A/N: Sorry, I put on the wrong version of this chapter on a moment ago. This should be the real thing.
9. Human feelings and other enigmatic things
"Now look whom we've got here" Merlin purred with a velvet voice while he looked appreciatively at the young aristocrat on the ground before him. "If that isn't the most august Count of Llanfair. My, my. Did you fall from your high horse for good?"
"What, how, if, why….. where do you come from?" Antek stammered. "I thought you were….."
"…rotting in some deep dark hole, slaving away for the Gods know whom, never to see the light of day again while you were spending the money you gained for selling me on rebuilding this demons' nest of a castle that will still be the downfall of the whole border region."
Antek yelped when the warlock's eyes flashed a golden light and the invisible hands came back for their prey once more, this time to close around his throat. "You tell me one, just one reason why I should not rip off your head here and now." Still Merlin's voice was made of silk and as smooth as lamb's wool. "Come on, Antek. Just one little reason. That's not too difficult, is it? Not even for a hare brain like yours."
Frantically Antek tried to think of something but nothing came to him. He had sold this young sorcerer to an unknown fate and he could not have cared less for what was to become of the man afterwards. So why should the magician spare him now? Fleetingly the young Count thought of making use of the fact that Merlin's best friend was held in Blanchefleur but he dropped the idea very quickly. Neither the Manor House's walls nor guards would be amatch for a warlock whose thoughts had crushed the strongest fortress in Cendred's Kingdom to dust. Besides, Antek knew he had misused his princely friend enough; even with the invisible hands strangling him menacingly he had no intention of doing so again.
"Good bye, cruel world" Merlin sang into his victim's ear while the pressure on Llanfair's throat became even worse and his vision blackened. "Come on, My great Lord, you know that the Druids have some interest in you, can't you think of something to save your worthless life? Some offer, perhaps? Something you forgot to sell to your dear business partners along with me?"
Antek kicked uselessly with his legs and his hands dug into the forest ground in a frantic search for rescue that wasn't there. His fading thoughts tried desperately to make some sense of Merlin's teasing. Some offer? What offer? The only thing he could offer was his life and that's exactly what this lunatic sorcerer was taking away right now. Harmless? Innocent? Just a peasant boy? Arthur had no idea what snake he had been keeping near to him.
"Emrys" Arenboarth said quietly.
The warlock did not even flinch.
"Emrys!" Louder now, more imperative.
Again no reaction.
"That's enough!" His magic crackled angrily in the air all around him but for all he achieved the Lord Druid could as well have been talking to the forest trees.
"He's right, Merlin. Let go of him."
As the warlock obeyed Uther's command, Antek fell back to the ground, gasping and coughing, only to find himself being pulled on his feet and pushed against the nearest tree by an enraged King. "Now listen to me and listen carefully" Uther said with treacherous calm. "If it weren't for the Druids having some dealings with you, I'd have your hide from your flesh, here and now. But I promise you, if I do not see my son and the others in this place tonight, safe and sound, I will break every single bone in your miserable body, do you understand that, you measly little rat?"
"I think I could send a message to Blanchefleur that they are to be brought here" Antek muttered. "But Gaius is badly hurt." His lids fluttered and began to close. "It's just as well that you are here. I wouldn't want Arthur to be brought to Cendred anyway. Damn asshole of a King! I should have…..I should have stayed loyal to my friend. But you see, I never had a friend before."
With that he fell forward into Uther's arms and went limp. "What now?" the King yelped angrily.
"He's out as a light. People usually are if I use this spell on them" Arenboarth said curtly, his clipped tone and tight lips showing his anger. "I've told you before, both of you; as long as you are with me I will not permit such violent behaviour."
"You said you needed information" Uther protested heatedly.
"And I will have the information I need from him, in my own time and in my own way. This does not include standing idly by while you are venting your own anger on him. That applies to both of you. Now I suggest you go and see to it that the Prince and the others make it safely to our dwellings."
"I will not …."
"Uther Pendragon, as always I am far from sure what's more important to you, your son or your whims. I've told you once before, if you aren't man enough to take care of your child, I will do it for you!"
For a while King and Lord Druid glared at each other. Finally Uther Pendragon gritted his teeth and backed down.
"As you wish Arenboarth, but this traitor hasn't even seen the beginning of my anger." Unceremoniously the royal pushed the unconscious noble into Arenboarth's arms and went for his horse, trying desperately to keep up his composure under the derisive looks of the other Druids. After the group of female and male sorcerers had made sure that Cendred's men had been spooked away for good by their little magical horror show, they had left their cover in the brushwood and listened to the brief but temperamental encounter with much pleasure.
This was almost as good as last time when the Pendragons had been visiting. The shouting match between the kingly father and his princely son had long since become part of the Druid legends; the perfect piece of comedy to be talked about at the campfire during a long and cold night with nothing else to do.
Meanwhile Merlin had had some time to think. The piece of Gaius being badly hurt had not bided well and what had been Antek's last words before he had lost it?
"My Lord, perhaps we should follow Antek's advice and take a message from him to Blanchefleur. It would make things easier and safer for our people."
"Forget it Merlin, I will not wait for that bloody pig to wake up. If they do not want to open the gates for us I don't doubt that you will know what to do about it." Uther had set his mind on needing nobody's help in future. Look where it had taken him to accept the Lord Druid's help!
Angrily he rammed his knee into his horse's side to tighten the belt of his saddle. Damned sorcerers, treacherous bastards, the lot of them. "Are you coming Merlin or do you need a written invitation?"
It didn't occur to his most enraged Majesty of Camelot that he was asking a sorcerer for his help in this very moment. But then the thought that Merlin was not one of his knights - albeit the one without armour and the cheapest to keep - never occurred to Uther Pendragon these days. He had conveniently forgotten that less than two years ago his death sentence for the young magician had started the vexed estrangement between him and Arthur.
"Emry's, wait." Arenboarth shook his head in silent despair at Uther's behaviour, waved his hand and murmured something. A split second later he held a well written note in his hand; a parchment with the Llanfair crest on it, saying that the King and his companion had Antek's full consent to take their people out.
"So you are not above faking documents or other fraud, My Lord Druid?"
"I did not violate the Count's wishes. He would have wanted to do this if I hadn't been forced to knock him out!" Arenboarth was so indignant by now, he almost sniffed. Only in the very last moment he remembered what he owed his rank and dignity and avoided the tale telling sound.
Merlin grinned mercilessly. "It's a pity you are no longer willing to take me on as an apprentice. You could teach me so much; your skill in deluding yourself about the quality of your actions outshines even the Pendragons' gifts for self-betrayal."
The warlock took the note and left the aghast Lord Druid where he stood. Without another look he mounted his horse and followed his King.
"Who would ever have thought you would make an enemy of the most powerful warlock of our times, My Lord."
Arenboarth looked at his compatriot and sighed again. "Not an enemy, Marwon. But I've hurt him deeply. I acted in haste when I made him an outcast from his own kind. Now I guess I've lost the right to begrudge him his allegiance with the Pendragons."
Marwon didn't look very convinced. "Then how do you think to convince him to risk even more in our service?"
"I guess I'll have to convince Emrys that our interests are the Pendragons' interests too."
"But that would be a lie, My Lord!"
The Lord Druid shrugged musingly. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, my friend. Presently nobody can be sure of anything, except that the men who killed Uther's escort and tried to abduct him will come for him again; and maybe for his son as well."
"But what would happen if our unknown opponents were to learn that father and son are here with us, without Camelot even knowing it? We would have to defend them on our own in case of an outright military attack."
From Marwon's voice it was hard to tell if he feared this chance or if he appreciated it and Arenboarth was deeply troubled at the thought that his followers might have gained an appetite for the kind of adventures the Pendragons seemed to attract like a magnet would attract a sword.
This would have to stop. Once this whole messy business the old Count of Llanfair had brought about was over the Druids would go back to their simple and peaceful lives and he would be damned if anyone of them ever went near a Pendragon again. Resolutely the Lord Druid turned towards Antek. "He should at least be able to shed some light on Cendred's plans, even if the King of Cymbria is not the one we are looking for. And he should know what has become of the Rashnijaan. We should talk to him before Uther and Emrys are back!"
While Arenboarth laboured to undo his own spell – a thing that proved much more difficult than he would have thought as Antek seemed to enjoy the time out – Uther was having some qualms of his own about a certain warlock's behaviour.
"What was the matter with you back there? You almost broke Llanfair's neck."
Merlin looked stubbornly ahead. "Since when do you care?"
As a result of this insolent reply the magician almost fell from his horse when Uther grabbed the mare's bridle. "I care because we may still have need of him. Besides, this behaviour is not like you. And if you ever use this tone of voice with me again you'll regret it, sorcery or no!"
"Begging Your Majesty's pardon, but I will not" Merlin stated sarcastically. "Not from Arenboarth's hands and most definitely not from yours. You have finished intimidating me as well as you are done intimidating your son."
"How dare you…."
"Oh, I dare to say much more, Sire. You almost killed your own son for his loyalty to me, for spite you sent him into the hands of his most mortal enemy. When I – I, My Lord, and my magic – brought Arthur back from Llanfair's hell by sheer luck you pushed him away again, directly into Antek's outstretched arms."
By now the magician had talked himself into a formidable wrath. "If you could have made up your mind to accept Gwen a bit earlier, Arthur would still be in Camelot." Panting with anger Merlin shook his head violently. "Gaius would still be well and for once I could have a good night's sleep, without being lashed into, captured or worried to death about the consequences of the next lunatic idea that might get into this stupid head of yours. You don't deserve your son, you never did."
"Nor you?"
"You never had me in the first place. I am Arthur's man and I always will be. And if I were in his shoes I'd take my family and run, run to the end of the world to get away from it all, from Camelot, from Llanfair and most of all from you."
All of a sudden Uther smiled. Finally he laughed out loud and did not stop until he felt the heat of angry magic on his hands and chest; magic that was only a hair's breadth away from lashing out in earnest.
"Hold it, Merlin" he said hastily. "I just remembered a talk we once had, you and I. I told you that you and I could be friends as long as I could be sure of your loyalty to Arthur. I would have thought twice if I had known what you really are. Does my son know you consider yourself his nanny?"
Uther knew that he had prevented this tantrum from becoming something else as Merlin's bewildered face clearly showed that the wind had been taken out of his sails. "Oh, my boy" he thought. "For all your tremendous powers you still have so much to learn. It's much too easy to put a ring through your nose."
And yet, for all his smug, superior attitude, the King had not forgotten the sight of the old Count of Llanfair whom the warlock had sentenced to a horribly slow and torturing death. With the terrifying image fresh in his mind, Uther decided to let the subject of Merlin's earlier behaviour towards Antek rest. Obviously the usually easy-going, kind-hearted peasant had some sore spots in this that were better left untouched, so Pendragon let go of Merlin's horse and graced the younger man with a fond and soothing smile. "With all due respect and if it would please the mighty Court Sorcerer of Camelot, we have a Prince in distress waiting for us. As always."
Much to his own chagrin Merlin felt a smile of his own coming to his face and against his better judgement he mumbled an apology of which he knew its recipient to be most undeserving. To hell with this madman's invincible charm!
Barely two hours later Gwen started and yelped in surprise. As always the sound made her husband rush to her anxiously. "Arthur, look, this is your father. And Merlin."
The Prince's eyes widened while he looked out of the window and found her excited exclamations to be true. The next instant he was banging at the locked door so hard that he missed the sound of the keys that opened it. Arthur did not even look at the unfortunate soldier whose face suffered for his carelessness of still standing in front of the heavy piece of wood and iron when the door was forcefully banged open to make way for a most impatient human being on his way out.
Once more the Pendragon King had cause to chew on and gulp down a heavy lump of jealousy and pricked pride while his only son enthusiastically greeted his warlock friend with a mighty bear hug before he even acknowledged his father's presence. There had been a time in their life when it would have been the other way round and although he was gaining on it, Uther still had a hard time admitting, even to himself, that he had lost his prominent place in his son's affections much by his own foolishness.
However, there was no time for tender feelings; somehow there never was. Which of course was part of the problem.
"Father, are you all right?" Arthur asked urgently.
"Of course I am. Why shouldn't I be?" Uther shot back and could have kicked his own arse for it, as the openly showed fondness and anxiety vanished from his son's face instantly.
"Look Arthur, we have to talk later. We must leave as long as they are off balance. See to it that your family and Gaius get on some horses."
"But…"
"Son, there's no time for buts and ifs. We must get out of here, now!" Uther almost toppled with relief at the sight of his daughter-in-law who hurried down the stairs with the child in her arms. At least the woman was no fool, he'd grant her that. And not even he could deny that he owed her for her graciousness to send him an invitation to see his grandchild. And at least she had come down to say good bye on his departure while this ungrateful brat he had for a son hadn't even...
Suddenly remembering how he had loved tending to his wife, long, long ago, the King helped Guinivere to one of the horses that had miraculously appeared just on time – actually the miracle's name had been Merlin – while Arthur, supported by a very pale Mercator, helped Gaius to Merlin's saddle before the magician mounted himself and took the wounded healer into his arms.
As the younger Pendragon made ready to get on his mount, the Llanfair physician grabbed his arm. "Arthur, please. Something's wrong here. Please let me come with you. I must know what has happened to Antek."
The Prince glanced furtively at his fidgeting father and warlock friend. "Arthur, please. I beg of you."
"C'mon" and ignoring Uther's disbelieving moan as well as Merlin's exasperatedly sinking head and Guinivere's encouraging smile Arthur pulled Antek's healer friend up on his horse and took the lead of the small cavalcade before anyone could say anything.
It was a tight moment when they approached the gates. Arthur as well as his father let out a deep breath they had been holding when Sir Malcolm as the head of the Llanfair knights actually led Mirella and Leon towards them, together with Leon's men. The Prince wanted to ask his father once more about the way this had been achieved but Uther's face was still so very forbidding that his son changed his mind and kept silent.
As much as both Pendragons had come to rely on Merlin's powers in close call situations Arthur felt it painfully that only his father was armed while he and his knights were not. Instinctively the Prince brought his own horse closer to that of his wife while he stared wistfully at the blades which Sir Malcolm had taken from him and put in his own belt. However, the Llanfair knights' eyes shot daggers at them but otherwise they weren't molested, neither while they rode out nor afterwards.
Once out of the manor house's immediate reach, Arthur felt one immense weight being lifted from his shoulders while another one settled down on them. With an urgent glance he pleaded Gwen to stay close by his side.
For a long while they all rode as fast as possible with the injured old man and a still recovering young mother, but in stubborn silence. Leon and Mirella exchanged worried glances when they felt the mood tense between Arthur and the others but they took their lead from their companions and kept their mouths shut. Only Merlin interrupted the common sulking briefly when he guessed the meaning of Arthur's former looks correctly, elbowed his friend and handed him his own sword and knife before he fell back to the end of their line. Hunith's son by now knew himself as a powerful sorcerer who made up for his powers by being - and preferably staying - a lousy swordsman.
Silently the Prince took on the sword belt and made a mental note to thank his former servant later.
Other than this short respite the black mood was bad enough to sicken even the kindest and most optimistic soul. Therefore Guinivere would have liked to scream with nervousness for the accusing stares in her back long before they reached the forest Uther had curtly indicated as their aim, although the prying eyes targeted not her but her husband and old Merco.
Finally they reached a crossway and Arthur decided that he had had enough. Resolutely he reined in his stallion and turned towards the man who had once taught him that offence was the best defence. "All right, father. Would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?"
