10. No defences

Screams. Fire. Death and destruction everywhere he turned. The sky itself was ablaze with flames. Howling winds filled the air with dust and ashes until he choked. His lungs ached and he could hardly breathe. He screamed now too, blinded by pain and fear.

Someone grabbed his arm, then hands cradled his face and a voice spoke to him. Frantic with fear he tried to break free but couldn't. He felt tears run down his face but didn't care. Run, run, get away from here. Escape was the only thing that mattered.

But some one still held him, spoke urgently into his ears. "Merlin! Stop it. Stop it now, Merlin! Don't you hear me? Stop this madness, at once!"

Suddenly it came to him that this voice sounded familiar. That this sound had never threatened him before. That he had actually been searching for this voice. Furtively he opened his eyes and the terror and clamour that had surrounded him ceased to exist. Somewhere above him a face was swimming in the air. He emerged through the haze in his mind slowly, bit by bit, like a diver would emerge from the deep of the oceans.

The moment he finally recognized this face he bolted upwards and threw himself into the pair of arms which belonged to it, clinging with both hands to this neck for dear life.

"Merlin, let go! Let go of me, you're suffocating me. Let GO!"

Two strong hands pushed him back then held him by the shoulders until his breathing slowed down and his eyes came back to focus. Disoriented and almost panicking again he gazed with wide eyes at the young man in front of him. Obviously the other one was sitting on his bed or whatever it was he lay on.

One of the hands let go of his shoulder and brushed his black hair out of his face. "Next time you want to break my neck you could at least give me ample warning, you clumsy idiot!" the familiar voice said and a still heavily panting and very confused warlock stared directly into the face of the Prince of Camelot.

"Where...what...how?" Merlin stammered and he didn't know himself what he was asking for. "Look, Merlin, there's no need to be afraid" Arthur said soothingly. "You have been very ill, that's all, but all's for the best now, so don't you worry, all right? Everything's fine."

While Merlin still tried to process those words he heard another voice that startled him and he backed away from it.

"His Grace wants to see you in his study immediately!"

"Tell him I'm on my way" Arthur said but it was no good.

"No, My Lord. You are to come with me, now!"

Merlin's eyes widened when a rough hand took the Prince by the shoulder and dragged him away. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon. Please, stay here and don't budge. Promise me, Merlin!" Arthur said while he rose from the bed to follow the guard.

Merlin nodded, intimidated by the urgency in his friend's face and voice. Silently he watched Arthur being led away by the strange soldier. Something wasn't right here. No one ever touched Arthur like that. It just wasn't right.

Merlin looked around. He was sure he'd never seen this room before. True enough, it looked somewhat like Arthur's rooms should look but still…. Those glass windowpanes were magnificent, as were the beautifully forged, massive iron grilles that cross-barred them. The black velvet and brocade hangings were splendid, too and yet….. Something seemed very wrong. Everything was superb, perfect really. Then why was it so out of place?

Mindful of Arthur's urgent request the young warlock crawled away into the bed covers. They were made of the finest silk, every single piece showing a ducal crown in meticulous embroidery. But they felt cold to the touch; as cold as the face of the man whose portrait dominated the opposite wall. The whole room breathed the cold splendour and stateliness of a royal tomb.

The young warlock didn't know how he had ended up here but he knew for sure that he didn't want to stay. He would just wait for his friend's return and then they would surely leave this awful place. They didn't belong here. They didn't belong to a place where Arthur's face had this unsettling expression. Where a soldier could claim him as if he were a piece of property. Almost frozen in a fear he didn't even begin to understand Merlin buried himself deeper in the blankets and sheets and began to wait.

Meanwhile Arthur silently followed the guard through the vast corridors of Tintagel until they reached Yvain's study. The soldier allowed the Prince to enter and left. The Duke didn't care much for introductions or announcements. He knew that, if he had given order to see someone, this person would surely be brought to him, no matter what.

"Your Grace wanted to see me?"

"Yes. Come over here!" Yvain put down the seal he had been holding in his hand. "I take it your servant has finally come to?"

"Yes, Sire!" Arthur said flatly.

"How lucky he was that you could identify him. If Maelfwyn hadn't thought of suggesting to me that we should consult you first he would surely have been executed then and there."

"I don't think so My Lord" Arthur replied while meeting the other man's gaze with well feigned indifference. "Surely not before you would have extracted every single bit of information you wanted to retrieve from a man you considered my father's spy."

"You must admit it was a bold move, sneaking on one of my best men like that, entering Tintagel all on his own; obviously looking for you when nobody else dared. And you still insist that he is your manservant, nothing more?"

"Nothing more!" Arthur confirmed quietly. "You may not be used to see such things from your servants but Merlin is…special. He has shown an almost insensible sense of loyalty to us at times and obviously he has been born somewhat….deficient. He tends to do foolish things and it always leaves him with the ridiculous urge to make it up to us."

"Especially to you?"

"Yes" Arthur said exasperatedly "Especially to me!" He began to guess where this was leading and he didn't like it. Not a bit. "Your Grace should send him home to Camelot as soon as possible. Even if he wanted to be, Merlin is no threat to anyone, except himself."

"Arthur, I've told you before there are limits to your ability to lie to me!" Yvain no longer pretended that this was a friendly chat. "Maddox, my adept who posed as my messenger, is a skilled magician himself. Your 'servant' may have fallen for his alias as much as your father did but I doubt that Uther would have been able to send a whole bunch of my best men flying across my main yard with a single thought!"

"Then your men must be either mistaken or they are lying to you!" Arthur repeated heatedly. "Merlin is no sorcerer, if he were it had cost him his life months, even years ago. You know my father's opinion of magicians; from what you have told me it's pretty much of your doing. And it was my father who chose him as my servant!"

"Was it, now" the Duke said with much sarcasm. "And you're right of course; my fanatic brother would never willingly shelter a sorcerer under his roof, let alone employ one. Except for one single purpose, naturally: To protect his son and heir!"

Arthur felt desperate now. He shook his head in denial. "This is madness" he said imploringly. "Please go and have a look at the boy and then tell me again that this an almighty magician whom my own magic hating father for reasons far beyond human understanding has chosen as my body guard! Believe me, the mere thought is ridiculous. This is Merlin, for heaven's sake. He stumbles over his own feet on flat ground and he cuts himself every time he lifts a sword!"

"And what's that supposed to prove?" Yvain said derisively. "I knew how to crush a human throat from a ten metres distance before I could as much as raise a sword. When you attacked me you felt what I can do without a blade. My weapons are merely decorations, my dear boy, adornments of my aristocratic rank. I most definitely don't need them. Why should your young friend be any different?"

Arthur felt fear well up inside him. He had often feared for Merlin's safety and well-being but never like this. Yes, he had felt what Yvain could do and the mere thought that hapless, sensitive Merlin might experience anything similar made his stomach turn.

When Yvain now laid his hand on Arthur's neck the Prince tried to ease his way out of it. Feeling the furtive resistance the Duke tightened his grip ever so lightly and Arthur virtually froze as he was. "I could force the truth about this boy out of you as easily as I could force the truth of what I told you about your father into you before" the Duke said. "Have you thought of that?"

"Then go ahead" Arthur said hoarsely, never lowering his gaze from his captor's face. "I know I'm in no position to hinder you. But whatever you do to me it won't change the fact that Merlin is merely a peasant boy who works for me. That's all. And now you can call your guards to hold me down for you, I don't care!"

Yvain scrutinized him for a moment before he shrugged dismissively. "I don't think that's necessary." Abruptly he let go of his nephew. "I take it that you're really fond of your so called 'servant'. It's obvious he means a lot to you. So let's strike a bargain, aye?"

Arthur swallowed painfully. This had been unavoidable eventually. But why Yvain had circumvented the inevitable blackmail so laboriously was beyond the Prince. "What do you want?" he asked bluntly.

The Duke smiled faintly. "You know my plans for you. Surely you must also know that, as soon as your friends in Camelot learn that you are alive, they will want to see you. My plans won't work if Camelot suspects that you are my prisoner. Besides, there's the time afterwards to consider. To make a long issue short, there will be some occasions on which you will have to appear in public. On these occasions I must rely on your cooperation and I very much doubt that your father's orders alone will do the trick."

"Is there a point to your long-winded explanations?" the young captive asked coldly.

"To put it bluntly, I will give you detailed instructions for each and every occasion. You follow them to the letter and your young friend will be left in peace. You disobey me in any given thing and you will watch him suffer the consequences. I will hold him responsible for your every move and word. Is this concise enough for you?"

Arthur's shoulders sank. "Yes, it is" he said softly.

"What was that? Speak up!"

"Your Grace has been very clear" Arthur confirmed his surrender somewhat louder. "I understand perfectly!"

"Good! That's settled then. The boy can stay with you for the next day or two. That should give you ample time to explain things to him. As soon as he's back on his feet I'll have him transferred to the servants' quarters where our quarter master can find him some work."

Arthur's head jerked up. "Surely you could let him stay with me?" he said, inwardly cursing his helplessness. "It's not as if you were short of servants yourself?"

"What has become of 'he's merely a peasant boy'?" Yvain laughed in genuine amusement. "It goes without saying that you can't share your quarters with a servant all the time. The quarter master will find the adequate treatment for the boy."

"I've seen what you consider adequate treatment for servants" Arthur hissed, his eyes blazing with barely suppressed rage. "After only a week in your dungeons I've lost count of how many men, women, even children were brought to the whipping pole or to the rack for one triviality or the other."

"Sometimes servants need to be disciplined" Yvain replied unruffled. "Surely your father would agree with me in that."

"There's a difference between discipline and sadism!" Arthur now yelled as anger ousted prudence and tactics.

"And you do not want your friend to be subjected to this …..sadism?" Yvain said calmly. "And what about some other things, eh? For example, the respect you owe me, my boy, and by your father's orders, as I may add?"

The young captive looked at the older Pendragon's stern face and looked down, defeated. He knew exactly what the other man wanted to hear. What he had wanted to hear since this mismatched duel had begun. "Please, uncle" Arthur said quietly. "I beg of you. Please leave him alone."

When Yvain didn't answer, the Prince searched his eyes for a reaction but the Duke's face was unreadable. After a long moment Arthur heard him sigh. "If you knew what I would give for you being serious when you call me 'uncle'" he said, suddenly very gentle. "It would mean the world to me if I didn't have to coerce you into obedience, if you would give it to me willingly."

Before Arthur could react Yvain turned and walked away from him. "All right, let's give it a try, then. The boy can stay with you until further notice. Naturally the privilege is forfeited the moment you misuse it. You can go now!"

Utterly relieved Arthur bowed silently and made haste to leave but Yvain's voice stopped him in mid-stride. "By the way, Endred is going to leave for Camelot the day after tomorrow. I thought you would like to know."

Arthur needed a moment to collect his thoughts. "Yes, Your Grace" he finally managed to say. "Of course I would." But then the hurt and fear of his situation won the better of him and he turned back. "Why are you doing this?" he said desperately. "My brother is dead, he died in this fall to the river some 20 years ago, you've told me so yourself. So why send an imposter to Camelot to fight a dead man's fight?"

"What better way to let my dear brother pay for his sins than to force him to admit them publicly, in front of the whole Kingdom he schemed and swindled himself to?" Yvain said and the hatred in his voice drained all blood from Arthur's face. "For every crime, for every cruelty and injustice he committed Uther will pay in the same coin of humiliation and fear. But like it or not I will keep you here until this is all over, with or without your consent. Other than the rest of his enemies I refuse to take it out on you."

The Prince's look fell on his arms. It had been eight days now that the messenger had brought back Uther's response. Arthur had been released from the dungeons but his wrists still showed the slowly healing bruises the shackles had caused. The ordeal of being bound and gagged for weeks on end, paralyzed by restraining magic while they had dragged him half across the country. The anguish of a six months captivity, pain and humiliation of the repeated floggings - it was all still as fresh in his mind as this new, invisible chain around his neck, his fear for this idiotic friend of his who had blindly ran into this hell-hole in a hare-brained attempt to free him.

"You do not really expect me to thank you for that?" he asked his uncle and despite himself the bitterness he felt showed in his voice as much as in his face.

"There may yet come a time when you do" Yvain replied "but for now I content myself with your compliance." He rang a bell and one of the guards appeared immediately. "Escort my nephew back to his room!"

Once outside the young man shook off the soldier's hand and the guard let it go. As soon as they approached the Prince's quarters the turmoil inside was hard to miss. Arthur heard Merlin's unmistakable yelp and started to run.

As he burst into the room, the sight of Maelfwyn and two of his men trying to pin his friend down to the floor made the worn out rest of his self-control crumble to dust. "Let go of him, you damned brutes."

Arthur shot past his guard towards Maelfwyn when his eyes went wide. A hot white light emerged from Merlin's body and hit the attackers. Disbelievingly the Prince saw the three sorcerers stumble backwards, then fall to the ground while Merlin frantically tried to climb to his feet.

Maelfwyn was the first to recover from the onslaught. He stretched out his hand and muttered a few words in the ancient language which were all too familiar to Arthur. He had heard them frequently on his forced journey to Tintagel.

But other than his royal friend had been Merlin was not immediately paralyzed by Maelfwyn's binding spell. From where he stood, frozen in shock, Arthur could not help but see his friend's eyes flash golden and another burst of energy left him. It also hit the other magician, albeit it was much weaker than the first one had been.

Once again Maelfwyn was forced to his knees and he yelled with rage. "I'll have your hide for this, you little bastard!" Tintagel's Court Sorcerer focused his own energy and this time it hit Merlin directly in the chest.

Arthur saw his friend go down and heard him yelp with pain while the three hostile wizards came for him again. It was clear that Merlin had no intention to give up without a fight and this time it would surely be the end of him. Without thinking the Prince ran towards his friend and grabbed his shoulders. "Merlin, stop it!" he yelled. "Stop this, at once. D'you hear me? That's an order!"

He sighed with relief when he saw the frantic expression slowly vanish from the young warlock's eyes. "Arthur?" he murmured "Where have you been?"

"I am here now, everything's going to be all right, just calm down." Arthur hardly knew what he was saying. He turned round to where the wizards still stood. "What did you do that for? Haven't your damned magic weapons hurt him enough already?"

Maelfwyn cleared his throat. "Hold him a moment longer, will you?" he said much softer than he had ever spoken to the young prisoner before. Merlin wriggled closer to Arthur when the older wizard touched him to fasten two small silver bracelets round his wrists. Before the Prince could stop him the Court Sorcerer had magically sealed the locks and rose.

"What are these things?" Arthur demanded to know.

"They're designed to suppress his magic abilities" one of the younger sorcerers replied calmly. In the same moment Arthur felt the body in his arms go limp. As he anxiously felt for his friend's pulse Maelfwyn regained his usual harsh attitude. "Go away from him now!" he ordered.

The Court Sorcerer was completely taken by surprise when the Prince bolted upwards and took his opponent by the collar. "What have you done to him, you damned beast?"

"Was it so easy to forget what I can do, my boy?" Maelfwyn hissed through clenched teeth. "Well, let me remind you…." but for once he stood no chance. Arthur's fist hit him directly in the face, much too fast to cast a spell. This time the Prince had the satisfaction of having knocked out his opponent in the blink of an eye. He struggled hard when the guard soldier grabbed his arms from behind but only until he felt the detested numbness run through his body.

"Leave us!" the wizard who had spoken before said as soon as he saw Arthur's resistance cease. "Out, all of you!"

"But My Lord Maddox, you can't stay alone with him!"

"Are you questioning my orders, Brycan?" Maddox said coldly. "Or are you questioning my ability to keep one unarmed grya in check?"

"N…no, My Lord" the youngest of the Tintagel sorcerers stammered "but…."

"Then I'd advise you to take care of His Eminence instead of pestering me with your obtrusive drivel. Now get out!"

Hastily Brycan lifted Maelfwyn's still unconscious body from the ground. The soldier, who had prudently distanced himself from the sorcerers' quarrel, let go of his captive and supported the wizard on his way out.

At the sound of the door being bolted from the outside Maddox turned towards Arthur who was trying to lift the still unconscious warlock from the floor. He flinched when Maddox came to his aid but he allowed him to help ease Merlin back on the bed.

"There's nothing to worry about, Your Highness" Maddox said gently. "He has to sleep it off. The seals' power has this effect. Tomorrow he will be right as rain, you'll see. His memory will come back to him as if he'd never had lost it."

Now that the immediate danger had passed Arthur's thoughts ran amok in his head. He still couldn't believe what he had just seen. Merlin. His clumsy, idiotic, fragile servant had used magic; magic powerful enough to bring Tintagel's Court Sorcerers and two other wizards to their knees. Arthur didn't want to even consider what the seemingly helpless boy could have done with that kind of power if he had been in its full possession and in his right mind.

"If it hadn't been for his encounter with your accursed seals he could have defeated you all left-handedly, couldn't he?" It wasn't really a question, more like thinking aloud but Maddox answered it nevertheless.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. It's true, I've never seen such raw power before in one that young, but it's completely untrained. He's acting purely on instinct. I doubt he could defeat a trained, experience warlock like Maelfwyn, albeit the instinctive control he has over his magic is….awesome, I have to admit. If it weren't we wouldn't have this conversation right now."

This only caused an even more confused frown on Arthur's face. "What are you talking about?"

"You didn't even feel it, did you!" Madddox stated, genuinely overawed. "When you ran directly into his last shot we were all sure that the onslaught would kill you on the spot. I am sure we all saw our lives pass by our inner eyes at the thought of what His Grace would do to us had you been killed. As blindly as he flailed around his power could be nothing less but lethal but Merlin's deadly energy covered your body, your heart, your head and you felt nothing, nothing at all!"

Maddox' utter fascination showed in his radiant face. "You know, whether we admit it or not, we all dream of a bond like that. A powerful sorcerer faces the same problems a powerful ruler would know. Jealousy among his peers and fear from the lesser beings make for a lonely life sometimes. And to see it happen between an untrained boy, a mere child and a grya" Maddox smiled broadly. "I dare say you've rattled dear old Maelfwyn with that, worse than you could ever have done with your fist."

"So I take it that I am the grya in this?" Arthur desperately tried to make sense of what the other man was saying.

"Forgive me, Your Highness, but yes, you are. Come to think of it, it's not that astonishing for an evil magic wrong doer like me to have a nick name for an evil non-magic know-nothing like you?"

"Thanks for the compliment!"

Maddox barely suppressed a sigh of relief when he saw the ghost of a smile flicker across Arthur's strained face. As the Prince's eyes returned to the still form on the bed Yvain's liegeman dared to advance somewhat more. "I know how you've been brought up" he said "but from what I saw from him on our journey from Camelot it was clear that he thinks the world of you. And from what I've seen now I am absolutely sure that he'd never be your enemy, no matter what."

"So that's why your name sounded familiar to me" Arthur said and Maddox could see that the old distrust had come back to the prisoner. "You posed as Yvain's messenger. You lured the perfect hostage into the Duke's trap."

"Merlin shadowed me the moment I entered Camelot." Maddox could hear for himself that Arthur had somehow forced him into the defensive. "From what I saw your father put unusual trust in him. When he followed me on my way back to Tintagel, even approached me, trying to sneak into my trust I had no other choice. But I see that you don't believe me, do you?"

"Frankly, I find it hard to believe that the almighty warlock should have mistaken you for a common soldier." Arthur said with bitter irony. "Look at you. You might have emerged from a gentleman's outfitter only this morning. Doubtlessly even your toes are pedicured!"

"Look again, Your Highness!"

Arthur returned his derisive gaze to the wizard and recoiled in shock. Before him stood a much older man whose bad teeth stank abominably. Hairs unkempt, his whole appearance dishevelled and neglected, Maddox looked every inch the old, primitive war dog Merlin had taken him for. He blinked once and again Arthur faced the overly groomed young noble he had beheld earlier.

"Convinced? I'm sorry to say that your young friend never stood a chance to fool me!" Yvain's spy said and the pride in his abilities was unmistakable.

"It's you!" Arthur replied. "You are the one who's to go to Camelot to pose as my long lost brother!"

"Yes, that's right!" Maddox said quietly. "And my orders are to take your place as Crown Prince for one purpose only: To undermine your father's authority and reputation as best I can. Doubtlessly the news of your survival will motivate the Crown Council to get rid of me rather sooner than later. No matter what your father does or says, they will never accept me as his heir as long as they see a chance to get you back. His Grace is mad to believe that he could keep you against your will and theirs once he's let the cat out of the bag. Eventually this will inevitably lead to my final orders coming into force." Maddox inhaled deeply before he finished his last sentence.

"What final orders?"

"The Duke wants me to kill your father if I cannot accomplish my mission otherwise. If I am expelled from Camelot, I am to poison him, freeing the way for your accession to the throne. Your uncle would release you only on your father's death."

The simple, matter-of-fact death threat made Arthur speechless for a moment. It took a while before he could say anything. "Why are you telling me this?" he finally pressed out.

"Because I want you to play along with your uncle's demands as long as possible" Maddox said. "There's a chance in this. Once the Duke has officially made you his heir – and given the slightest chance he will do it for more reasons than you can imagine – he will have reached a point of no return."

"I don't understand! Are you telling me that you are going to betray Yvain? You? His master spy?"

"I know you've no reason to trust me" Maddox said exasperatedly. "But I trust that you've seen enough of magic to realize that its evilness or value depends on the person who yields it. Or do you still believe Gaius and your young friend over there are evil? Tell me, if you were to become Duke of Cornwall tomorrow, would you continue your father's policy on magic?"

"No, I wouldn't!" Arthur stated spontaneously and only the moment he heard himself say it he knew that it was the simple truth. Whenever it had happened, whether it had been the moment he had felt Gaius' warm and comforting power after those first horrible weeks of isolation or whether it had been today he didn't care. Fact was that he no longer shared Uther's believes. The difference between what Maelfwyn as well as Yvain himself had done to him and what he had experienced from the old healer and his ward had been too great. It was impossible to tar them all with the same brush.

"But what's in that for you?" Arthur asked warily. He knew perfectly well that he was already very much convinced of Maddox's sincerity only because he so desperately wanted to believe that not all hope of freedom was lost. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I was born a Druid!" the wizard stated. "And my people have never had any luck under a Pendragon rule. Your father is in the charming habit to hunt us down like animals. Oh, surely, your uncle provides shelter for every Druid tribe that flees Camelot. Land, seed, equipment – it's all for free in Tintagel. You can even settle land which is not fertile on itself, not without magic help from Tintagel, that is. The Druids see the small-print of the bargain only when it is too late. His Grace the Duke of Cornwall asks for the blood tax only when he knows that a tribe won't survive a second exodus."

"Blood tax?" the Prince asked, appalled by the unfamiliar term.

"It's something the Romans invented" Maddox said and now all bitterness and spite were on his side. "Your father's purge, when it reached and destroyed the Blessed Isle, robbed Yvain and his order of their most important resource – young people who were born with the magic abilities necessary to live up to the Duke's standards. You see, I could train you or any other grya – no offence – as much as I like, it would do no good. One has to be born with magic to be able to be trained as a magician. And even of the born magicians only a small percentage is gifted enough to one day become the kind of war-going sorcerer Yvain's order was created to produce. I've always believed that the word warlock was once created for especially this kind of magic ability."

"And this has to do with the Cornish Druids exactly what?" the Prince asked although he already guessed what the answer would be.

"Every few years the Duke has Maelfwyn and a few others investigate the villages that completely depend on him for their survival. They chose every magically gifted child, male or female, that takes their fancy and bring them here. Maelfwyn's wife, Brycan and his wife, as well as me – we've all been born in one of these Druid villages. The old Pendragon breeding programme may have come to an end but your uncle surely has found himself a new one!"

Horrified as he was by the tale Arthur still didn't want to fall for it so easily. "Seems to have done you a world of good" he said apparently unimpressed. "From the way it looks you've made a considerable carrier out of your bad fortune."

"As did my family" Maddox replied sarcastically. "My brothers and sisters were spared and my parents could be relieved. At least until they tried to sneak in here to see me for a few moments after five years. Superfluous to say that, as they lacked Merlin's power, neither of them survived the seals' onslaught. I buried their scorched bodies outside the castle myself. Maelfwyn found that very befitting. He thinks the world of 'discipline'."

"Yes, I know!" Arthur said, remembering his last conversation with Yvain. "They both do!"

"The time in which Duke Gorlois ruled Cornwall was the only golden age my people have known so far" Maddox continued. "I have every reason to believe that under his daughters' rule this golden age might return. As I understand it, both women are your father's sworn enemies but neither of them bears any grudge against you. So I'm offering you a bargain: I promise you to do everything in my power to keep your father safe until my allies have had a chance to rid us – and you! – from Yvain and Maelfwyn! In return you promise me to hand over Tintagel and Cornwall to Gorlois' daughters the moment you succeed to the ducal crown, no matter what your father says!"

"Hand over Tintagel to whom?" Arthur asked. "Gorlois left only one daughter and the Lady Morgana has been abducted, most certainly killed by a sorceress named Morgause. Shameful as it maybe, my dear master spy, but your scheme was apparently based on insufficient information!"

Maddox was taken aback by the sudden hostile reply but he regained his composure rather quickly. "I see that His Grace didn't care to share the whole story when he forced himself on you!"

Arthur turned away abruptly to hide his reaction to this painful reminder.

Maddox lowered his head in defeat. "I see now that I've been naïve in thinking a few words from me could convince you to trust me after all you've endured" he said. "But please believe me that I'm willing to keep my side of the bargain if you are to keep yours."

"Which is?" Arthur said with spiteful sarcasm.

"Please try to stay alive, away from Maelfwyn and in your uncle's good will as much as possible!" Maddox said gently. "I've seen enough of you for the last six months to know that everything else can be discussed later. You will not betray us, whether you believe me right now or not."

He braced himself to leave but halted for a moment. "If you could keep your friend in one piece, too, it might be for all our sakes" he said before he closed the door behind him. After six months in Tintagel's custody Arthur wasn't even astonished that the door bolts which kept him prisoner hadn't bothered the sorcerer at all.