Merlin rubbed his arms, trying to warm up, and glanced over at Percival. The big man seemed to have no trouble keeping warm. Merlin sighed.
"Tired?" Percival asked, grinning down at him.
"And cold." That was the problem with getting up early and coming outside in the dew, and then standing around for an hour, all before sunrise.
Arthur had decided to go with a smaller group of soldiers to the eastern side of the city, making a big show of believing Sifa's initial message. Meanwhile, he had surreptitiously sent a larger group, under Leon's command, to the western side to hide in the woods and wait for Morgana. Percival and Merlin had gone with Leon, while Elyan and Gwaine had remained with Arthur.
"This way, even if it turns out that Morgana is attacking from the east, we'll at least have someone there to guard the city," Arthur explained.
"Can't you use a spell to warm yourself up?" Percival suggested eagerly.
Merlin grinned. "I think I'll save my energy for the fight," he answered.
Bors, standing next to them, raised his hand. "Do you hear that?" he whispered.
"What?"
"Something moving in the woods."
A horn sounded from the east. "Morgana is attacking the eastern wall!" Leon exclaimed, and took a deep breath to call the troops to Arthur's aid. But before he could speak, there was a shout from the forest in front of them, and mercenaries came streaming down out of the trees. Merlin threw his hand out to divert an arrow that was headed straight for Percival, and battle was joined.
It was a large contingent that was attacking the western wall; Merlin guessed that Morgana had sent a smaller group to the eastern side to distract the soldiers she believed Arthur would send there, and had the larger group conceal themselves in the forest for a surprise attack on the western side. But she had not counted on Arthur placing a larger force on this side. They were quickly overpowering her troops.
"FALL BACK!" their captain shouted, and they began to retreat into the forest.
"CHARGE!" Leon responded, and Camelot's forces leapt forward with a cheer.
Merlin suddenly spotted Morgana, standing on a rock, her hand raised. He grabbed the person nearest him, who happened to be Percival, and dragged him to the ground just as Morgana shouted, "Áhnígeaþ!"
There was a thumping noise all around them, and Merlin looked up to see the troops on all sides falling down like dead men.
Percival gave a roar and leapt to his feet, chasing after Morgana, who turned and ran.
"PERCIVAL!" Leon shouted behind him, but Percival didn't stop. Merlin took off after him. He was going to get himself killed!
The spell must have taken a great deal of her power for Morgana to run instead of using more magic—but run she did, on the heels of her soldiers. "STOP AND FACE US, YOU COWARD!" Percival shouted.
"Perce, don't!" Merlin said—but this time she was too fast for him. He was still trying to catch up with Percival, to protect him, when Morgana spun around and shouted, "Áhnígeaþ!"
Merlin felt every ounce of energy leave his body in a moment. He fell limply to the ground and heard the thump and clatter as Percival did the same. Someone near him was panting with exertion—Morgana.
"As soon as I have my strength back," she growled, "I will be back. Half of Arthur's men are paralyzed, and no one but the Gaul has the knowledge and power to undo this spell." She sounded triumphant. "Your precious Camelot will fall, and you will not be able to even lift a finger to stop it!" He heard her footsteps recede into the forest.
"LEON?" Arthur's voice rang out somewhere in the distance, sounding almost panicked.
"HERE!" Leon answered, and if Merlin had been able to, he would have breathed a sigh of relief. He exerted all his strength, willing himself to sit up, trying to speak—but it was as if his mind had disconnected from his muscles. He couldn't move an inch, could barely even move his eyes.
He dug deep, trying to access his magic. He tried to break the spell, tried to speak—tried anything, anything to at least get a message out. But there was nothing. He could not so much as move the dead leaves on the ground before his face, could not even cry out to Mordred with his mind. He was entirely trapped, imprisoned in a body that did not respond. He felt panicked—but he could not even breathe deeply to calm himself.
"PERCIVAL! MERLIN!" He could hear people approaching through the woods, but he could not answer them.
"Merlin!" Someone had run over, was rolling him onto his back. His head lolled and he saw Arthur's worried face bending over him, and standing above him, Gwaine, looking deathly white.
"He's breathing," Arthur said after a moment, and Gwaine rubbed his hand down over his face, looking over toward Percival. "Merlin, can you hear me?" Merlin tried to answer, but no sound came out. "Merlin, talk to me." He tried to blink at Arthur, but even that was beyond his control.
"Same as the others," he said to Gwaine, sounding tired.
"Percival too," Leon said.
"We have to get him back to Gaius," Arthur decided. "If anyone has a chance of figuring out how to break this spell, it's Gaius and Merlin."
"What about Percival and the others?" Gwaine's voice was thick with repressed emotion.
Arthur sighed. "Let's carry Percival over to the others for now. We'll have to decide if we'll leave them in the field with someone to guard them, or try to carry them into the town." Gwaine pressed his lips tightly together, obviously displeased with this answer, but didn't remonstrate. "I'll take Merlin; you three get Percival."
It was yet another ride draped ignominiously over Arthur's shoulder. As he was bobbing about, flopping like a dead fish, Merlin caught glimpses of the things around him: Percival, being carried with much travail by Elyan, Leon, and Gwaine. A field full of what looked like dead bodies, which he knew were soldiers under the same enchantment as himself. Arthur's own contingent of men, staring at their comrades in shock. Percival's friends laying him down gently with the others. Gwaine giving Percival a last, pained look as he followed Arthur back toward the castle.
000
"What happened?" It was Gaius' voice, surprised but not alarmed. Arthur set Merlin down on the edge of a bed, and hands gently lowered him onto his back.
"Some kind of spell," Arthur said grimly. "Morgana hit most of my soldiers with it. They're all alive—strong heartbeats, breathing—but they can't seem to move."
Gaius appeared in Merlin's line of sight, pulling at his eyelids. He lit a candle and held it before his face. "His pupils are responding," he said thoughtfully. He lifted Merlin's hand above his face and let it go. It fell and hit Merlin in the face.
"Gaius!" Gwaine expostulated.
"I am checking for consciousness," Gaius said sternly. He ran his finger lightly over the ends of Merlin's eyelashes, and he felt his eyelids flutter.
"Ah!" Gaius straightened up. "He's conscious. But he's almost entirely paralyzed—even some of his reflexes aren't working."
"If he's conscious, he should be able to use his magic, shouldn't he?"
Gaius put two fingers to Merlin's throat. "Merlin, if you can hear me, try to break the spell." Merlin strained mentally at his bodily fetters, trying with everything he had to find some way around the spell—but nothing happened.
"He's trying," Gaius said: "his heart rate increased. But he doesn't seem to be able to access his magic."
"Can you break the spell?" Gwaine asked.
Gaius took a deep breath. "I can try," he muttered. "Bebiede þe arisan cwicum." He paused. "Þu fornimest adl fram guman… Gestepe hole! Þurhhæle!" He looked up at Arthur. "Nothing," he said. "Anna? Maybe you can use his own power to heal him."
She loomed into Merlin's field of vision and sat down next to him, placing her hand on his cheek. "Þurhhæle!" she said, and Merlin, trying to exert his own power through her, saw her eyes glow golden. She frowned at him—he wondered if his own magic had worked or not. "Let's try it again, Merlin," she said patiently, and repeated it.
"It's not working," she said, looking up and shaking her head.
"But I saw his eyes glow," Gwaine said. "He is channeling his power through you—isn't he?"
"Yes—I can feel his power—but the only healing spell I know isn't working," she explained.
"Try again," Gaius said.
Anna pressed her lips together and put her hand to his cheek again. "Þurhhæle!" This time Merlin exerted himself as he never had before.
"Whoa!" Anna broke the connection and sat back.
"What?"
"He just used an awful lot of power." She looked at Gaius and shook her head again. "It's the spell that's the problem. A healing spell won't fix this."
"Can't you try a different spell?" Gwaine suggested.
"I can heal him or I can set him on fire," Anna said acidly. "That's all I've got."
Arthur sighed. "Our first concern has to be to break the spell—on all of them," he said. "Gaius, see what you can find in your books—keep trying." Gaius nodded and stood, heading for his collection of magical books, books he no longer had to hide. "We will convene the Round Table—and call in Sifa and Kara. Perhaps one of them knows how to contact a sorcerer who may know how to break the spell."
No! Merlin thought desperately. Only the Gaul can break it—and by the time you figure that out, Morgana will have regained her power and will attack! And Arthur had less than half his usual army—and no Merlin to counter Morgana's magic. Merlin struggled internally. He had to tell Arthur to call up as many men as he could muster—strengthen the walls—prepare for invasion. But Arthur turned and left the room and Merlin couldn't even turn his head to watch him go.
"Gwaine!" Anna said, springing up, and disappeared from Merlin's field of vision. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.
He heard Gwaine give her a quiet kiss. "You're upset, Annie." He paused, then added, with difficulty, "We all are."
"I'm sure we'll figure a way out of this," Anna said reassuringly. "We'll have Percival and Merlin back on their feet in no time."
Gwaine gave a humorless little laugh—he knew she was speaking what she hoped, not what she believed. "I hope so, Love," he said. The door closed behind him.
Anna came back and sat down by Merlin's bed, looking distraught. She tried to give Merlin a smile. "Gaius will find something," she said, though she looked more tearful than hopeful.
Gaius won't find anything, Merlin thought hopelessly. At least, nothing that will help us. Even if he finds the spell, it must be something very difficult—they're not going to find someone who can use it. Not in time. Anna was the only one who could access the power—his power—to use that strong a magic. And Anna was the one who directed that power. She was excellent at healing spells, but as she had said, almost everything else was beyond her. Merlin needed to do more than give her his power: he had to be the one directing it. But he couldn't do anything except through her.
Then he had an idea. A wonderful, horrible idea.
"Don't worry," Anna said again, and put her hand on his. Merlin, silently asking her forgiveness, gave everything he had—everything. Anna's head flew back, and she gasped horribly. The world flashed golden in Merlin's sight.
000
"We need to find a cure for our comrades," Arthur said to the assembled knights. There were too few of them—too many gaps around the table. More than half the knights were missing, under Morgana's spell in the field to the west of the walls. "That must be our first priority. Anyone who knows a sorcerer or a spell that may help to break this enchantment, please step forward."
The knights all looked at one another helplessly, then looked toward Mordred, Kara, and Sifa.
"The Druids might know something—but contacting them would take time," Mordred said worriedly. "I don't even know where their camps are at the moment."
"Kara? Sifa?"
Both of them shook their heads. "I have been with Morgana too long—my people have moved on since I left them," Kara said, and Sifa nodded her agreement.
Arthur set his jaw. "Then we must search them out."
There was a sound of voices in the corridor, and the doors to the hall were flung open. Anna strode in—a strange, stilted gait which was not how she usually moved. Still, it was strangely familiar. Arthur didn't have long to wonder about it.
"You can't waste any time looking for sorcerers," Anna announced loudly, striding forward to the table. The guards came running in after her, looking confused. "You have to muster what fighting men you can find—and quickly!"
"Anna, what—?" Arthur was shocked. He had never seen her behave like this before: loud, insistent, demanding.
"It's not Anna," she said. "It's Merlin. I've possessed Anna. And you've got to get the troops now."
TBC
AN: *giggles maniacally* I've been looking forward to doing this since I started this fic…
I was very excited to discover the Anglo-Saxon verb áhnígan, meaning "to fall down, to bow down, to empty oneself." Seemed perfect for my purposes. :)
