The entire court watched solemnly as Arthur handed Uther a tattered piece of red cloth that bore the Pendragon crest. "It was Cenred who did this, you're certain of it?" Uther demanded.
"Yes, my lord," Arthur confirmed. "His messenger has only this minute departed Camelot. Cenred said that the patrol trespassed on his land, and…an example had to be made."
"How many dead?"
"All of them, Sire. Every last man." Many of the courtiers bowed their heads in respect.
"The knights?" Uther prompted.
"All lost," Arthur repeated. "Edric, Oldoff, Osric…and Sir Leon." Merlin felt a pang at that last name—he'd come to rather like Leon, at least compared to the other knights.
Arthur sat at his table, staring at another scrap of cloth. He didn't appear to be truly seeing it. "I've fought alongside those men. They were some of Camelot's finest. To lose them all…"
Merlin coughed. [They will be remembered.]
Arthur shook his head. "Cut down to the last man. For Cenred to overcome them…his army is growing in strength. Suppose he marches on Camelot again?"
[I think he learned his lesson,] Merlin suggested.
Arthur shook his head again. "I have a very bad feeling about this."
A guard knocked and poked his head in the door. "Sire, you're needed in the council chambers."
Leon was inside the council chambers, alive and well. Merlin walked over to join Gaius and Mordred while Arthur walked up to Leon and clasped his arm in a friendly greeting. "We thought you were dead for sure."
"Well I was dead, or as good as, until the druids found me," Leon replied. Suddenly the air filled with tension, and Merlin and Mordred shared a glance.
"Druids?" Uther repeated.
"Yes, my lord," Leon confirmed, somewhat uncomfortably. "I owe them my life."
"How did they heal you?" Uther demanded. "You said you were as good as dead."
"I-I don't know."
"Did they use magic?"
"Well, I—"
"Yes or no, it's a simple enough question!"
"I only know that I drank from some kind of cup," Leon admitted.
"Cup?" Uther asked suspiciously.
"It was extraordinary, my lord," Leon continued, somewhat uncertainly. "I have known nothing like it. From the moment it touched my lips, I could feel my life return to me."
For nearly a minute, the room was silent. Finally, Uther spoke. "Well. Your trials have left you weary, I'm sure." He turned to Arthur. "We must let him rest." With that, he left the room.
Merlin noticed that Morgana looked highly intrigued by Leon's story. That couldn't be good.
A short while later, the brothers watched Gaius examine Leon in the knight's chambers while Uther and Arthur waited in the doorway. Finally, Gaius concluded his examination and turned to Arthur. "He's exhausted, Sire, and severely dehydrated, but given time he'll make a full recovery."
Arthur smiled. "Thank you, Gaius."
Uther and Gaius left the room and stopped to talk in the corridor. Merlin and Mordred followed, standing out of the way but still in earshot. "Well?" Uther prompted.
"It's…remarkable, Sire," Gaius replied. "He bears no sign of any kind of wound. He's in perfect health."
"And the cup he spoke of?"
"From his description, I would say it was the Cup of Life," Gaius answered. Merlin and Mordred shared a wide-eyed look.
"You are aware of its power, Gaius?" Uther demanded, stepping closer and lowering his voice.
"I am indeed, Sire, but the druids are a peaceful people," Gaius reasoned. "They would only ever use the Cup for good. Sir Leon is surely proof of that."
"Be that as it may, according to Sir Leon's description, the druids' cave lies within Cenred's kingdom," Uther retorted. "It is imperative that we get to the Cup before he does."
"My lord, the druids are secretive by nature, they will have the Cup well-hidden," Gaius urged. "Might it not be wise to leave it where it is?"
"I'm not prepared to take that risk," Uther snapped. He stormed down the hallway.
Gaius and the brothers returned to their chambers. "I thought the Cup was destroyed with Nimueh when I defeated her on the Isle of the Blessed," Mordred commented.
Gaius shook his head. "The Cup cannot be destroyed. Its magic is eternal, unbound by time or place."
"But why does Uther fear it so much?" Mordred demanded.
"Because the Cup can be used for evil as well as good," Gaius explained. "Many centuries ago, it fell into the possession of a great warlord. One night, he gathered his army before him. He took a drop of blood from each and every man and collected it in the Cup. Such was the vessel's power that the soldiers were made immortal where they stood. The carnage they wrought was beyond all imagining." Gaius sighed. "The king's no fool. He knows that the forces of the Old Religion are rising up against him once more. Heaven forbid that the Cup should fall into Cenred's hands. If he found a sorcerer willing to wield it, Camelot would be all but lost."
Merlin shuddered. [Morgause was with him in the Castle of Fyrien.]
"Then our worst fears may be realized," Gaius said grimly.
Less than an hour later, Arthur sent for Merlin. Merlin and Mordred both went to Arthur's chambers and found Arthur counting coins into a small purse. "Pack a bag, Merlin, we leave at sunrise," he said, not looking up.
"To find the Cup of Life?" Mordred guessed.
Arthur finally looked up, and stiffened when he saw Mordred. "It's a secret. Can't tell you that. And you're not coming."
Merlin obediently took out a large bag and began filling it with clothing while Mordred continued talking. "Oh come on, why else would you go on a mission outside Camelot? Besides, how do we know what to pack if you won't tell us where you're going?"
Arthur ignored him and looked at Merlin, who had just pulled out one of the prince's capes. "Not that. Nothing bearing the crest of Camelot, we're going undercover."
"You're definitely going to get the Cup of Life," Mordred concluded. "Why won't you just say so?"
Merlin put the cape back in the wardrobe and turned around. [You might as well admit it, Arthur, nothing's going to convince him otherwise.]
Arthur sighed. "Fine. Yes, we're going to get the Cup of Life. But I'm not telling you where it is."
Mordred narrowed his eyes. "You don't know, do you."
Arthur turned back to the stack of coins. "No, I know where it is, it's just I can't tell you, that's all."
"What, if you did you'd have to kill me?" Mordred scoffed.
Arthur looked up again, no trace of humor in his face or voice. "Immediately and without hesitation."
Merlin coughed. [You'll do no such thing!]
"Of course I won't, because I'm not going to tell him."
"But Merlin is allowed to know?" Mordred demanded.
Arthur shrugged. "He'd find out when we get there, and anyway it would be rather difficult for him to let it slip to random passersby."
"So you don't trust me, is that it?" Mordred asked, hurt.
Arthur sighed and shared a look with Merlin before turning back to Mordred. "I trust that you would never purposely betray Camelot."
Mordred narrowed his eyes. "You two are hiding something, aren't you."
Merlin grimaced. [Go to bed, Mordred. I can pack on my own.]
"Fine," Mordred grumbled. He left the room.
Merlin and Arthur shared another look. "You think he'll tell Morgana about the Cup of Life?" Arthur asked worriedly.
Merlin sighed. [I really don't know. He brought up a good point, though, anyone who heard Leon's story can probably guess what we're up to. The moment you said we were leaving in the morning, I automatically assumed we were going after the Cup. It didn't even cross my mind to ask.]
Merlin and Arthur did indeed leave at sunrise. Mordred watched them from a window, still feeling decidedly put out by their conversation the previous night. He decided to go and talk to Morgana about it.
"Mordred!" Morgana greeted cheerfully. Her smile faded slightly when she saw his expression. "What's wrong?"
"Merlin and Arthur don't trust me," Mordred complained. "Arthur wouldn't tell me where they were going because he doesn't seem to think I can keep a secret, and Merlin clearly agreed even though he knows I've been keeping secrets my whole life! I think they're keeping something from me!"
Morgana narrowed her eyes. "And you think this secret of theirs has something to do with why they wouldn't tell you where they're going?"
"How should I know? They wouldn't tell me anything! Arthur only admitted that they were looking for the Cup of Life because I'd figured out that much on my own!"
Morgana appeared lost in thought for a moment, then she shrugged. "If they don't trust you, that's their loss."
"I hate that stupid Cup," Mordred grumbled. "It nearly killed Merlin after that whole Questing Beast thing and now it's making him and Arthur hide things from me."
"In the right hands, I'm sure the Cup can do great things," Morgana suggested. "Everything will work out all right, you'll see."
As Merlin and Arthur approached Cenred's kingdom, the forest became vaguely familiar. With a start, Merlin realized that he knew the cave they were going to—the druids from Mordred's birth clan had often used the cave as a teaching spot.
Then as they neared the border, Merlin spotted something he recognized and he reined up. There was a crudely-drawn triskelion in the bark of a nearby tree. Merlin slowly ran his fingers over the mark. He remembered the day, many years ago, when Freya had carved that. She had used the mark to forbid Merlin from climbing the tree, claiming that the mark meant only druids were allowed in it. Merlin had often ignored her and climbed the tree anyway.
"Something interesting, Merlin?" Arthur asked from behind him.
Merlin shook himself out of the memories. [It's nothing.]
Arthur looked past Merlin's shoulder and squinted. "That's a druid mark. That's a good sign, we must be going in the right direction."
Merlin nodded. [Less than an hour away now.]
Arthur gave him a strange look. "How do you know that?"
Merlin briefly froze, but quickly recovered. [The cave's just past the border, isn't it? And we're near the border.]
"Right." Arthur paused, then narrowed his eyes at Merlin. "You all right? You looked…sad."
[It's nothing. I'm fine.]
"Oh," Arthur breathed, looking stricken. "You're thinking of her, aren't you."
Merlin gaped, wondering how on earth Arthur could have figured that out.
"I'd forgotten the girl was a druid," Arthur continued. "I'm sorry."
Merlin relaxed, realizing Arthur simply thought he was saddened to see a druid symbol in general. [Didn't want to bring it up, but yes. Come on, we've got a mission.] Merlin turned forwards and nudged his horse into a walk. A few moments later, he felt a sharp pain in the side of his neck. He looked to the side and had just enough time to see the shaft of a dart before he lost consciousness.
Merlin opened his eyes and nearly a dozen men swam into view. Arthur was standing front and center. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead," Arthur said loudly.
Merlin slowly stood up and took in the situation. They were in an indoor stone pit whose walls were about twice the height of a man. Light spilled in from a window somewhere up above. The pit was packed with men; there was very little elbow room.
Merlin jumped when Arthur spoke again, this time in a low growl. "Touch me again and you die."
Merlin whirled around to see Arthur shoving a man's hand off his shoulder. His eyes widened as he recognized the man, leading Arthur to also turn around. "Gwaine?"
"No manners, you royals," Gwaine said good-naturedly. "Merlin, old friend, you look terrible." He put his hands on Merlin's shoulders in what was probably meant as an affectionate gesture, but Merlin reflexively jerked away.
"Don't touch him either," Arthur warned. "Gwaine, what are you doing here?"
Gwaine shrugged. "Oh you know…wrong place, wrong time, wrong drink."
"Nothing's changed there, then," Arthur concluded. "Where exactly are we?"
Gwaine glanced upwards. "In the bowels of an old castle. Belongs to a fellow named Jarl. Lovely bloke. Slave trader."
Merlin shuddered. From what he knew of the slave trade, even he had never experienced anything that horrible.
"Right, you filthy vermin," a man called, approaching the edge of the pit. He wore jewels and black furs; Merlin guessed he was Jarl. "Which one of you is ready to face my champion in the arena?"
Jarl waited for a few moments, but no one moved or made a sound. "No volunteers? I shall have to choose one of you filthy toerags myself, then. Let me see…how about…you?" He pointed a finger in Merlin's direction. Merlin looked over his shoulder, desperately hoping Jarl was pointing at someone behind him, but no such luck. "Death or glory, boy. You should be honored."
"Who is this so-called champion?" Arthur asked loudly. "Can he crush nothing but weaklings like this?" Merlin turned to glare at Arthur, offended.
"You think you can offer a better contest?" Jarl demanded.
"I guarantee it," Arthur said confidently.
"Very well," Jarl agreed. "But if you lose, I'll feed your little friend to the crows, piece by stinking piece. Are you ready, my champion?"
"I am," Gwaine replied. Merlin and Arthur stared at him in disbelief. Gwaine grimaced helplessly.
The three of them were lifted out of the pit and taken through the castle. Arthur leaned over to Merlin and spoke in an undertone. "I don't think you're weak, Merlin, but arena fighting is not your strong point and you know it. Try to create a diversion." Merlin nodded tersely, trying desperately not to slip into bad memories.
They were taken to a large room full of jeering men. The crowd parted to leave an empty, circular space in the center of the room. Arthur and Gwaine were shoved into this space. One of the slave traders held Merlin by the arms near the back of the crowd, which did absolutely nothing to calm Merlin's nerves.
"Gentlemen!" Jarl said loudly. "The rules are simple. One man lives and one man dies. If you cannot, or will not finish off your opponent…I'll kill you both." He tossed a pair of swords at Arthur and Gwaine's feet. "Let battle commence!" The room filled with bloodthirsty cheers.
Arthur and Gwaine looked at each other, then picked up the swords. Gwaine hefted his sword and swung at Arthur. Arthur staggered backwards in apparent surprise at Gwaine's ferocity, then he raised his own sword and began blocking Gwaine's blows. Merlin shut his eyes, trying to ignore the sound of clashing swords. He focused instead on trying to come up with a diversion. But what on earth was he supposed to do with no voice and his arms restrained?
Suddenly, the crowd surged forward and leaned over. Arthur and Gwaine had vanished from sight, apparently grappling on the ground. Jarl pushed his way through the crowd. "Finish him!"
Desperately looking around, Merlin spotted a torch and finally remembered his magic. A flash of his eyes caused the torch to flare up and ignite a tangle of ropes that was hanging from the rafters. The fire rapidly spread, soon covering the whole ceiling. The crowd scattered.
Merlin wrenched himself out of his captor's grip and looked around for Arthur and Gwaine. A few moments later, they ran past Merlin toward the exit, carrying the swords. Arthur grabbed the back of Merlin's jacket and hauled him along.
In the woods outside the castle, the trio finally stopped to catch their breath. "Well, that's somewhere I'll not be in a hurry to see again," Gwaine commented, panting.
"Best stay out of trouble, then," Arthur remarked.
"I could say the same to you."
"You could do, but I wouldn't have any idea what you're talking about," Arthur said flatly.
"Oh, come on," Gwaine wheedled. "You must have done something to end up in a hole like that."
"Actually, we're on a quest," Arthur admitted.
"Sounds like fun," Gwaine decided, picking up his sword.
"That wasn't an invitation," Arthur objected stiffly.
[Just let him come,] Merlin suggested. [I trust him, and clearly we could do with some help.]
"Fine," Arthur agreed sourly. "Congratulations, Gwaine, Merlin thinks you should come along."
"Excellent!" Gwaine said cheerfully. "Knew you'd come through for me, old friend!" He moved to put a hand on Merlin's shoulder, but Merlin once again jerked away. Gwaine held his hands up in a gesture of peace. "Whoa, what did I do?"
"I meant it when I said don't touch him," Arthur answered, a warning in his voice. "And don't ask why."
Merlin took a deep breath, then forced a smile. [It's okay. Come on, we're wasting daylight.]
About an hour later, Gwaine spoke up as they walked. "So, where exactly are we going?"
"If I told you that, I'd have to kill you," Arthur said casually.
"May as well tell me, then," Gwaine prodded. "I mean let's be honest, you couldn't kill me even if you wanted to."
"Yeah? Try me."
"I already did, back in the arena," Gwaine replied, grinning. "I had you bang to rights, didn't I?"
"That was just a game," Arthur insisted.
"Oh, a game, right." Gwaine paused thoughtfully. "I won that game, did I not?"
"No, you didn't," Arthur retorted. "One more minute…"
Annoyed, Merlin grabbed Arthur's arm and whirled the prince to face him. [Neither of you won! Your fight was interrupted and at this point there is absolutely no reason to continue it! Follow me when you're ready to behave like grown men!] With that, Merlin pushed past them and continued toward the druids' cave.
"Uh…what was that?" Gwaine asked, somewhat warily.
"Apparently Merlin only tolerates childish behavior from actual children," Arthur replied, sounding slightly chagrinned.
Soon, they arrived at the cave. A number of mossy boulders surrounded the entrance. Merlin noted with mild interest that there was a lot more moss than there had been twelve years ago.
Arthur led the way into the cave. Merlin looked around at the many candles and hanging cloths. They rendered the cave almost unrecognizable; no one had actually lived here back when Merlin knew the place.
"It has to be here somewhere," Arthur muttered, bringing Merlin back to the present.
A cloth rustled. Arthur slowly walked forward, then suddenly reached behind the cloth and pulled a young druid boy out of hiding. "Where is it? Hmm?" Arthur lightly shook the boy. "Where's the Cup? Tell me!"
Merlin coughed.
"Not now, Merlin!" Arthur snapped, keeping his eyes on the boy. "Where is it?"
Gwaine drew his sword. "Arthur, you really ought to look up."
Arthur finally looked up at the dozen or so druids that had emerged into view. He promptly drew his sword and held it to the boy's chest, to Merlin's utter outrage. "One step closer…" Arthur warned.
"There is no need for violence, Arthur Pendragon," the leader said calmly. With a start, Merlin recognized Iseldir, one of his childhood mentors…and the druid who had turned Freya out on her own to deal with her curse. "The boy has done you no harm," Iseldir continued. "Release him."
"Not without what I came for," Arthur insisted.
Iseldir smiled. "You seek the Cup of Life, do you not?"
"I do."
Iseldir held out the Cup. "It is yours. Please, now…the boy."
After a few moments, Arthur lowered his sword and gently pushed the boy toward Iseldir. He grabbed the Cup, but Iseldir did not release it. "You meddle with a power you do not understand, Arthur Pendragon. By taking the Cup of Life, you risk more than you know."
Arthur yanked the Cup out of Iseldir's grip. "I'll take my chances, thanks. Let's go." He turned around and headed back toward the entrance of the cave, along with Gwaine. Merlin started to follow, but turned back when he heard Iseldir's voice in his head.
Emrys. The Cup is in your care now. Guard it well. The future of this land depends on it.
Freya once depended on you, Merlin snapped. And now she's dead.
Iseldir sighed, suddenly looking weary. We tried everything we could think of. Nothing would break her curse. I had to send her away, for the safety of the clan. But I do believe that you and she were destined to be reunited.
"Merlin!" Arthur called from somewhere ahead. Merlin glared at Iseldir before hurrying after the prince.
He caught up with Arthur and Gwaine just outside the cave. "There you are!" Arthur exclaimed. "What took you—" He broke off when Merlin punched him in the face.
[If you ever threaten any child ever again, I will leave your service,] Merlin warned. He stalked away into the woods.
"Now what's he mad about?" Gwaine asked incredulously.
"I forgot that Merlin is very protective of children in general," Arthur replied, somewhat ruefully. Moments later, he caught up to Merlin. "I'm sorry. I was so caught up in getting the Cup…" He broke off and shook his head. "That didn't make it right. I'm sorry."
[You should be,] Merlin retorted.
Suddenly, Arthur stopped short. "Merlin, where are you going? Camelot is that way."
Merlin started, belatedly realizing that he had automatically headed in the direction of the old druid camp. [Wasn't really thinking about where I was going.]
As they approached the border, Arthur stopped short again. "Quiet. Listen."
Gwaine looked around. "I don't hear anything."
"Exactly," Arthur said grimly.
Gwaine rolled his eyes. "Never satisfied, you city types. It's too noisy, it's too quiet…" He trailed off when a few dozen of Cenred's soldiers poured out of the trees. The trio immediately broke into a run.
A few minutes later, Merlin heard Arthur cry out in pain behind him. He turned around and ran back just in time to see Arthur lying on the ground and a soldier pulling the Cup out of Arthur's bag. Merlin lifted a hand and magically sent the soldier flying backwards, but unfortunately the Cup flew out of his grip in a different direction. Merlin chased it. The Cup went over the edge of a ravine, straight into the hands of another soldier at the bottom. The soldier ran off, accompanied by several of his fellows.
Gwaine called out behind Merlin. Merlin briefly looked back and forth between his friends and the Cup, then returned to Arthur's side. An arrow was lodged in the back of Arthur's thigh.
A few hours later, night had fallen, and Arthur's condition had not improved. Merlin carefully pushed aside the bandage for another look.
"That doesn't look too good," Gwaine commented. "You think the arrow might have been poisoned?"
Merlin nodded grimly and felt Arthur's forehead. It was burning up. Merlin took off his jacket and used it to cover Arthur, then looked at Gwaine and jerked his head at the fire.
"We need to keep him warm?" Gwaine guessed.
Merlin nodded again.
Gwaine stoked the fire, frowning thoughtfully. "I don't get it. All this bother over a cup?"
Merlin mimed holding a cup, then gestured at Gwaine's sword.
"It…it's a weapon?" Gwaine realized. Another nod. "Not so great Cenred has it, then."
Mordred paced in Morgana's chambers. "They should be back by now, you know they should! What if something happened to them?"
"Don't you go tracking them," Morgana said sternly. "We don't need a repeat of the Castle of Fyrien."
"I saved you all there, didn't I?" Mordred retorted. "And nothing bad happened to me."
"We had the matter well in hand!" Morgana insisted. "I'm sure that wherever Merlin and Arthur are right now, they can manage without you."
"But…"
"Don't make me enchant your chambers tonight," Morgana threatened.
Mordred swallowed, well aware that Morgana meant what she said. "Fine. I won't go anywhere."
Arthur's condition was steadily worsening. Now very concerned, Merlin shifted so that his back was to Gwaine. He held a hand over Arthur's forehead and silently incanted a spell. Arthur continued shivering with fever. Merlin tried his spell again. Still no effect.
"Any change?" Gwaine asked hopefully.
Merlin shook his head.
Gwaine sighed and glanced at the dying fire. "About earlier…you really don't like being touched, or was that Arthur being a royal ass?"
Merlin grimaced and shifted slightly away from Gwaine.
"I'm guessing that means the former," Gwaine concluded. "I'll try to remember that."
The next morning, Leon returned from a scouting patrol to Cenred's border. Once again, Leon was the only survivor, but this time he claimed they had never reached the border. Cenred's men had been well within Camelot's territory.
"We must convene the council of war," Uther announced worriedly.
"They cannot be stopped," Leon said shakily. "The soldiers, Sire, they will not fall!"
"What are you saying?" Uther breathed.
"They will not die," Leon clarified. Mordred and Gaius shared a look of dread.
Uther's eyes widened. "Gather the knights. Prepare whatever defenses you can."
"But Sire—"
"Do it!" Uther snapped. Leon bowed and exited, followed by most of the councilors. Uther turned to Gaius. "It's Cenred. It must be. How? The location of the Cup was secret."
"There's only one explanation, Sire," Gaius said grimly. "We have a traitor in our midst."
Mordred glanced at Morgana, expecting to see his own horror mirrored on her face, but instead she looked…pleased. What was wrong with her?
"Where's the Cup?" Arthur demanded. Merlin jerked out of his light doze to see the sun high overhead and Arthur looking frantic. Gwaine stirred on the opposite side of the fire pit. "Where's the Cup?!" Arthur repeated.
[Cenred's men took it,] Merlin answered.
"Then what are we still doing here?!"
[You were unconscious!] Merlin pointed out.
"You should have woken me!"
"We tried," Gwaine cut in.
Arthur tried to stand up, but cried out in pain when he put weight on his bad leg. Gwaine hurried forward to support him. Arthur finally gained his balance, though he leaned heavily on Gwaine. "We have to get back to Camelot before it's too late," he gasped out.
That night, Mordred cautiously entered Morgana's chambers and found Gwen staring out a window at the army amassing outside Camelot. Mordred walked up beside her. "They're immortal," he said worriedly. "Camelot doesn't stand a chance."
Gwen turned to look at him, her expression wary. "How do you know that?"
"Sir Leon said so. And Gaius told me about a magic Cup that can make an army like that." Mordred shuddered. "And he thinks there's a traitor among us. Who would do…this?"
Footsteps entered the room. "Gwen? Mordred?" They turned around to see Morgana behind them, still looking far too pleased about the current situation. Mordred shuddered again, desperately hoping that there was an innocent explanation for her bizarre attitude.
"Is it true they attack at dawn?" Gwen asked shakily.
"I'm afraid so," Morgana replied.
"And no word from Merlin or Arthur?" Mordred added, though he suspected he knew the answer.
Morgana shook her head and smirked. "Nothing."
"Then all is lost," Gwen concluded. "We will be massacred, every last one of us."
Morgana stepped forward. "Not everyone has to die."
"What do you mean?" Mordred demanded fearfully. "Morgana…what's going on?"
"Those that defy them, those that choose to fight—they will surely die. Those that do not resist—those that choose to welcome change—they will have a future here." Morgana looked seriously at both Mordred and Gwen. "Everyone has a choice." Mordred felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as he finally let himself believe the worst.
Gwen swallowed and smiled. "You know I have always been loyal to you, Morgana. And I always will be."
Morgana turned to Mordred. "Mordred?"
Mordred glanced at Gwen, wondering if she meant what she said or if she was lying out of self-preservation. Until he knew for certain, he couldn't trust her…couldn't trust either of them. There was no way he could be loyal to Morgana when she betrayed the kingdom like this. But there was also no way he could hope to take on the immortal army.
Mordred took a deep breath and made his decision. "It's like you once said, Morgana. You're my Camelot mother. I'd do anything for you."
Morgana smiled. "Then have no fear. No harm will come to either of you, I promise you that." She pulled them both into a hug. Mordred forced himself to return it, even though he'd been lying through his teeth.
As soon as he had the chance, Mordred took a moment to himself in a deserted corridor to process what he'd just learned. Morgana had always been so kind, so loving. Had that been a lie? Was the woman he so admired nothing but a façade for a monster? Or was there some goodness in there? She had given him and Gwen the opportunity to live. Perhaps she truly was his friend, if not quite the friend he thought she was.
But she had stopped him from going after Merlin and Arthur. And if the Cup was in Cenred's hands, that implied some terrible fate had befallen them. His brother and friend could very well be dead, probably because of Morgana, and he might never know what had really happened to them. On the bright side—if such a thing was even possible—Merlin and Arthur would never have to know the terrible truth.
Or did they?
"You two are hiding something, aren't you?"
Suddenly, Mordred found himself mentally reliving the last year. Merlin and Morgana had been tense every time they saw each other. Arthur had tried to leave Morgana behind in the Castle of Fyrien. Merlin hadn't seemed particularly happy or relieved when Morgana recovered from her fall on the stairs. Arthur had directly accused Morgana of framing Gwen for witchcraft.
Oh god. They had both known all along.
"Is no one honest with me?" Mordred whispered.
When the trio saw the burning ruins of a village in the distance, they tried to quicken their pace. Unfortunately, Arthur's limp prevented them from making any sort of haste.
A few hours later, they found the remains of a Camelot patrol. Looking around, Merlin made a horrifying observation. [There's not a single enemy body.]
"You're right," Arthur realized. "This wasn't a fight, this was a slaughter."
"Who could have done such a thing?" Gwaine wondered.
"An army of men that cannot die," Arthur said grimly. "Come on."
Late in the afternoon, the trio crested a ridge and caught sight of Camelot. The citadel was wreathed in smoke, and Arthur limped forward with renewed determination. On their way to the city, they passed the remains of another patrol.
Night had fallen by the time they made their way through a side gate into the deserted streets. Mordred? Merlin called worriedly. What's going on?
Merlin! You're alive! Mordred exclaimed, relieved. Then his voice hardened. The citadel has fallen to Morgana's army. But you knew all about that, didn't you?
Merlin sighed. Yes. I've known ever since she came back.
And you never said anything?! Mordred cried angrily. You just let me spend time with a woman you knew was evil?
I let Morgana spend time with one of the very few people I know she truly does care about in the hopes that it would bring out her old self! Merlin retorted. It seems it was all for nothing, but I'm not sorry I tried. You should have seen her when you were sentenced to death. She was so determined to save you, it was almost like we were friends again. Her affection for you may be the only shred of goodness left in her heart, but it is there.
You're talking like she really was good once, Mordred noted.
Merlin sighed again. She was. And it's my own fault that she isn't any more. That's one story I'd really rather not share; living through it once was bad enough.
Fine, Mordred acquiesced. I'm not sure I really want to know anyway.
At that moment, the trio reached Gwen's house. Arthur moved as if to kick down the door, but Gwaine held up a hand and did it for him. They cautiously entered the house, Arthur and Gwaine with swords drawn.
Suddenly, there was a yell. A dark figure emerged from behind a curtain, wielding a sword. Arthur hurriedly lifted his sword to parry, then both men lowered their weapons as they recognized each other.
"I'm sorry," Elyan said shakily. Merlin hurriedly closed the door.
"Where is everyone?" Arthur demanded. "What happened?"
"They came out of nowhere," Elyan replied. "A mighty army, weapons were useless against them. They were men, Sire, but…not men. Nothing could kill them. Nothing."
Arthur was briefly silent. "Where's your sister, where's Guinevere?"
"She was in the citadel when they attacked," Elyan answered.
"Then there's still hope," Arthur decided, turning toward the door.
Elyan shook his head. "Sire…the citadel's been taken."
Arthur determinedly led the way into the citadel, avoiding soldiers and ignoring his limp. Eventually, he stumbled to a halt and leaned against a wall, panting.
"Where now?" Gwaine prompted.
"Now, uh…" Arthur trailed off, breathing heavily.
[You need treatment,] Merlin signed firmly.
Arthur shook his head. "I don't have time for treatment. We must find the others…Guinevere and my father…"
Mordred? Merlin called. Do you know where Uther and Gwen are?
Uther was thrown in the dungeons. Gwen is…fine.
Right, thank you. Returning his attention to his surroundings, Merlin jerked his head at Elyan and pointed downwards.
"Gwaine and I can check the dungeons," Elyan suggested, catching on. He and Gwaine went back the way they'd come.
"I'm going with them," Arthur stated, trying to follow. Merlin slung Arthur's arm around his shoulder and began dragging him toward the physician's chambers. "That's an order, Merlin!"
Merlin ignored the prince, easily overpowering Arthur's feeble attempts to pull away.
Merlin finally set Arthur down on a bench in Gaius's chambers. "You're disobeying orders, Merlin, I could sack you for that!" Arthur threatened.
[You can't sack me if you die of infection,] Merlin retorted. He walked over to a table and began looking through some potions, then froze when he heard a noise in the closet. Picking up Arthur's sword, he cautiously stalked toward the closet and threw it open. When he saw who was inside, he immediately lowered the sword.
"Merlin!" Gaius exclaimed.
[Are you all right?] Merlin demanded worriedly.
"All the better for seeing you!" Gaius replied, obviously relieved. Arthur groaned, and Gaius noticed the ailing prince on his bench.
[I tried to heal him with magic, but it didn't work,] Merlin revealed.
Gaius walked over to Arthur. "This may hurt a bit, Sire." He examined the wound, eliciting another pained groan. "The wound's infected. I'll have to redress the leg to reduce inflammation."
"No, no, no, we haven't got time, just give me something to keep going," Arthur panted.
"Yes, Sire," Gaius reluctantly agreed. He walked over to the table of potions.
Merlin went up into the bedroom and pulled up the loose floorboard. He grabbed a bag, opened it and stuffed the spellbook inside. After a moment's contemplation, he pulled out the vial of water from the Lake of Avalon and put that in the bag too. He added a spare set of clothes, then closed the bag and returned to the main chamber just as Elyan and Gwaine burst through the other door.
"The king, Sire, he's alive!" Elyan exclaimed.
Arthur immediately stood up, putting down an empty potion bottle. "Where is he?"
"They're taking him to the throne room as we speak," Gwaine replied.
"Then this may be my last chance," Arthur concluded.
[Arthur, there's too many of them, you'll never make it!] Merlin fretted.
"I won't leave my father to die here alone," Arthur vowed. "Gwaine, Elyan, take Gaius and make your way to the woods beyond the castle. I hope we meet again."
"What about Mordred?" Gaius objected. "I haven't seen him since yesterday! We must find him!"
[He's safe here,] Merlin promised.
Gaius stared at Merlin as though he'd grown a second head. "Who are you and what have you done with my ward?"
"He's right, Gaius, but there's no time to explain," Arthur interjected. Gaius reluctantly followed Gwaine and Elyan out the door, and Arthur turned to Merlin. "I won't order you to come with me."
[You couldn't order me to leave,] Merlin replied. Arthur grinned before heading to the door.
Arthur stumbled slightly as they walked through the corridors, but he stayed on his feet. They had to dodge several patrolling soldiers, and they ended up changing directions and making their way onto the balcony of the throne room. They laid down on the floor, making themselves as inconspicuous as possible.
Morgause stood in front of the throne, smirking. Sir Geoffrey stood off to the side, held at sword point by one of the soldiers. Mordred and Gwen stood with a small group of courtiers near the front of the room. Most of the attendees appeared to be members of Cenred's army—though they wore different livery and Cenred himself was nowhere in sight.
A pair of soldiers hauled Uther before the throne and shoved him to his knees. They held him by the arms, forcing him to remain in that position. "Well, Uther," Morgause said. "How the mighty have fallen." Arthur started to rise, clearly determined to help his father, but Merlin pulled him back down. "I don't think you'll be needing this any more," Morgause continued, lifting the crown off of Uther's head.
"This is unlawful," Uther stated with barely restrained fury. "You cannot do this. You have no right to the throne!"
Morgana emerged into view. "No, she does not…but I do." Morgause smiled and stepped aside, allowing Morgana to take her place in front of the throne. "I am your daughter, after all." She smirked at her father. "Don't look so surprised, I've known for some time." Expression now icy, she sat down on the throne.
Morgause jerked her head at the soldier behind Geoffrey, and Geoffrey was shoved forward. Reluctantly, he held out an ornate jeweled crown. "By the power vested in me, I crown thee Morgana Pendragon…Queen of Camelot." He placed the crown on Morgana's head, and she smiled smugly. Uther bowed his head and struggled slightly, though his heart didn't seem to be in it.
"My sister is truly gone," Arthur whispered sadly.
To be continued...