Hellooo Friends! Sorry for not updating for a while, but school made it super hard to write between all of the work, pressure and homework. Being the new kid sucks, especially when everyone's been in the same class for 3 years. But, I'm pulling through, made some new friends and I'm trying to catch up on my French. Four words. Three bad French teachers. I hope you're first week at school went better.

Anyways, while writing today I was struck with an epiphany for the plot of this story. I have most of the details worked out for the beginning and end, but there's this one little part in the middle that I just keep saying 'I'll get to it when I get to it.' Well news flash, I'm writing that section and I'm out of ideas. But, today while I was writing an especially cute scene between Gwen and Merlin I had a totally amazing idea! What is it you say? Read to find out!

Enjoy,
Wisegirl6 :D

Chapter 10 ~Cold Black Eyes

Merlin's back still really hurt from the lashings. Cavell had permitted Stephen time to treat Merlin's wounds, but with such meager supplies the physician might as well have been giving him more hits to the back for all of the help it did.

The slave was instructed not to move too much and given some medication to help with the pain. He settled into a semi-comfortable position against the wall, using his head for support and doing all he could to not touch his wounds to the cold stone behind him. 'Great,' he thought to himself. 'Hungry, cold, sick, and now in pain.' Merlin spent the next three days writhing in pain and trying not to strain his back, wishing that he had his mentor's healing knowledge and comfort to help him get through this. He was beyond bored now, at least before he could move around his cell. Also, after losing his job at the library Cavell had forgotten to reinstate his old one in the washing room, leaving him with plenty of time to himself.

Merlin thought about a lot of things in his solitude. His thoughts were mainly towards pain, hunger, and the longing for his old life in Camelot. Now that the lashings had awakened him (albeit rudely) to the harsh reality of life as a slave once more Merlin put more of his energy into coming up with escape plans.

He could blast through the walls using his magic... but that would require actually having magic again. If Merlin could just figure out how to release himself from the Blood Oath he could not only free himself, but the rest of the slaves as well as Sage, Jordan, Peter, and Sophie.

He could kill Isobel, but that would require the ability to actually be able to harm his captors and escape his cell using only what he had available.

A thought struck Merlin, maybe he could ask one of the guards for help, not all of them were bound by Blood Oaths after all. But, of course, Merlin couldn't do that because plotting a mass breakout was also against the codes of his Blood Oath. Merlin really hated Blood Oaths.

Merlin tried to consider his options, if he could find a way around the rules he could use that to escape. So, he made a mental list of all the things Isobel had forbade him, or the other slaves, to do.

1- No using magic
2- No attempting to escape
3- Consorting with ANYONE about escape is also prohibited
4- No telling anyone that you are being kept as a slave, were captured by slave traders and sold, or under an enchantment
5- Follow all commands of my husband's in my absence

Merlin frowned at the wall opposite him, that ruled out almost anything that could help him get back to Camelot. Him and Sage had talked a bit before about the Blood Oath and she told him that if he could remember Isobel's exact wording that he could find a loophole in the rules. So instead Merlin tried making a list of all of the things he could do.

1- He might not be able to use magic himself but he could get his hands on a powerful object or he could get someone else to perform it for him.
2- It's not an attempt if it works
3- Merlin could just write something down instead of talking.
4- Again, he could just write down that he was being held captive
He couldn't get around 5 but it wasn't that important anyways.

Merlin didn't have much to work with, but he was hell bent on getting out of there.

It was days later when the guards showed up. Merlin had been doing the same thing that he always did, nothing, when the small window on the door of his cell opened up to reveal two inquisitive looking men wearing the black insignia that all of Cavell's more official staff wore.

"Do you think Cavell would take this one? He looks pretty healthy to me," said the older one with the beard.

Merlin almost scoffed at the guard's stupidity. The slave boy could have used quite a few words to describe himself at the moment, but 'healthy' definitely wasn't one of them.

The younger guard seemed to catch Merlin's drift. "No, this kid is far from fine. Don't you see the slashes on his back? He obviously misbehaved and was punished for it. I don't know about you, but I don't want to get in trouble for sticking 'im on the trip to see the King."

Merlin immediately perked up, lifting his head to look at them. Were they seriously thinking of picking him to actually leave the fortress? The idea was much too surreal to be real. "Trip, what trip?" he asked quickly.

The guards ignored him. "Really, what harm can it do? If Cavell doesn't want him, then Cavell will dismiss him, simple as that."

They continued arguing for what Merlin thought was an awfully wasteful amount of time before deciding to bring him to Cavell and Isobel for judgement. They dragged him none too carefully up flights of stairs and down hallways and corridors until they came to the fortress' Great Hall.

Merlin had been in the Great Hall twice before, once when Cavell was hosting a feast and had needed someone to wait on him; and once when Isobel had been performing one of her 'reinstating ceremonies' where she inforced new rules upon the slaves, pulling them further into her control.

The Hall consisted of a large dark windowless stone room decorated with black tapestries featuring Cavell's family's symbol, a gold six-pointed star. At the head of the room there was a long ebony table with four matching chairs, one for Cavell, one for Isobel, one for Michael; Cavell's younger brother, and one for Cavell's son Jonah.

Jonah was just as scary and cruel as both of his parents, maybe even worse. He treated the slaves like dirt and apparently took pleasure in having them beaten so that he could watch. Jonah was a few years younger than Merlin, probably nineteen at the oldest. He was tall and muscular, with dark hair and almost black eyes. Luckily, Jonah was away with relatives most of the time so the only things Merlin knew about him were those which he had determined in the brief meetings with the lord's son and from the stories the other slave told.

At the moment only three of the four chairs were occupied, unfortunately Jonah's was one of them.
The guards hauled Merlin into line beside the other slaves (There were about twenty of them in all, with Sage among the ranks) and stepped back so that calculating eyes of his master's family was on him.

Cavell looked at him cooly, seeming to forget that he had had the boy whipped just a week previous.

Isobel regarded him with distaste. Merlin couldn't blame her, he probably looked dreadful wearing dirty clothes, his hair matted and dirty, he hadn't bathed or washed in days, and he was so thin that every bone stood out almost inhumanly prominent against his pale skin that hadn't seen the sun in years. That along with the grosteque blood soaked bandages on his back and ugly-looking cut on his face didn't make him much of a sight for sore eyes.

Jonah, however, was studying him like he was a pig ready for slaughter, dark eyes glinting maliciously.

Merlin tried to hold back a shudder at the thought of what Jonah could do to him if he were given free reign over the slave. The last thing the warlock needed was to look weak while all of them were staring straight at him.

They all stayed like that for a while, just silently staring, before Jonah leaned over to whisper in his mother's ear. It was too quiet to make out, but whatever he'd said obviously made Isobel uncomfortable.

She stared at the table for a while before nodding at her son. She pointed to the guards before pointing to individual people in line, picking the slaves who looked the healthiest. "Bring them to the rooms for readying for the journey," she said strongly and clearly.

'That's it,' Merlin thought to himself. 'I'm never getting out of here.'

But to the slave's utter amazement he found Isobel's finger coming down to gesture at him, hesitating for just a second.

Merlin couldn't hear anything as the guards marched him from the room over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

He was going to leave the fortress. He was really leaving.

Okay, the story is starting to progress from here but I will still be a couple chapters before they actually get to Camelot. I know, most of you want a reunion but it will come and I swear it will be amazing! It's not going to happen right at the end either so I hope you're ready for it!

Thanks a lot for all of your support with the flame reviewer, it really made me feel better that so many people were supportive and nice!

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Wisegirl6