A/N: Yes, I know that I didn't update on Monday, and I'm very sorry. On Sunday afternoon my computer was infected with a very bad virus and I had to take it into Staples on Monday to get it repaired, and I literally just got it back half an hour before I added this new chapter. Fortunately, the virus was removed without a hitch and none of my files were harmed.
As for the story in general, I realize some of you think my updates are a little too slow, but there is a reason I only post once a week. I don't like posting a chapter as soon as I write it, because it doesn't give me time to make sure all my threads tie together and I have my continuity straight. I post only once a week so I can keep ahead of myself in writing and go back and make sure everything's alright before another chapter is posted. However, I do have some good news. Depending on how things go with writing and how far I am ahead by Friday, I may begin posting twice a week instead of just once. My ift to you. No promises, but that's how it might go.
Chapter 5- Don't Go Into the Fog
"I cannot believe these men," Arthur complained as the small group of Camelot visitors sat around a table in the tavern on the ground floor of the inn, sharing a drink and a meal. Merlin was with them once again, and was not looking forward to what Arthur would have in store for him if the royal prat had realized that his servant had snuck away at some point in the meeting.
"They didn't even think about meeting with Bayard's men to try and settle their differences. They simply decided to stop trade altogether."
Arthur shook his head in annoyance.
"Maybe they thought they wouldn't be able to make Bayard see it was that important," Merlin put in. "Maybe they thought they wouldn't be able to get in contact with his men."
"Maybe," Arthur consented. "Either way, Leon will be riding out tomorrow morning to ask for Bayard to send a delegate."
Leon nodded his agreement.
"Yes sire," he replied. Such an agreement showed the level of loyalty that Arthur's knights had towards him. Even at the last moment Leon was willing to ride for at least a two day journey to the neighboring kingdom in order to carry out the need of his king. It was an extraordinary show of just how faithful Arthur's knights were.
"Of course, Merlin," Arthur said, turning his attention pointedly to his servant. "How would you know anything about what happened in the council today? Where, exactly, Merlin, were you?"
"I don't know what you mean," Merlin said innocently, with what he hoped was a blank look at Arthur. The king and his knights laughed.
"You'll have to work on that lying face, mate," Gwaine said, clapping the skinny servant on the back.
"Well, to make up for the escapade you don't seem to remember, you can polish my armor tonight," Arthur told the black-haired boy. Merlin frowned.
"Why did you even bring your armor?" he asked. "We're not going into battle."
Arthur rolled his eyes.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Merlin," he said in mock annoyance. Merlin smirked.
"I bet you don't know either," he replied. Arthur's eyes narrowed.
"If we were back in Camelot, I'd make you clean the stables," the young king answered. Merlin laughed.
Gwaine, who had finished taking a long swig of his ale, banged the tankard down on the table.
"Empty again. Anyone else need another?" he asked, glancing around the table.
"I think I can go with a second," Arthur agreed, and Leon, along with the two guards said they'd like another round as well. Merlin was the only one who turned down the offer of another drink. He knew his limit.
"It will be an honor to get Her Royal Highness another drink," Gwaine said with a mocking bow. The others at the table laughed as the long-haired knight swept up the empty tankards and turned- only to almost run into a man walking past.
"Sorry, mate," Gwaine said with an easy smile. But the fisherman was less willing to let it go.
"Why don't you watch where you're going?" he demanded, dark eyes flashing with anger. Gwaine raised his hands.
"Easy there," he said. "You wouldn't want to mess with a knight of Camelot."
"I don't care who I'm messing with," the man growled. "You need to get out of my way."
Gwaine's hand went immediately to his sword, and both Leon and Arthur stood quickly, knowing that Gwaine's temper was often just as quick as his tongue.
"Gwaine," Leon said warningly. Gwaine let his hand drop and stepped back. The fisherman's glare took in the knight plus the others around the table before he grunted and continued on his way. Merlin watched the man carefully as he strode to a table in the far corner of the tavern. A young, lovely looking woman sat there, waiting for him, and she smiled and spoke to him as she sat down. Merlin's eyes narrowed as he realized that he had seen this couple before. Earlier in the day, he'd seen them at the docks.
Merlin and Arthur shared a glance.
"Seems like some of the locals aren't as silent as their councilors," Gwaine muttered, then continued his way towards the bar to get refills for their tankards.
The fog rolled back in promptly at seven o'clock. The sun was almost gone from the horizon, and Merlin had practically watched the clouds float in from the sea. By the time the sky was completely dark, the fog had overtaken the tiny town, leaving the streets outside the window of his and Arthur's small room wreathed in a grey haze. Merlin shifted uncomfortably as he continued to polish Arthur's armor. Something about the mist put him on edge, made his magic tense. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was just something about the low-hanging, hazy clouds that made him feel like someone was watching him. He kept glancing at the window, afraid he might see a face peering through the glass in at him.
Merlin shuddered, trying to shake the feeling off.
"What's your problem?" Arthur asked bluntly from the other side of the room. Merlin jerked and looked up at him, almost dropping the helmet he'd been polishing. He hadn't realized he had come in.
"Nothing," he quickly said, recovering the armor he'd knocked over. "I was just…thinking."
"Don't hurt yourself," Arthur muttered, and Merlin shot him a glare over his polishing.
"It's just this fog," Merlin added after a moment's silence. "Don't you think it's odd?"
"What's odd about it?" Arthur asked casually, crossing over to his bed and picking up a small writing desk he'd brought along. He fiddled in his bag for a piece of parchment and ink, preparing himself most likely to write a letter to Bayard about why he should send a delegate to Halen.
"It's a village on the sea. They get fog all the time," he continued. Merlin shifted to look back out the window at the eerie mist.
"It just feels…weird," the black-haired servant answered. "Like something's wrong with it."
"One of your funny feelings again, Merlin?" Arthur asked. Merlin looked down at his polishing again.
"You don't feel it?" Merlin asked, glancing back out the window. "That sort of…strangeness?"
"I think," Arthur said, pointing his quill at his servant. "You need to spend less time worrying about feelings and more time worrying about polishing my armor."
"I think if you keep holding your quill like that, the ink's never going to come out of your pants," Merlin replied coolly. Arthur looked down to see what the black-haired boy was talking about, only to find that the ink-laden pen had been dripping onto his breeches. He cursed slightly and Merlin watched in amusement as he attempted to wipe the spilled ink off with his hand, which only succeeded in smearing it and then staining his palm.
"Merlin!" Arthur yelped. The servant hid his laugh, and then grabbed one of his extra neckerchiefs from his nearby saddlebag.
"Catch," he said and tossed the square of red cloth to Arthur. "That one's getting old anyways."
Arthur caught it and used the neckerchief, with a little help from a bowl of water left by Urie on the table, to clean the worst of the ink off his palm. His breeches leg, however, was another issue.
"Can't take you anywhere, can we, Sire?" Merlin asked, eyebrow raised. Arthur glared icily at the boy.
"Shut up, Merlin," he snapped. "You'll be cleaning these later."
"I don't doubt it," Merlin replied, still smirking. Arthur opened his mouth to say something more, but there was a knock on the door. Arthur, pulling his shirt down in vain attempts to hide the black stain now sported by his brown trousers, made his way to the door and opened it. Maria was standing there, her dark hair pulled back and covered by a kerchief. Her eyes were still red-rimmed and tired.
"Urie sent me to see if there was anything you needed," she said softly. She looked from Merlin to Arthur, then lowered her eyes as if she didn't want to make eye contact with either. Merlin felt sorry for her.
"I'm afraid we'll be here for another few days," Arthur said. "There's something that's come up that will extend our stay for a short time."
Merlin knew he was speaking of the fact that Leon would have to ride out and find a delegate from Bayard. It would probably take the knight at least three days to make the journey.
"I hope that won't be a problem for you," Arthur continued. Maria shook her head.
"Of course not," she said. "It's an honor to be the host for our King."
Arthur nodded with a smile and looked pointedly at Merlin, who rolled his eyes and continued his polishing.
"Is there anything else I can get you?" she asked. Arthur considered for a moment.
"Is there a way to get up to the cliff at this time? I'm sure the view – "
"Don't go into the fog!"
Both Merlin and Arthur blinked and looked at the young woman. She pressed a hand to her mouth and looked down in embarrassment, then slowly looked back up.
"I'm sorry, sire," she said. "It's not safe outside at night."
Arthur frowned.
"Why not?" he asked.
She laughed slightly and shook her head, as if trying to shake off her moment of panic. Then she curtsied.
"I'm sorry, sire, I didn't mean to keep you from your business. Please excuse me."
She curtsied again, then turned and hurried away, closing the door behind her. Arthur turned and looked at Merlin, who had paused in his work to watch the girl's strange antics.
"What was that about?" the young king pondered. Merlin met his ice-blue gaze.
"Now do you think my 'feeling' has some merit?" he asked, eyebrows raised. Arthur glared at him.
"Shut up, Merlin."
Arthur and Merlin had both settled in for the night when they were awoken by the sound of a racket coming from the tavern below them. Both sat up and glanced at each other before pulling on their boots and racing down the stairs to find out what the commotion was about.
"And you're sure he wasn't out there, with the boat? Or near it?" Matthew was there, in the tavern, speaking to a well-muscled young man with a shock of bright red hair. He was holding a young woman, with equally bright red hair close to him as she sobbed into his shoulder.
"I'm sure," the man replied in a thick accent. "He was nowhere t' b' seen. Never saw nothin' like it I have. Like it was ripped apart."
Matthew fell silent as Urie swept from behind the bar to comfort the young woman in the red haired man's arms.
Merlin glanced back over his shoulder to see that Leon and the guards had been alerted to the commotion as well. Gwaine hadn't left the tavern.
"What's happened?" Arthur asked, striding forward. Matthew turned sad dark eyes towards the young blond king.
"We've had another disappearance," he said solemnly.
A/N: Okay, guys! Hope you enjoyed that! And I wish all my fellow USA friends a happy 4th of July, and I wish all my Canadian friends a happy Canada Day (which was a few days ago now, I think). Have a safe and fun celebration!