Hurt and Comfort in Camelot

PenPatronus

Story 10

Throw the Boar

Part 1

Merlin wasn't alarmed that he could barely feel his toes. They started tingling earlier that day when the snow reached his ankles. His shoes were bound to wear thin after so many years running up and down stone steps, trudging through horse manure and hiking through mud. What was alarming was the fact that the rest of his body was going numb, too. Merlin wasn't surprised. He found himself lying face down in a pile of snow. How he got there, he couldn't quite recall. The last thing he remembered was bickering with Arthur as they walked home from a hunting trip.

Arthur.

Merlin rolled onto his back. He couldn't hold in a yelp when he put weight on his left wrist. It wasn't broken, but close. Sunlight illuminated part of what Merlin assumed used to be an underground storehouse. The owners neglected to board up the wooden cellar doors when they abandoned it and Merlin and Arthur, thinking the ten by ten patch of earth covered in snow and sticks was solid, crashed straight down fifteen feet into the earth. The shattered remains of the doors and a ladder lay in pieces at Merlin's feet.

"Arthur?" Merlin grunted. He squinted but could only make out basic shapes – two of each. Merlin didn't want to think for too long about why he was seeing double, or where his headache came from. He started to crawl towards the largest shape and was relieved to find that it was Arthur. "Oi, Arthur, wake up." Merlin smacked the king's cheeks until all of the snow slid off. Merlin sighed and scratched the crown of his head. It was freezing, but for some reason, his hair was warm. Red stained the tips of his fingers. Merlin wondered if he hit his head on the ladder or the ground. "Wake up, clotpole," he said again. Except for the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, Arthur didn't move.

The boar and two rabbits they hunted fell into the storehouse with them. Merlin also had Arthur's sword and bow and arrows, a small pack with two hunting knives, a throwing net and two blankets. Merlin got up and kicked enough snow aside to make an Arthur-sized space. He put the first blanket on the ground and set the rabbits at one end for a headrest. Then he took off every layer of clothes he could spare and wrapped Arthur in a tight cocoon, carried him to the dry spot and covered him with the second blanket. The work made him dizzy, and slightly nauseous. He stuffed clean snow into his mouth a chewed it into liquid. The sun was setting and already halfway blocked by pregnant snow clouds.

"We have to get out of here by nightfall," Merlin said aloud, "and back to Camelot before that storm hits." He set aside the pain and nausea, and got to work.

Arthur was so cold he felt hot. A burning itch like fire ants woke him up. Snowflakes kissed his eyes. The sky came into view several blinks later. The rising star, Venus, winked back and Arthur realized, with a start, that it was sundown. He sat up and several layers of clothes pooled in his lap, dumping fresh snow on his exposed hands. A small fire burned at his feet. Out of habit, more than anything, he bellowed, "Merlin?"

"Up here," said a timid voice. Arthur twisted in his seat and found himself face to face with a tree root. Four feet above the root was a dagger stuck in the dirt wall with Merlin balancing on it with one foot. He'd stabbed the wall with a second knife, creating a short sort of staircase, but was having trouble pulling himself any higher by his fingernails.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked.

"Saving… us…" Merlin grunted. He pierced the wall with Arthur's sword and managed to climb a foot higher.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Saving us, eh?" Arthur climbed to his knees but the moment he put weight on his right leg it refused to support him. Arthur yelped – tears of pain flew out of his eyes as if he'd spit them. He collapsed to his side and hugged his leg.

"Is it broken?" Merlin called down.

Arthur's jaw clenched so tight he wondered if he could break his teeth. "I-I think part of the bone broke the skin." Arthur looked up to see Merlin reach over his shoulder and withdraw an arrow from Arthur's quiver. The dirt wall didn't cooperate when the sorcerer tried to insert the arrow for use as another foothold and before Arthur could shout a warning, Merlin slipped. He landed on his feet, barely. "I tried to dig footholds into the dirt but it's too loose to hold my weight," Merlin said.

Merlin's jaw started chattering from cold and Arthur kicked himself when he realized that his friend had given most of his clothes to him. "Merlin, come here," he said, and lifted the blankets.

"What?"

Arthur grabbed him by the collar and pulled him. "Merlin, your lips are turning blue, get under the blankets." Merlin didn't argue. The two friends sat back against the wall with the clothes and blankets covering them both.

Arthur shivered. "I'll just make you colder," Merlin pointed out.

"I need to make you warmer." Arthur rubbed his friend's arms until the shivering subsided. "Come on, now. Yammer away. I need a distraction from my leg." Merlin suddenly clenched his eyes shut and took a deep, steadying breath, the type Arthur always took right before a jousting match. "What is it?" Arthur asked tenderly.

Merlin pointed at his head. "I see two of you."

"What?"

Merlin gestured again. "Head. Bumped it."

"Well hopefully it knocked some sense into you and not out. You can't afford to lose the few smarts you have."

"Funny. Very funny. There's wood from the ladder. I should brace your leg with it; use the rope from the net."

"I don't know. Maybe we should burn everything we have. Gwen will send the knights after us when we don't show up. They'll see the smoke."

"And if the fire gets out of control? What then? We'd roast in this hole, Arthur." Merlin massaged the bridge of his nose. "We could throw the boar."

"What?"

"The boar. Tie the net to him, toss him up, get him caught in some shrub and then we can climb out."

"Throw the boar…" Arthur chuckled. "My sword would be better. I can throw it, implant it in a tree. I can't climb with a broken leg, though."

"And I can't with a sprained wrist. Fine pair, we are." Suddenly Merlin shoved the blankets aside and sprinted to the opposite corner of the storehouse. Arthur heard him vomit, cough, then vomit again. Merlin covered up the mess with snow and collapsed back onto his haunches. "I hurt my head," he said, "what does that have to do with my stomach?" He stumbled back to Arthur and curled up with him under the blankets again.

Arthur suddenly sat up straighter. "The arrows. We could tie notes to them."

"You shoot those without looking and you might skewer your own knights," Merlin said. "And I don't think I packed a quill and ink."

"My uniform. We'll rip it up, tie pieces to the arrows – when the knights see the red color they'll know where we are."

"Skewer…" Merlin reminded him.

"I'll shoot them at the tree branches above us."

"Can you shoot sitting down?"

Arthur almost knuckled Merlin's head but stopped. "Just start ripping, Merlin."

A quarter of an hour later they had red pieces of cloth tied to six arrows. Merlin helped Arthur get up and balance on his left leg. The king's face turned as white as the snow and Merlin was so dizzy he could barely hold himself still, let alone Arthur as well. They got their footing, finally, and Merlin handed the arrows to Arthur. The king shot all six at the trees but only landed one arrow. "They'll see it," Merlin reassured him. "Someone will see it. Arthur…" He swayed and said, hurriedly, "Arthur, I have to put you down." Merlin unceremoniously dropped the king onto his ground and then puked in the corner again. When he returned to Arthur, he found the king's eyes drooping. Merlin selected two pieces of wood from the ladder and knelt in front of him. "Let's brace that leg, then."

Arthur shook his head. "Can't waste the wood. We don't know how long we'll be here. If it's all night we'll need to burn everything we've got."

Merlin was too tired to argue. He tossed the wood into the flames and then settled back down at Arthur's side. Carefully he covered him with the blankets, leaving no skin bare, tucking them in beneath Arthur's chin. Then he gently pulled Arthur's body against his and rubbed his arms until he was able to feel his fingers again with their combined body heat.

"Don't you ever tell Guinevere about this," Arthur murmured.

"No promises," was Merlin's retort. "If you need to sleep…"

Arthur's eyes already closed. "Wake me when they rescue us." Arthur fell asleep against Merlin's shoulder and began to snore.

Merlin's eyes glowed gold and the fire grew hotter just as the skies started to spit ice at them. "Stay awake," Merlin ordered himself. "Just stay awake…"

To Be Continued