Some sexual content in this chapter...
The scouts spotted Leon as he rode towards the castle. He was riding swiftly, the tunic that showed Camelot's colours was dirty and ripped, but he never thought to remove it, even when entering the other kingdom. He hadn't had much trouble getting past the nearby patrol of Cenred's men. Relations with Camelot had been going well since the two princes had worked out an agreement, which clarified where the patrols were meant to go and neither side had started any serious confrontation since.
Merlin remained temporarily unaware of Leon's sudden appearance. Instead he made his way through the castle, going down towards the library. The object of his hunt looked up in surprise as she saw him, but Freya smiled as Merlin appeared.
"Hello," Merlin said.
"My Lord," Freya said, getting up from her chair. Merlin waved her back down, dropping into the chair near hers.
"What are you doing?" Merlin asked, sifting through the pile of cobweb and dust ridden books on the table. A spider ran over the spine of one book, across the top, and over Merlin's hand. Freya jumped, leaning away slightly. Merlin caught up the spider and getting up put it over on a shelf a little distance away. It ran over the top of the books, it's spindly legs moving swiftly as it disappeared into the darkness at the back of the bookcase. Merlin came back and sat down again.
"No harm done."
Freya gave another smile, looking mildly embarrassed. "I'm not that frightened, I just don't want to touch them. I'm better with mice."
Merlin grinned at her. "Probably makes you think about a snack."
Freya looked equally amused and pained by the comment. Merlin leant forward and took her hand lightly.
"Sorry."
Freya shrugged, her head dropping, before she glanced up at Merlin from under her lowered brow.
"It's all right. You know what I become."
"We will find something, a way to help you."
"You're doing that already. It's almost normal, I don't mind the curfew. I'm dangerous, I'll hurt people. I didn't think there was any way of… everyone I knew cast me away."
Merlin squeezed her hand. The druids would still not acknowledge her. Iseldir at least had been forthcoming with some information but that was because he knew Merlin. But even he had been wary. Merlin however could not believe that Freya's crime had been anything other than self defence.
"I won't. But I think I am right, that perhaps the beast taps into the aggression you felt when you retaliated. The beast part of you lives in shadow, in the place between worlds. I think that maybe, it isn't to do with lifting the curse, but more to do with cutting off that connection."
Freya looked up. Merlin leant forward, rubbing his thumb over Freya's knuckles. She sat up in the chair, looking at him seriously.
"So," Merlin asked. "What are you doing?"
"Horaice is looking through some of the lost areas of the library, some of the books are worn. He wants me to check through them and clean through the redundant sections. There's so much he can't keep track of it."
She was still leaning towards him, their faces coming closer together.
"How long does he want you to stay here?" Merlin asked.
"I suppose as long as I can."
"But if I said I needed you for something, he wouldn't mind if you left."
Freya smiled, looking at her hand entwined with Merlin's.
"I suppose not."
"What's your favourite food, what would you like?" Merlin suddenly asked, causing Freya to look up in surprise. Her dark, wide eyes blinking in surprise. Merlin raised his eyebrows. "Well?"
"Strawberries," Freya said with great confidence. Merlin smiled and lifting his other hand, open his fist and revealed one small delicate rose bud. Freya looked at it, nestled in Merlin's palm. Angling his hand he let it roll to his fingers and took hold of the stem, holding it out and carefully concentrating. She watched as his eyes ripped with gold and the little bud gently unfurled it's petals. Merlin held it out to her.
"At least it's red."
Freya smiled, taking it from him. Merlin would have leant in closer but the thunder of feet down the corridor warned him that Percival was heading their way, at speed. Merlin leant back a little as his friend burst into the room, almost skidding to a halt. He looked at the scene and then focused on Merlin.
"Sorry! But the watch has just reported there is a rider heading to the castle at speed. He's in Camelot's colours."
"Just the one?"
"Yeah."
Merlin got up as Percival turned away heading back, sure in the knowledge that Merlin would follow. Merlin did, keeping hold of Freya, so she got up and followed him, running close to him, but a little behind as they went down the corridor, up to steps and then down a small spiral staircase out into the main hall and out of the door.
The moment that Merlin came out Sir Leon made it to the courtyard. No one stopped him and he felt grateful for that. He got into the courtyard of Cenred's castle and dismounted, his knees almost going out from under him as his feet met the floor. He gripped the saddle of the weary horse. The animal lowered it's head. Leon could feel the mare's sides heaving from the exertion he had put it under. His own breath came in short ragged gasps.
A soldier ran forward to take the horse and Percival reached to take Leon's arm, to help hold him upright.
"Sir Leon?" Merlin said. "You look like you need to rest."
Leon shook his head, resisting Percival's attempts to lead him inside.
"No, I cannot, I came at Arthur's request but he is making his way through the forest. He asked me to come to tell you he has been forced to enter your kingdom."
"Whatever for?" Merlin asked. He had released Freya's hand, almost without realising, until she came forward with some water for Leon. He took the cup gratefully, gulping it down.
"Get some more for him Freya, and some food, Percival bring him to the council chamber."
At Merlin's order Percival didn't take no for an answer and Leon felt too tired to resist, although he knew he had to go as soon as he could. By the time he was sat, drinking a little more water, and eating a little food Cenred had joined them. He stood at the far end of the room, not taking his chair but facing Leon standing up. Merlin sat down, and Percival lingered by Leon, not sure if he wanted to protect or threaten the exhausted looking knight.
"I do apologise, but this was of the utmost urgency. I have to catch up with Arthur, he's injured, and I need to get to him. I know he says the injury is not serious but…"
"What injury?" Merlin demanded. "What is going on?"
"The dragon," Leon panted. "The Great Dragon is loose; he's attacking Camelot, every night for three nights. The walls are falling, people are fleeing the town for the woods, or cowering in the citadel. If the beast carries on, Camelot will fall within the month."
"So Arthur wants us to help, me to help?" Merlin said. He glanced at Cenred, who said nothing. The king's hands clenched at his sides, but no one noticed.
"No, not exactly, we just needed to enter the kingdom. Gaius told us, in the forest, we could find him."
Merlin raised his eyebrows at the emphasis. Then Leon clarified.
"Balinor. The last Dragonlord."
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Hunith found her entire world shaken to the foundations. Neither she nor Cenred had ever informed Merlin of his parentage, and now it hit them right in the face. Hunith felt angry, and frightened. She felt angry at Gaius, who knew, who had known that Balinor might have been alive. She could have gone to him, been with him, when she knew she was with child. If that had been the case, Cenred would never have found them. She stopped walking as that thought occurred to her. For a moment she tried to imagine what her life would have been like, would she have been happy? Was she happy now? She was content, of that she was certain, but did that mean the same thing?
At that moment Merlin was readying for the journey, Leon resting, and Percival dispatched to catch up with Arthur. Percival would find it easier to locate the prince than the knight of Camelot. Percival would demand respect or fear, whichever was necessary, to locate the trail and find the injured Arthur, and then Balinor. The rest of them would catch up in time.
Merlin still remained ignorant. Hunith had not spoken to him yet. The only two people that knew were herself and Cenred. She felt compelled to speak to the king first. He was planning to accompany Merlin, it settled and frightened her to know that. Cenred was more than capable of killing Balinor, giving Merlin the powers of a Dragonlord. But then Merlin would know the truth, in the worst possible way. He forgave his father a good deal, ignoring some of his baser traits, Merlin possessed some of them himself. This she wasn't sure of, and she somehow didn't want Merlin to hate him, even if such an emotion could be easily found where Cenred was concerned.
Opening up the door to Cenred's bedchamber, a place she had only seen a handful of times, she dismissed the servant with a wave of her hand.
"I'll do it," she informed the boy, who left willingly, already sensing the king's tension and feeling it rise as Hunith came into the room. For something to do she packed in a spare undershirt that the boy had folded, all the while she remained aware of Cenred's angry eyes on her.
"You have what you want then, don't you?" he growled at her.
Hunith paused, looking up.
"And what is that? You think I want this? When are you even aware of what I want?"
"Merlin's father," Cenred said humourlessly, the smirk on his face went nowhere close to his eyes as he walked towards her. "The one you wanted, even when you told me. You think you can have him, you whore."
Hunith's eyes widened, she stepped to meet Cenred without even thinking about it and bringing back her hand delivered him a sharp blow to his cheek. He recoiled under the impact and straightened up, his eyes glistening. Hunith gritted her teeth as she saw his reaction, and registered the body language. In the early years she had watched him carefully, very unsure of him, and beyond that had continued to do so without meaning to. She knew him so well; his next instinct, the one that was rising, would be to strike back. He was perfectly capable of it, but she didn't feel a flicker of fear. She just dealt with him the best way she knew. Before he could hit her, she hit him again, putting the same amount of force into the blow.
"Don't you dare, Cenred. Don't you dare do anything, and don't you imply anything!" she hissed at him.
He stared at her, the heat flared across the skin of his cheek. Hunith had been entirely right, the second blow had knocked him off his stride. He would have hit her back, but Merlin would have been furious with him, Cenred would have been furious with himself, for if nothing else, he had admitted a weakness that had been obvious to both of them for years.
"You think that because he is Merlin's father there is still something between us. He left me in the middle of the night to protect me, just as I had started to realise I might be carrying his child. He left to protect me, and if you really want to look at that coldly, he didn't do a good job. What am I really except the whore of a king?"
She stepped forward, Cenred held himself still but the venom in her voice made him lean back slightly.
"And in case you have forgotten, I have given you a child, not to mention seventeen years of my life. Almost half my life. And you dare to dismiss that as nothing!"
She lifted her hand to hit him again, and he lashed out, grabbing her wrist, his grip tight. Her arm and body remained tense. She wasn't about to give in to him.
"Don't you dare think that this is meaningless, you bastard!"
Cenred stared down at her, she was tense with fury, eyes glistening with fear and anger, face flushed, tendrils of hair were falling free of the sliver coronet that she wore in her hair, one that he had given her, one of many. He took in every inch of her, the tension, the anger and the determination in her entire being.
It couldn't be denied as a rather clear point. She had been with him for seventeen years, though which she had acquiesced to him, accepted him, tolerated him and bullied him. The last one was subtle, but it remained.
He felt the heat of his anger rush to his groin. After two heavy breaths he used his other hand to grab her hair and he pulled her close, pressing his lips down on hers with force. There was tension for a moment before she yielded to him, and more than that. She kissed him back, putting as much force into it as he was himself, almost making it a battle. One she appeared determined to win.
Eventually they both needed to come up for air, pulling away from each other. They stared at each other almost with shock, and most definitely lust. Cenred released his grip on her wrist, flinging her arm up as he did so to prevent it from being in his way as he wrapped his arm around her waist. Hunith responded by grabbing his shoulder and pulling on him to draw him into another kiss. Cenred slammed his lips back down on hers, using the grip he had on her waist to push her back. As she stumbled against the bed Cenred held her to stop her falling and instead lifted her up and threw her backwards. Some of the careful packing scattered as Cenred clambered onto her, kicking the saddlebag aside and taking the hem of her dress lifted it up, pushing it out of the way, the thick heavy folds gathering up around her waist.
Hunith lay back, a little stunned but totally willing as Cenred dealt with the delicate material of her underwear as swiftly as possible, simply ripping it off her, exposing her lower half. She spread her legs in invitation, and gasped as Cenred buried his face between her legs. Her back arched and she gasped, her body quivering as her nerves responded.
Cenred's hand worked on his own trousers, giving a brief flicker of thanks to the fact he hadn't yet dressed in his battle leathers. He tore the lacings and as he rose up he pulled them down, kicking them off. A moment later his lips met hers again and he was inside her.
The coupling was brief, violent and for both of them, satisfying. Cenred took her without any real care, and Hunith responded, almost demanding it of him. As he felt Hunith's body clench, his own followed, until they dropped into a panting heap, Cenred collapsing on top of her.
Neither of them could move for several minutes, they both lay there processing what had just happened. Cenred pressed his face into her neck, his breath damp and hot against her skin. Somewhere along the way his fingers had intertwined with hers. He made no move to separate his hand from hers. They lay together quietly for several minutes, the sound of their breathing the only noise in the room. Until Cenred raised his head, looking down at her as if he couldn't quite believe she was there. Hunith decided she probably looked much the same. They carefully looked at each other before she broke the silence. She went directly to practical matters, to the one subject they could easily talk about, and always had been able to.
She didn't even think about saying any words of affection, and neither did he. It was something they had never done, and it would be foolish to start now. The sudden physical act said all that needed to be said between them.
"Merlin will have to be told," Hunith said.
"You should do it, you know more than I do about what happened. It could be Balinor is dead. We should wait until he know if he is alive or not."
"I don't think we should," Hunith said. "If Merlin had developed the power of a Dragonlord, I think he might have noticed. It should be done before you both leave."
"It's not always the case that the power is passed on," Cenred said. Hunith raised her eyebrows.
"All things considered, I think it likely that Merlin will inherit Balinor's gift."
Cenred considered that. His adopted son carried so much magic in him. He had to concede that Hunith was right. Quite often, in her own subtle way, she ended up being right. Cenred nodded, looking down at her, carefully lifting himself off her. Hunith winced slightly as she sat up. They both stared at each other, half dressed and dishevelled, smirking at each other as they realised the state they had got themselves into.
"Merlin wants to leave as soon as possible," Cenred said.
Hunith nodded. "I'll talk to him."
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Percival was not happy. He was wet. The weather had started to turn as he followed the quickest route, picking up Arthur's trail, and one quick conversation with a farmer told him he was catching up. It was dark as he rode into the large village, which seemed, all things considered as the rain continued to fall, a likely place for Arthur to stop. As much as Arthur wanted to find Balinor, stumbling around in the dark would be stupid, and Percival didn't think Arthur was that.
Plus Arthur would also need information on locating Balinor. Gaius had only known that he was living in the forest somewhere, but that didn't mean anything. Somebody had to know something.
He headed into the stable, sighing with relief as he got out of the rain. The horse behind him snorted with the same feeling. The mare dripped onto the stable floor, shaking herself to dislodge some of the droplets. Looking around Percival located the stable boy dozing on a pile of straw. He led the horse over and nudged the boy with his foot. The youth gave a little grumble and settled down again. Percival rolled his eyes, which made him carefully note the horse resting in one of the stalls, the tack placed nearly was most definitely familiar. Percival nudged the boy a little more forcefully, he rolled and his eyes flashed open.
The mild irritation in them faded away as he looked up at Percival. The boy scrambled to his feet, as Percival held out the horse's reins.
"I'm sorry, My Lord."
He took the reins off Percival, leading the mare into a stall, running a rope around her neck to secure her in position while he removed the bridle. Percival watched him for a moment, and then stepped over to look at the horse in the nearby stable. There was definite quality to the animal and Percival remained convinced he had seen it before.
"Tell me, the man riding that horse, is he staying in the tavern."
The boy paused, staring up at him. "I believe so, My Lord."
Percival nodded. "Rub her down and feed her, I'll be back to check on her in a while, just leave the saddlebags to one side, I'll collect them when I come back."
The boy nodded eagerly, his face brightening as Percival handed him a silver coin, which the boy swiftly hid away.
"Of course, My Lord."
Percival left him, and walked the short distance to the tavern entrance, ducking his head as the rain lashed down on him. He opened the door and walked in shutting the elements out. Percival swiftly surveyed the room. There were only a handful of people, clustered in little groups, and a young woman tidying up around the bar. All of them turned to stare at him. Percival settled his shoulders back and flexed his arms, striding across the room to the bar. The girl looked at him warily.
"The man who arrived on that bay gelding in your stable, where is he?"
The girl blinked, staring up at him. She was drying a tankard, which seemed to require an inordinate amount of concentration. Most of the time Percival would be polite, but he was dripping wet, and he wanted to find Arthur as soon as possible. He put his hands on the bar and leant forward.
"He took a room here. Which one? He's a little shorter than me, blond hair…"
Percival stopped talking as he watched the girl's eyes flicker, drifting to a point just over his right shoulder. It was all Percival needed. He straightened up, swayed to one side and spinning on his heel intercepted the hand that was holding a long knife. He grabbed the man's wrist and then latched his other hand around the man's neck, lifting him up onto his toes, and swivelling again slammed his back against the bar.
"Now that's not very nice," Percival said with mock amiability. The man struggled in his grip, his hand grabbing at Percival's in a futile gesture. He glanced from the struggling man to the wide eyed barmaid. "Now, as I was saying, the gentlemen whose horse is in the stable, which room is he in?"
Percival tensed, turning his head a little as someone in the room behind him stirred, clearly planning to intervene. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a man trying to stand up, and another reaching out to restrain him, leaning forward to urgently whisper to his friend.
"Are you mad? That's Sir Percival, Prince Merlin's bodyguard!"
Percival turned his head, the man who had been intending to get up sat back down again, dropping into his seat, and the rest of the room stirred in an uneasy fashion. Merlin had his own reputation, and Percival often found himself caught on the coattails, but his own could rival Merlin's. Percival felt the tension in the air increase, each person in the room eyeing him warily. He was not someone to be taken lightly.
"Now," Percival said, his voice gentle but firm as he turned his attention back to the barmaid. "The gentleman whose horse is in your stable, what room is he in?"
She pointed in the direction of the stairs.
"Up the stairs, second on the right," she informed him, her voice shaking audibly.
Percival nodded at her, while he clenched his hand on his opponents' wrist, forcing him to drop the knife. He probably would have gasped with pain, but it was busy trying to breathe through Percival's restraining hand. Percival partly let him go and as the man's knees buckled Percival rapped the back of his head against the bar. His attacker dropped like a sack of potatoes.
"Thank you," he said to the girl before striding to the stairs and walking up them.
He went straight to the door she had mentioned. He didn't think anyone would be foolish enough to lie to him. He wouldn't take it very well if someone did. If nothing else, where he went Merlin was bound to appear at some point. The first clue he had was the door, slightly ajar, where the rest were closed. Percival didn't bother to knock he just opened the door and strode in.
Neither man in the room got a chance to acknowledge him. The first they knew of it was Percival again grabbing someone around the throat and then the wrist that was holding a knife. Arthur had been struggling to hold it away from his throat, gripping the man's wrist with both hands, while attempting to bring his knee into place the knock the man away. Percival lifted him off without any real effort, holding Arthur's attacker in place the same way he had his own.
"I have to say, this isn't a very friendly place," Percival observed. Then he glanced at Arthur. "Are you all right?"
Arthur slowly sat up, and he nodded, but Percival didn't feel inclined to agree with that. There was an almost green tinge to Arthur's skin, and his face was damp with sweat. Lank tendrils of hair hung over his forehead, sticking in patches. As he was shirtless Percival could assess the bandage that had been secured around Arthur's shoulder. It also looked dampened with sweat, and the wound had bled through. Percival waited a moment to let Arthur get his breath back and instead turned his attention to the man who he casually held, squeezing again to encourage the man to drop his knife.
"I can't wait to here the explanation for this."
"He's just a thief, I woke up to find him rummaging through my pack."
"Who's the landlord here?" Percival asked.
Arthur nodded at the man Percival was holding. "He is."
The man's eyes widened as Percival clenched his hand on the landlord's throat.
"Nice little scam, just wander in and see what your guests have that's of value. Business going well?"
"I meant no harm," the man coughed. "It just pays to be careful."
Percival raised his eyebrows, dragging the man to the door. "Well, why don't you carefully go downstairs, otherwise I might be inclined to throw you."
"Wait!" Arthur said, or rather gasped. He stood up, moving slowly and wavering on his feet. "I think he knows where I can find Balinor."
Percival paused, and then shook the unfortunate man, loosening the grip on his throat to allow him to talk.
"Trust me, you want to tell him," Percival announced. The man looked from him to Arthur and back again. As he met Percival's eyes again he gave the man's throat an encouraging squeeze.
"He lives in a cave by the river, been there years" the man eventually managed to squawk. "Best place for him!"
"Why?" Arthur asked.
"Balinor hates everyone and everything."
Percival shrugged. "Go away, and if you feel an urge to try again, or even consider going anywhere near our horses, talk to your friends downstairs, and they'll explain why it's not a good idea."
With that Percival bundled him out of the room and closed the door. Arthur sat back down on the end of the bed.
"You look awful," Percival commented. Arthur huffed, his face trying to smile but it seemed to contort into a grimace.
"Thanks," Arthur said. "Leon reached you?"
"Yes, he looked little better than you do. Merlin sent me on ahead, Leon was worried about you." Percival went over and lifted a section of the bandage to peer at the wound underneath. "Now I see why."
"It's not been an easy few days."
Arthur tensed as Percival manhandled him a little, pushing him up the bed and encouraging him to lie down.
"I've brought some supplies, when Leon said you were injured Merlin made sure I came prepared. I doubt our friend will be back, since his clientele know exactly who I am. I'll get my stuff, and get that treated. You shouldn't be travelling at all by the look of you."
"I had to, if I don't do this there won't be anything left."
"We'll find this Dragonlord, Merlin is on his way as well, and the king."
That caused Arthur's eyes to flash open, looking mildly alarmed.
"King Cenred?"
"The fact that a Dragonlord has been living in his kingdom for so long came as quite a shock to him. I would say he wants to protect his interests. Look, just relax, I'll be back in a minute, you should be fine now. No one will bother us. I need to check that wound over."
Arthur nodded, lying back as Percival went out of the door. He closed his eyes and relaxed trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his shoulder. It had saved his life, keeping him just on the point of wakefulness, so he had heard the creak of the floorboards as the man had crept in. At least he had got a little further, he could find Balinor, but with Cenred on his tail that meant that he would protect the Dragonlord and no doubt attempt to use the dragon.
If Cenred took control of the beast it would put Camelot in an increasingly shaky position. The kingdom had always been the central point, the strongest of all the kingdoms. Over the years that control had felt like it was slipping. Cenred's power had slowly risen, with Merlin as his heir, openly using magic, becoming strong enough to rival Camelot. Arthur clenched his teeth, he understood why his father had been against his journey, and more clearly against informing King Cenred of what they were doing. But if he didn't do something, then Camelot would be lost. Arthur sighed heavily, closing his eyes again, he felt tired, the wound throbbing making him feel sick.
He jerked out of his half doze as he heard the footsteps on the stairs. Quite instinctively he put out a hand to reach for his sword, taking the hilt and holding it loosely, just in case. Although, he was disinclined to think that any would be attackers would be quite so noisy. An assessment that became entirely accurate as Percival nudged open the door, his saddlebags draped over one shoulder, and he raised his eyebrows as he saw Arthur release the grip on his sword.
"Sorry I took a while, I thought I might as well bandage up the mare since I was down there."
Arthur raised his eyebrows. "I come after the horse do I?"
Percival dumped his bags down on the second bed. "You get to make a choice over whether you dash madly across the countryside, she didn't and I ran her pretty hard. I want her to be able to move first thing in the morning."
"Fair enough," Arthur said, sitting up as Percival rummaged in his pack, pulling out three vials, some bandages and a pot. He settled them all on the bed and pulled a small dagger from his boot.
"Let's cut those old bandages off, they look like they've had their day. I asked the barmaid to bring up some water."
"You think she will."
"I've knocked one customer out and nearly strangled the landlord. They know who I am, no one will cause any trouble."
Arthur frowned as he looked at Percival. Percival raised his gaze from his work as he cut Arthur's bandages and gave a little shrug before going back to what he was doing. Arthur felt a low shiver of fear, which he carefully contained as he realised it might be entirely possible that Percival was capable of anything. Whatever Merlin ordered him.
A moment later there was a timid knock on the door.
"Come in," Percival said.
The little barmaid shuffled into the room with a water jug and bowl, she eyed Percival nervously. Percival however looked up at smiled, which Arthur saw, immediately put the girl at ease. Arthur watched her reaction as she gave a coquettish smile.
"Could you just put that on the table for me, my lovely?"
Arthur almost rolled his eyes at the term of endearment. The girl blushed and Percival kept his smile in place. She settled everything and then turned to them.
"Will there be anything else?"
"Not for the moment, thank you," Percival said gently. She gave a little curtsey and hurried out of the door. He reached over and poured some water into the bowl, and then he turned back to Arthur.
"What?"
"How very charming you are?"
Percival shrugged. "I don't mind picking on people who start it, but she's about a quarter my size. How the hell did you get this close to the dragon?"
Arthur winced as Percival carefully started to wash the wound, pouring something from one of the vials into the water.
"It will help clear out any infection," he informed Arthur.
The prince nodded and then winced again. After a moment he spoke.
"Gaius needed water for the infirmary, the well is out in the courtyard and everyone had been ordered to stay in the castle."
"Gaius went out there?"
Arthur shook his head. "No, Guinevere did. She and Morgana were assisting Gaius with the casualties. She's fine," Arthur added as Percival looked at him in alarm. "She had just got the water when the dragon came down. I just happened to be there. I pulled her clear but the beast caught me on the shoulder."
Percival gave Arthur a grateful look.
"I wouldn't have wanted anything to happen to her," Percival said.
"No," Arthur said. "I dare say you wouldn't."
Percival scowled as Arthur smirked at him. Then the prince's face turned serious again.
"And nothing works on the beast. We've fired everything we have at him."
"He's an ancient creature of magic, good chance is that nothing mortal will work on him."
"If we can't find Balinor, will Merlin help?"
Percival shrugged. "Probably, but I doubt he will allow you to kill the dragon. It's the only one in existence." Percival turned and picked up the jar, opening the top to expose the thick cream inside.
"This should help treat any infection, and I have something to help bring down your fever. With any luck you should feel well enough to travel at first light. I can leave Merlin word of which direction we are heading in. You want to find Balinor as quickly as possible."
"I need to. The citadel can't hold against the dragon for much longer, it will be at least another night the dragon will be free to attack. Even if Merlin won't allow it to be killed, it will need to be contained again."
"I doubt Merlin will allow that either, but he will prevent the creature from attacking. Killing or trapping it will be in either case the last resort."
Arthur said nothing for a moment.
"It's not ideal, I've seen the damage it had done, but I'll take whatever I can to stop it."
"You can't blame the dragon all that much."
Arthur frowned, glaring at Percival.
"He's attacking innocent people."
"King Uther, your father, slaughtered all of his kind, and all of the Dragonlords, bar one. You're quick enough to retaliate when someone attacks the kingdom, how would you react if someone slaughters everything and everyone you have ever known?"
Arthur said nothing as Percival applied the poultice and carefully wrapped the wound up again.
Putting it like that, there was nothing Arthur really could say.