"Then men are all back, yes?"

"Yes, Sire." Leon slid the marker stone into place, noting the point on the map where the wall's defenses were weakest. "Only a few injuries in the last sortie. The worst was a shield-bearer who caught an arrow in the shoulder. It was deep, but Blaise says he should live."

"Good." Arthur nodded, making a few adjustments to the placement of the other markers- the ones denoting his own troops and where they would go at dawn tomorrow. "And nothing new showing up above the gates?"

"No, Sire," Leon did not have to ask what Arthur meant- no new heads had shown up on spikes over the gates of Blackheath. As far as any of them knew, Lancelot, Gwaine, and Percival were still free, and Merlin still lived. His chances dwindled with every hour- if he was not dead already- but there was still hope.

"Then you all know what you need to do for tomorrow. Assuming our talk with the Sarrum later don't throw everything into disarray, the plan stands as it is. We'll make whatever adjustments we need to before nightfall. After that, be sure your men are rested and in place by first light. Understood? Good. You're dismissed." His commanders, Kay, Leon, and Elyan, along with a few others nodded and departed. Leon, once again, remained behind. He stood near the door, his posture relaxed, but he was ready to leave if Arthur made the slightest gesture about it.

The King said nothing of the kind, though. He stood over the map, hands flat on the table on either side of it, his eyes fixed on the lines and markers without seeing them. His head was bowed as though he were praying. "Am I-" he stopped and shook his head. 'Am I doing the right thing?' was the question he wanted to ask; would have asked, had it been Merlin standing there instead of Leon. The sorcerer would have understood Arthur's line of thought, asked him a set of questions to get at the underlying doubts. He would have said something wise, something reassuring.

But Leon wasn't completely naive when it came to his King. "Is this the best option, letting our fate ride on the abilities of three common-born men you've knighted?" A wry grin touched the knight's face. "Yes, I think so. They had lives before they came to Camelot, and each of them survived on their wits. If anyone can find Merlin and get those gates open on time tomorrow, they can. And if you doubted them, Gwaine would do it just to prove you wrong."

"I suppose you're right," Arthur said. He looked up at Leon for a moment before lowering his gaze again. He caught sight of a corner Merlin's book. A few bits of parchment had ended up on it. Arthur cleared them away, catching the reed pen before it could fall to the floor. He realized then what sound had been missing the past few nights- the sound of that pen scratching against parchment. From their first night on the road until the evening before his abduction Merlin's constant writing had gone from an irritant to comforting, a reminder that while there was war and death, there was still the promise of life beyond it. Just like the blue thread Guinevere had sewn into his gloves. "I made her a promise, you know."

"Who?"

"Guinevere. I promised her I'd look after him- after Merlin. 'Keep an eye on him', she said, 'you know he won't take care of himself'. Then he leaves camp for an hour, and this happens. Lucan's dead, Merlin's missing. . . He saw something terrible was going to happen, he'd been. . . sensing things for weeks. I should have known the possibility existed, that the Sarrum might have some trick up his sleeve. How could he have taken Blackheath in a blizzard otherwise? Now they're paying for my shortsightedness. Lucan's already paid with his life, and Merlin. . . God only knows what they're putting him through."

"Sire?" Arthur heard the question in Leon's voice and gestured for the knight to speak his mind. He approached the King, his voice low. "You shouldn't beat yourself up over this, Arthur. Merlin didn't see anything specific- just shadows and vague images, he said. And if he can see into the future and still not know what's going to happen, then how can you? We're all just stumbling along and trying to do our best"

Arthur nodded. His head knew Leon was right, but his heart needed more convincing. He gently took up Merlin's book and pen and set them next to the stack of reports- out of the way, but easy to reach.

"We'll get him back, Arthur. Believe me. We'll get him back."