Merlin fretted through the rest of the afternoon. Sorcerers that came this close to Camelot usually harbored bad intentions. Nimueh had saved his life, but the first time he became aware of her she had attempted to poison the royal family. Merlin glanced around his room as evening approached, scanning the gifts given him. Everyone had been so kind, and he'd die before he let any harm come to them.

Merlin rose from his bed, brow furrowing in determination. He strapped on the sword Arthur had given him. He had studied enough magic, and he had adequate skill with the sword. He'd find this sorcerer and shadow him, scout out what he was up to. He threw on a thicker shirt and his heavy coat. No snow had fallen of late, but the forest would still be bitterly cold. "Nero," he commanded. The bird flew to his shoulder, then he bounded down the steps and passed through the main room.

Gaius had been called away earlier to attend someone with a sickness. Still, Merlin could hear his voice: "You're going to confront a sorcerer on your own? Merlin, don't be foolish. Take someone with you." "There's no one to tell," Merlin argued back. Gaius was out, and Lancelot had been sent by Arthur to deal with a disturbance in the lower town. Besides, he could do this on his own. He was Emrys. Time to start acting like it.

Merlin zipped down the spiral staircase and made his way to the stables. Nero took off, but Merlin knew he'd return when he had something to report. Lebryt nickered at Merlin's approach. Merlin rubbed between his horse's eyes. "We've got a job to do. You don't have to be afraid. I'll protect you."

"From what?"

Merlin jumped and whirled around to see Arthur standing in the stable doorway. "Eh...Arthur. Hey."

"What are you doing out here this late?"

Merlin glanced over the prince's shoulder at the glowing orange light tinted with red, the sun near setting. "Going to take a ride."

"In the dark?"

"I just... I thought..."

Arthur sauntered over to him, lifting his scabbard. "I know you're older now."

"Y-eah," Merlin said slowly.

"You only had to ask."

"Erm...Well..."

"You thought I'd refuse."

"I guess, yeah, I did." Merlin stared, completely unsure what in the world Arthur meant.

"If you want to join the night patrol, I'll let you."

"You're going on night patrol?" Merlin asked incredulously, but noted Arthur wore his armor and chain mail. With a sorcerer out there! You could get killed!

"Stop pretending you didn't know. I already said you can come, but you need to stick to the knights. No wandering off on your own and no heroics. If there's any sign of trouble, you get out of there."

"I will," Merlin promised with no intention of carrying through. He really wanted to ride by himself, but now that he knew Arthur was going out, he couldn't leave his side. If Arthur was the sorcerer's target, he'd be needed.

Arthur mounted his horse and glanced at his servant boy nearer the back of the knights. Night patrols were uncommon, but several reports of bandits had come in and Arthur had taken the initiative. This particular group of ruffians seemed to use the cover of darkness to advance their camp. Arthur planned to locate their camp, then attack at the crack of dawn.

Arthur moved anxiously forwards. He shouldn't have let Merlin come on such a dangerous mission. He'd commanded Leon to watch out for him, but still, Merlin was only fourteen, and although he was doing well in weapons training, he wasn't on par with a knight. Arthur had consented only because he understood wanting to be part of the action. He was probably about Merlin's age when he begged his father to let him go on his first patrol. Uther had chosen a tame one. Arthur had been disappointed his father didn't trust him. Now as he worried over gangly little Merlin riding along with them, he thought it more likely his father feared for his safety. Well, Merlin wouldn't be participating in the attack anyway. He'd get his taste for action by observing from the edge of it.

As they navigated a preplanned route by torch and moonlight, Arthur's mind drifted back to Merlin's first hunting trip. The naive boy had tried to rescue him from a charging boar and almost been killed. Arthur cringed as he recalled meaning to thrash the boy for his transgression. Thank the heavens Leon and Lancelot had spoken sense to him. If they hadn't, his relationship with Merlin could have been far different, the boy terrified of him. After all, he hadn't had the guts to inquire about going on patrol even when he had nothing to fear.

Arthur glanced back once more. He couldn't see the dark hair, but assured himself Merlin was in good hands. No heroics, he'd said. No trying to save me, he'd specifically meant. Merlin had demonstrated a complete lack of care for his own preservation where Arthur was concerned, and although it endeared him to the boy, Arthur thought it entirely backwards. Merlin was his servant, under his charge and care. The boy's duties didn't include dying for him. He'd have to make sure Merlin understood that before they attacked the bandits, threaten some penalty if the boy dared show his face during their strike.

Merlin kept his gaze on Arthur, except when he sent his sight out to search the forest. He tried to control the thumping fear of his heart. If the sorcerer attacked, he'd have to use his magic, and probably openly.

"Arthur won't let anyone hurt you."

Merlin looked over at Leon riding next to him.

"Your first real patrol," Leon went on. "It can make any man nervous."

It dawned on Merlin that Leon must have sensed his fear and was trying to comfort him. "I'm fine," he assured. Leon's kindly expression was shadowed in torchlight, but Merlin caught the disbelief in his eyes even so.

No, it wasn't really fine. Not just the possibility of a sorcerer out here, but the idea that Arthur wouldn't let any harm come to him. Arthur would try to protect him from any threat, even a sorcerer, but could he protect him from years of believing sorcery evil? If he ever once caught Merlin doing magic, where would that protection go? Lancelot had once said he didn't think Arthur would kill him, and Merlin didn't think that either. But if he performed magic here, in front of the knights, Arthur would have no choice but to arrest him and then what? Exile? Merlin couldn't bear that anymore than death on a chopping block.

Time felt like it crawled by, the knights keeping speaking to a minimum, Arthur's tense posture never once letting up as Merlin stared at his back. A flapping interrupted the quiet, Nero landing on Lebryt's neck. The horse shook its head, but didn't otherwise react, used to the kestrel's presence after all these months.

"Your pet," Leon commented, his tone smiling.

Merlin knew all the knights found the kestrel's love of him humorous, especially after it had been owned by the man that tried to torture him to death, or so they thought.

Merlin took a breath and held out his palm. The kestrel nestled into it. Merlin saw the sorcerer again, swathed in a cloak, a fire lit before him. He stood, angrily gesturing at the kestrel. The vision faded. Merlin stared down at Nero. Does he know? Why else would he keep shooing the bird away?

Merlin sent his sight out once more. If Nero had shown him this, maybe they were close. He caught sight of the sorcerer in a moment, not too far away. Unfortunately, so did Arthur.

"Halt!" the prince called in a raspy voice. He pointed and gestured, and Merlin saw a flickering light in the distance, the telltale mark of a fire.

Arthur dismounted, everyone else following suit and gathering around him. "Tor, Baudwin, you're with me. Remember. We're just taking a look, then back." The knights nodded, following the prince into the woods, as the rest extinguished torches in wait.

Merlin stared frantically after Arthur. Leon laid a hand on his shoulder. "He'll be fine. He's just scouting it out."

Merlin sent his sight out to Arthur, creeping through the brush, then farther ahead. The sorcerer was standing and alert, peering into the woods. Merlin didn't even think about it; he dashed away into the forest, drawing his sword as he went. Leon cursed behind him.

Merlin ran as fast his long legs allowed. He slowed time to avoid obstacles as he had when he first met Arthur. He dodged branches, jumped over roots, and in no time at all had passed Arthur and the two knights.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, giving up any pretense of secrecy.

Merlin paid no heed, rushing ahead and stumbling into the sorcerer's camp. He almost fell over as he came to a halt.

The hooded man, now brandishing a sword, tilted his head in confusion. "What are you..." He hushed, staring intently, his bushy eyebrows drawn together, as if he were trying to piece something together.

"You won't hurt Prince Arthur," Merlin declared.

The man narrowed his eyes. Crashing footfalls sounded behind Merlin and a hand grasped his arm, yanking him backwards. Arthur threw him at Leon, who took the boy by the shoulders and resisted the urge to cuff him on the back of the head.

Arthur's eyes skimmed the camp, then fixed on the man holding a sword. He kept his own drawn, but at his side. "Who are you?"

"I assume," the man ran an eye up and down his armor, "you are Prince Arthur of Camelot."

Merlin groaned in Leon's arms. How stupid. He'd completely given that fact away.

"I am. What are you doing out here alone?"

The man sheathed his sword. "I mean no harm, sire. I am a merchant headed to the capital."

"Merchant?"

The man nodded. "Would you like to see my wares?"

Arthur examined him skeptically, but made no attempt to stop him as he reached into a bag and withdrew several carved figurines. He handed one to Arthur—a dragon. Arthur stared at it, then looked up at the man. "I've seen something like this."

"Oh?"

"I have something of its like. Have you been in the capital before?"

"Many years ago."

"Did you sell these then?"

"I don't recall."

Arthur cleared his throat, handing the figurine back to the man. "Well, you won't make much selling something so impractical."

"I can carve useful objects as well."

"We're combing the woods," Arthur explained in his most authoritarian tone. "Bandits have been spotted moving about."

"There always are," the man sighed.

"It is unwise for you to travel alone."

"As unwise as it is for you to bring a boy on an expedition to hunt bandits?" Arthur raised his eyebrows at the scathing tone. The man back peddled. "Excuse me, sire." He bowed his head. "I lost my own son long ago, but the grief is ever near."

Arthur set furious eyes on Merlin. "The boy disobeyed. He was not to approach anyone like this." Merlin felt Arthur's anger without even looking at him since his own gaze was riveted on the sorcerer, trying to gauge if he was as harmless as he made himself out to be.

"If you will come with us," Arthur offered, "two of my knights will escort you to the town once we have found the bandit camp. And this boy," Arthur didn't even glance at Merlin this time, "will go with you."

The man looked back at Merlin, then to Arthur. "Thank you, sire. You are most generous."

Merlin knew he was in for it when they made it back to the knights. Arthur saw that the man, who introduced himself as Matthew, was assigned to a couple of the knights. The moment that was taken care of, he grabbed a torch, gripped Merlin by the back of his jacket, and hauled him away from everyone, pushing his back into a tree and holding him there.

"Do my orders mean nothing to you?" he hissed.

"Arthur..."

"When I tell you to do something, it's not a suggestion!"

"I know, but..."

"It's like you want to get killed!"

"I think..."

"Merlin, just shut up and listen for once!"

Merlin snapped his mouth closed.

Arthur blew out a frustrated breath. "I should put you in the stocks, have you flogged or drawn and quartered or something!" he shouted, threatening all manner of things Merlin knew he would never do. But he did shake Merlin with the hand pinning him to the tree. "Why did you do it?"

"I had a feeling, like I did with Princess Myrine."

Arthur drew his hand back. "A feeling?"

"Something's not right with that merchant."

"How did you even know who was out there?"

Merlin swallowed. "I...didn't. But it was only one fire...at least, it didn't seem like much...I didn't think it was bandits...And, I don't know, I just, well, you were going there and..."

"I order you to stop trying to help me or save me or anything."

"Arthur..."

Arthur pulled him away from the tree and drew him close to look in his eyes. "No more. Do you understand? The next time you do, there will be a consequence and it won't be pleasant."

Merlin lowered his eyes.

Arthur sighed. "I don't want to say any of this, but you're making me. I don't know how to rein you in otherwise! And I do want you on more patrols in the future."

"Alright, Arthur," the boy spoke humbly, then raised pleading eyes. "But something's still wrong with the merchant. I know it. Just trust me. Please."

Arthur kept glancing back at the merchant they'd met. The man didn't seem like much of a threat. He was almost as skinny as Merlin, though his movements hinted at a wiry energy. He bore himself with confidence, unruffled by the formidable warriors surrounding him. Arthur thought he must be experienced in fighting, though why a wood carver would have that ability he didn't know.

Merlin also kept the merchant in his sights, maneuvering his horse to peer intently at him. If he tried anything, Merlin was ready. He wouldn't know what hit him.

They arrived at the end of the patrol's route and Arthur turned his horse. They'd discovered nothing but one solitary merchant. Apparently these bandits were as experienced and sneaky as the witnesses described. He grumbled inside and called a halt. The moon had hidden behind clouds, making too dark to accomplish much of anything. They might as well set up for the night.

Arthur moved to the merchant and the two knights with him. "I'm afraid I've forced you out of your way."

Matthew shrugged. "Nothing much has been lost."

"I'd send you back, but it's grown too dark."

"So it has."

"Will you stay with us?"

"Gladly."

Arthur met his knights' eyes and they understood he meant them to stick with the man throughout the night.

The camp was set up in no time, a fire kindled and a stew prepared from fresh meat supplied by the kitchens rumbling bellies as its aroma wafted throughout the clearing. Merlin stuck close to Arthur, occupying a log along with him and Leon. Both the prince and the servant regarded the merchant who had ambled over to the fire with his shadow knights.

"What do you think of our guest?" Arthur asked Leon.

Leon peered across at the man, chatting easily with those gathered around the fire. "Commoner by the clothing. Skilled by the wares. Lonely. Sad."

Arthur frowned. "And how do you judge those last two?"

"I've known what it is to carry pain and pretend to others there is none. It's in his eyes."

Merlin remembered the man had said he lost his son. He felt suddenly guilty for assuming the man possibly evil. He no real evidence to support his worries.

Arthur nudged Merlin with his elbow. "Still have that feeling?"

Merlin quirked his lips. "I'm not sure," he admitted.

Arthur shook his head, more inclined to think Merlin was just prone to pessimism when his life was involved, though he had been right about Myrine's token.

Soon the stew had been ladled out and handed around. Everyone ate eagerly, all but Matthew, Merlin noticed as he let Nero consume the leftovers from his bowl. The merchant sat several feet from the fire, huddled with his cloak wrapped around him, his "guards" beside him. Merlin was just thinking to maybe go up and engage him in conversation when magic rippled through his blood, a sudden warmth running along his veins. He gasped, goosebumps puckering along his arms.

He heard a thump. One of the knights had pitched over next to Matthew. Soon others joined him. Merlin whipped his head back and forth as one by one they keeled over. He turned to Arthur in alarm. Leon had already slipped off the log. Arthur was blinking and shaking his head to focus. "You," he mumbled. He stood and drew his sword, but the action was slow and labored.

Merlin followed Arthur's gaze to Matthew, now standing, his blue eyes reflecting firelight. Arthur made to charge him, but fell to his knees.

"Arthur!" Merlin called. He forced himself to stand despite the tingling magic surging like waves all over his body.

Matthew had approached, leaning over Arthur. He grasped the prince's breastplate and lifted him up, eyes boring into him. "No Pendragon will steal my son." Arthur didn't struggle. His eyes rolled back and his head lolled.

Merlin screamed, despair curling his insides. He hadn't used his magic when it really mattered. He raised his hands, anguished eyes flashing gold. Matthew tumbled away from Arthur, landing on his stomach. His hood had come loose and he shook his long, dark hair as he pushed up onto his feet. He didn't seem surprised when he faced Merlin.

"Your blood is different," the merchant commented, his voice tense, but calm.

Merlin's cheeks grew wet. "You killed them!"

"They're not dead."

"What?"

"They sleep."

"Why did you do this?"

"It's safer this way."

"Safer?"

"Your place is with me. Not here amongst them."

Merlin drew his sword, his hand trembling as he held it aloft. "Don't come near me."

"I won't hurt you."

"I've been told that before by a sorcerer. He lied."

"I'm no sorcerer."

"Nero saw you... Nero!" Merlin rushed over to the bird, lying as silent as the knights. He cupped a hand to his breast to confirm he lived.

"I can tell you who you are, Merlin." Matthew's voice had changed, soft and pleading. "Where you come from."

Merlin looked over at him. "Who are you?"

Matthew lifted his chin. "I'm your father."