A Test of Friendship~ Chapter 9~ Escape
A/N~ Sorry, had exams last week, which sucked. I rewrote part of the Prologue, as I had a slight change of plans. Its nothing super important, but you can reread it if you want. Not required to continue the story. And I really don't like this chapter. At. All.
WARNING: Adult themes hinted in this chapter, just so you know. Faint, but there. And a battle sequence. Mild bloody scene.
ENJOY!
"The boy's not talking, my lord." Fastion said, face flushing slightly. He had thought the servant would have talked. He'd tried everything in his power. He even called upon Burns and his knife to slice the boy's back open, and still, he said nothing. Well, he'd screamed, but other than that…
"Are you telling me, the great Fastion of Mercia, can't get a filthy, pathetic slave to give me the information that I require to conquer and destroy Camelot? Forgive me." Azor let out a bellowing laugh, and Fastion stiffened. He was reasonably prepared for the lashing out, but this was a little unsettling. Everyone in the camp had been waiting, for something good to come out of their downfall.
They had no home. Their home was gone, and all that was left was a pitiful camp full of outcasts, all of whom were desperate for a shred of hope. This boy, this servant was their last chance to take back what they rightfully deserved. Did they not? After what their corrupt and weak king did. Letting that blonde witch, Morgause, twist his heart until she controlled the kingdom without even climbing into bed with the man. Powerful indeed.
None of that mattered now, after their once great kingdom had fallen into a ruinous wasteland, all that mattered was getting it back. His only job, was to get as much information out of the servant as he could, and he had failed to do even that.
"I can't believe that I've gotten this far, so close, and that boy has to ruin it for me. And you, you'll never see that wench of your's again." Azor growled, glaring, and Fastion's eyes widened in fear.
"Well…he-he did say… something." Fastion dared to whisper, hoping it would help the situation.
The knight narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. "Come again?" He whispered dangerously.
"The-the boy said something, before we stopped. I don't think he is in his right mind, but…He said he was Emrys, and that he would protect Camelot, no matter what." Fastion spilled the news out quickly, and watched. Waiting.
"Did you say Emrys? The Emrys?" Fastion nodded, and Azor smiled. "Your brilliant Fastion! Brilliant! We may have found our savior!"
"SIR AZOR! SIR AZOR! THE BOY IS ESCAPING!" Yells and clatter arose from the silence that was, and the two paled, running out of the tent in time to see a dozen soldiers run after the fleeing Merlin.
"Oh, God. He knows, Azor, he knows about everything." Fastion whispered, feeling faint.
"Then do something! Now! Someone, kill him!" Azor screamed into the air, and he pulled out his sword.
For a moment, Fastion felt the world slow. Every brain cell he had was working, thinking, conjuring, and he let his magic, the darkness inside him, take over. His hand raised toward the runaway servant, and spoke.
"OFERGITOLIAN!" And Fastion's world disappeared in a flash of white.
"Come on." The poorly dressed soldier dragged Merlin unceremoniously though the camp, practically dragging the servant. As if Merlin's day hadn't been horrid enough, being tortured and nearly loosing his mind in the process. He could remember exactly what had happened, just that he had revealed his secret identity, thinking the evil man would just leave him alone. Of course, it didn't work, but its not like he had anything to loose.
His interrogator, Fastion, took great pleasure in telling him all about their plans on taking over Camelot. Of course, some of it was fuzzy, considering the amount of blood he had lost. But in essence, they planned on a sneak attack of some sort, which is probably why the man keep asking him about the tunnel system beneath the great castle. After what felt like hours of torture, he finally gave up, noticeably nervous. Azor wasn't going to be happy with him.
Right now, he wished he had practiced healing, instead of making various objects in his room float. Gaius hated that. But he muttered a short spell, just enough to replenish some of his waning strength.
And it was right about then, he decided to run. It caught the soldier by surprise, because Merlin had been completely limp only seconds before. So Merlin did what was instinctual. His eyes burned gold and the man flew backward. Merlin didn't wait to see where he landed, he just turned and took off.
Funny, he was always running somewhere. To Arthur's chambers, in an attempt to be on time for once in his life. Or maybe running from bandits, as he and Arthur had done many times. Running to pull Arthur out of the daggers path. Running to save Arthur from the Sidhe. Running to get more herbs for Gaius. For once, could he just stay in one spot and relax?
He could hear the commotion behind him and he knew this was his only chance to escape. He did his best to pick up his speed. He was almost out of the encampment, almost.
That was when it hit him, literally. A blinding white light came around him and swallowed him, leaving him lost in what felt like a vast plain of nothingness. Merlin had never felt so strange, even in comparison to becoming an eighty year-old man couldn't compare. Every thought, every noise, scent, and sight seemed to fade.
Somewhere, in the nothingness, he felt a presence. Like a colossus hand looming above him. His mind felt it take over, and it felt dark, wrong, and invasive. And it pulled at him, aggressive and angry, but with a sort of gleeful manor. His memories were fading, like the hand was pulling them away. Merlin tried to fight it, even letting his magic free, but it did little to help.
And all he remembered was a sharp pan in his side before the thing suddenly let him go, and he knew it hadn't accomplished everything it set out to do.
And he ran.
"Sire, Elyan's returned." Leon announced quietly. Arthur nodded, and gripped his sword's handle tighter. The knights previously waited quietly behind the giant oak trees, while their comrade scouted ahead. There had been voices and sounds echoing through the forest, and a flock of various birds flew above the canopy away from the noise. Arthur sent Elyan ahead, because of his stealth and speed.
Presently, the young knight appeared from around a great tree, breathless and worried. "There bandits, sire. I didn't see how many, but their heading this way. Now, and quickly."
Arthur grimaced, "Prepare yourselves, but wait for my cue. Leon, lead the right flank. I'll take the left. Try to wound, not kill. If they took Merlin, we need to know why and where he is. Find him if you can. Understood?" The knights bowed their heads and unsheathed their swords. Most of them removed their long red cloaks, letting them fall to the ground. Arthur raised a hand,
"Hold."
Voices floated through the trees, coming closer and closer.
"Hold."
More noise, the sound of men shouting, the clatter of metal on metal, and footfall.
"Hold!"
Every knight present gripped his sword, and let the adrenaline take over their bodies, and the prepared themselves for the next moment.
"NOW!" Arthur's hand flew down, and he let out a roar, fierce and loud. Echoing him, the others raised their swords and yelled, charging forward with the fight on their kinetic minds. The group split, fanning out. At first they couldn't see the bandits, but then they began appearing out of nowhere, running full tilt. They were generally surprised by the knights presence. Arthur approached one, and let out his fury and anger in one fluid motion.
His sword hit flesh and the man fell shortly after Arthur followed through. The prince didn't waste a second, and ran, weaving through the trees.
Another bandit approached, only to be knocked down. And another, and another, none staying upright longer than ten seconds when in Arthur's sword swinging range. The sounds of battle, which had started so quickly and reached its climax, were beginning to die down once more. There were still the occasional shout, most calling out for the missing manservant. Deciding that he, too, should search, he began yelling out Merlin's name. He strayed away from the noise, trotting through the underbrush. It grew thicker and thicker, until it seemed like evening. But it was still midday.
He probably had strayed farther than he thought, in his attempt to find the servant. Not that it worried him. He' d been on his own before, and he could handle it.
That thought left him wondering about his manservant. How could Merlin, of all people survive being alone? He'd left him alone for a few minutes once, only to return, finding the idiot clutching his hand after he cut himself. A sword, he'd been polishing a sword for goodness-sake. Who cut's themselves on a sword while polishing it? Merlin.
"Merlin!" Arthur called out, thinking there was a chance that Merlin, too, had wandered away from the battle. It was smart, and Merlin wasn't a complete idiot. He had, on more than one occasion, been a guiding hand for him.
"Oh, where you, Merlin?" Arthur said to himself. He began to sheath his sword when he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. Turning, he narrowed his eyes, but the undergrowth was too thick. Walking slowly, pulling his sword back out he approached. As he got closer, he could see blue, and plenty of dark brown splattered all over it. He reached out and pulled away some of the branches.
His eyes widened as they took in the sight.
"Merlin!" The prince cried out, running toward the body.
The man was a mess of blood and sickly pale. Arthur grasped his shoulders, and shook him gently. "Merlin! Wake up Merlin!" Arthur looked closer at his servants form. Blood ran fast from various wounds, but what worried him was the hole in his blue, well, now dark red shirt. A shaking hand grasped the fabric and gently pulled it upward. Arthur gasped a little at the hole in his servants stomach. Merlin's breathes were fast, and jarring his body.
"Don't do this to me Merlin, please!" Arthur put his hand on the side of Merlin's face. His skin was freezing, like ice, and his lips were pale blue. "I'm sorry, this is my fault. I did this. I did this to you, and I'm sorry." Arthur gathered Merlin into his arms, and held onto him like a lifeline.
That's when he heard it. "Arthur." Then Merlin settled and became a dead weight.
Ofergitolian~ forget, erase
WORST WRITING EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFE! Review to make me feel better?