Author's Note: Thanks very much for the continued support and apologies for the delay in putting up this chapter. Real life grown-up stuff like shouting at electricity companies appears to have distracted me for a couple of days. Hope it was worth the wait.
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Merlin continued to stand in the courtyard unnerved by the blank look on his friend's face. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought he was dealing with a simpleton. One thing was certain, he could not allow this Arthur to be the only one who survived. This ghost-being might look like Arthur, but this Arthur was no more capable of ruling Camelot than of turning Morgana into a frog. He sighed and asked the question again.
'Arthur, what is it that you want me to do?'
'We have to…' the price began.
'I know we have to save Camelot,' Merlin responded in frustration, 'but how can we? I mean, look at it!' He gestured around, noting the complete destruction.
'We have to…' Arthur began again. Merlin rolled his eyes. The prince evidently wasn't going to be any help in figuring this out.
'All right,' he sighed. 'Come on.' He grabbed Arthur by the wrist and in the absence of instructions, headed in the direction of the lower town, from where the loudest screaming was emanating. As they approached, he saw the reason why. A large proportion of the town was already on fire and the rest was in grave danger of being incinerated. The townspeople had each grabbed pieces of sacking and were desperately attempting to beat out the fire before it spread any further. Grabbing a blanket and passing one to Arthur, he joined the endeavour.
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'The gates of the castle are wide open!' Morgana exclaimed in horror. 'If we don't do something the Calderanians will come back and take over the castle while everyone's asleep.' She strode down the stairs and into the servants' quarters, where she proceeded to wake up everyone she could find. 'I want the castle locked down,' she demanded. 'Raise the drawbridge and lock all the exits. I don't want anyone getting in or out.'
'My lady?' One of the older servants stared at her in confusion.
'I have received word that Camelot is about to be attacked,' she lied expertly. 'Since the army of Camelot is already outside the castle, there will be no need for anybody to either enter or leave until the conflict is over.'
'If the army is not here, my lady, how are we to defend ourselves?' one astute servant queried. Morgana thought for a moment. The man was right.
'The king rode out to recall the army earlier today,' she explained, 'but he is not yet aware of the current situation. Before the gates are closed you must saddle a fast horse and take a message to the king. Explain that Camelot is in danger and request that he expedite his return. The rest of you,' she looked around, 'wake up the town and tell everyone to arm themselves with any weapon they can find. We won't fight unless we have to, but the fate of the kingdom may yet depend on us.'
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'Look, I came here to order you back to Camelot,' Uther shouted to anyone who could hear him. The guards had escorted him to a nearby tent he had been bound and left alone. 'Do you want to go to war?' he demanded. 'Let me speak to Sir Edward.' His demands finally received a response.
'Sir Edward is not here,' the guard replied. 'If you really were the king, you'd know that. Sir Edward is a member of your envoy to Calderania.'
'I didn't send anyone to Calderania,' the king argued, 'and I didn't send anybody to war. This has all been a part of some kind of plot by the enemies of Camelot.' The guard rolled his eyes.
'Of course it has, sire. Sir Thomas took the order directly from you,' he continued.
'Then let me speak to Sir Thomas,' Uther asked desperately as the guard began to walk away. 'Do you really want to be the one responsible for a war that could have been avoided?' The king's final desperate plea struck a chord with the man.
'Very well, I will convey your request to Sir Thomas,' the guard finally agreed, 'but let me warn you now, any man caught impersonating the king will not be granted mercy.'
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Merlin glanced around at the utter devastation surrounding them then across at the figure of Arthur, who was mechanically beating the sackcloth against the flames. If anything it seemed to Merlin that the prince's form was becoming more indistinct, though he couldn't be sure that the effect wasn't caused by the smoke billowing from much of the town. Looking around, Merlin already knew that they were fighting a lost cause. Even the townspeople had given up and fled from the burning buildings and falling masonry, leaving only Merlin and Arthur to battle the heightening flames. Gaius had been right – this distraction had achieved nothing save to bring both of them closer to death. Whatever Merlin was supposed to be doing, this wasn't it.
The warlock stopped to take a closer look at his friend. The prince was definitely fading – no amount of smoke could be responsible for his current translucent appearance. Merlin considered this for a moment. When Arthur had first been cut, he had been almost coherent. Now, many hours later he was fading away. The effect was clearly greater when the soul had been damaged for some time. Merlin could not help but wonder whether the prince would start to fall apart like his beloved castle. No sooner had the thought entered his head than he stopped, stunned. It couldn't be that simple, could it? It had to be.
'Merlin, you idiot!' he told himself in a tone of voice the warlock normally only heard from Arthur himself. 'How could you not have noticed?' Merlin vaguely recalled asking himself what seemed like hours ago. 'What is Arthur passionate about?' How could he have been so blind to the obvious? The warlock mentally cursed himself. If he had taken Gaius' advice and been objective from the beginning, he might have figured this out hours ago.
'That's it. Isn't it?' he asked the pale figure standing beside him. 'This castle, this land, these people. All of it. It's the other half of your soul, isn't it?' Perhaps predictably, the spectre of his friend failed to answer. 'I mean, it's so obvious,' he continued. 'You'd do anything to protect Camelot, even sacrifice your own life. This has to be the answer! Come on!' he finished excitedly, taking hold of the prince's arm and pulling him to the centre of the castle courtyard.
Merlin sat in the centre of the stone courtyard, pulling Arthur down to join him. He kept one hand firmly wrapped around the prince's wrist and placed the other beside him on the stone cobbles. 'This has to work,' he told himself.
'Mai beth siwrnai was chrynswth bod asethedig ail,' he shouted. For a moment nothing happened, and he feared he had been wrong after all, then suddenly the torment began. Gaius had told him that he must act as a conduit for the rejoining of Arthur's soul, but what he hadn't expected was the flood of sensations passing through him, like wind through a tunnel. As the absolute agony hit, he realised that it had been the castle itself he had heard screaming. This physical pain, he realised, was the result of the effect that the sword's poison was still having on Arthur's body. Merlin immediately felt both grateful and guilty that it had been the prince, and not he, who had endured this level of pain for the past several hours. After the excruciating wave of agony came a rush of emotions, the intensity of which caused Merlin to worry his head was about to explode. He felt Arthur's passion for life and his absolute devotion to everything he did, he was exposed to the vital energy that defined the prince's actions and he experienced the overwhelming love that Arthur had for his future kingdom, his friends, and his people. When the rush was finally over, Merlin slumped back, eyes closed in exhaustion.
'Gaius, you were so wrong,' he whispered, 'they all were.' Merlin felt with absolute certainty that he knew what had killed the last mage to attempt this, and it was only a matter of good fortune that he had not met his demise in the same way. Merlin was a highly emotional being who felt everything deeply. Even so, the intensity of Arthur's emotions had been almost enough to destroy him. Any man who was controlled and emotionless would be driven insane by the mere thought of that much uncontrolled feeling. Just as Merlin thought he was about to pass out, he heard a weak voice from somewhere beside him.
'Merlin?' The warlock forced himself to open his eyes and sit up. He now appeared to be in a white room, completely empty except for Arthur lying nearby. Reassuringly, the Prince once again appeared whole. More worryingly, he was writhing in agony.
'Arthur,' Merlin answered, firmly grasping his master's hand.
'It hurts so much,' the prince confided. 'I don't think I can take this for much longer.' Merlin tightened his grip.
'We've dealt with everything except the poison,' the warlock informed the older man, 'and Gaius should be able to administer an antidote very soon. You're going to be fine, trust me.'
'Always,' Arthur replied immediately.
Merlin closed his eyes. When he reopened them, he found himself back in Gaius' chambers, still holding the prince tightly.
'Well?' the elderly man demanded.
'I did it,' his protégé grinned. 'Tell bou'' t later,' he slurred, his eyes slipping closed. Gaius smiled. Taking hold of the antidote, he lifted the prince's head slightly and forced the liquid down the young man's throat. His ministrations complete, he turned his attention to the younger man, who was now sleeping soundly. He placed a kiss on Merlin's forehead, his simple gesture expressing the relief he couldn't put into words that the young man had once again survived his adventures unscathed.
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'Do you have any idea of the penalty for…' Sir Thomas began. His eyes widened as he caught sight of Uther bound and sitting on the floor. 'Sire?'
'Finally!' Uther exclaimed. 'Sir Thomas, if you would be so good as to untie me, I can issue the order to return to Camelot.'
'My Lord, two days ago you ordered me to carry out an invasion. Now you ask me to return home, having done nothing of the sort. Far be it from me to question your logic but…'
'You were deceived,' the king explained. 'I ordered no invasion. The mages of Calderania were responsible for the deception and are threatening Camelot and everything it stands for. You must untie me and we must return immediately to Camelot.
Sir Thomas thought for a moment. He couldn't decide whether the king was being truthful or whether he really had lost his mind. Nevertheless, nobody from Camelot really wanted to start a war and these orders were exactly the excuse he was looking for to avoid it.
'Very well, sire,' he decided, cutting the bonds. 'We will return to Camelot immediately.'
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There was a knock at the door to Morgana's quarters and one of the young male servants she had addressed earlier entered hesitantly.
'Yes?' Morgana asked.
'My Lady, the castle has been locked down and the people are arming themselves as we speak,' the servant informed her.
'Well done,' Morgana informed the young man. 'I want people posted as lookouts in the four towers,' she demanded. 'Inform me at once if there are any further developments.'
'My Lady, your request was anticipated and lookouts have already been posted,' the servant answered at once. He took a deep breath. 'My Lady I regret to inform you that the further developments you fear have already taken place. A large army has been spotted making its way towards Camelot from the East. We expect the first wave to arrive at dawn.'
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Author's Note 2: The bonus points go to Morena Evensong for being far more intelligent than Merlin and figuring out what was going to happen in this chapter. I'll send Merlin to ask you for help next time. :D