For a moment, he didn't know where he was. He stared at the cave's walls. He felt himself spirited and refreshed, like he had slept for several days. When he turned his head, his gaze met Merlin.
Trembling Merlin, the glowing bloodstone in his chest.
Dying Merlin.
And reality hit hard.
"Heather?" Arthur rose and looked at the healer. Heather glanced at him. There was blood on her hands and clothes.
"Arthur? You are awake! You have to hurry, he doesn't have much time now."
Arthur couldn't move at first. Around the stone, Merlin's chest was covered with the blood.
"Arthur!" Heather begged. "There is a guard at the door. "
Arthur nodded. No time to waste. He put the clothes on that were not covered in as much blood as Heather's. His hands shook and he missed most of the buttons. He jumped when Merlin cried out.
"Hurry Arthur!"
Arthur closed his eyes. Pushing everything else in the back of his mind he concentrated on what he had to do.
"How many?"
"What?"
"How many men in the camp?" Arthur's voice was tight. He didn't look at Heather. He didn't want to see Merlin.
"Dozen. Most of them are sleeping. There is a tent. Gregor is there." Heather tried to remember more, but Arthur was already on the move. He pulled the blanket that was used as the door aside and peeked out. A light mist surrounded everything. The camp was spread all around the small spring. At second glance, Arthur thought that maybe this was the same cave that Merlin talked about. His yes met the guard. Not sleeping but his back was toward the doorway. Arthur stepped outside and sneaked behind guard's back. A sword leaned beside of him. Very quietly Arthur leaned forward and grabbed it. The guard turned to look but only what he saw was the hilt and then nothing.
Arthur looked around. Nobody heard anything. Good. His gaze targeted the big tent at the other side of the spring. Being careful to not make a sound, he walked around the spring.
But luck wasn't on his side. The darkness of night had gone down the hill already, and it looked like his luck was getting worse and worse.
Arthur was only two feet away from the tent's doorway when Gregor stepped outside. He yawned and then figured out that someone stood in the mist in front of him, sword in his hand.
Both of them froze.
It was deadly silent.
Then Gregor smiled, like he was waiting for something like this to happen. He drew out his dagger.
Arthur saw it and he cursed that he haven't his chain mail to protect him. But Arthur knew that this was his only chance. In the battlefield there was no time to hesitate. Arthur was a trained knight and he had a job to do, to save Merlin. Merlin's pale face flashed in his mind. His friend was dying because of some lousy bandit. So Arthur attacked and Gregor threw his dagger. Arthur felt the dagger slice deep, but it didn't stop him. He flung himself forward. His sword's blade pierced Gregor. For a moment they stared at each other. Arthur watched as the life melted away from Gregor, his eyes slowly glazing, smile dying on his lips. His body collapsed to the ground. Arthur blinked. He looked down and saw the dagger deep in his flesh, right below his ribs. It was strange, he didn't feel the pain. He pulled the dagger out and it fell onto the rock. He placed his hand over the wound and turned around to walk back to the small cave, to his friend. To see that Merlin was alive. To see that he wasn't late. When he took the first step his legs gave up and he fell. Lying on the ground he watched as the sky above of him started to whiten.
It was morning.
"Merlin." Arthur whispered and the sky darkened in his eyes.