, I wanted to say…" but again he couldn't finish. Disbelievingly he felt his father's arm around his shoulder pull him into a hug. "I know my boy, I know. It may have been partly my fault, too. I should have known that this monster had cast a spell on you, that you weren't yourself when you lied to me yesterday. I am so glad that you are free of it now." His hands caressed his son's hair and tousled it softly. Arthur hadn't felt something like this in a very long time. "It's good to have you back at my side, my son. Back where you belong."
For a second the temptation was overwhelming. Arthur wanted to throw himself into his father's arms even closer and forget about everything and everyone except this man and what he wanted. But then he heard Merlin's soft, anguished moan and he knew it couldn't be. Little did Uther Pendragon know that his son bid him farewell when he hugged him back with all his strength and buried his face in the older man's shoulder for a moment. Then it was over and the Prince straightened his back. "Why did you call for me, father?" Uther gestured towards Merlin. "As you were his primary victim and you saw what he did during the attack in the ruins I want you to proceed with the interrogation." In this very moment every single qualm of conscience Arthur might have had at his planned betrayal vanished into thin air. "You want me to…?" "Yes. Sometimes to inflict hardship is part of a King's duty. The earlier you learn it, the better it will be." The young Prince swallowed hard. Still he could hardly believe that he had heard correctly. He couldn't believe his father would be that ignorant of any common decency. But then the idea hit him that this could be his only chance. Abruptly he went to Merlin's side and forced his head up by the chin "Small wonder that you can't get anything out of him. He's only half-conscious. I doubt that he could speak, even if he wanted to." Resolutely he went over to the water barrel which stood in a far corner of the room, fetched a cup of water and came back to roughly force the liquid down the young warlock's throat. Then he waited, obviously scrutinizing the captive's face for a sign of coming back to life. "No. Spit that out. Spit it out, now." Arthur gripped Merlin by the throat as if to stop him from swallowing something. In the same second the young warlock's body went limp.
When the guards reached him, he was already dead.