Disclaimer: I own neither the movie Quest for Camelot nor the books on which they are loosely based!

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A/N: Hello, readers! I am truly sorry it's been so long! I had been so hopeful that I would get a new chapter up for you when I had a few days off...unfortunately, personal health needs and leftover work got in the way. It's been almost non-stop, and I really should be preparing for my upcoming exam, right now. Fortunately for you (if possibly unfortunately for me?!), I have been completely unable to push my neglected fic from my mind! So even though I haven't worked hard enough today to deserve a break, I'm going to work on this story, anyway.

Thank you, all readers...but especially those who have left reviews! I can't reply to anonymous reviews, but I read and cherish every single one of them. They keep me inspired, give me the will to keep trying to find time in my ridiculous medical school schedule to write this, and remind me of why I love fanfiction, where I can share my love of series, reading, and writing with fans like me! 83 visitors, 383 views, and 2 reviews just last month (October 2013)...wow! I appreciate you all so much, and I hope you will enjoy this next installment!

I hereby officially reaffirm my promise that, unless I post notice that I am discontinuing the story, I am still working on it (however slowly that may be)!

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Chapter 10: Dragon Country

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King Arthur sat upright without assistance on his bed, though it strained him to his limit. He had slept for three days and two nights after Merlin had ministered to his wounds. Said wizard was with him again, in fact, changing his bandages. Once again. While the king found it difficult to agree with wasting so much good cloth and the labor of good servants to prepare the complex dressings the wizard demanded, he dared not refuse the wise and loyal man's instructions on this dangerous issue. But who ever heard of changing bandages every three days?!

When Arthur had awoken on the third night after the attack, his servants and some trusted knights informed him of what had happened in all matters during his indisposition. He had learned of Merlin's secretive tending of his wounds, and how he owed his arm—and likely, his life—to the wizard. Once again, King Arthur noted bleakly. If the old man ever demanded something critical of Arthur, he would be in a terrible position to refuse. He hoped again that they never ended at odds with one another. They were coming close, with the wizard's demands that the knights and servants keep away beyond tending the king's most urgent needs—Merlin himself was the only person permitted, under these orders, to give Arthur news of his own kingdom.

If Merlin's magic had, in fact, been his salvation, this time, though...Arthur knew it would be most imprudent to interfere in whatever sorcery the wizard might be working. So, the king quietly bit back his reluctance and tolerated the pungent, stinging herbal concoctions Merlin used as plasters and the fine, boiled-clean bandages in which the king's arm had been repeatedly wrapped. Every third day. Such as today. Even though the pain of the bandage-changing made him feel exceedingly weak afresh, every time.

"It looks better, Sire. I believe that this time, we could wait a full five days before changing the bandages again." Merlin announced, and Arthur supposed he could see some satisfaction in the placid man's demeanor. The old wizard was not prone to showing his thoughts and emotions freely—he was, in fact, one of the most guarded men Arthur had ever known. If one could truly know a man such as Merlin. Despite his relief at the thought of extra time before undergoing this ordeal again, the king's thoughts would not be held long from his main concern.

"Merlin..." Arthur grunted through the pain of the bandages fastening around his mangled arm. "Has there been word on the whereabouts of Excalibur? Have the Knights recovered it?" Merlin only sighed, knowing that the king would not be distracted from news any longer. The wizard had insisted the king rest and push such concerns from his mind for the past few days...but he knew the brave man would not abide these suggestions indefinitely.

"No, Your Majesty. They have not." Merlin intoned formally. "I assure you, however, that their valiant efforts continue." Much to Merlin's alarm, the king stood.

"I must rejoin them. The kingdom cannot afford my inactivity any longer." Arthur said, suddenly taking shaky steps toward the window and his wardrobe.

"No!" Merlin cried in warning, moving more swiftly than one would expect for such an old man. He caught Arthur by his good arm and torso just as he crumpled.

"There is no choice, Merlin! Would you have me abandon my people, after all you sacrificed to install me on this throne? Would you have me thought a coward, hiding behind the skirts of a wizard's robe when my kingdom was in need?"

"I would have you trust me, as my friend, that all those efforts might not have been in vain, when you die on horseback before your wounds are healed." Arthur only sighed, allowing Merlin to gently support him back toward his bed.

"You know that I trust no one so much as you, old friend. But is there nothing you can do, that I might rejoin my Knights and lead them in this perilous mission?"

"I have done all I can, Arthur. I am weak—it took all the strength I had, that you not lose your arm." So it was true. Arthur digested this silently for a moment as Merlin helped him sit once again. And then the hidden meaning behind Merlin's words struck him.

"Good Merlin—your magic...?!" Arthur asked, and Merlin shook his head, unusual frustration showing through his typical calm poise.

"It is depleted, Sire. I have precious little left, and have been saving my strength that it might be available to us for any emergency that may arise. Helping you manage your kingdom in your illness takes what strength I have; I cannot rest and restore myself as I otherwise might." It was a grave sacrifice.

Merlin was leaving himself incredibly vulnerable, even while taking on a position of power in Arthur's time of need—which in itself could cause the ordinary people, who mostly feared magic and magical beings, to resent him, or even take up arms against him, should too much unrest stir. He had done it without question or hesitation, to serve Arthur and protect him while he recovered. The king absorbed this reminder of his old friend's loyalty solemnly. His character recoiled against allowing such a loyal man to endanger himself in this way, but if he were to trust Merlin's judgment on his health—he dared not ask whether it was calculation or prediction, when the wizard had mentioned death on horseback—there was no way to escape the situation's necessity.

"…what shall we do?" Arthur asked rhetorically, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. Merlin answered anyway.

"Believe in your Knights, and in your people, and take the time you need to heal. Believe in us as we believe in you." The wizard's words, and his inclusion of himself in Arthur's people, as always, gave the king pause.

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*~*~*~*~*~*MEANWHILE, IN THE FOREST*~*~*~*~*~*

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Two more days had passed in a similar manner as before. They reached a river, and Garrett instructed that they were to drink all they could and refill the water-skins as fully as possible; there would be no suitable water supply for a while. Even Ayden drank some mouthfuls from water that Garrett scooped into the pot for him. Kayley worried silently about the falcon—but he is a magical creature, she tried to assure herself, and will make his needs known.

Under half a day later, an acrid smell was wafting in through the thinning trees. Kayley grew curious as the trees thinned out, and began voicing her questions. Were they still in the forest? What was making that unpleasant odor? Garrett explained impatiently that they were approaching Dragon Country, or rather, the nesting grounds of the dragons that extended into the forest from their territory. While it had once been on the opposite side of humans from the forest, the dragons had encroached farther and farther across the years, so that now it would be impossible to go around it and stay deep enough in the forest to remain safe from Ruber and his metal men, if they were taking the main road.

"And what of—" Kayley started, only to be cut off with a shushing hiss from Garrett. "H-have you heard something?" she asked in a frightened whisper.

"No." Garrett replied curtly. "I am simply tired of your endless chattering!" As usual, Kayley's eyes darkened and narrowed at his rude treatment. She tried to be pleasant, truly! But this boorish man simply made it too difficult! She leaned back on her now more frequent response to his rudeness and instead asked more questions, if more quietly, with the express purpose of bothering him.

"Are you sure we've found Dragon Country?" she asked, skeptically, "because there seems to be little evidence of dragons, here! How are the boundaries marked—a post, perhaps? The beasts could label it, 'Here Lies Dragon Country,' that all might know and respect their lands!" She was mimicking his own sardonic mannerisms. His response, unsurprisingly, was to speed up and put a little more distance between them, hoping to drown out her murmurings in the background. Kayley could see, he knew—she would still be able to follow him with her sight, despite her abysmal tracking skills.

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*~*~*~*~*~*ON THE ROADS*~*~*~*~*~*

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Ruber had stolen every horse he could find in Lady Juliana's lands, and planned to buy or steal more on the way, as need arose. He was going to push them to breaking point, perhaps even to death, Juliana realized, and cut the time to Camelot drastically. The noblewoman was kept bound, and sometimes gagged, constantly watched by metal men. She had scant things to appreciate, as dirty, tired, and thirsty as she often was, lately.

On the bright side, Ruber had not visited her for days. She had feared his madness, but while he had given many threats—threats Lady Juliana was afraid he would indeed carry out, eventually—it had been his madness that saved her time and time again. His fragmented mental state prevented him from keeping his train of thought, and he would ramble, sickness of the mind clear for any who could listen, before storming off in a rage, or in presumed triumph, or both. No wonder he liked his servants metal and dense.

She prayed almost constantly—not for herself, but for her daughter's safety. For her safety...and for her success. She could only hope that Ruber's anger and the lack of news about her brave, young daughter meant that she had indeed escaped his chasing servants.

What Lady Juliana didn't know was that Ruber had broken off from the speeding caravan, to track his servants and her daughter in the Forbidden Forest. He had eventually found his men, spewed out by the earth itself, though they could not relay what had happened clearly. When he heard about the wild man and his mighty falcon, he grinned maliciously.

"Let us celebrate, my worthy servants! For you have discovered our blessing and our victory! We will track them through the forest, and they will lead us right to our prize!"

Since that day, they had been slowly gaining on Garrett and Kayley. Now, as they passed into Dragon Country, Ruber and his metal servants in the forest were watching from cliffs high above in the shadows of the thicker forest, only half a day behind. Ruber laughed, full of mad glee.

"We have found them! They will be mine!"

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*~*~*~*~*~*IN DRAGON COUNTRY*~*~*~*~*~*

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She murmured to herself anyway, perhaps for the soothing effect of pretending she was having a conversation. Between her idle chatting and trying to hurry to keep Garrett in sight, though, she stumbled and tripped into a large rock in the way. It shattered, releasing a foul-smelling slime across the already-filthy hem of her dress, and splattering across her one pair of working boots, which she had worn that fateful day to complete her chores.

The sulfurous smell made it hard not to retch, but the urge was soon overcome by fear when a roar in the distance jolted her. She look up, terrified, to see the figure of a huge dragon flying her way. She screamed, looking up only to realize that she had lost sight of Garrett! She stumbled around the rock, fearfully heading the direction she last saw him going.

"Garrett—a dragon is coming! Where have you gone?! Please, someone—help me!" she cried, heedless that it could only draw the attention of more dragons. She was running between a few more of the strange, brittle rocks, when hands grabbed her, one covering her mouth. She landed fairly hard against firm flesh and flushed scarlet, struggling only for a moment before a sharp whisper silenced her.

"For once, hush, before you get us all killed!" Garrett hissed, and Kayley stilled, only to be released. He at least had the sense of decency to try to leave a slight space between their bodies, despite the cramped surfaces. Kayley worried about Ayden, but knew the brave falcon would be safest not stuck on land, with them. He had probably already found a safe perch to hide and watch, once he'd heard the roar. Heart pounding slightly less rapidly, Kayley at least looked around.

They were inside one of the brittle rocks, which was broken open on one side. The inner surface, covered in shadows, was almost ivory in color, and thin, membranous peelings clung to one corner, almost like—

An egg! These rocks—they're eggs! ...perhaps the dragon coming this way was guarding a brood. By the smell of those contents, though, the egg was infertile, and rancid! But perhaps the beasts cannot tell...? She didn't dare voice her thoughts out loud. She hardly dared move to breathe! The dragon roared overhead, and she jumped slightly, only to have Garrett's hand grab her upper arm firmly, though not painfully—a silent reminder to remain silent! She pulled her arm free, though not roughly. It was only part contrariness; the other parts were equal acknowledgement of the message and discomfort with the unsolicited touch.

She understood the necessity of many of the uncomfortable contacts between them—examining her injuries, guiding her over unfamiliar territories of the forest laden with traps and other dangers, taking food she brought back from forages near their camps. It did nothing to change the fact that she was raised a noble lady; the only man who had touched her without express permission in many years was a senile old man from the village. In his old age, he recognized her and thought her still a child, patting her on the head and offering her sweets when she visited the village square. His daughter-in-law, scandalized, had begged her forgiveness—but Kayley had always been fond of the old man, and accepted the sweets, offering a granddaughter-like kiss and thanks in exchange. That had been four years earlier.

Her eyes refocused, and she scolded herself for her wandering thoughts. Kayley held her breath as a huge shadow passed over and she let it out with relief as it passed. She watched it circle far away, pass behind them, circle back again...and then the beast unleashed another terrible ROAR before its shadow circled a final time and headed back in the direction from which it had come. Angry-but-fading roars periodically rang out, echoing in the nesting grounds. Several minutes passed before Garrett stirred, and Kayley took the hint and sat up, herself.

"Hold on—I'll peek out, first." she whispered. Garrett scowled, but nodded. Kayley meant nothing by it, of course...but in this case, they both knew that sight would be an asset. There was nothing to be done about it. Garrett tensed, waiting for harsh words...but despite her inflammatory behavior in recent days, Kayley would never mock him for his blindness. She pretended not to notice his discomfort, focusing pointedly on stealthily glancing about.

A shadow up against the rocky shelf of a higher ledge startled her to a gasp, and she stepped back, stumbling into Garrett as he emerged from the egg. There was a hiss and a figure darted away before Kayley could get a clear view. It had been so fast! But the form of the head in the shadow, looming so large against the rough rock, was clear.

"Dragon!" she half-hissed, half-cried, pulling Garrett to run. Before they could get far, though, there was a hiss and a loud cry as sharp as, but quite different from, Ayden's. Simultaneously, Garret lifted a hand to his head with a pained grunt...and Kayley screamed aloud in agony as a silent voice inside her head shrieked in terrible rage! Her head exploded with the pain of it, and the young woman crumpled to the ground, nearing unconsciousness.