"Don't stray too far," Leon cautioned Mordred as they picked their way through the darkness. "If Morgana does come, we're going to need all our combined strength to fight her."
Mordred had his doubts that even together six of them could fight Morgana. Thinking that she might come to Camelot to meet with Albin, Arthur had sent his best knights out in two companies to search the woods around the town. Mordred had been assigned to Leon's group, along with Elyan, Kahedin, Ranulf and Loholt. Percival and Gwaine were leading the other group, with Sagramor, Raynelle, Bors and Erec.
Mordred found himself wondering what he should do if they did encounter Morgana. He was certain that might alone would not be enough to defeat her, but would he be able to use magic in the darkness without his comrades noticing? Really, the best thing to do would be to try to encounter her one-on-one. Not that he thought he had much chance against such a sorceress—his own magic, though strong, was no match for hers—but because even he had a better chance than the knights.
"Quiet," Loholt said, holding up a hand, and the knights all stopped and held their breath. "Did you hear that?" he whispered.
Mordred turned his head and saw a flash of golden light. "LOOK OUT!" he yelled, ducking, and heard the sound of the knights being thrown backward. The shadowy figure ran, and Mordred ran after her. Finally, as she reached a small gap in the trees, she stopped and turned to face him. Morgana's fair skin shone white in the moonlight. She was more beautiful even than the last time he had seen her—but Mordred knew that beauty was only skin deep. Her inner beauty, the beauty of heart that had caused her to risk her own life to protect him when they had first met in Camelot: that beauty was all but gone.
Morgana was smiling at him in the moonlight. "Why don't you kill me?" Mordred asked.
"My argument's not with you, Mordred. How could it be? We're of a kind."
Mordred involuntarily moved back a step in disgust. "Never."
"You wear the uniform well, but we both know what lies beneath. Do you think Arthur would tolerate you for one minute if he knew the truth?" she asked angrily, her voice full of bitterness. "One of his knights, a sorcerer!"
"One day he will know," Mordred answered. "One day we will be accepted."
"Your naïveté would be charming if it wasn't so dangerous," Morgana answered, and Mordred thought he heard a tremor of fear in her voice. "Where's Emrys?"
"Emrys?"
"You pretend you do not know of whom I speak?" Morgana said, exasperated. "I know that he is protecting Arthur. I know that he is spoiling my plans."
"It is a name I've only heard of," Mordred answered guardedly.
"He's not here? In Camelot?" She was definitely afraid.
"If he were, would we both not feel the presence of such a great sorcerer?"
Morgana stared at him uncertainly for a moment, then seemed to make up her mind. "Then I have no further use for you," she said, and raised her hand.
"You would strike one of your own?" Mordred asked. Morgana hesitated. "I am not strong enough to defeat you, Morgana, but know this. Such hatred as yours can never triumph. Once you protected me from Uther: not because I had magic, but because I was innocent. Now, in your attempt to revenge, not all magic users, but merely yourself against Uther and his son, your attempt to wrest some power for yourself, you kill the innocent. How many children died the hands of the Southrons? How many townspeople of Camelot did you execute merely because they were loyal to the king who protected them?" She had lowered her hand as he spoke, and he thought in the fitful light that he saw her eyes fill with tears. "I hope one day you will find the love and compassion which used to fill your heart," he said—and he meant it. She looked at him in confusion and grief—and he raised his hand and threw her backward through the air. She landed, unconscious, on the ground.
It was his chance. If Sir Leon had her in such a position, he would capture her and take her to Arthur—or kill her where she lay. But there was some good in her yet, somewhere. To show her mercy, to give her another chance when she didn't deserve it: that was an act of love, of the love that he wanted her to find once more. Maybe what she needed was someone else to show it to her. He turned and walked away.
AN: So, I realized a couple of chapters ago that I left out a scene I had really wanted to write. It doesn't make a huge difference if it's not there, but I really wanted to put it in. So I've gone back and added it. It's the last scene in chapter 27, if you want to pop back and take a look.