Chapter 8: The Fog
Morgana was just about to think about how she knew those crooked ears and that deformed nose from somewhere, when the pain in her abdominal started again. She was just about to realize the connection with mounting horror until the pain wiped it from her mind.
Hold on to Arthur, Morgana. That was all she could think of as they ascended another large hill. Hold on to Arthur and do not let go.
She vaguely wondered how far away the cave was.
Pain was pushing her down into a dim, small, tormenting little world of her own. Down she spiraled as she felt each intense pang and tried not to cry out. It would be over soon, she told herself. It would all be over soon.
Suddenly, they stopped. Why had they stopped? There was no time for that! Lifting her head weakly, Morgana looked around Arthur once again and saw a line of men at the top of the hill, blocking their path.
There was at least seven of them, all fitted in dark armor and each holding a sharp, gleaming sword. She could see no faces, only unblinking eyes that glinted in the light of the moon. Their black cloaks flapped in the wind.
"Let us pass," Arthur called out in a commanding voice. "We have urgent business and have no wish for confrontations."
The seven men said nothing. They each took a step forward and raised their swords halfway into the air, all at the same precise moment. Through her haze of pain, Morgana wondered if they were nonhuman…or just simply well trained.
The horse they were on stepped back a few paces and Arthur put a reassuring hand on Morgana's hands, which were clasped around his waist. It was like he could tell what she was thinking: they did not need this right now. They did not need any more complications.
The little army was slowly marching down the hill towards them, their weapons still poised to attack. As her pain slowly dulled for the moment, Morgana glanced behind. They were in the worst possible position. If they turned and fled downhill, they would be overcome quickly. How could they expect to outride such knights…if that was even what they were…when they hadn't received a warning or a head start?
Arthur slide off the horse and placed the reins firmly into Morgana's hands.
Morgana stared down at him in alarm. "Arthur, no. Don't even think about it."
"Too late," Arthur muttered darkly, pulling his sword from his sheath and gently pushing Morgana's horse towards the others.
Sir Leon was riding over to join him, but Arthur waved him away. "You must make sure they get to where they need to go!"
"You will be outnumbered!" Leon insisted.
"I will be fine," Arthur said as he stood watching the men coming down the hill for a moment, before turning sharply to the others. "Well, go!"
Merlin had opened his mouth to say something, but Arthur gave him a warning look. "All of you!"
But it was quite too late by that point, as the seven men charged and Arthur immediately lifted his sword to fend off the attackers. Leon joined the fight on his horse, slashing ferociously at the men as he rushed to defend Arthur. As they fought, they both tried to push their attackers further up the hill and away from Morgana. It didn't seem to be working so well.
Caught in the middle of it, Morgana clung to the reins in frustration. If only she could trade her pregnant belly for a sword.
A strange, white fog was surrounding her, a fog that didn't exactly look natural. Another stab of pain wrenched her stomach and she felt herself lean over the horse slightly. Sitting up just hurt so much…
She heard Gwen calling her name frantically and she spun around, trying to see in the darkness. She tried to ignore the pain and turn her horse in the direction of Gwen's voice; she tried to find a way through the whirling arms and bodies and swords. Everyone was just too close. And even when she did find an opening through the fighting, she still could not proceed through. The fog was everywhere and walking into it was like walking into a solid wall.
Morgana was trapped.
/
It was the most unfortunate thing that could have happened at that time. Not even the slightest bit of luck was on their side that night. As he sat on his horse next to Gwen, Merlin squinted, searching anxiously for any sign of Morgana. The most he could see in the dark air was the blur of flying arms and clashing swords, and a strange, white fog that was slowly turning pink…
Merlin felt his entire body tense up. Magic. He could sense that magic was involved. He could feel it. He spotted Morgana at that moment and saw her as she tried to ride through the fog.
She couldn't get through.
Jumping off of his horse without even thinking twice, Merlin ran into the madness, hearing Gwen shout his name. He ducked under a sword that almost had his head and dodged knights here and Arthur there. He almost tripped and fell over a dead body, but managed to stay on his feet. Only one thing mattered…reaching Morgana.
And that's what he managed to do. Merlin climbed onto the horse behind her and circled his arms around her to take the reins from her cold hands.
Merlin concentrated his gaze on the pink fog and muttered the smallest incantation under his breath. He knew it was a risk, but he was confident Morgana couldn't hear him over the sound of battle and her own pain. He could see her fingers entwined through the horse's hair as she struggled to breath. And as his eyes flashed their unique, golden color, the horse was able to cut through the fog, running through it wildly.
They rode past Gwen atop her horse, which instantly fell into a gallop behind them. Merlin guided the horse through the trees, further and further up the hill, as he pressed his arms tight against Morgana's ribs, so that she would remain in an upright position and not fall off the horse. She was breathing heavier and Merlin knew they didn't have much time.
Merlin rode hard. He knew he really wasn't as skilled a horseman as Arthur was but still, he rode as he had never rode before, with speed he didn't even know he was capable of. All that mattered was Morgana and getting her to a safe place.
Merlin somehow knew where he was going. Arthur had said to just go up and the cave would be there. But as each new minute passed, it became increasingly more difficult to see. A white haze formed until it was a full, blinding fog. Alarmed, Merlin allowed the horse to come to a halt. He threw a glance behind him to see if Gwen was still following.
She wasn't.
No, Merlin thought to himself. No! There was nowhere to go…unless…
He followed where the fog was the lightest. Perhaps he could get them out of it without using magic. Just a little more to the right and then straight…they were going uphill and that had to be right course…
The horse stopped again and reaching out, Merlin felt a stone wall in their path. Turning slightly, Merlin kept a hand out and felt stone on both sides, as well. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he realized what had happened.
They had been cornered into a tight, little stone alcove.
"Right on time," a man said in a deep voice that held a slight rasp to it. "I'll thank you to be so kind as to hand the Lady Morgana over to me now so that we can get this over with."
Turning the horse fully, Merlin saw a figure through the fog. It was the man with the crooked ears and the deformed nose.
"Who are you?" Merlin demanded. Hadn't they just seen this man not too long ago? He had been standing still, smiling at them. Merlin shifted uncomfortably on the horse. He could still feel the presence of magic and knew it lied within the man.
"I am this lady's midwife," the man said with an eerie smile, "or whatever you want to call it. I am going to deliver her baby."
"You are not going to come near her," Merlin warned in a low, fierce voice, slipping his left arm around Morgana ribcage, just above her belly and below her chest.
The man stared at Merlin for a moment, before shaking his head. "No, no, I believe you have this all wrong, my friend. I must come near her. I can't deliver a baby from five feet away now, can I?"
"You're not going to touch her," Merlin said angrily, "or her baby."
"I have every right to," the man said dangerously.
Morgana let out a sudden cry of pain and Merlin tightened his hold on her and the reins as the realization dawned on him.
"You did this to her," he said in a disgusted whisper.
The man began to pace. "Hardly," he said, his voice returning to a light, friendly tone that made Merlin feel sick. "I didn't touch Uther's precious ward." He stopped and gave Merlin a hard look. "But my brother sure did."
Merlin stared at him, feeling the rage flare from the pit of his stomach into his chest.
"Don't waste any more time, Merlin," the man continued. "You see, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Morgana here. We cannot have a faceless baby on our hands. And so that's why you need to let me handle this. We need this child to have a face."
"How do I know that you won't be the one to cause it to be faceless?" Merlin challenged.
"Because I want it to live," the man said simply. "Now hand her over, or I shall come and take her from you."
Merlin let out an angry laugh. "Never."
"Unless a faceless baby is what you want," the man added, as an afterthought.
Merlin stared at him.
The man made an astonished face. "No? That baby wasn't planted there for love, after all. I could have sworn that its demise would have been what you wanted."
Merlin clutched the reins in a death grip. "That's not what I want for her. It's not want I want at all."
"Interesting," the crooked-eared man remarked. "It's very interesting how much you care for Uther's ward. Especially since she can never be anything to you in return."
Merlin knew he was using Morgana's status to break him down and although he tried not to let it get to him, it did. "She's my friend," Merlin said quietly. "And that is enough." Right Merlin? It is enough, isn't it?
"She's your superior," the man said cruelly. "And nothing more."
"You know nothing," Merlin said angrily. "She is my friend. And friends don't hand those they care about over to people like you."
The man stared at him for a short moment, before bursting into a fit of evil laughter.
Merin, who found nothing funny about the situation at all, tried to calculate a plan in his head to get past the man. But nothing he came up with was quite right. He couldn't doing anything stupid and risk putting Morgana and the baby in harm's way…but still, there had to be a way…
/
Morgana was lifted from her haze by the warm liquid soaking through her black gown. She had been vaguely listening to the strange man's words, each word making her angrier and angrier and ugh, she was so angry. But the anger was not strong enough to pull her out of the river of pain and misery that she was drowning in. Not until then…
Her water had officially broken, that much was obvious. But Morgana had expected it to be a clear, harmless liquid. She could smell a sharp, metallic scent and as she touched it with a hesitant fingertip, the moonlight showed her that it was blood.
Panic seized her. Blood. But if she was bleeding, that could only mean…
…that she had lost the baby.
Morgana stared dangerously at the spot between the horse's ears. Was it possible that she had just had a…miscarriage? Had the stress and the recent fright and the fire/ice method and just everything in general…had it all killed her baby?
At first, she had thought she had wanted to be rid of it. But secretly, she had hoped that it wouldn't be as evil as Gaius said. And even if it was evil, was it possible for any one thing to be purely and completely evil? Perhaps it was possible to turn it towards good…
Because it was hers. It was her baby; it was a part of her. And she wanted it to be loved.
But all of that hope was gone. Furiously, she raised her eyes to the strange man in front of her. He claimed he would deliver her baby but her baby was gone.
And so he was nothing but a threat. A horrible, lying, deceiving threat that was harassing her friend and trapping them in a corner…and it suddenly dawned on her. The seven men…they had been his men and he had made them attack.
He had been the ugly dog that she had fought for. The dog they had set free. He was nothing but a filthy damned spy.
And as Morgana sat staring at the sneering man and thinking about the dead baby and feeling the blood stick to her legs, something inside her snapped. With a scream of rage, her eyes turned golden and the force of her emotions swept the man off his feet and knocked him backwards, throwing him quite a distance away.
Wrapping her harms around her stomach, Morgana felt her anger suddenly burn out. If the baby was gone, then why did she still feel pressure and pain? Why did she still feel exactly like she had before? If the baby was really gone, why did it feel like it was still there…alive?
/
Merlin had watched the scene intensely as the hard, metallic smell of blood filled his nose (blood that he couldn't see anywhere). Morgana's outraged shriek had thrown their enemy backwards and although Merlin couldn't see Morgana's eyes, he knew they had glinted gold in that instant.
All smiles and sneers had been wiped off of the evil man's face. As his surprise turned to fury, he leapt to his feet and cast out his left arm towards Merlin and Morgana. As the sorcerer began to scream out a spell, Merlin concentrated his gaze on the man, the words of an incantation on the very tip of his own tongue, the sounds just mere whispers on his lips, when the man suddenly fell forward, motionless.
All the thick fog that had surrounded them disappeared and they saw Arthur wrenching his sword out of the man's back.
"You know, Merlin," he said in a cheerful voice that held an underlying malice. "I knew we should have killed that dog when we had the chance."
A/N: I know 2 fighting against 7 seems a little far-fetched, but the odds have been against them before so...:)
Any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated!
