Author's Note: This story takes place during the year between seasons 3 and 4. Features Merlin and Arthur, and Gwaine, Lancelot and Percival.

Hurt and Comfort in Camelot

PenPatronus

Undercover

Part 1

In a shallow valley two leagues north of the White Mountains, a wooden cart stopped beside a pair of crisscrossing streams. Five men in black and brown clothes with torn boots and muddy hair sat tied up and caged in the back. The two up front, Elyan and Leon, climbed down when another party emerged from the woods. Six horses pulled four large men and a caged cart empty except for a slim young boy apparently asleep in the back. It was later in the morning, not quite noon. Autumn would blend with winter in less than a week.

Behind Leon, Gwaine watched the newcomers through iron bars. "This is a terrible idea," he said.

"This was your idea," said Merlin beside him.

"I have terrible ideas."

"Shut up," Arthur hissed from the opposite corner of the carriage. "And, Percival, we're supposed to be tired, overworked slaves. Try to look… frailer."

Percival shared a look with Lancelot. "That would be like asking Merlin to look stronger, my Lord," Lancelot joked with a straight face.

"Or Gwaine to be quiet," said Percival.

"Or Leon to be short," said Merlin.

"Or Elyan to be handsome," Leon whispered from outside the bars, his voice only carrying so far.

Elyan ignored the jab. "Are you sure about this, Arthur?" he asked as the four slave traders approached carrying swords and chains. "There's no guarantee you'll be able to escape."

"Too many of my people have been abducted by these slave traders for me to ignore such a threat," Arthur said in his gravest voice. "The best way to stop them is to find their headquarters. Elyan, Leon, we'll meet you back here in three days. If we don't show up, rally the other knights and come after us."

"Last chance to check your clothes, boys," said Gwaine. "No 'Camelot red' today."

Merlin glanced back at the king and looked him up and down. "Arthur, your ring."

Arthur held up his right forefinger. "Plain silver. No markings. I'd feel naked without it."

"Here they come," said Lancelot. The knights inside the carriage ducked their faces while the ones outside stuck out their chests and tried to look as un-noble as possible.

The transaction was seamless. Leon and Elyan acted their roles perfectly. The slave traders paid thirty gold coins for Percival, twenty for Lancelot, Gwaine and Arthur, and five for Merlin. Merlin had no doubt that when the others got the chance, they'd tease him mercilessly. The traders searched the men, shoved them into their wagon beside the sleeping boy and chained their wrists behind them. And then – before they climbed into their seats – they gave each man a drink of water. Elyan and Leon turned their carriage around and headed back the way they came.

"Rather polite for criminals, don't you think?" Merlin whispered after he drank. Gwaine shrugged, then yawned.

Arthur spoke when the squeaking wooden wheels blocked his voice from the slave traders. "Everyone pay close attention to where we're going. Memorize every landmark. After we escape and return with reinforcements we'll have to remember exactly where to go."

"They didn't find my knife when they frisked me," said Percival.

"Didn't even bother with my pockets," said Merlin. He shared a knowing look with Arthur, who heaved a sigh of relief. Suddenly, Gwaine slumped over. Merlin poked him with his toe and the knight began to snore. "The water!" Merlin gasped.

"He drank it first," Arthur realized. "And then—"

Percival went next, and then Lancelot fell asleep.

"It was poisoned," Merlin said. He pulled uselessly against his bonds. "If we fall asleep we won't know where they're taking… taking…"

They fell like dominoes: Arthur onto Merlin's knee, Merlin onto Gwaine's. Unconscious, all of them.

The boy in the corner opened his eyes, tossed off his chains and grinned.

Arthur woke up in a narrow, dimly lit stone room hanging from the ceiling by his wrists. The drugs in his body lingered and it took him several minutes to remember what happened. He looked around for Merlin but neither his servant nor his knights were there. A slave trader stood up from a wooden chair, walked up to Arthur and punched him so hard in the stomach that he nearly folded in half.

"Who are you?" the man demanded. The combination of his bad breath and furious body odor woke Arthur up like a smelling salt. His raven hair was so dark it looked almost purple.

Arthur struggled to remember his cover story. "I was taken from my home in Ealdor. I overheard the kidnappers talking about selling me to work in a silver mine."

The slave trader grinned with his three teeth. "If you won't tell me who you really are I'll have to ask your friends."

Arthur instinctively tugged on the chains around his wrists. "What friends? The men in the same wagon? I never met them before today."

Another punch in the stomach. While Arthur struggled to catch his breath, the trader ripped his silver ring off his finger, taking a layer or two of skin with it. He held it up to Arthur's nose and said, "So if I show this to those men, and tell them I beheaded you, they won't give a damn?"

Arthur's nostrils flared but he said nothing.

"Very well." The man grinned and left the room.

To Be Continued

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