"Chapter 10 – Hold Him"

WHAM!

The blow caught the edge of Arthur's jaw, snapping his head round brutally. Slowly Arthur turned his head back, trying not to let his eyes water with pain as he glowered up at Cenred, hatred carved in every line of his face.

"Answer me!" Cenred demanded. "How many Knights does your Father command!"

Arthur snarled, but remained defiantly silent as he glared daggers at his captor. The guards, especially his original abductor, Egan, who seemed to have a personal score to settle with Arthur, hadn't been gentle in their treatment getting him here; already Arthur's face was a sea of black and blue, two black eyes, a worryingly loose tooth, a puffy eyebrow and a painful tear in his lip that had reopened, filling his mouth with the metallic tang of blood. Repulsed by the taste, and by the man leering over him, he a spat a bloody globule. It landed at Cenred's feet, earning another backhand to the face and a bloodied nose.

"Know when you're beaten," Cenred said coldly, stepping back from Arthur, contempt curling his lip.

"I'd never admit defeat to a coward like you," Arthur replied through clenched teeth. "I will not betray my people."

"Always so dramatic," Cenred teased, crouching down so he was level with Arthur who had been pushed to his knees and held there by the two guards. "So noble, so brave. So Pendragon."

"Then I am proud to be a Pendragon," Arthur responded, his lower lip quivering slightly, his gaze fixed firmly on a point somewhere over Cenred's shoulder. Every inch of him ached abdominally; his shoulder was a white blade of pain that kept stabbing him in jerky pulses. Waves of nausea and flashes of hot and cold swept over him, making him fight shivers; whether an after effect of the paralysing drug or a symptom of the fever from the infection he didn't know, but he didn't want to Cenred to think he was afraid.

"Tell me what I want to know and you'll live," Cenred offered reasonably, rising from his crouch and stepping back a few paces to his throne where he slouched down lazily and began twiddling a wicked looking dagger between his fingers. "Refuse…" Cenred said no more, but flicked the dagger and gave Arthur a look that said everything. "You choose."

.;.;.

Getting past the guards was easy, they didn't even stir as Merlin strode past them employing the age old tactic of speed and confidence – If he looked like he knew what he was doing no one would question him, or so went the theory. There was a tense moment when Merlin strode past a decadently clad nobleman going down the steps in the opposite direction, who glanced sideways at him frowning, but Merlin didn't even bat en eye lid, just kept striding forward; one hand laid casually on his sword hilt to stop it swing around and banging into the back of his legs, emanating the swagger he had seen displayed so many times in the past by the Knights of Camelot.

The inside of the Keep was dark in comparison to the bright light in the Courtyard, the few windows there were small slits, barely big enough to slip your fingers through let alone admit any light. Most of the light in the wide entrance hall came from the open doors, spilling into the dour interior in streaky rays that picked out the edges of the sparse furnishings in sharp detail and cast long eerie shadows behind them.

Three passageways branched off from the hall, disappearing into dark shadows, punctuated at intervals by the flickering glare of a torch. Glancing from one to another Merlin saw very little to choose between them, they were all equally tall and wide, all equally dark and sinister looking, there was no indication which way he should turn. Logic dictated that they would have taken Arthur to the throne room, or the main hall. In Camelot the way to the throne room was immediately obvious, the passageways were wide and straight, the ceilings made from vaulted stone, every wall leading up to it had thick, gold spun, tapestries and bright shields emblazed with the Pendragon crest and those of their most loyal nobles, even the floor was inlaid in expensive black and white marble checks. Everything about it was designed to show off their power, wealth and influence, effectively making any visitor or outsider feel small and insignificant. This Castle however was completely different, it was entirely utilitarian in design, if they could avoid any sort or decoration or embellishment they had; it was if some one had gone through scouring away anything that could be deemed beautiful – The effect was the same as Camelot in as much as it made any visitor feel small and insignificant but in a darker, more threatening way. Merlin found it oppressive.

Feeling eyes on his back Merlin knew he couldn't stall any longer, taking a blind chance he turned right, down the nearest passageway. He walked slowly at first, calmly and serenely as if this was his usual path, then glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one else had followed him or was watching him, broke into a steady jog. He tried a flat out run but soon discovered the jingling of his chainmail and constant slap of his sword against his leg made too much noise. It was imperative he remain undetected, so, frustrated by the delay, he slowed back down to a quick stride that felt infuriatingly slow.

The passageway cut straight through the Castle, straight as an arrow, not once did it bend or dog leg, on either side rooms flashed by, most of the doors were closed but the babble of voices and flicker of torches flowed from a couple of open doors.

Merlin stopped briefly to investigate one of these rooms, but quickly established that it was full of off duty guards, and more importantly, Arthur wasn't there. He backed out of the room quickly, muttering something about looking for his friend Will, and hurried off down the corridor before any of them had to chance to reply or really register he had been there at all.

The corridor came to abrupt end at a pair of tall, black, double doors. This looked more promising. Pausing, Merlin pressed an ear against the doors, holding his breath while he listened… There was a murmur of voices. Crouching, Merlin tried to peer through the key hole, only to find his view blocked by the key on the other side. Hissing with annoyance Merlin stepped back, glancing around for inspiration; he couldn't just burst in there, he didn't even know what was on the other side – He couldn't risk blowing his cover, and there was always the danger of encountering Morgause.

A narrow door was set in the wall on his right; bizarrely the bottom of the door sill was two feet off the ground. Frowning he pulled the small, circular door ring, half expecting to find a cupboard. It came open easily, with barely a squeak, revealing a set of choppy steps that disappeared upwards. He could hear the voices more clearly now, echoing down the steps. This looked even more promising. Merlin pulled himself up onto the stairs, swinging the door closed behind him and began to climb.

The steps ended at a narrow ledge, edged by a low wooden rail on one side and a tall white plaster wall on the other that was interspersed with small unglazed window slits. The railings parted the ledge from a drop into a long, narrow, hall, spanned by thick, rough cut, wooden beams. The ledge continued to the far wall, where there was another small door, probably with steps leading down into the hall itself.

Gingerly, Merlin edged onto the ledge, crawling on his elbows to keep as low as possible, so he wouldn't block any of the window slits - In this dreary place the light from just one window would be sorely missed.
Shuffling as close to the edge as he dared, Merlin peered downwards, trying to see what was happening below. He was just in time to see Cenred raising a dagger.

.;.;.

"Hold him," Cenred said, switching the dagger to his left hand as he stepped forwards.

AN: Quick update becasue that last update took far too long. Enjoy! Review?