SAFE

The spell was a simple enough thing, an enchantment he learned on his first days among the druids, words that made the air around him warm and cosy and not at all the freezing cold that risked turning his toes black by the end of the night. Of course, Kara had to build a fire anyway. The way Aglain explained, the spell was only useful to trap the heat around them instead of letting it get away. So, after he finished muttering the words of what might as well be his nightly prayer, he watched her piling a bunch of twigs and then looking for him again. One more word and they had sparks bringing a flame to life.

"Rabbit or bread?" She asked, rummaging around her bag.

Mordred thought about the question for a moment. The bread was old, the rabbit, Kara herself had caught that same morning. Sitting on a trunk and rubbing his nose, he took a look at the moon peering at him from between the clouds. Clouds of clear winter skies, not clouds for a storm.

"I think we can eat everything." He said, very aware of his empty stomach and uncertain of how she would take the suggestion. Mordred didn't want to seem desperate or selfish. "I mean, we'll get there tomorrow anyway, won't we? We will get food then."

Kara scrunched her face, her eyes had a hard edge to them even when she looked so much her age, his own age. Not for the first time, Mordred wondered if he had those eyes as well.

"We shouldn't risk it." She saved the bread. "We don't know if this place is safe, we don't know if your friend will help us. Maybe they will try to kills us and we'll have to run."

"Morgana is good." Mordred thought back to those days when sickness and grief had paralyzed him, and her gentle touch was the only thing he clung to, that and meeting Emrys in person. The hope of their people, real and in the flesh. "She saved my life, she will help us."

"You don't know that."

"I know."

Kara watched the roasting rabbit and narrowed her eyes. "I still think we should've gone north."

He knew then, that there was nothing he could really say anymore. North had been her parents' goal, north meant safety, meant a land where having magic and druid marks didn't make your life harder. Those were lands were laws were few or absent and the kings cared only for themselves. A harsh life, but one where they wouldn't be hunted. Being found by them, traveling with them, Mordred had almost dared to have hope again, because he was foolish and naive. His master, the other druids, Alvarr, whenever he dared to hope his life was finally getting better things would burn around him. Last time even Emrys had almost killed him. Maybe it was his fault in the end, bad luck. Maybe he was cursed like in those stories people would tell at Samhain. Everything told him so, because one day, when the knights came upon them, when their leader caught sight of the poultice that had healed his fever that same night, everything he could do was snap a man's neck, take Kara's hand and run as far as he could, her parent's blood burning spots on his boots.

Now the boots were clean, but he was still Mordred, and somewhat he was afraid everything would go wrong again. One night, he was so scared after a nightmare he briefly considered leaving Kara. He would leave the food and the extra cloak and run away as far as he could so as to not bring his curse upon her, but in the end he watched her crying in her sleep and held her through the night. In the end he was too much of a coward, too selfish.

Looking at his friend now, he supposed it was a good thing she was talking at all given those first days in the wild when she would stare blankly at nothing while he would try to get food, digging up for roots and mushrooms, carving bark to get at the sap under it, all unsuccessful. They had almost starved before Mordred finally ventured into stealing something. They were easing their aching stomachs by sharing a piece of dry meat he stole from a tavern's storage when the woman spoke in their minds, Morgana's name working as a guiding light even through the rumors he heard along the way, of the witch from Camelot, the butcher queen. Kara was suspicious, but she was talking, and he thought that was a good thing. She also started to sharpen that sword, the blade that almost killed her and that was too big for her hands. The whetstone running down the blade made a shrill song around their small camp every night, the darkness of eyes growing with it.

Licking his lips, Mordred considered her for a moment, then the fire, feeling the heat on his face, and the memories of lives past, trying to think of what brought comfort to the heart.

"Upastiye fifaldan" he whispered, the first spell he ever learned.

The embers gained life, and danced in the air. First individually and then together, forming half dozen butterflies of eerie glow. Kara looked up from her sword, following the butterflies until they vanished into the night, and one could almost imagine they would turn into stars if they flew high enough, and their light reflected on her gaze.

When she said "Thank you" it was the first time she touched his mind.

The second time was when she woke him up by early morning, her hand clamped on his mouth. "Don't speak."

He stared at her silently, the surprise slowly giving away to horror as he became aware of someone screaming at the distance.

"I'll do anything… Please don't hurt m…" He cringed when the voice was cut off, and right away he was on his feet sharing a look with his friend that was both fright and surprise. Following Kara, he crawled on the snow until he was laying down atop of a shallow slope, the cold seeping into his clothes as he leaned over to see. "P-please… I don't want trouble…"

The man begging was right in the middle, hugging his knees and cowering around himself in a futile attempt of protection. He wasn't old, his head was balding, and his clothes were weathered furs, which were taken from him piece by piece, his boots were already gone and around him, five men were busy sneering and laughing at his whimpering.

"I thought these sorcerers would be tougher" One of them said.

"They aren't that tough by themselves, right demon?" They were soldiers, Mordred thought, watching their mail and leather armor, the one speaking had a helmet on, which hid his face as he took the man's cloak. "I was there in the battle, your demon queen burned half of my face with a fire ball."

A kick, then another, more whimpers were the only answer, but Mordred could half understand the pleading. Please let me go, please let me go, please let me go…

"We have to do something" Kara sent into his mind.

The frosty serpent that squeezed into his soul stopped his answer. He watched them again, five men, with bloody crowns on their doublets, armored and armed. When he thought of helping he could only see himself alone once more, when he thought of helping he thought of Morgana protecting him, when he thought of helping he remembered that Kara was there and he was cursed. He would never know what decision he would've made, because suddenly he was pulled back by rough hands and Kara managed only a gasp before they were both thrown down to the rest of the soldiers.

"We've got something here captain!"

Mordred coughed, swallowing a mouthful of snow and struggling to regain his bearings, while Kara didn't hesitate, she grunted, barely managing to lift the sword enough for a swing. One of the soldiers caught the blade in his hands, laughing before pushing her to the ground.

"No!" He screamed, feeling that wave of power, so familiar and welcome at the moment. The soldier was thrown away before he could touch Kara, crashing against a tree and falling in a broken heap. Immediately, something blunt hit the side of his head, his vision exploded in a blur of stars and Mordred fell, the voices becoming faint all around him.

"Fuck, the kid is another one."

"Those bastards are everywhere!"

"Mordred!"

"Shut up, you little bitch."

"They are kids…"

"They are monsters!"

"Let's kill these freaks and get out of here."

Mordred groaned, he tried to call Kara, but he wasn't sure he managed to say her name. In front of him, he saw a face under the blue sky, laying there on the cold he wondered what he was doing. Something was on his hand, it was coming down on him and he understood it would be painful, at least until the shape was thrown away from him. Mordred blinked, swallowed by darkness and when he came to again, the sky was still blue, but he wasn't lying on the cold. Kara was there, her eyes wide. She was holding him, and people were screaming, steel was hitting against steel.

"Behind you Pylah!"

"Got it!"

"Protect the kids!"

He heard horses shuffling around, and turned his head, wondering what was actually happening around him. He met the empty eyes of a dead man instead, his body covered by arrows making him look strangely like a porcupine. Beyond the corpse he saw a soldier running away, and then a rider passed him by, a long dark braid flying at the back while a blade glowed under the winter sun, cutting the soldier's head in one swift swing, and like a bell the act seemed to swallow the sounds of battle. Around him, Mordred could feel Kara's arms tightening their hold as the rider climbed down from the horse to look at them, her pale face scowling before looking over her shoulder.

"Pylah, there is one hurt here, come on!"

"I'm on it" Another face got in front of him, this one dark and smiling. "Hey there, I'm not gonna hurt you, all right? Just let me take a look."

Kara didn't lose her hold, but Mordred felt the magic envelop him, refreshing and deep. He didn't understand the words, but he immediately felt better, her face becoming clear as he managed to speak. "T-thanks, Pylah?"

"Mordred." The woman said, laughing. "I can't believe you're alive, and lucky too. The wound was easy enough, you wouldn't believe how many hits to the head I heal every week."

"I thought you were dead."

Pylah shrugged. "It's good to see you, we'll talk more later all right?"

"Are you all right?" Kara asked as Aglain's daughter left, and he offered his reassurance by sitting down and smiling.

"And you, what is your name?" Turning to see what was happening, they saw the pale woman from before, and for the first time, Mordred got a good look at her. First, she seemed to be the one charge. Second, she wore full knight regalia, with chainmail and armor, and a dark cloak stitched with a red tree.

At her feet, the man the soldiers had been attacking was trying and apparently failing to look away both from the woman and the corpses around him. "I-I'm Trickler, that is my name, T-trickler…"

"Strange name." The woman noted. "I'll take a wild guess and say you're after Queen Bitch?"

"Mauren!"

"Fuck off, Forridel."

Forridel shook her head, directing her words at the man. "She is asking if you came to find Queen Morgana, refugees have been coming to Corbenic from everywhere these days."

Mordred had no idea where Corbenic was, but the mention of Morgana was enough to have him nodding his head. From his side, Pylah was smiling as she helped them to their feet. "Well, you three are lucky, we've been hunting those men for days."

"What did they do?" Kara asked.

"Well, they were soldiers, but them they lost and instead of running away to Mercia with their master, they stayed and started attacking innocent people."

"And it's our pleasure to take them down." Mauren said from her own horse. "Now let's load up and get out of here, I want to get back before Alvarr and his group of morons, you know how they eat all the food."

"That looks like a fine weapon." The woman who asked the question was the blond the others called Forridel.

These warriors, men and women both, were forming a circle around her, Mordred and that Trickler man, letting them ride on horses while they crossed the forest, and that was the first time one of them spoke. It took some time for Kara to realize she was speaking of the sword on her lap, the Camelot blade had a dragon on the pome, and a polished wood handle which seemed expensive.

"Thanks."

"Where did you get it?"

Biting her lip, she looked over at Mordred. Her friend still seemed too pale for her taste, more than usual, but his smile assured her enough to answer. "I took it from a dead knight."

At once, Forridel's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed as if deep in thought. "Is that why you two were traveling alone?"

Kara shrugged. Was there really a need to say anything? The only reason for a girl and a boy of barely fourteen summers to travel by themselves was because something horrible happened.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes." One thing that came with speaking in someone else's mind was that it was very easy to pick on emotions and Mordred's emotions lingered from concern to something alien that made looking at him difficult. "You must be happy."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll get to see your friend again, that is what you wanted."

She dared to meet his eyes, bright blue, confused. She didn't blame him; she was confused too. There was a spot of blood still hanging from his hair, and she could only think of the moment the soldier hat hit him in the head, the sight of his blood and the way his eyes seemed to not see her. It made her feel as cold as her parent's deaths, which frightened her. Kara had been sure she had nothing left to lose, but apparently she did. It wasn't just a matter of missing her father's singing and her mother's rueful scolding when she came back from playing in the mud, it was also Mordred and his stupid butterflies.

The rest of their trip seemed almost uncomfortable, with them idly listening to the chatter of the warriors. Occasionally, they would speak about Morgana or something, as if for their benefit, and she could see Mordred drinking every word. Queen Morgana made magic legal in Essetir. Queen Morgana was fighting slavery. Queen Morgana was feeding the people and negotiating with the druids. Even Kara admitted it all sounded too good. When she finally laid eyes on Cenred's Castle, or Corbenic as her rescuers called it, she almost expected to find roads of gold leading inside, and flowers blooming as if the woman could bring spring itself to life.

Being from a family of wandering travelers, Kara should've seen a lot of stuff in her life, but their druid origins always forced them to keep away, living deep in woods, marshlands and the countryside in general, places with greater promise of safety. She was still disappointed. The castle properly seemed almost like a disproportionate thing, with round and square towers, and walls that seemed to bloom from the ground around the main keep, as if people had been building around previous castles for ages. It laid flat on the ground, surrounded by a village where people walked around, carrying beams of fresh cut wood, piling stones and thatch hoofs. They were traveling through a village in construction.

"They come from everywhere." Forridel told her. "Some are from villages that would starve otherwise, others come from further afield seeking shelter and freedom to be themselves."

Kara frowned, not believing her. Grown-ups always lied when they promised things like that.

A bunch of boys took their horses in the courtyard and Kara followed the others into a huge hall, its space crowded by long tables where people eat and talked in a cacophony of sounds that made her nervous. By her side, Mordred seemed to share her mind, grabbing her hand only to blush. She didn't complain. In moments they had bowls placed in front of them, the smell heavenly and the taste even better. As she chewed in a chunk of meat, she watched them, these people.

Men, women and children, druid marks and clean faces, all sitting in the same room although not really side by side, small groups all of them, except a man on the far corner, talking to a bunch of kids. She was trying to discover what they were doing when Mordred gasped by her side.

He was looking to a portal to a side door where a woman had just entered. She was beautiful, Kara noticed right away, and then she really took her in. She was wearing a black wool dress, and gloves, her dark hair covered by a crown of silver shaped like a dragon whose wings were gathered back to flank her head, if that wasn't enough for her to recognize Queen Morgana, the brief hush along the hall and Mordred's back as he run towards the woman was.

Some guards tried to stop him in vain, but soon enough the woman saw him too, and her face blinked. She seemed like she couldn't believe her eyes, and then the two were hugging, right there in the hall, saying words she couldn't hear. Feeling like she was invading a private moment, Kara looked away – many others doing the same – and again she sought the man with the children. As if on a cue, he clapped his hands, making dozens of butterflies jump from the light of the candles, flying dreamily over the children who happily started chasing them.

"Mauren and Alvarr both assure they swept the country clean, but I think we should keep our eyes open nonetheless." Ruadan advised them that afternoon. "After what happened in Oldoak, we should keep ourselves alert."

"I agree" Morgana said to the people around her. "We shall keep to the patrols until further notice."

"Such tragedy, let's hope we might avoid another one like that." Lady Cerys spoke, bringing the whole table to be quiet. Oldoaks had been a small village south of the Ouse, a lively place, Morgana was told, until survivors of Lot's army sacked it and put everything to the torch.

"There won't." Morgana answered a little forcefully. "It's with that in mind that Ruadan has been reforming our army."

Her council was a distinguish unique thing from everything she had known as a child.

Uther's council as she remembered had always been compromised of few people and they were usually all old men, old men who would lick her warden's boots and kiss his arse at a moment's notice, men who shared his views in anything from taxes to the proper color of a drape. The idea of such a nest of weeds nauseated her to no end, and so she was glad to find a rather good balance in her own kingdom. No, her council was made of anything but boot-lickers.

Lady Cerys sat across from her, occupying one of the two chairs she promised to keep Essetir's nobility happy, the other one belonged to Lady Elaine and both of them were a welcome challenge on their own, if only to keep her on her toes. The old brendui, Nyely, sat close to the fire, claiming her old bones liked the warmth, while Ruadan and Morgause flanked her left and right. Each one there had their own wisdom to offer on matters of state, but no one had publicly asked her about the empty chair, which she found both amusing and satisfying.

Sitting around the table in what used to be Cenred's solar, they silently listened to Ruadan going on about their numbers, the man was dressed warmly, his only jewellery was a silver chain given for his position as chief of her army. "We aren't nearly strong enough to place border patrols, so that job will remain with the local lords for now, but our strength is growing in numbers every day. The new policies on recruitment certainly helped."

One of her first big declarations was to allow garrisons to recruit both young men and women from the lowborn, since it was both a good way to fill ranks as well as establishing changes in the long run. It was foolish after all to keep a whole half of the population away from the fighting, she had seen how effective this could be back in Ealdor. Her only worries were in keeping the work load. Women were responsible for a great many things, from mixing butter to sewing and her people needed proper clothing as much as they needed protection. Still, many nobles hesitated or simply didn't follow her instructions, something that she would have to work on carefully, at least for now.

"Have you need of any coin?"

"Not at moment, what we pillaged from Lot's army allows us to arm many and more."

"Good" Still, she would split a part of Cenred's treasure for future use. "I believe we have need to be speak of a new taxes policy as well."

At that, Lady Cerys squared her shoulders, her aging chin proudly tilting above the pearls around her neck, while tiny wolf heads howled along her purple dress. "Yes, many lords and ladies have concerns about your new proposition, your majesty."

"And what are those?"

"You must understand, Cenred wasn't a man of many details. He offered much freedom in the way we were always allowed to set our own taxes on the people." The woman explained. "Many nobles will be unhappy with your demands."

"Demands?" That was a fine word. "I don't see it as a demand, Lady Cerys, but I understand many won't be happy for having to take less from the common people."

"You cut half of our income."

"I cut half of the income from the highest taxes on the land, which were Lord Belmont's. Funny enough, Cenred was paid less than he was due, but I guess the man wasn't fond of book keeping." She breathed in and out. "Let the lords know that the royal vault is satisfied with its current state, and the queen won't change her mind on this, however I'll allow them to make use of the royal army and our food storage for the next year which should easy their worries. The crown is also prepared to help the building of mills in their lands."

The food storage and the army were already obligations from any monarch, but having her clear promise on the matter was good, besides, the mills were the real deal here and Lady Cerys knew that. Essetir still got most of their flour from manual grinding, but if she could establish mills along the rivers, well, cheap bread would be very welcome. "Would you be able to meet such offer?"

"I wouldn't make the offer if that wasn't the case." Morgana smirked. "Do let them know I'll be sending sorcerers to their courts at any given time, we can't hope to integrate our people into the land if they have no one to guide them in their ways."

Lady Cerys paused for a long breath of time, and then she nodded. At that Nyely's old wrinkled hands came to rest atop the table, her brendui robes making her look like an ancient gray turtle. "Since you brought that up, it's a pleasure to inform the council that the druids have agreed to grow crops to help the castle storages, and our gardens have also begun to bear fruit."

"So magic really can grow crops even in winter." Lady Elaine seemed thrilled by the thought and Morgana remembered her lands had lost crops due to the lack of workers.

"It's not just magic, my lady. Druids have grown their own food for ages. Fruits, vegetables and grain, our magic can grow them faster, healthy and plenty even in the most undesirable conditions."

"Maybe I can use this to our advantage. Madoc has been quite abusive concerning the prices of his honey and cattle, negotiating with that man is a nightmare."

Lady Cerys frowned. "If the druids are completing our supplies, I do wonder what will be of our farmers."

"Worry not, Lady Cerys." Morgana interrupted. "Magic will be of use only in dire situations, such as the one we're in now. Unfortunately, not many kingdoms are willing to help us and not many merchants want to trade with sorcerers. There is only so much we can squeeze out of the smugglers."

"On that matter, have the druids agreed to a talk with the crown?" Ruadan asked from his seat. "In my experience, they would never show themselves."

That was indeed a problem. Since her crowning, Morgana was aware of many groups of druids moving into Essetir's territory, but beyond brief contacts with her soldiers and Nyely, they had made no move to be part of the kingdom. Judging by the brendui's face, the news wasn't good.

"They are hesitating, which is understandable, but also curious. No proper druid was part of the battle against Lot, and they have suffered much for a peaceful people, we should consider luck they are helping us at all."

"I shall meet with their leaders personally at some point. Is there anything else?" She looked over at them for a moment, waiting to see if they had anything that deserved her attention. When nothing happened, she got to her feet, feeling the crown tilting atop of her head. "In that case, I think we can end things here. My lord, my ladies."

Her sister followed and as soon as she was out of the door she felt Accolon and another guard taking place at her flanks, two shadows in what she judged was an unnecessary hassle as far as she was concerned, but Morgause insisted on it and the council agreed.

"Don't you think you should've told them about Camelot?"

"It wouldn't do to make them panic right now" It had been only a day since Agravaine's message arrived, warning her of impending problems. "After Oldoak we need some quiet around here and Ruadan is already doing the best he can to assemble a fighting force, there is really not much this news can bring to the table."

"Urgency. Many lords pace like slugs to follow command, maybe these people need to be scared to follow orders." Her sister looked to her and frowned. "There is also that other matter to deal with."

"I'll deal with it. Tomorrow I'll announce you will be in charge while I'm gone, and that is that. I'm thinking I might met with the druids on the way, try to form a proper alliance."

"Won't you need help in dealing with them?"

"Not at all." Morgana stopped short of entering her chambers. "If I go alone they might be more willing to listen."

Morgause studied her for a bit, moving a blond curl behind her ear. "Very well, but be weary."

"I'll."

When her sister was finally gone, she entered her chambers, immediately smiling at the sight on her table. She still staggered with how young he seemed, short and skinny he was a far cry from the young man she last saw, dead on a field a battle. This Mordred was alive, well and smiled widely when she came in.

"Morgana!"

"Hello, Mordred." She moved to leave her crown atop of her vanity, knowing Sefa would polish the metal later on. "How are you liking that one?"

The boy looked at the book on his lap, the cover was old and gray and wrinkled on the corners. "I didn't know some of these spells even existed."

"Well, there are many and more, as long as people were born with magic there have been those willing to explore it." She sat on the bed, running her fingers through the hair that was curling beyond his ears. Swallowing a wave of emotion, she allowed the moment to stretch itself out, so entranced by the notion that he fit in her arms so well, this small part of her heart. "I hope I can teach you a lot in the future days, if you're willing that is."

Mordred nodded. "Aglain taught me a lot of stuff, but he didn't get to do much else."

"His daughter, Pylah is one of our best fighters."

"I saw her, she was happy to see me." The boy leaned over her lap, and her heart broke a little, these little gestures were common since she met him again in the great hall, and remembering the weary man who was willing to stand against her in her past life, Morgana wondered what happened to him out there, what would've happened. "You said you were going away, why do you need to go away after we just met again?"

"Because I have to, it's a responsibility." She paused, moving to change the subject. "I hear your friend is already being called a tiny devil in the training yard."

"Kara."

"Kara." She had never learned the girl's name before. In the broken heap of a person she had become at the time, her only interest was in Mordred being at her side once more. Now, he sort of looked away. "What is it, Mordred?"

"If you go away, you might not come back."

"I can't ignore the summons."

"You don't understand!" Suddenly he jumped away from her, pacing around her chambers, his face breaking into a storm of desperation Morgana had only seem in a mirror. "I-I don't… Please… Don't leave me… You'll…"

He trailed off, unable to put his feeling into words, until she was latching on to him, grabbing his shoulders and rubbing his tears aside. "Mordred, it's all right…"

"It's not all right! Something always goes wrong… If you leave, something will go wrong, Kara will die…. I'm cursed…"

"You're not cursed Mordred!" She might have spoken too loudly, but Morgana didn't care. She had already pieced together that he and the girl had seen some horrible things, that her parents had died after saving Mordred. She had seen how they were both skin and bone the first time she saw them. Still, yelling wouldn't solve anything, so her next words were said carefully, clear and strongly, words she was learning on her own as she spent time with that crown on her head. "There might be evil out there, you hear me? But never think that it's your fault that others do evil things. It's not." What I did was never your fault.

"But…"

"I'm not going to die." She promised, an impossible oath, but one she wished to make all the same. "And you're safe here, you and Kara both. Nothing will ever happen to you again. Morgause is my sister, and I trust Ruadan and his daughter completely. If you look out of the window, you'll see men and women willing to raise their blades so that what happened to you never repeats itself, all right?"

In front of her, the boy nodded, closing his eyes and she gathered him in her arms, willing all his grief and fear away with her touch.

"You're safe, and you know what you do when you're safe, Mordred?"

"No…"

Morgana smiled, holding him tighter. "You live."

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