A/N: Hey guys! Finally back from my holiday and ready to start uploading again! I tried to update on holiday but I swear my laptop is xenophobic, it seemed to hate Welsh Wi-Fi for some reason so...sorry I kept you wating for a while! Anyways school's over for summer, plenty of time to write! Also I'm going to be reading and reviewing some of your stories so, review mine and I'll review yours! Enjoy!

Chapter 21-Lies

Arthur froze only for the briefest of moments before and lifting his sword into a defensive position. Judging by the betrayed and angry looks on the Druid's faces around him, the cloaked leader was one of the sorcerers that had abandoned them. He could only imagine how he'd feel if one of his own Knights had turned against him.

Arthur felt a flicker of fear at coming up against a fully-trained powerful sorcerer, but he pushed that aside. As far as he could see this sorcerer was the only one there, which was at least one thing in their favour. Arthur might be useless against a sorcerer, but the rest of the Druids weren't. He could handle the soldiers himself, there were about fifty, he was certain they would be no match for himself and the Druid warriors. He found himself eyeing them all up, judging who were the most dangerous, looking for weak spots in their defence.

Fyrmest strode forward towards them, a steely look in his eye, unlike the friendly one that was usually there. Arthur had beforehand considered him as a peace-lover, less than useless in a fight, but looking at him now, he could see that Fyrmest was not one to cross when angry.

"Fylgan. It pains me to see you turn against your old friends. Think about what you are doing."

Fylgan sneered, his black eyes glinted underneath a mess of grey hair.

"I have Fyrmest. Long and hard. This is something I resolved to do twenty years ago. If you will not join us in the true cause, you are our enemies."

Fyrmest's look hardened. Gone was the tiredness and worry that had lined his features before, here was a determined man.

"What have you done with these villagers?" His voice was cold.

Fylgan just smiled, his harsh features twisting wickedly.

"They have been taken care of. Byrne thought you might return here. We've been sent to take care of you as well."

Merlin darted forward angrily.

"What have you done with them!"

Arthur hastily seized the back of the boy's cloak, it would not do to lunge into battle in the heat of the moment. Time had to be taken to analyse the situation. Although Arthur's blood had run cold at Fylgan's words, he knew it was pure idiocy to attack without a clear mind.

Fylgan still refused to say.

Merlin began struggling to get away from Arthur.

"You're pathetic! Attacking innocent people to get at me! Byrne too afraid to take care of his own dirty work? Instead he left you behind to pick up the pieces! What's the matter? Does it sting that you weren't invited to the real battle? Byrne not trust you enough?"

Fylgan grew angry at Merlin's taunts.

"Byrne was very angry at you, young Merlin. Imagine his delight when I finally take care of you for him!"

A great rush of magic came from Fylgan and Arthur felt it burn along the side of his face before Merlin pushed him down forcedly to the ground. Arthur grunted as he felt the plates of his armour dig into his back.

Chaos had erupted about them. Hoards of Druids threw spells at the soldiers and Fylgan, a rush of multi-colours flying through the air, before bouncing off of some invisible shield Fylgan had created.

Arthur groaned. How was supposed to try and take care of the sorcerers when he couldn't even get to them?

However his despair was short-lived, the shield seemed to be wavering. Every spell that struck it seemed to be breaking it down, they were no longer bouncing off. Arthur could see the look of fear of Fylgan's face. He had not anticipated this, it was clear he had not expected so many Druids to be fighting. Why else had he come with no other sorcerer to back him up?

Eventually the shield seemed to have been breached, and the Druid warriors surged forward. Arthur picked himself up from the ground and joined them, running into the sea of blue-tunics with his blade held high.

These soldiers did not seem to be much of a threat, they recoiled in fear as the warriors rushed towards them, screaming angrily. Arthur was surprised at how little they were trained, most appeared not to be much older than boys.

However Arthur did not allow himself to be distracted and fought them, trying to ignore the young faces he encountered, he reminded himself that they had begun the attack.

Their attack however was weak, Arthur guessed Byrne had deliberately left the weakest of the army behind. They were inexperienced, no match for him.

Swords came at him from all directions, he dodged and ducked and struck out, feeling flesh and bone meet metal. Instinct took over, this was elemental, natural to him. He had no time for fear, adrenaline coursed through his veins, he saw only the enemy.

The faces which had looked so cruel upon entering the village were now contorted in fear. Many ran for the forest. However most stayed and fought, grinning maniacally.

Then Arthur saw a flash of metal, a sword falling straight down on his head out of the corner of his eye. He had left open his defence on the left flank. He did not have time to avoid it. There was no way out.

Then, just before the sword and Arthur's head made contact, the sword broke upon an invisible barrier, which shimmered in front of Arthur's eyes.

He saw the look of surprise in the offending soldier's eyes before Arthur cut him down, not allowing himself to miss the opportunity while the soldier's attention was distracted.

Arthur looked around about him; what had happened?

He looked through the mass of bodies engaged in combat and saw Fyrmest and the majority of the other Druids still standing where they always had, just looking on. Arthur felt a stab of anger, why were they holding back?

Then he caught Fyrmest's eye, who silently nodded at him. Then he understood, they weren't doing nothing. They didn't want to kill, but they were using their magic to protect their own warriors thereby indirectly influencing the battle. Arthur was grateful, this defensive magic had saved his life, he had never once thought he would be thanking a Druid. He remained confused however, why wouldn't they use magic directly on the enemy?

Although Arthur knew the Druid's magic was protecting him from any harm, he did not lower his guard, mainly out of habit than anything else. He would have felt exposed without defending himself. It was not a matter of not trusting the Druids ability to protect him, more that he felt more comfortable fighting his own battles.

A flap of a cloak caught his eye, and he saw Merlin running away from the battle towards the houses. He frowned for a moment, it was not like Merlin to be a coward. Then it dawned on him: Hunith. Of course, Merlin would be searching for her. It was not as though he was much good in a fight anyway.

The sounds of metal hitting metal slowly began to fade, and agonising screams came to an end. Most of the soldiers had fallen or fled. The Druid warriors and Arthur slowly advanced on Fylgan who stood alone in the middle of the dead bodies of his own soldiers; none of the Druids had fallen. He cast around desperately, looking for back-up, but when none was available, he stopped.

He turned to face Arthur and gave him such a look of pure loathing it rose the hairs on the back of Arthur's neck. Then a pulse of great energy issued from him, knocking them all back onto the hard ground and he too ran.

Several of the Druids immediately ran after him into the dark trees but returned a few moments later, saying that he had Transported.

Arthur let out a curse. Now Fylgan was gone he would report back to his leader, Byrne would know their attempt to stop the Druids had been fruitless. It would have been to their advantage to have Byrne think they had been subdued.

The Druids began to walk amongst the dead soldiers, checking for signs of life, but their efforts had been in vain. It disturbed Arthur how easily they had been defeated. These were not proper soldiers. They were just commoners, dressed up in armour and handed a sword.

One of the Druids cried out, and the others rushed towards him. Lying on the ground in a pool of blood was one of then young soldiers, not much more than seventeen. There was a look of pure terror on his face as the Druids towered over him. He shook and stammered, looking like a child. It seemed Arthur's theories were true, Cendred had recruited mere boys.

The Druid who Arthur knew to be the village Healer, though he couldn't remember his name, knelt down to him and began to examine his injuries gently. The boy pulled away with a squeak of terror.

The Druid's voice was calm and reassuring.

"Do not fear me, I will help you."

The boy frowned, his face pale under the blood splatters on his face.

"Why would you help me?"

The Druid smiled.

"Because that's what we do."

The boy seemed more confused than ever.

"But-I'm your enemy! Why are you being kind to me?"

"We're all human aren't we? Sometimes compassion is what is needed."

The boy had no answer, and remained silent as the Healer ran his hands over his injuries, muttering some words under his breath. He flinched as the Healer's eyes grew golden and tried to move away, but the Druid held him there, until he finally sat back.

"You're healed." He said simply.

The boy looked down at his chest in disbelief, where only a few moments before there had been several deep gashes.

He looked back up at the Druids, shocked and confused.

"But, they told me...they said you were evil, that you no feelings, no mercy. They said the people of Camelot and their allies have nothing on their mind but blood lust. They said you were barely human!"

"Well they were wrong there, weren't they?" Arthur spoke to him a little stiffly. He had been slightly put-out by the lies against his people.

The boy looked down at the insignia on Arthur's tunic, and his eyes widened as he realised who had spoken to him..

Arthur considered him for a moment. He seemed genuinely surprised at the mercy he was being given. What lies had he been told? Arthur felt a sudden upsurge of rage against Cendred. He had been spreading lies and rumours about Camelot throughout his kingdom. He had indoctrinated them. They really believed they were fighting against pure evil. Who wouldn't rush to protect their kingdom from perceived ruthless invaders?

Fyrmest crouched down and looked into his eyes and was silent. His gaze was locked with the boy's and he seemed to see something there that Arthur didn't. He nodded satisfied.

He stood back up again.

He turned to face the Elders and Arthur.

"He had no idea what he was doing, he thought he was doing the right thing, defending his country against merciless aggressors. Cendred had spread distrust among his people, turning them against Camelot. This boy was not responsible for his actions."

The Elders nodded in agreeement and Fyrmest turned back to the boy, who was watching them warily, still lying in the blood from wounds that no longer existed.

Fyrmest smiled at him and spoke to him kindly.

"What is your name?"

The boy hesitated for a moment, obviously still a little distrustful.

"Arian," he answered after a moment.

Fyrmest turned to the Healer.

"Hālian, is he fully healed?"

"Almost, I must give him a potion for the blood loss and he should not over-exert himself for a while, but, he will live."

Fyrmest looked gratified.

"It seems you shall make a full recovery Arian, I am sure you are relieved."

Arian was still in disbelief.

"You mean- you're not going to kill me?"

Fyrmest shook his head.

"We do not kill the innocent. You are a misguided sheep Arian, we shall not blame you for what you have been told. What lies you have heard."

Fyrmest reached down, placed his arm under Arian's elbow and lifted him to his feet, where he swayed for a moment, unsteady on his feet. His eyes darted around, unsure, suspicious.

Arthur saw how fearful he was, he must have heard some truly terrible stories to make him like this. Then Arthur saw that the Druid warriors were still standing around him, looking fiercer than ever with their blades and bodies splattered with blood. No wonder he was frightened.

Arthur caught Fyrmest's eye and looked pointedly at the warriors. He seemed to understand, and the warriors withdrew, after what Arthur assumed was a mental request.

Arian seemed calmer, and Fyrmest began to question him.

"Now Arian, we will not hurt you, we promise that. We need you to tell us where the villagers are."

Arian looked slightly fearful again, and hesitated before answering. It took all of Arthur's will-power not to lose his patience.

"I-I don't know. When we arrived, I was told to patrol the outside, waiting for you to arrive, I didn't go into the village."

Fyrmest pressed him.

"But you must know what they were planning, what happened to them. Were they killed?"

"I don't think so. They were supposed to be 'leverage' for someone called Emrys. They weren't supposed to be harmed. Fylgan wanted them alive, but I don't know what happened to them."

Fyrmest seemed relieved and turned to Arthur.

"If they were intended to be hostages, they likelihood is that they are alive and well."

Arthur nodded.

"But where?"

Fyrmest had no answer.

At that moment Merlin returned, looking angrier than Arthur had ever seen him.

He saw Arian and strode towards him.

"Where are they? What have you done with them?"

Arthur had never heard Merlin shout like that before, he could hear the pain in Merlin's voice. But he could also see the immense anger there, anger he had never before seen in his usually gentle manservant.

"Emrys-" Fyrmest tried to calm him down, but Merlin was not phased.

"What the hell have you done with them!"

Arian looked even more frightened. Arthur had seen him start at the name Emrys, he had obviously heard of Merlin's reputation.

"I don't know." He said in a small voice, his face pale.

"Don't play innocent! You were here! You must know!"

Sparks began to fly from Merlin's outstretched fingers and his hand began to glow with magic.

Fyrmest rushed over to beside him.

"Calm down Emrys! You cannot lose control of your magic! You must maintain a clear head!"

Merlin shot a look at Fyrmest, as though about to shout back at him, but then he relaxed, and his face seemed to grow calmer. He closed his eyes as though in great concentration.

He took a deep breath, opened his eyes and looked back at Fyrmest.

"I'm sorry."

Fyrmest nodded.

"It's understandable."

He turned back to Arian, who had watched this with a cautious expression.

"Think Arian, we must find them, is there any clue as to where they might be?"

Arian thought for a moment.

"I honestly don't know where they are, but I know the soldiers that took them didn't go far, they weren't gone for long. They must be nearby."

Fyrmest sighed.

"At least that's something."

He then sent a small group of Druids away to search in the surrounding forest, before addressing Merlin.

"There's no sign of them in the village?"

Merlin shook his head.

"I searched every house."

Fyrmest looked disturbed for a moment.

"They must be alive, it is only a matter of finding them." He spoke quietly, as though reassuring himself. He then spoke to all of the Druids.

"We shall rest here for a while, recover some of our strength until we march again."

Arthur turned to him.

"Dawn is only a little while away. Cendred and Byrne could be arriving there at any moment."

Fyrmest's eyes acknowledged the truth of this.

"There is nothing more we can do at present."

He strode off into the village, leaving Arthur and Merlin standing together.

Arthur could almost taste Merlin's worry in the air. He regarded him carefully, and saw his face creased in fear and anxiety.

"Don't worry Merlin, Hunith's the toughest woman I've ever known. She'll be all right."

Merlin didn't reply, but Arthur could tell he was grateful for his words.

Morgana then approached them, her bare arms speckled with blood. Her eyes were fixed on Arian who stood on the edge of the village, unsure whether he was welcome there.

"That poor boy, he's so frightened. What sick lies did they tell him to make him so afraid?"

Arthur replied: "I don't know, but if he was stupid enough to believe them..."

Merlin broke his silence at that point.

"You mean like stupid enough to believe that all sorcerers are evil and plotting to take over Camelot?" he asked Arthur with a knowing glance.

Arthur winced.

"Point taken."

Morgana bit her lip and looked around in frustration.

"Where could they hide an entire village? What place would be large enough?"

Arthur was clueless.

Then a look of comprehension dawned on Merlin's stony cold features.

"What?" Arthur asked him urgently. "Where could they be?"

Merlin turned to face him, hope in his eyes.

"The storage pit."

"The what?"

"The storage pit! It's just through the trees, it's where we store the harvest, where we keep the food to last us through the year. Ours is one of the largest around here, its why Kanan was so intent on raiding our village!"

At this, Merlin rushed off, running furiously. Arthur and Morgana followed.

Merlin ran into the trees, leaping over logs and dead branches. Arthur looked at the trees around him, they looked identical to the ones elsewhere, how on earth did Merlin know where he was going?

But he obviously knew this area well, because after a minute, a clearing came into view, and a large pit covered over by wooden planks and tree trunks was revealed.

Arthur looked down at the ground, and saw the evidence of the trampling of many feet, the tracks were only a few hours old.

Merlin bolted towards the pit, and began attempt to remove the heavy planks of wood covering it. Judging by the pale stumps, these trees had only been cut down recently, their trunks slung over the pit, too heavy for anyone trapped inside to push away.

Arthur, Merlin and Morgana together dragged the heavy trunks away from the pit, sweat rolling off of them. Merlin worked frantically, his fingers scrabbling away at the wood, splinter after splinter embedding itself into his hands.

Finally, the blackness from within the pit was visible, and Arthur could just make out the remains of a ladder which had been smashed a couple of rungs down.

Once a large enough hole had been made, Merlin crouched down and peered through.

"Mother? Mother, are you there?"

A sudden intake of breath was heard down in the pit.

"Merlin? Is that you?"

Merlin laughed out loud in relief, and grinned at Arthur and Morgana. They both grinned back, an enormous weight had been lifted from them all.

Merlin conjured up a small globe of light and lowered it into the pit.

"Don't worry, we'll get you all out."

It was then that Arthur looked up at the sky, which was slowly being tinged with pink and orange. Sun rise was here. Camelot was being attacked.

Byrne stood at the head of the armies. Just half a mile away stood the proud walls of Camelot. But not for much longer, soon, that once great city will be in ruins.

A sudden wind took his attention. He turned and saw a man land sprawled on the ground in front of him.

The man looked up. It was Fylgan.

"What are you doing here? You are supposed to be in Ealdor with the hostages!"

Fylgan looked relieved to see him.

"My lord,my lord...Emrys and the Druids arrived. They fought us. They wiped us out. Arthur Pendragon fought with them. We stood no chance."

He clutched at the foot of Byrne's robes, before he pulled them back in disgust.

"You failed me. You let them win."

Fylgan's eyes widened in fear.

"No, please...my lord..."

Byrne raised his hand.

"Acwellan!"

Fylgan crumpled.

Cendred came up behind him, casting no more than a throwaway glance at the dead man.

"I thought you said you needed as many sorcerers as you could get?"

Byrne scowled.

"I have no use for snivelling cowards like him."

Cendred nodded, lazily.

"Someone get rid of this," he gestured towards the limp form.

Byrne and Cendred turned back to face the walls of Camelot.

"How, pray tell, are we supposed to breach those walls without siege machines?" Cendred asked in annoyance.

Byrne's rage simmered below the surface. Megalomaniac fool. But still, he mustn't lose his temper with him yet, he's still needed.

"All in due time, my lord. Leave that to us."

Cendred glanced imperiously at him.

"Just make sure you don't fail me again. I too have no patience for those who do not deliver."

Byrne only just managed to keep his anger in check. How dare he speak to him as though he owned him, he was weak in comparison, deluded as to his own importance. He would be dealt with after his usefulness had expired.

Cendred continued.

"You had promised me that Emrys would join us, that the Pendragon boy would be isolated from him. They have joined forces and are on their way. I have read the prophecies, an alliance with Arthur and Emrys is daunting."

"But, my lord. Both Arthur and Emrys are hundreds of miles away, they cannot reach here in time. Emrys' magic is erratic at best for present, and Arthur is just a mere mortal boy with no magic. They will not be difficult to defeat."

"You also said it would not be difficult to persuade Emrys to join us, and then you said it would not be difficult to kill him. You have failed in both. This boy seems to be slipping through your net. It will not happen again."

Byrne's nostrils flared.

"No, my lord."

Cendred regarded Camelot for a moment.

"The time is now. Begin the attack."

A/N: Think I'm gonna give the cliffy's a rest for a while! :D I know how you guys hate them lol. Except for one big one I've got planned for later on...hehe...:D

Anyways, I'd love it if a couple of you could possibly spare some time to leave a more detailed review, I've been reading my story again from the start to refresh my memory and I've realised I have a LOT to improve on. I'd love you so much if you did! I won't have a cliffy for another couple of chapters if you do! :D:D

Anyways, thanks all of you who've stuck with this story!