A/N: Sorry for the short delay. As you guys can see, despite the votes to see this chapter updated every Tuesday and Friday, I've only been able to update once a week. I'm really sorry, y'all, but with school demanding so much of my time, it's been a challenge even updating once a week but I'm sticking to that, no matter what. :) Even if I am a day late… like today. Also, I want to say THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who has reviewed! I know I haven't been replying and I'm truly sorry – I wish I had the time to message all of you back about your wonderful comments – but as I said, it's been a struggle to even get updates out there because this is the last month before summer break and all of my professors seem to think that their class is the only one I'm taking. :/ But THANK YOU! And now… *drumroll* … enjoy (and review!)! XD

Ransoming Emrys

Chapter Ten

A little less than an hour later, Arian and another burly man he hadn't learned the name of but whose arms were about the size of tree trunks entered Merlin's improvised prison. The light from the sun was blinding and he squinted, turning his head to the side. They didn't give him time to get used to the brightness, however, and before he could see straight once more he felt something pulling on his wrists and realized that they were fiddling with the other end of the rope hoisting him up, the part that was tied off on a beam above him. He wondered how they managed to reach so high to untie the knots before remembering that they had magic.

He braced himself, knowing what would happen when the ropes were untied, but nothing could fully prepare him for the sickening lurch as the weight was taken off of his numb arms and deposited completely to his legs, which crumpled below him, not used to having to support the weight of his body anymore. He cried out in pain as he landed on his broken hand and his vision, which had just adjusted to the sunlight outside the prison, blurred from the pain.

Not given any time to recover, he was yanked up by his collar, his hands still bound together at the front, and then pulled out into the sun. He blinked rapidly as he was pulled through the camp by the rope around his hands. He had been tied up in that dark place for what felt like weeks but in actuality was around two days and the cool breeze on his skin and the sun shining down on his aching body was a blessing despite his battered condition.

He knew what was coming – he was going to be forced to fight someone, apparently to prove who he really was. Of course, if he showed that he was Emrys, they would try to contain him and sell him to whoever paid the highest – from what he had been able to discern from tiny snatches of conversations between his captors, it was between Kings Cenred and Alined, the latter of whom Merlin had met once before, very briefly, but who had still managed to make chills crawl up the warlock's spine at his cruelty. He remembered how the man had forced his jester – his sorcerer – to run, chained to a horse, to run all the way back to their kingdom after Trickler's failed attempt at creating a war between the four kingdoms. He knew the man was a cold-hearted person and didn't relish seeing him again. And Cenred… well, from what he'd seen of Cenred, he'd already decided that had been enough. He had no desire to get anywhere near the tyrant ever again.

As he was led to an arena that had been erected on a great clearing of grass right outside of the shantytown, Merlin made sure to try and conserve whatever energy he had left. He was going to fight, yes, but not to prove he was worth buying. He was going to fight and escape. These men may have ways of subduing his magic, but once the stone was off his neck, he would really show them what he could do. They didn't seem to understand just how powerful he was, or what all he could do. Perhaps their confidence had been bolstered by taking him so easily. But now that Arthur was nowhere nearby, there was nothing they could do to stop him from unleashing his power and escaping. Also, from what he'd seen and heard, he had found no indication that his captors knew he was the last dragonlord. This, too, was going to be a major advantage.

He was going to escape or die trying – and he had no intention whatsoever of dying. Invigorated by the prospect of escape, Merlin focused on keeping his remaining strength and gathering his magic inside of him, limping along behind his captors with no resistance whatsoever. He would be docile for now. But when the time came… he'd be ready.

Arthur and Gwaine were both relieved and nervous when Cenred arrived back on the border of the small, makeshift village and announced that they were to go to the arena on the other side of the camp. He ordered them to all be on guard because the sorcerer might try something and once they had purchased him, they were going to keep him subdued at any cost, any way possible, short of killing him. As he assembled his knights and told them of this, he added, "I'm not sure that these sorcerers are correct in their claims that this is the mighty 'Emrys' of Druid legends. He's nothing but a boy, a stupid, cheeky, stubborn boy."

Arthur leaned over to Gwaine and couldn't help but mutter, "Sounds like Merlin, alright."

The blood seemed to drain out of his face at Cenred's next words. "Don't worry, though – if he is who they say, we'll soon beat the defiance out of him." The army erupted into bouts of cruel, dark laughter and Gwaine and Arthur reluctantly joined in so as to keep up the pretense, both of them seething inwardly.

Arthur could have sworn he heard Gwaine mutter, "Like hell he will," amidst the sadistic laughter but it could have been his own angry thoughts pushing their way to the surface.

Before they had begun the march to the arena, a cloaked, slim, feminine figure had stepped out of the trees and Cenred nodded at the newcomer, eyes gleaming in appreciation. "Ah, you are here at last, my lady," he said in a soft voice dripping with desire. "I was beginning to believe that you were going to leave me to deal with the sorcerer on my own."

A voice echoed out from beneath the cloak and Arthur thought it sounded familiar although he couldn't quite place exactly where he'd heard it before. "Please, Cenred, without me you'd have no way of containing such power, even with your so-called knights."

The king looked a little annoyed at this but didn't disagree as his lady friend lifted delicate, white hands and pushed back the hood of her cloak, revealing a face Arthur remembered all too well, luscious blonde locks that fell down her back, and cold, calculating brown eyes. Morgause. He stiffened but tried not to show his sudden discomfort although from the feel of Gwaine's elbow suddenly in his side, he figured that his friend had noticed.

Arthur tried not to stare at her. He remembered the last time he had seen her very well – she had used her magic to conjure an image of his deceased mother – an image that he had thought to truly be her. She had seemed so real and had told Arthur terrible things about his father, unspeakable lies that had nearly driven him to spilling his father's blood. If it hadn't been for Merlin…

He snapped out of his dark memories at the thought of his servant. He couldn't let the appearance of this enchantress make him forget why he was really here – to help Merlin. No one, not even a powerful sorceress like the witch standing regally next to Cenred, was going to stop him from rescuing his manservant.

Suddenly he felt eyes on him and he glanced toward Morgause and saw that her dark eyes were looking right at him. He forced himself not to move, not to look suspicious in the slightest. There was no way she could know that he and the man standing to the side of him were imposters. She couldn't know that he was really Arthur, the prince of Camelot. After a moment or two she looked away and he sighed in relief behind the helmet that obscured his face.

Cenred and Morgause led the procession of knights, two of them driving the cage-carriage, to the arena where some makeshift stands had been hastily set up. On one side of the arena sat the gruff, gray-haired King Alined and his possy. Arthur felt anger surge within him as he realized that the man had no intention of keeping the peace treaty he had signed with Camelot and the other two kingdoms last year. He had known that the man hadn't been thrilled when the treaty was signed but he didn't think that the man was so backhanded as to go behind Camelot's back and try to purchase a sorcerer on the black market. Of course, there was no evidence that he planned on using this Emrys to rise against Camelot, but it was a pretty safe bet that he wasn't interested in using him to enforce the peace.

As Cenred and Morgause sat in the best seats in the arena and the knights followed suit, Arthur noticed the withering glare Morgause sent Alined's way. Apparently she had no intention of letting this other potential buyer make off with her prize. He had a feeling that she was the one who was really in charge here, not Cenred, although the man may have given into the delusion that he was the one who wore the pants in whatever kind of relationship the two of them had. From the determined, greedy, fierce look on her beautiful face, Arthur knew without a doubt that she would go to any measures to get Merlin – no, this "Emrys" they thought he was.

Of course, Arthur wasn't going to let either party buy his servant. Arthur and Gwaine were going to rescue him. Their plan wasn't very detailed or even very good at all, but it was the best they had. As long as Merlin was able to hold his own in whatever kind of twisted "game" these men had in mind –which Arthur wasn't convinced that he would be able to, even if he did somehow have magic – and he wasn't in too much immediate danger, they planned on stealing away with him, still disguised, after Cenred had started off with him. Otherwise, they were going to have to take their chances and use the element of surprise, hopefully grabbing Merlin and then running like hell, only fighting when they absolutely had to, all to preserve energy and health. They weren't going to win against this many enemies. When coming up with their so-called "plan," both Arthur and Gwaine had pointedly ignored the fact that many of these enemies had magic and could probably stop them with a word.

And then Arthur's thoughts were taken away from their terrible plan (because really, that's what it was – terrible) at the sight of a small group of the bandits, led by the leader that Arthur remembered so clearly from the forest, leading a weary prisoner into the middle of the arena. Arthur heard Gwaine suck in his breath beside him and took an even closer look as Merlin as the men led him even nearer. He had never been this angry at anyone in his life as he saw the state his servant was in.

Merlin looked exhausted. He was paler than usual, dark circles under his eyes. His face was severely bruised on both sides, his cheeks sunken in and lips parched. He walked a bit hunched over himself and Arthur could tell by the way he moved that he had hurt ribs. He was walking with a bit of a limp. His arms were tied in front of him with a thick rope and blood was seeping from the raw wrists. Arthur didn't know how the rope could have rubbed them that raw unless he had been constantly straining against them, which led Arthur to the conclusion that they had hung him by his wrists, a realization that only made Arthur want to kill them more. When he saw Merlin's hand, he had to force himself not to leap into the arena and throttle the group of bandits where they stood. Merlin's hand was swollen almost beyond recognition, mottled with bruises of all colors. His wrist was set at an odd angle and the fingers were puffy and stiff. Arthur had seen some nasty breaks in his time, but this had to be one of the worst. And if they had strung him up by the wrists even after seeing the state of his hand…

He forced himself not to think about it, not to acknowledge the agony written on Merlin's face. They had been brutal to Merlin and they were going to pay for it. Gwaine was stiff beside him and he knew even with the helmet obscuring the man's face that he was glaring murderously at the men who had done this to Merlin, all the while trying to make sure he was alright. The two watched as pain-dulled blue eyes roved around the area, taking in the faceless knights, cruel kings, and then they froze on the form of Morgause, who, Arthur realized, was staring back at the servant with shock and anger on her face.

Morgause didn't know what she had expected Emrys to look like. Maybe he was an old man with a flowing white beard, crinkly eyes, and an overlarge moustache. Or perhaps he was middle aged, portly, and pockmarked. He might have even been young and impressionable, with big scared eyes. What she hadn't been expecting, however, was just who was led from the town into the middle of the arena.

It took her a minute to recognize him because he was so utterly pale, bruises marring his once blemish-free skin. And his eyes… they were cold, hard, determined. Angry. Defiant. Not big, stupid, and scared like she had always seen them to be. She felt her anger rise as she saw the pitiful excuse for a person barely able to stand, wobbling on unsteady feet. Merlin. The boy who had poisoned Morgana. They thought that he was Emrys? But surely not, they had to be mistaken.

They were mistaken, weren't they?

She felt Cenred's questioning eyes on her, knowing that the king was baffled by her reaction. But she didn't look at him, mainly because she was looking at Merlin. And then seconds later, Merlin was looking back. His blue eyes widened and she noticed that he instinctively started pulling at the ropes binding his hands. She almost smiled. There was no way Merlin could be a sorcerer, especially such a powerful one as Emrys was. Still, she was determined to get this prize regardless. She and her sister had a rather sizeable grudge against the prisoner before her, and they had just been offered the perfect chance for revenge.

What a productive day this was proving to be.

Merlin knew what was going to happen. He had vaguely heard Rechrad's voice speaking to him, telling him the "rules," if a sport like this had any such thing. He hadn't really been paying attention. He had been shocked to see Morgause there. He should have seen it coming since he had known ever since the plot to make Uther go mad via the mandrake root that Morgause had allied herself to King Cenred. He couldn't believe that he hadn't realized that wherever Cenred was, Morgause would more than likely be nearby. In his defense, though, he thought a bit glumly as he absentmindedly tugged at his bonds, causing pain to shoot up both of his arms but especially the injured one, after being beaten and left without any nourishment for nearly two days, hanging by his wrists in a pitch black claustrophobic shack, he hadn't been at his intellectual best.

He was surrounded by five men – Rechrad, Arian, two men that he didn't know by name, and Daeman, who had accompanied the healer, Matthew, to check Merlin over. Merlin was surprised to see the latter and found himself glancing around the surrounding crowds for the only man that had been civil to him, Matthew. He eventually spotted him talking urgently to some of his fellow ex-druids. Merlin realized suddenly that he hadn't seen any of the women or children at the arena. He suspected that the "civilians" had been ordered to stay in their houses. He was glad; he didn't want any innocents to get hurt on his account. He realized that Matthew was glancing at him, gesturing in his direction and then talking with his hands. Merlin figured that he was probably trying to convince them to let him tend to Merlin's wounds but his fellows were having none of it. Matthew met his eyes and gave a small, sad shrug. Merlin inclined his head slightly, grateful for the gesture.

He heard Rechrad talking again and turned his attention away from the healer that had been trying to help him. The leader was telling the men their instructions. They were to attack Merlin with everything they had, force him to fight back. They incorrectly assumed that Merlin was going to try and stay safe by pretending he wasn't Emrys and that they were going to have to attack him to make him react. Little did they know that playing "innocent" was the last thing on his mind.

The leader's hands reached forward and started untying the ropes around Merlin's bloodied wrists. He could have loosened them with magic much easier but when he squeezed Merlin's injured hand in the process, Merlin realized, wincing, that he had another reason for doing the job himself. "Showtime," he hissed before stepping back and slapping Merlin brutally across the face, splitting his already swollen lip. Blood trickled from the wound but he held the man's gaze. He was so intent on remaining strong and refusing to back down that he didn't notice one of Alined's knights nearly rising to his feet at the action, although the man beside him did and hastily pulled him back down to his seat. Meanwhile, two of Cenred's knights tensed at the open display of violence toward the young man in the arena. Merlin wasn't aware of either actions, though – although someone else did, their brown eyes gleaming as their suspicions were confirmed.

And then the chain with the stone restraining his magic was taken off of his neck and he instantly felt his magic return to him. Before any of the men surrounding him had a chance to even think of a spell, Merlin's eyes had flashed a brilliant gold and a great surge of energy erupted from within him, hitting every single man in the chest and flinging them back against the flimsy arena walls, unconscious. Maybe even dead. Merlin didn't know and at the moment he didn't care to find out. What he cared about was getting the heck out of here.

The others had caught on to his plight, though, and sought to block his way. His eyes flashed gold again, no spell needed, and the sky grew dark. The heavens rumbled as did the earth. Every man that was rushing at him began to slow down unwillingly, their legs moving like they were in quicksand. They might as well have been – with every step they took, the earth swallowed them up a little more. A crack of lightening split the sky and Merlin thought that that might have been a little too much but he hadn't exactly thought this whole spell out – he had just gathered up the most powerful magic he could muster and unleashed it with a flash of his eyes and a great surge of magic.

They were beginning to panic now. The knights, the druids, even the kings. He saw two of Cenred's knights and two of Alined's running starting forward but he didn't direct his spell at them. He didn't know why, but something stopped him. The way they moved seemed familiar. They weren't running away but they weren't trying to do him harm, either. Merlin wasn't sure how he knew; he just did.

And then suddenly she was there, her cloak billowing around her and eyes flashing as she caused a great tongue of fire to shoot out of her outstretched hands with a few words toward Merlin. Merlin responded by quenching the flames with a powerful wave of water that nearly swept her away. She shot a few bolts of energy at him and he blocked them, adrenaline pumping and magic giving him the strength to keep up this display of magic despite his injuries.

Then everything went terribly, terribly wrong.

He was about to send another spell Morgause's way when she began to laugh. Merlin had been so focused on sparring with her that he had lost his grip on the elemental spells he had cast and that had been keeping the knights and druids at bay, although many of them were still stuck waist-deep in the ground. The sky was clear and blue again and the whole clearing was a mess of flames and destruction. Luckily the camp hadn't been touched although the damage seemed to circle around it for several feet. Merlin realized that they must have put a protective spell over their little town to keep it safe.

He turned to face to see what Morgause found so funny and froze. Cenred's men had converged on two of their own, pinning their arms behind their back as they struggled vainly to escape. Cenred strode in front of the two of his knights that were being restrained. "You will go with us willingly, let Morgause restrain you and your magic, and you will not cause any more trouble," Cenred spat, "or I'll kill these two."

Merlin snorted in laughter. "You're going to try and force me to comply by threatening your own knights?"

"No," Morgause strode forward gleefully, pure hatred in her gaze as she glared at Merlin, "We're going to force you to comply by threatening your prince."

She waved her hand, flashed her eyes, and smiled wickedly as the helmets flew off the two prisoner's heads. Merlin's jaw flew open as he saw Gwaine, eyes narrowed as he glared at Morgause and Cenred, and Arthur, eyes wide and furious although the anger didn't seem to be directed at him. All Merlin could think was, I just did magic in front of Arthur. Powerful magic. He knows. Arthur knows.

And then the rest of what Morgause had said sunk in and he realized what a desperate situation he was now in. After all that, he was just going to be taken prisoner again? He was touched that Arthur wanted to rescue him but if it hadn't been for him being here, Merlin probably could have escaped. Now Arthur was being used as insurance that Merlin complied again.

Knowing there was only one course of action he could take, Merlin glowered at Morgause, not about to let her cherish the despair he felt flowing through him. Even as he raised his hands above his head in an act of surrender, he called out with his mind, not wanting to let them know that he had one more trick up his sleeve. As he felt hands grasp him once more he barely felt them as he scanned the skies, hoping beyond hope that the dragon had heard him and was on his way.

If not… well, he thought miserably as he, Gwaine, and Arthur were herded out of the arena and into the woods by knights and ex-druids alike, led by Morgause, her head held proud, if not… he really didn't want to think about it. Now it wasn't just his life on the line anymore – there were his friends to think about, too. He knew that Morgause had no intention of letting Arthur or Gwaine go now that she had them – Arthur was a valuable prisoner and she could use both of the captives to try and control Merlin. They were truly in a horrible situation.

Merlin cast his eyes to the empty sky once more before he felt the stone being slipped over his neck again. His magic, along with his remaining strength, dissipated as soon as the stone was in contact with his body again and he fell forward into the arms of his captors. Blackness obscured his vision and he lost consciousness.

Perhaps if he had not passed out, he would have noticed what Arthur and Gwaine had realized as they were marched along. He may have even puzzled over what was going on or why this was happening. But as it was, Merlin was completely oblivious to the two knights of Alined (who had left in a huff, realizing he was no match for a sorceress like Morgause and that he wouldn't be getting anybody today, magical or otherwise) that were following quietly behind, slipping through the trees, not letting the procession of prisoners leave their sight.

A/N: Whew! That was all kinds of crazy! Next chapter we'll find out more, like what exactly Morgause has planned for the three musketeers (hee hee), how she knew about Gwaine and Arthur, what Lance and Percy have planned, if the dragon will come, and Arthur, Gwaine, and Morgause's reactions to Merlin's epic magic display. It's going to be crazy! :) Please review and I'll update as soon as I'm able – Friday at the latest unless school decides to be stupid again. :) but it won't be any longer than a week, promise! Please review!

~Emachinescat ^..^