Chapter Eleven

The screech of an owl flying high above the canopy of leaves is not the sound that woke Eryl, but rather the scream of pain echoing from the dream. Looking around the darkened hut, Eryl could make out the sleeping form of Grigor. The apprentice did not move in his sleep which surprised Eryl. Grigor had shown the most promise as a seer in the last three decades, yet the vision of Emrys' death had not disturbed his sleep.

The dying embers of the fire glowed softly in the fireplace and the surrounding forest was still and quiet. Even the normal nocturnal sounds of crickets and tree frogs didn't disturb the stillness of the night. Slipping from the bed silently, Eryl stepped out into the darkness and looked skyward.

Long wisps of white hair fluttered in the breeze whispering through the trees as Eryl walked noiselessly through the forest. No sounds other than the rustling of the leaves in the moonless night reached the ancient seer's ears. The vision had been terrifyingly perspicuous yet simultaneously convoluted. The prophecy had been broken, that much was very clear. There was a glimmer of hope, but it was tied to one man. A man who was, as yet, too young to grasp his true role in events yet to pass.

What was obscured were the circumstances surrounding Emrys' death. Eryl only knew that it would be sudden and violent because the warlock would be left unsuspecting, and unprotected. None of this made sense to Eryl because Arthur Pendragon would not leave Emrys to fend for himself. Emrys may be the most powerful warlock to have yet lived, but he was scarcely more than a boy and unprepared to fight a nonmagical battle on his own. The young prince had always protected his servant and Eryl could not fathom why that would have changed; the bond between them was too strong.

Eryl moved steadily through the forest until reaching a clearing. The limbs of the trees gave way to an open view of the heavens. Eryl looked up seeking clarification amongst the stars, only there were no stars shining in the mantle of the night sky. Even sister moon had hidden her face. Eryl sat cross-legged in the very center of the clearing and in a high and reedy voice began to sing to the trees.

Grigor entered the clearing holding a torch to light his way. He heard the singing and was filled with a deep sense of foreboding. The absence of Eryl's snoring had woken the young apprentice from his slumber and finding the other bed empty, he had ventured out into the night hoping to find that Eryl had just gone dream walking again.

The ancient song that Eryl sang was one that Grigor had only heard once before. It was the night that Grigor had first met Eryl and his life had been forever changed. Eryl had come to his village seeking shelter for the night. Grigor's mother and father recognized the druid markings on the seer's arms and offered shelter. Grigor was curious about the enigmatic druid and was not asleep when the seer woke suddenly and slipped out into the night. Being fourteen and having an insatiable curiosity, he got up and followed the druid into the woods at the edge of the village. The night was dark, as clouds had obscured the moon and stars from the sky. Grigor almost couldn't find his way and had to rely on youthful eyes and a keen sense of hearing to follow the druid as he walked through the trees. To his surprise the seer sat down in the very center of a small glade and began to sing.

The young man was enchanted by the song until the sounds of screams and fighting reached his ears and Grigor turned to run back home when the druid was suddenly behind him holding his arm. "You must not return, Grigor. There is nothing you can do."

Grigor yanked his arm away from the druid and ran back toward the village following the sounds of an attack on his home. To this day the young man had no idea how the ancient druid was able to keep up with him, and yet Eryl managed to do just that. Just before Grigor could leave the cover of the forest he found himself immobilized. He could not run any further and could only watch in abject horror from the shadows.

It was the night his entire village had been burned to the ground and his family and friends slaughtered by a band of at least fifty raiders from the north.

It was the night Eryl had saved him, and took him in as an apprentice.

Eryl had since told him that their meeting was not mere chance. Eryl had come looking for Grigor having seen his gifts in a vision. The ancient druid seer had awoken that night because of another vision foretelling of the raiders and the death of everyone Grigor had ever known. For months Grigor was both grateful to Eryl for saving him and hated him for not saving the rest of his family or his village. Grigor refused to accept his role of apprentice for almost a year until his own visions became uncontrollable.

Finally in desperation and fear he asked Eryl for help and thus had become the seer's apprentice. Eryl was an enigma. Grigor had discovered that Eryl had not taken on an apprentice in nearly fifty years making the young man wonder even more about his benefactor. They lived a solitary life in the forest; only coming in contact with other people when seeking supplies that the forest could not provide them. It was a lonely existence for the young man, but he no longer begrudged the life. Eryl had taught him so much about his gifts and how to interpret his visions. He had learned the beauty of magic and the wonder of the natural world.

After spending the last five years with the seer, Grigor still could not determine how old Eryl was or even if the seer was a man or a woman. The ancient druid was old but had no facial hair. Eryl's skin was like wrinkled parchment and hung from the druid's face and arms like sheets of weathered hide. The seer always wore rustic colored robes that hung nearly to the ground with a large deep hood. There were times when the old druid would stand so still in the forest that it became easy to loose sight of the seer even when standing close by.

When Grigor asked how old the seer was the answer he received was frustrating.

"I am as old as I am."

At that point Grigor decided it was none of his business and he had long since given up trying to figure out who or what his mentor was and simply accepted Eryl as Eryl.

Stepping up behind his mentor with his torch held high, Grigor looked around the clearing and up at the sky. He desperately wanted to know what Eryl had seen to provoke this trip to the clearing. If Eryl had had a vision powerful enough to seek solace or answers from the forest itself then he should have also seen something, but he hadn't. Bending down slightly and gently touching Eryl on the shoulder he asked, "What is it? What have you seen?"

Eryl's voice tapered off to a whisper and then stopped altogether. It was then that Grigor realized that there were no sounds in the forest. The entire world seemed paused as if waiting for something. A chill ran down the young man's spine. Something was coming, something that had silenced the forest. Eryl stood up in one smooth motion and turned to Grigor. "We must go to Camelot."

.

Arthur returned to Nelora's tent after the meeting with the druid elders more confused than ever. He did not like nor did he agree with the idea of keeping the fact that he knew about Merlin's magic a secret from Merlin. As he walked back he remembered the look on Merlin's face as they spoke in his ante-chamber. The desperate aloneness that Merlin felt now made perfect sense. Arthur didn't understand anything about this prophecy and the fact that the druids wouldn't tell him about it only served to make him even more determined to find out what it was.

As he walked through the encampment he tried to remember everything that Merlin had said that night. Merlin's voice echoed in his head, only now his words held a completely different meaning.

"I don't fit. I never will - not in Ealdor, not here. I can't just be who I am. You can't see it, but it's like I'm a prisoner. I might as well be wearing chains."

Obviously Merlin cannot be who he is, not in Camelot, and expect to keep his head. Arthur understood this. He didn't like it, but he understood why Merlin had keep his magic a secret.

"I am held hostage to a fate I have no control over, a destiny I never asked for. They're unbreakable bonds as strong as any iron shackles."

Arthur stopped walking for a moment as he recalled these words. Merlin must know about this prophecy. The old druid elder said that Merlin's destiny was tied to his, but how much danger of it not coming to fruition could there be if Merlin already knew about it? Arthur resumed walking toward the healer's tent deep in thought wanting to know what exactly this prophecy was and how it affected him when something else Merlin said floated to the surface of his mind.

"I believe in you, Arthur; in who you are and what you stand for. I believe with all of my heart that you will be the greatest king this land has ever known. I believe that you will one day be the force that unites all of Albion. It is that belief - that trust - that is the key to the chains that bind me. I would have left Camelot by now if it weren't for my belief in you."

Could that be it? Could it be that simple? If he was supposed to be this great king, then was it Merlin's destiny to help him get there? With or without Merlin he was going to become king, so he didn't really see how it was so earth shattering for them both to know about Merlin's magic. If Merlin could be open and himself around Arthur wouldn't that make things all that much easier? Wouldn't that actually make the fulfillment of this prophecy much easier and quicker?

Arthur entered the tent to find that Nelora was still beside Merlin's bed. The other bed was now empty, and whomever stayed behind to help the healer with Merlin was gone. Arthur noted that Merlin's pack as well as his own had been brought in, and Merlin was wearing clean clothes. This made Arthur aware of how uncomfortable he was, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to get these damp and smelly clothes off and changed into something clean and dry. Nelora looked up from her patient almost as though she could sense his thoughts, and indicated Arthur's pack.

"There is a large basin of clean warm water behind the partition. After you change please come back and see me so that I can speak with you about Emrys condition."

A shock of worry twisted in Arthur's stomach. "Is he all right?"

Nelora nodded her head and Arthur relaxed slightly. He still looked dreadfully pale and his arm looked no better than it did when they first arrived. Arthur grabbed his pack, and moving off to Nelora's private area to wash up and change he couldn't help having the disconcerting feeling that he could not hide his thoughts and feelings from the druid healer. When he came out and joined Nelora next to Merlin's bed Arthur touched the young man, and could feel that his fever had risen again.

"He's worse now isn't he?"

Nelora sat back a little and turned so that she was facing Arthur directly. "Not if you consider the fact that he no longer hovers at the veil to the next world, but yes his fever is higher and the Beladona is still affecting him. The poison is no longer threatening his life, but he is much weaker than before."

"Why? It doesn't make sense. If he woke up then shouldn't he be getting stronger?" Arthur asked, wanting to understand.

Nelora looked at Arthur for a moment as though studying him. "You saw what he did today."

Arthur frowned. "Yes, he made it rain hard enough to douse the flames of the pyre."

"Have you any idea how much power it takes to do something like that?"

Looking at Merlin so small and fragile lying there, and knowing that he housed so much power was still astonishing to the young prince. "Using that kind of magic makes him weak?"

Nelora shook her head slightly. "Not exactly. Emrys is essentially untrained, and magic is an extremely powerful tool, especially his magic. The amount of raw power flowing through him in order to bring down that kind of rain is staggering and something that very few people could do. Some of the priests and priestesses of the old religion can command that kind of power, but not many and then only after years of training. What Emrys did today was both unprecedented and remarkable, not to mention dangerous."

Arthur didn't like the sound of that as a chilling thought occurred to him. "Could he have used magic so powerful that it would have killed him?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't have thought so, but now I'm not so sure. In an injured or weakened state, I suppose it is possible."

Anger flared in Arthur at that statement. "Then this whole plan could have seriously backfired! What good would it do if Merlin woke up only to kill himself trying to save me?"

"I agree that trying to provoke a response from Emrys by threatening your life was a bad decision, but in defense of the council, no one had any idea that this could happen. Jaylen was left here to monitor Emrys, and as soon as he saw any kind of response he was meant to inform Barach who would have doused the fire himself. But that isn't what happened. Emrys emerged from unconsciousness with such force that Jaylen was overwhelmed by a shockwave of magic, and only woke up himself a short while ago. No one could have anticipated Emrys would physically come to your rescue in such a state; never mind the fact that he used an elemental magic that should have been far beyond his ability at this point in time."

"He'll be all right though, won't he?" Arthur asked.

This time Nelora spoke with conviction. "Yes, given time and proper care, he will fully recover. This is what I want to discuss with you." The healer got up and walked over to a short table and picked up a thatched box and brought it back to Arthur setting it on the floor in front of him as she sat back down. "I have prepared a kit for you to use while caring for Emrys on the return trip to Camelot."

She opened the lid of the box and inside were various items. There were several neatly rolled wide strips of linen to use as bandages, three small bottles with corked lids, and a shallow bowel with four bundles of herbs resting inside along with a smooth stone about the size of his fist. Lifting up one of the corked bottles she handed it to Arthur.

"This is the antidote for the poison. Every time you stop you need to try to rouse him enough to get him to drink it."

"Hang on - Barach told me that you were giving him something to make him sleep until we arrive back at Camelot."

"Barach asked me to give him a powerful sleeping draught, but I am the healer here, and I will decide what I give my patient. It would be very unwise to drug Emrys in his condition."

Arthur was thankful that Nelora was such a strong personality and would not bow to ill advice from her community leader. "So you haven't wiped his memory of what happened today?"

"I have given him a medicinal draught that is designed to help fight off the poison. It does have the side effect of confusing very recent memory, but no, I have not specifically 'wiped' his memory as you suggest. I do not have the skill to remove someone's memory, and even if I had that skill I could not do so without Emrys' permission. He would have to willingly surrender his memory for the spell to work properly. Whatever he remembers of his time here will seem like the remnants of fevered delirium. This is something that you can reinforce by denying your visit here."

Arthur placed the bottle back in the box before crossing his arms over his chest. "I wanted to talk to you about that. Barach and the elders don't want me to tell Merlin that I know about his magic. I disagree - strongly. I don't see how this can be harmful to him or to this destiny that we share."

Nelora bowed her head as if gathering her thoughts. When she looked back up at Arthur he could see that she sympathized with his feelings in the matter.

"The journey that Emrys and you are on to find your places in the world has only just begun. There is a natural balance and order to everything and this occurrence has upset that balance. I know how difficult his life is, keeping this secret within his heart, but it is that very difficulty that is molding him into the man that he is destined to become. Without the benefit of the trials his life and his secret pose, he will not find his true path.

"Look at what he was able to do today. Emrys, commanded a magic that should have been impossible for him to wield, and yet he did so even though he was barely holding onto consciousness. Every time he must use magic to save your life and keep it secret at the same time, he grows in strength and in ability. The necessity of keeping his magic secret is what has kept him from the king's attention. These are skills he must hone in order to fulfill his destiny, just as you must hone your skills in order to fulfill your destiny to rule. Some of the lessons that you have learned have been difficult have they not?"

Arthur thought about the things that he had learned; the lessons that have been painful for him. The first one that came to mind was the unicorn. If he had not gone through that experience he would not have learned to appreciate how wrong he was to kill the animal, but more importantly he would not have learned the true value of humility. He nearly cost his people everything because of his pride. It was indeed a painful lesson that would have had far less impact if the difficulty in that lesson had been taken away. Arthur nodded as he thought about this and Nelora continued.

"It is imperative that Emrys be allowed to continue to learn and grow in his abilities in order to fulfill his role in the future. Would you willingly take those lessons from him?"

Arthur frowned, sighing, "No, I suppose I wouldn't. I do understand what you are saying, it's just that this will be very hard to keep to myself. I don't know how I am going to be able to keep such a big secret from the one person who has every right to know the truth. Can you tell me what exactly this prophecy says about him and about me? I think I have figured it out, but I want to understand it."

"I cannot tell you anything of the prophecy. You must understand that you already know too much. There is a danger in knowing the future, Arthur Pendragon. To know the future changes that future and that changes everything else. It is the most dangerous and difficult part of being a seer. The future is fluid and something very small and seemingly insignificant can drastically change what is to come. Emrys has kept this secret all of his life, from everyone whom he loves. Now the mantle of responsibility for the burden of his secret lays in your hands. Use the knowledge wisely; use it to protect him."

Arthur realized that Nelora had basically said much the same thing that Araben had, but somehow coming from her it seemed more credible; perhaps because she hadn't tried to kill him. He still didn't like it, but at least with the explanation Nelora had had given him, he thought he understood why it was so important. If Merlin could bear the weight of such a daunting secret for so long, then he could as well.

Nelora touched Arthur's hand to make sure she had his full attention. "Your court physician will know what to do when you get Emrys back to Camelot. You will not be able to hide the fact that he was cared for by a healer. Your physician will know when he examines Emrys, but you must make sure that information goes no further. Emrys must not know that he was here. He must not know that you are aware of his magic."

Arthur nodded a little reluctantly, then looked back at the box and pointed to the bowel with the herbs and stone inside.

"What are those for?"

Nelora waited for a moment before answering. She stared into his eyes as if trying to convince herself that he had taken her words to heart. After a moment she seemed satisfied and looked down at the box. She pulled out the bowel and set it on the floor next to the box.

"Use the stone to crush one of the herbs bundles up then place hot water in the bowel over the herbs to steep for a while. This is an antiseptic wash to clean the wound on his arm. Remove the bandages and allow any fluid seeping from the wound to drain. Rinse his arm throughly with water and then use the antiseptic wash on the wound. Put a clean bandage on and burn the old one. Infection will be the greatest risk to Emrys now, so you must do this every time you stop. The wash will hurt and will rouse him. After that you will be able to give him the antidote for the poison."

The instructions were simple enough, but Arthur was no physician and he was concerned that he wouldn't know what to do again if something happened. "How will I know that any of this is working? How will I know that an infection has started? If it does, then what should I do?"

"You can feel that his fever is high, but he isn't sweating; his skin is completely dry. If he begins to sweat that is a very good sign. It will mean that the antidote is working and the poison's grip on his body has been broken. If his arm becomes infected you will see a green or yellowish puss drain from the wound. In that case make sure you wash all of the puss away with water and use the antiseptic wash, just as I instructed. If an infection does start, watch for an increase in fever. Wipe down his brow when you can, but keep him covered in blankets. I will have extra blankets for you to take when you leave in the morning."

The thing that frightened Arthur the most hadn't been addressed. "What do I do if he stops breathing again?"

"That won't happen; not now. Remember that I told you the poison is no longer threatening his life. I have listened to his breathing carefully and I do not believe that it will be a problem again. At the pace you will be able to travel it will take you a day and a half to reach Camelot. I trust that you will cope well with him and not have to deal with any serious complications as long as you follow the instructions I have given you. I have spoken to Inalira. She and her husband will be wintering with us until he has recovered from his wounds. She insists that you use the travois to transport Emrys back to Camelot."

Arthur watched as Nelora replaced all of the items into the thatched box and put the lid back on it. "Thank you, Nelora, for everything."

TBC

A/N - Just in case anyone is wondering about the names I used in the first part of this chapter this is the eytmology of the names.

Eryl - Welsh: no gender - means a place of outlook, to watch

Grigor - Welsh: male - means watcher