Chapter 19 – Revelations of the knight

Beta: I'm not entirely sure I have one … But this chapter was rewritten at least trice so … Sorry for any mistakes

Words: 3945

I don't own Merlin

The middle-aged man reached out with his knife to peal another piece of meat off from the rabbit, which had been roasting over the fire. Miley chewed his own food slowly as he watched the other man.

Balinor was not how he had imagined him. His hair might have been the same colour as Merlin's, yet this was where the similarity ended. The man was stockier built than his son, his nose was pointed slightly down like a crow's beak and the long unkempt hair and beard made him look even wilder.

The dragonlord raised his head once and glared at him, before turning back to a small piece of wood that he had been carving since they first started eating. He had yet to say a word to the knight, and had made it more than obvious that he wanted Miley gone as quickly as possible.

When the dragonlord had found him with Péleia, they had had a long discussion in a language that the knight could only guess to be dragon, before the older man had finally muttered something about Miley only bringing trouble and then proceeded to guide him towards the cave where they were currently sitting. The dragoness lay curled up behind them, the snout pointing towards the entrance of the cave and though her eyes were close, Miley were sure she wasn't sleeping. She reminded him of a very large guard dog; one of those who would bite you in the throat if you stepped into the wrong house.

Miley turned back to the fire and stared into the flames. He was sure the dragonlord was ready to ignore him until he left; or at least until the morning when the storm had hopefully passed and he could throw him out again. Miley didn't fancy getting thrown out, and he didn't have the time to wait until morning either way. They would have to leave before down, so Miley could be back with Merlin and the Prince's party at late afternoon. He didn't like leaving them with men who sold other human beings for a living, but it was a direct order from the King and right at that moment it was more important than ever to not lose the King's trust.

He cleared his throat, making the dragon look up again, his mouth curved downwards and Miley could see that the man was gritting his teeth.

"What's the matter, boy?" The dragonlord asked with a sneer.

Miley frowned. It was nearly a decade since he would have described himself like even remotely a boy; not after his uncle had knighted him when he came of age and had officially been named heir of his father's lands; and not at all since the King called for his vassals to send their share of men for the upcoming war. And this had been nearly five years ago.

He cleared his throat again in discomfort. The knight could count on one hand the times he had asked for this since his mother died and he became the ward and squire of his father's older brother, lord Brent, who owned the estate right beside theirs. Miley's father had divided his land, so each of his sons could have a part of his inheritance. In the hope that this would let them be allies instead of fighting each other like Miley's father's own father had done with his brother. In some way it had worked; the brother's had never held anything against each other, even if Brent's land had been the largest, though this hadn't kept their life from being filled with blood.

Miley swallowed once and said, "I need your help."

The dragonlord gave a harsh bark of laugher. His eyes wandered toward the dragoness before flickering back to the knight.

"I have heard that one before," Balinor said his dark eyes pinned Miley to the place, and it was only then that Miley really felt the age gap. He had become used to keeping an eye on Merlin and had tried to stir the young warlock in the right direction. Now he was thrown back to when he was a squire and was the one in need of guidance. For the love of the goddess, this man really was a spitting image of Brent even if Balinor didn't resemble the man much in appearance.

With a strong grip on the knife, so even Miley could see as the man's knuckles turned white, the man forced the rest of the sentence out; probably as caught up in his past as Miley had been. "It didn't end well."

"I know," Miley answered, "but I'm not anything like Uther." He really tried not to sneer right back at the man at the comparison. The man had good reason for his anger, yet this didn't soothe the sting that the words had inflicted on Miley. Becoming someone as caught up in guilt and anger as Uther was, had been a fear that had filled the knight when he had been younger, and had hated the King of Camelot with all his being for his role in his father's death. He still blamed the man, but after his stay at his uncle's estate, the anger no longer filled him and threatened to consume his whole existence.

"Maybe. Yet, you have done nothing to let me trust you. You have given me no name, no reason for this intrusion in our peaceful lives. The only reason you're not out there." The dragonlord nodded towards the snowstorm raging on the other side of the entrance to the cave, "Is that Péleia seems to like you." Because she didn't burn you to a crisp as soon as you met, was left unsaid.

Miley's anger spiked again. As if the man had given him the chance to tell him all this before with all his hostile glances when he hadn't outright ignored the knight. Miley took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down again; he couldn't let the man get to him, had needed a clear head for this conversation.

"My name is Sir Miley, son of Millard and lord of Athelstan and I have come to ask for your help Balinor, because if you won't, not only will Essetir and Camelot will be torn apart, it will also destroy the promise of Albion ever being born."

Balinor stared at him, his face had become pale and his gaze had lost its heat. The man opened the mouth then closed it, only to try again. "That's cannot be true," he whispered. The only reason that Miley heard him was the fact that other than the slight howling of the wind and the crackle of the flames were the only sounds besides their own breathing. "You can't be," Balinor said. His voice a little stronger in his disbelief. "They all died."

Miley shook his head. "No." His own voice was no louder than the dragonlord's had been. "We didn't. Not all of us at least. Even today, Brent walks to the city gates and keeps an eye on the horizon. He is still waiting for you to come home."

Balinor mouthed the name of Miley's uncle, his eyes shining with moisture.

Miley swallowed again, before he confirmed the man's dawning realization. "He is still waiting for his little brother to come home."

Balinor hid his head in his hands and Miley had to look away. The man, who was his long lost uncle, was breaking down at the news of his family being alive after having believed them to have been killed in the Purge for more than two decades. And this wasn't even half of the story.

Much to Arthur's regret they didn't have the time to think of a better plan before attempting an escape, as the storm had calmed down and dawn was quickly approaching; if they wanted to be able to have the cover of darkness they needed to hurry.

They had slipped out of their shackles and Gwaine was now working on the door while Arthur kept an eye on the guard. Most of the other slavers were asleep at the moment, yet each cage had their own watch, and added to the one guarding the entrance they would have to move very carefully.

The final lock clicked open, Gwaine caught it before it could hit the ground and alert the guards, and all of them froze for a moment while they all discretely looked around to see if they had been discovered. None of the guards moved, and Arthur breathed a sigh of relive.

Gwaine looked back over his shoulder and Arthur nodded that he was ready. Merlin and Percival both slowly rose to their knees and then shifted their balance back on their heels, so they could be ready to jump out as soon as the door was opened.

Their guard was right in time to see Merlin slip out of the cage, his eyes widened for a second, then they rolled back as Percival hit him in the head. They dragged him into their former cage and closed the door. Arthur regretted not having the key so they could lock it too, but he remembered the leader taking them with him. They wouldn't have had the time either way; the other guards were looking away for the moment, but they were all in the open. They would be lucky to have more than a few seconds before they were discovered.

He had barely thought the last sentence before someone shouted,"Oi!" and all hell broke out. The slavers were sadly quicker to wake up than the time it took for their small group to reach reinforcement.

Gwaine and Merlin were both in front of Arthur and were only a few steps from the cage, as the prince turned around to engage their pursuers.

The first slaver rushed towards them, sword swinging wildly as the slightly drunk man aimed at them. He was knocked down with one well-aimed blow from Percival, and the slave snatched the dropped sword, just as their other attackers arrived at the scene.

The group of slavers took a step back and made a half-circle around them; blocking every possible escape. Arthur had just pondered over why they weren't all rushing at them at once, when he saw movement behind the wall of slavers.

A lock clicked open behind him, however Arthur couldn't be the slightest bit relived when his newly released knights joined him at his back, as three slavers stepped through the rank of their comrades all of them pointing crossbows at him.

Now, not only fairly outnumbered and cornered, but also in danger of getting shot the moment they moved, Arthur grit his teeth in frustration. Why had he ever thought their desperate plan would work?

They really needed a lot of luck if they wanted to get out alive, and this whole incident had just proved that luck was never on their side.

Convincing Balinor that he had a son turned out to be only slightly easier than telling him about his surviving family.

They had first spent another hour talking about their shared family back in Athelstan. Miley told him about his time as a squire and how he was taught the ways of the dragonlords; about their history and society, rites and rituals and how he had been ready to do the last trial to become a dragonlord when the King's letter had arrived. Balinor told about his own childhood with his brothers, how Millard and Brent tried to play tricks on the castle steward and then gave their younger brother the blame when they were caught.

None of them talked about their experiences in Camelot; nevertheless, somehow the talk still came back to the current situation.

"You said something about Albion never being born if Camelot was destroyed, what did you mean?" Balinor had returned to carving the small piece of wood. Miley could just make out some rough wings and a long neck and tail. The older man wore a small smile now and his eyes were warm, if a little moist, as they looked upon the knight.

"The Great Dragon is currently raining fire over the city, and King Cenred is standing at the border ready to invade the kingdom. If you do not order Kilgharrah to back down, both kingdoms will be destroyed."

"Uther slaughtered Kilgharrah's kin. Our kin. I think Kilgharrah is more than entitled to take his revenge. I fail to see how this has anything to do with uniting Albion?"

Miley thought back on Merlin's horrified face when the boy had heard about the war and the death it would bring for the first time; if not in the war itself then with the famine and plagues which usually followed such largescale destruction. Then he thought back on what kind of death and destruction had happened during the Purge and decided not to mention it.

"Uther's son is the Once and Future King. If he dies so will Albion."

Balinor chuckled for a while at those words until he caught up on Miley's serious expression, then he narrowed his eyes. "That's nonsense; as if Uther's brat could ever be the king of the prophecy! Who told you such drivel?"

Miley raised both his brows and the corner of his mouth turned upwards. It had come as a shock for him too, but it had seemed so obvious afterwards; the boy's power, that Eadric was holding back and that the assassin wanted the prince alive. "Péleia told me when we met."

"Impossible."

"She called Merlin Emrys; it wasn't hard to figure out the rest after that." The knight knew exactly what the next question would be, yet he could not bring himself to just blurt out the truth; not at all after the man had just gotten over the lie about his family that he had believed for so long.

"Who's Merlin?"

Miley did not answer for a long time. He could ease the man into it. Tell him about the King and Eadric finding the bracelets that had been believed lost and trying them out on Merlin. Miley didn't fancy explaining about abducting the boy and later his mother. He really didn't want to get into explaining everything what had happened in Camelot either.

In the end he just told him the short version. "Merlin is the apprentice of Camelot's court physician and …"

"Gaius's still alive?" Balinor asked. Miley nodded. "He's a good man." The dragonlord stared blankly into the fire for a moment; probably reliving the night he escaped from the castle all over again.

"Merlin's your son."

Balinor looked up in shock, which quickly turned into anger.

"I don't have a son."

Miley just gave him a sad look and waited for him to figure it out.

For a minuet Miley thought that Balinor would go for denial again. Then the dragonlord's features changed into first one of contemplation, then to one of resignation and understanding.

"Hunith?" The question was whispered in a tone that made Miley uncertain whether Balinor really wished for confirmation or feared it.

Miley nodded. He waited until the other man no longer looked in danger of keeling over, before continuing with a short version of the assassin's plans. He skirted over his actual involvement and Merlin's injury. He didn't think Balinor even noticed. The man just soaked up all the new information about Merlin that he could get. Maybe it would hit the man harder once he had had the time to think it all through. Miley hoped to be long gone before that.

"I want to see him." Balinor's eyes bore into his. It hadn't been a request. "I want to meet my son."

"After what I just told you-"

"I don't care. He shouldn't have been in Camelot in the first place. He can stay here, or I could take both him and Hunith with me and travel to somewhere else, Caerleon or Mercia maybe."

Balinor stood up and walked to the entrance to stare out at the snow as if he thought he could catch a glimpse of his son through the white forest.

Miley continued to try and reason with the man. If it had been his own son that had been the one in danger … He didn't know what he would have done. "You know that isn't possible. He is still wearing the bracelets; Eadric will find him in no time no matter how far you run, and when he does he will kill you."

"I'll fight him. I won't' let him take my son again."

"You'll fight him and you will lose, and where will Merlin be then. Where'll Hunith be? Sometime in the near future the war will end one way or the other and they'll need a safe place to stay."

Balinor shook his head, but Miley could see there was no longer any fight behind the gesture. It was just denial for what was inevitable to happen. The man used his hand to comb his hair back from his brow.

"Alright." The man took a deep breath and turned back to the knight. "Alright. I'll call Kilgharrah and order him to cease his attack, but you need to swear to me that you'll keep them both safe until they can get here."

The man waited until Miley had nodded, then he sighed.

"It's time I took on my part of the responsibilinty for my son."

Merlin really wished he had waited for Miley to come back with his men. When Arthur had looked at him with the question in his eyes, Merlin had already decided to help in their escape. Miley had only briefly crossed his mind, then he had happily let Arthur open pick the lock of his handcuffs. Less than five minutes after they stepped out of their cage and he already regretted that decision.

He and Gwaine sprinted towards the nearest cage while they could hear how something landed with a thud behind him. Merlin hoped it wasn't Arthur and that it didn't mean they would be run through just yet. He didn't dare to look over his shoulder, and instead focused on Gwaine's remarkable steady hands as he tried to pick the lock.

It seemed like an eternity before it finally fell away and Gwaine could jump into the cage and free them from their shackles too; luckily, these didn't take half as long as the lock and the knights soon jumped out to join the fight.

It was only then they released that the fight had already ended.

The slavers had surrounded their group, grinning at them with too many teeth showing and dark eyes burning with anger. Merlin grimaced in fear, and let his eyes dart around to find a possible escape, even when he already knew there wouldn't be one. He began to doubt that the slavers would keep their word to Miley after their little trip across the cave. Where were those men the knight mentioned having stationed within this lovely troupe?

Arthur wore the same determined expression as he had back in the cage, as he refused to look intimidated at the crossbow bolts pointed at his chests. Merlin envied him on that point; he would like to say that he could face certain death without care like the prince, even if this carelessness was a lie.

Jarl finally arrived at the scene and pushed his way through his men. His expression was no longer that of dark amusement, everything about his stance suggested that it took everything of the man not to jump right in and rip someone's throat out.

He cast another glance around on his companions. Though they all tried to hide it, they were clearly nervous; none of them knew what to do.

Merlin felt his magic stir as his heartbeat speed up further, and he had to force it down, so it wouldn't end up blasting everyone off their feet. He needed a plan. Now. And one that hopefully didn't kill them. Using magic was always a possibility, but one he tried to avoid; they stood too close to each other, one of the knights or even Arthur could turn their head just slightly and see, and with Jarl already knowing about his power he didn't even have the moment of surprise, had he?

Merlin frowned. Miley hadn't actually said that he had told Jarl about his magic. There was no real reason for the slave trader to know, so maybe Miley hadn't told him that particular fact. It would actually have made the risk of discovery bigger. But was he ready to act on speculations, and hope he was lucky enough to succeed? He didn't appear to have any choice in the end, not when he didn't know when the rest of Miley's men would arrive; they could be dead a hundred times over before then.

"And they say royalty are supposed to be smart," Jarl said with a snarl. A few of the slavers chuckled on Arthur's behalf, yet the prince didn't rise to the bait. "I'm beginning to doubt that you're really worth the trouble." Jarl tilted his head to one side like a dog as he studied the group before him. Arthur stayed silent.

"Did we even catch the right person? Maybe we should cut him up to check if his blood is really blue?" He asked his men with a raised brow. The slavers cheered and Jarl's smirk grew.

He looked back at Arthur. "My men seem to agree." He drew his sword. "Any last words?"

"Sir?" One of the slavers in the back stepped closer to Jarl. He wore a frown and looked strangely uncomfortable with the situation. The difference between him and the other slavers were subtle; his clothes were the same brown leather as theirs, only newer. He held a sword in his hand like most of the slavers, yet even from were Merlin was standing, he could see that the edges was made of steel instead of pure iron; a rare thing even among the wealthier soldiers. Even if it was stolen, it was unlikely for a mere slaver to possess such a valuable weapon. He had to be one of Miley's men, maybe even a knight himself.*

Merlin didn't pay any heed to what the man said after that, as he used the distraction to his advantage instead. He reached out towards some of the bedrolls, which still lay in a circle around the fire, and willed them to burn. A flash of gold later and big flames were devouring the blankets. Grey smoke curled up towards the roof of the cave, where it gathered while it searched for a way to escape its confinement.

It didn't take long for the smell of smoke to reach the group.

"Fire!"

Merlin couldn't see who had shouted, but in the next moment everyone turned towards the fireplace and what was left of the camp. Merlin was glad that no one paid any attention to him anymore, as he wasn't sure how believable his surprised expression was, when all he could feel was relief as the knights and the prince took advantage of the panic and escaped the quickly dissolving circle.

Jarl was shouting for order, yet by the time he had finally gotten the situation back under control, Gwaine had already freed the knights and slaves in the last cage and they all ran out of the cave and disappeared into the forest.

Above them, the first sunrays stretched across the sky as a new day arrived.

*Swords in the middle ages were made of hard iron with steel edges not only of pure steel, because the material was too hard to make. I don't know if this applied to all swords, because I know they also made swords out of bronze and probably also from pure iron (this changes with what century you look at). That swords with steel edges were more valuable than the other types is just my guess; but I do know that to own real armour and a sword, you had to have a good amount of money.

Names:

Brent: Burnt; steep

Millard: Guardian of the mill

Athelstan: Noble stone

I'll just stop trying to say when I'll update next. Just know that I'm not abandoningeither of my stories.