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Chapter Six
It was not quite midnight when Merlin was awakened by voices coming from Gaius' room. He sat up in the darkness. He could hear Sir Leon talking with Gaius then the king's voice. Okay, this wasn't going to be good. They would be in his room next, asking questions he couldn't answer. His stress levels were going off the chart, and he could feel tension settle in his neck. He didn't have to guess what this was about. Arthur hadn't come home.
A palace guard came up the stairs carrying a torch and entered his little room followed by Gaius, Sir Leon, and the king. Several knights stayed below. There were too many people in his room. He fought down the urge to bolt for the door.
Sir Leon did the talking. "Merlin, a short time ago, three horses came back to the stables without riders - Arthur's horses." He paused for a moment to give Merlin a chance to comment. The dark-haired servant couldn't think of anything to say. He looked blankly at Gaius.
Sir Leon continued. "Arthur told me he'd be back by midnight. It's not quite midnight, but in view of the circumstances, we're assuming some mishap has befallen them."
Uther grew impatient. "Did my son tell you where he was going?"
Okay, that he could answer. "No, he did not, Sire."
The king glared at him for a moment then turned and swept from the room. Sir Leon and the guard followed on his heels. Merlin and Gaius stood listening to everyone depart the room below.
"Gaius, I'm going to need some medicine for injuries, some food from the kitchen - I'll get that - and, um, better take a blanket."
"Don't be in a hurry to leave, Merlin. Give the knights a chance to get clear."
"Right. Gotcha."
An hour later
Merlin was riding through the moonlit forest on the mare he frequently rode. He would like to have taken three extra horses but decided not to risk unwanted attention. He had settled for one extra horse which he was currently using as a pack animal.
The warlock had noted the direction the search party had taken, which included - somewhat surprisingly - the king, and had ridden in another direction. He had fleetingly considered scrying Arthur and his companions before leaving but was too impatient to take the time. Plus, he had something else in mind.
"Hebog dod ataf!" he yelled loudly, his hand upraised and his eyes flashing gold. Moments later the peregrine falcon swept through the trees and flew low over his shoulder. The breeze stirred by its wing ruffled his hair. He smiled. He hadn't been entirely sure that would work, the falcon not being related to the dragon.
He halted his mare. The falcon had landed on a low branch just ahead where it sat with its head turned, regarding him with one dark eye.
"I need you to find Arthur," he said clearly, hoping the raptor understood. The large bird took off, and Merlin followed.
A short distance away, a rough-looking, powerfully-built man sat his horse, watching from cover, aided also by the darkness. Cedric, continuing to lurk around the castle (Arthur having neglected to call him off), had followed the dark-haired servant from a distance. He knew the castle guests, having departed, were no longer a threat to Arthur's servant, but he found the boy intriguing. He was fairly certain by this time that Merlin had magic and equally certain that Arthur was unaware of it. Who knew that attempting to abduct the prince would prove in the long run to be so entertaining?
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Merlin stood by the shore of the lake holding the reins of the horses in his hand. He was puzzled. He saw a clear expanse of water, the moon reflected on its surface, no boats on the lake. Nothing but a barely visible forested island in the distance. But this was where the falcon had led him. Was Arthur on the island? He felt uneasy, wishing he had taken the time to scry the trio.
"Astyre." The boat glided off from shore. Merlin had selected the largest of the remaining boats, loaded the supplies and tethered the two horses.
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Cedric rode up to where Merlin had left his two horses. The bay he was on seemed content to join his stable mates. The man dismounted and absentmindedly patted the neck of Merlin's mare. He wondered why the boy hadn't brought two more horses. He looked up. He could barely make out the boat as it moved effortlessly across the lake.
The creature felt the disturbance as it lay on the bottom of the lake. It rose slowly through the layers of water drawn only by curiosity. There was no pull of treasure this time. Shape-shifting once more into a mermaid, she surfaced, swimming easily alongside the boat. Merlin, spying her, jerked back, startled.
"Greetings, Myrddin Emrys," she said, laughing at him.
"Greetings," he returned, recovering. She seemed harmless. "I'm looking for my three friends. Are they on the island?"
"Yes. Tell Prince Arthur to remember my present." She dived into the water and swam away.
"Wait!" Merlin yelled after her. "Come back!" He was answered only by silence.
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Lancelot sat dozing fitfully in the faint moonlight, his back to a tree, and his arm throbbing. Nearby lay the slumbering figures of Gwaine and Arthur. Some slight sound brought him fully awake. A figure was kneeling beside the prince. He started to shout out a warning when the figure turned toward him, his finger to his lips. It was Merlin. The knight sank back in relief. A moment later the warlock was kneeling by his side.
"Why are Arthur's clothes damp?"
"All of our clothes are damp. My arm is broken. Can you fix it?" Lancelot asked, trying with limited success to keep a pleading note out of his voice.
Merlin looked back uncertainly at Gwaine and Arthur.
"Don't worry about the two of them waking up," Lancelot said. "They're both exhausted."
"All right. Fromum feohgiftum on faeder bearme." A blue orb of light hovered over where the knight lay slumped against the tree. He was cradling his broken arm with his good hand.
"I'm not always successful with healing spells, but I'll try." The warlock laid his hand very gently on Lancelot's arm. "Wel cene hole." His eyes flashed gold.
After a few seconds, Lancelot cautiously moved his arm. He smiled.
"It's healed?" Merlin asked.
"Yes," the knight said, gratefully. "Thank you."
Merlin swiped his hand in the air down Lance's body, drying his damp clothing. He then hastily extinguished the blue orb. "Remember not to use your arm in front of Arthur and Gwaine," he warned. "It could get me killed."
"I won't," Lancelot promised. He looked troubled. "Merlin, I don't think Arthur would ever hurt you."
"I don't know." Merlin didn't want to discuss it. "I need to dry their clothing before they both wake up." He walked over to Gwaine first then Arthur. The warlock lightly gripped his arm. To his relief, the prince did not stir. He returned to sit by Lancelot.
"How did you know we were in trouble?" the knight asked.
Merlin thought of several sarcastic replies to that but answered only that their horses had returned. "Now your turn and don't leave anything out."
Lancelot began his tale starting with what was initially thought to be a chance encounter with the man calling himself Pelham. After a few moments of listening, Merlin interrupted. "Arthur has this stone on him? Now?" he asked, faintly alarmed. At Lance's nod, Merlin said, "Hold that thought."
The warlock hastily knelt again by Arthur and moved his hand across the knot. The cord came unfastened, and he retrieved the opal. As soon as his fingers touched it, he could feel the magic rolling in waves off of it.
"Someone has placed a summoning spell on this stone."
"That would explain a lot," the knight said. He continued telling his friend about their disastrous afternoon and evening.
Merlin went cold, fear rippling through his body. "Arthur nearly drowned?"
"Yes."
That's twice, he thought. Someone wanted Arthur dead very badly. He knew there'd be a third attempt.
"Describe to me this man Pelham. Everything you can remember."
Though the dark-haired young man spoke in quiet, even tones, there was deadly menace in his voice. Lancelot regarded him for a moment in silence. It was easy sometimes to forget just how powerful the warlock was.