Arthur hears the warning bell chiming, and it tears his concentration from the cell in front of him with the locked-in executioner and disrupts his thoughts. I suppose someone fixed the bell fills his mind, displacing his thoughts of the man in the cell before him. He has to focus hard to remember. It isn't right to let the panic around him make him disorganized.
He remembers his train of thought. Is it right to leave the executioner here? What if the castle goes under siege and he is forgotten about locked down here and starves to death? Arthur doesn't like it. It isn't honorable to leave a man who was doing his duty to Camelot's King wrongfully imprisoned, but letting him out will endanger Merlin.
Arthur picks up some bread the guards left in their hasty departure and throws it into the cell. Leon won't question him.
"Come" he says to Leon. The entire castle is bustling with terror as Leon and Arthur stride through it. Arthur stops a serving girl coming away from the throne room. Growing close to Merlin has taught him that servants have eyes and ears too. He needs information immediately. For all he knows the attack has already started and he's heading in the wrong direction.
"What has transpired?" he asks her.
"The man who rides with the knights, Lance, he brings news of Bayard's attacking army. They come from the west, the army stretches greater than the eye can see, he says, sire." She answers, curling in on herself and shaking as she curtseys.
As if the terror in her voice didn't make her feelings obvious enough.
Arthur hates to see his people upset. He hates to see them doubting in Camelot's strength, in their strength, because Camelot's strength has always been its people.
"Stand tall. Camelot will prevail." Arthur says to her.
She straightens, but she doesn't seem assured. Never mind, Arthur cannot afford to waste time with this girl.
"Tell the kitchen not to forget about the prisoners locked in the dungeons. Obviously, they aren't our first priority in the event of a siege, but I would prefer to not see them starve to death." He tells her. She nods and hurries off.
As Arthur throws open the doors to the throne room, he sees Lancelot kneeling in the center. Uther is yelling at different council members. Arthur says, "Father," to make his presence known.
"Arthur, we are moving as many people from the lower town as can fit into the Citadel. Then we will be preparing for a siege. Oversee the gathering of crops and any food items into the city. We will outlast Bayard's army. Mass cannot account for tactical advantage, or for the strength of Camelot!" Uther calls out to his heir amongst cheers from his court and people.
It is in moments like these that Uther proves what a strong king he is. There is not a hint of fear in his demeanor and he manages to appeal to the people's strength and courage in every order he issues. Arthur nods and turns out the door, Leon following, and Lancelot coming at his heels.
"I wish to help you, sire." Lancelot calls to him.
Arthur considered it dreadfully unfair when his father denied Lancelot knightship because of his birth. Lancelot had proven, with the slaying of the Griffin, what an asset he could be to Camelot and Arthur had allowed him to train with the knights and had even written him into patrol duty. In Arthur's mind, Lancelot was a knight in all but name, and he intended to fix that when he took the throne.
"Yes, Lancelot, I would have you nowhere else." Arthur responds, turning his head to meet Lancelot's eye and nod his respect, without breaking his stride.
Merlin peaks an eye open to stare at Gwaine's prone form. His chest is rising slowly in time with his breathing, he has his right arm stretched across his eyes, blocking what light there is in the dim room. Merlin also notices Gwaine isn't wearing a shirt, but that's a detail better not focused on. For all intents and purposes, Gwaine appears asleep.
Limiting the victory dance to inside, Merlin carefully extracts himself from the blanket and moves to get dressed. Gwaine had talked about getting supplies, but Merlin figures he won't need most of them anyway, with the magic, and it's better not to risk Gwaine waking up. He has to get out before Gwaine notices, and hope that Gwaine has the good sense not to follow. Some food would be nice though, Merlin ponders wistfully as his stomach rumbles.
He moves to the table, struggling with his right boot that his foot still hasn't settled in, and sees a loaf of bread already set out.
"Hun" Merlin wonders. Did Gwaine wake up before him and lay the bread out? Or did Muriel sneak in and leave it for them?
Merlin splits it in two and takes his half with him on the road, shutting Gwaine's cottage door quietly behind him. He still can't believe Gwaine lives here. Getting back to the street is difficult as the night has settled fully now, and many places in the lower town chose to go without torchlight at night. Burning torches was expensive, and not everyone had that luxury. Merlin hadn't even realized he'd made his own blue torch in his hand until he found himself trying to hastily end it when he heard footsteps in front of him.
Two soldiers from Arthur's guard walked in the glow of their torches. Merlin couldn't remember their names, but he knew they were knights.
"I just don't understand what Arthur hopes to accomplish in the night. We've already gathered weeks worth of crops from the outer villages. At this point we don't have anywhere to stack them and the food is going to rot before we can eat it all."
"You're right, Eowan, but I think the Prince and the people fear starvation more than rotting food. If nothing else, it is good to show the people there will be plenty to eat. It will calm them in the coming siege."
"When some of the wheat starts to turn it will infect the rest. The Prince doesn't know much about farming, war is what he's best at."
Merlin could fix that problem with a preservation spell. Of course, he might not have the opportunity to go to the food stores, depending on how this night went.
"I'm surprised Bayard hasn't attacked yet. What is he waiting for, do you reckon?"
"Maybe he's trying to terrify everyone. Knowing he could strike at any moment?"
"It's still dumb to give us the time to gather the crops and store supplies for the siege." Eowan continued, "Think about if he'd attacked yesterday. We'd have been weaponless and hungry. That'd be a much better tactical advantage for him."
Merlin sees the knights heading out towards the fields, to Arthur. So he follows them, casting a spell on his feet to make his progress silent. Merlin has always felt clumsier when he had to hide his magic. When he could be himself, out in the woods, he could let his magic radiate from him and sense when a rock or root was in his way, but he didn't have that luxury now, and he couldn't afford the noise his clumsiness would cause him. It'd be great to have an invisibility spell too, he thinks. Then he would really be the best at infiltration. Following secretly would be almost effortless.
"Eowan, Tegyr, we are loading the last of the crops. Assist this group back to the castle. Eowan, you've experience with farming, yes?" Arthur's voice rings clear in the night air. Arthur's form is visible in the light of the torch he carries, a good ten yards from Merlin in the middle of a field. Knights and farmers are gathering food and holding torches all around.
"Yes, my lord." Eowan responds.
"Oversee the food storage, do what you can to make it last." Arthur orders.
Both Eowan and the other knight, who Merlin realizes must be Tegyr smile at the order. Merlin smiles too. Arthur turns to look in Merlin's direction, where Merlin trusts the dark to hide him. Arthur's eyes are searching for a moment, before they widen in shock as the wheat in front of him erupts into a wall of fire.
Lancelot is pulling Arthur back and he half walks half falls into him. Lancelot supports most of Arthur's weight as he drags him back from the flames, only there's another wall of fire behind them. Lancelot stops, Arthur can feel him turning frantically looking for a way out. The torch in Arthur's hand slips, falling towards the ground. Arthur only just catches it, glancing around, he sees that several of his knights dropped their torches. Small fires have erupted inside the two parallel walls of fire. The fire doesn't surround them. They could exit at either end, only Arthur watches as the fire rapidly spreads the entire distance of the field. Arthur can feel the heat of the fire on his skin, it's converging on them, moving inwards. There's no way they will be able to reach the end of the field before the fire engulfs him and his men. It seems like jumping through and enduring the burns is the only way to survive. The fire has grown two rows thick, lengthening the space Arthur and his trapped men need to jump through. Arthur's indecision has already cost him dearly. "We must go through!" Arthur calls to his men, as he throws his torch into the fire, and jumps through in one fluid movement using both arms to block his face. He falls to the ground when he feels he's cleared the fire and rolls to smother the flames. Only there are no flames. He has no burns and none of his clothing is singed. He looks up and sees his men jumping through all around, none of them have burns.
Arthur doesn't understand. It must be sorcery. Sorcery would explain how the fires started and grew so rapidly, and how they kept the knights contained, and also how the fire could be made harmless, or perhaps his knights shielded? But those seemed like competing interests. Would the sorcerer who set the fire be the same who kept his knights unharmed? Were they in the middle of a sorcerer stand-off? Or was it meant as a warning. Did Bayard have sorcerers?
Arthur glances back at the fire, and sees Sir Owain still inside. He looks panicked and doesn't seem to be breathing.
"Owain, you need to jump through the fire. It will not burn you." Arthur calls.
Owain doesn't seem to hear him. His eyes are glazed and panicked, unseeing as he stares at the rapidly growing flames.
"Owain, please," Arthur calls. "You have to jump through. We don't have any time!"
Everyone knows of Owain's burns. They are visible even now on his arms and legs, shimmering in the twisted light of the flames against his skin. It looks like he's trapped in time in the act of being burned. Arthur imagines he's trapped in his memories of the fire that killed his little brother Pellie, when their barn caught flame as they played with torches in the dry summer night over a decade ago. Owain had been near the door, but he'd jumped through the flames to try and save his brother. The roof had collapsed around them before he could reach Pellinor. Their father was able to drag Owain out, and he said he was sitting calmly in a circle of flames when he found him. Not reacting at all.
There's a scream from one of his knights as Owain sits down. The smoke is making it impossible for Arthur to breathe. He can't stand here calmly while his knight dies.
"I'm going to get him." Arthur calls. He isn't sure how he's going to carry him out, barely able to breathe himself through the thick smoke, but he'll manage it or die trying. He isn't going to let Owain's worst nightmare come true.
A firm grip on Arthur's left arm holds him back. Lancelot is there shaking his head.
"We haven't any TIME!" Arthur yells, not recognizing his own broken voice, lunging forward to break Lance's grip.
Lancelot follows him forward and motions for Arthur to look back at the flames. Percival has jumped through them. "I have him." He calls.
As Percival jumps through with a Owain bundled in his arms, the fire flashes blue at the edges and Percival's ankle catches fire.