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Chapter 2

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, dropping his crossbow. Heart in his throat, Arthur sprinted over to the prone figure on the ground. Behind him, he could hear the rest of the knights doing the same. Arthur got there first. But something was blocking him.

He waved his hands to ward off the unicorn standing protectively over Merlin. "Go on, shoo!" The creature threw back its head and pawed the ground. It didn't move. Growing impatient, Arthur reached for his crossbow, then remembered it was gone. As if knowing his thoughts, the unicorn gave him a disapproving look.

A sudden movement from the corner of his eye made him whirl around. An old man in a silvery cloak gazed at him somberly. Arthur tried to shout a warning to his men, but before he could open his mouth, both the man and the unicorn had disappeared.

He blinked. A trick of the light, no doubt. He had more pressing things to worry about at the moment. He turned his attention back to the fallen man.

Please don't be dead, he prayed silently. He knelt down beside Merlin.

Merlin lay there, unnaturally still, face deathly pale. His eyes were closed.

"Please don't be dead, please don't be dead," Arthur chanted under over and over his breath, prodding Merlin's neck nervously, searching...searching….Where was it? Was he-?

Arthur sighed with relief when he finally found a weak but steady pulse beating. Merlin was alive.

But for how much longer? Right before his eyes, the little color Merlin had left was draining from his face. He was losing too much blood.

Blood. Red was trickling steadily from the entry wound, staining the boy's threadbare shirt crimson. All this time Merlin had been losing more and more blood, while Arthur had stood there gaping like an idiot.

"Leon!" he called. The knight hurried over.

Cursing his own stupidity, Arthur pressed his hands gently but firmly on the chest wound to staunch the blood flow. Leon crouched down beside him.

"Sire?"

"We need to get the bleeding to stop," said Arthur. "The shaft...can we get it out?"

Leon tore open Merlin's tunic. A good eight inches of fine oak wood protruded from his chest, glistening wetly with fresh blood.

He grasped the wooden shaft carefully, and gave a soft pull. More blood pooled around the wound. He quickly let go.

"I'm afraid we cannot, Sire," he said grimly. "It's in too deep. We could cause more damage trying. It's also helping control the bleeding," he added. "It would do more harm than good to take it out at this point."

Leon thought for a moment, then reached for his sword. He sawed off most of the shaft. "It'll be easier to move him like this," he said. "We'll leave the rest so it can be pulled out later."

"We need to get him to Gaius," Arthur murmured. His eyes never left Merlin's face.

Leon nodded. He grabbed the ragged remains of Merlin's shirt, and began to tear it into long strips. "Bandages," he explained, when Arthur looked confused.

He wrapped the makeshift bandages around Merlin's chest in a way that staunched the flow but did not pull at the shaft. By the time he finished, the bandages were already dotted red.

When he made to lift the boy from the ground, Arthur waved him off. Leon opened his mouth to argue, but wisely thought better of it. He stepped back.

Arthur put his arm under Merlin's head, carefully supporting it, then lifted him up. He was no heavier than a ragdoll, Arthur thought sadly. With Leon's help, Merlin was soon propped up on Arthur's horse, tied to the saddle so he wouldn't fall. All through the process Merlin did not stir. The wind picked up, and Merlin shivered. Without a second thought, Arthur unfastened his cloak and wrapped it around the boy.

"I know you don't ever do as you're told, Merlin," whispered Arthur, tucking the cloak ends securely. "But...just, don't die on me, alright?" Merlin shuddered weakly, but did not respond.

"Someone should walk the horse," said Leon. "I don't think it would be wise to ride with Merlin like this. The speed and bumps in the road could dislodge the shaft, and possibly puncture something."

Sir Wiglaf, one of the newest recruits, hurried over to them. "Sire. Take my horse." He bowed his head. "I'd consider it a privilege."

"No." Arthur shook his head. "No. But thank you Sir Wiglaf." He squared his shoulders. "It should be me."

"Sire," Wiglaf argued, "the journey will take half the day at least, now that we're going at a walking pace. You cannot be on foot for so long!"

"I can and I will."

"But Sire-"

"Leave him." Leon interrupted. Wiglaf shrugged, and turned away to saddle his horse. When he was sufficiently distracted, Leon turned to Arthur.

"I know why you're doing this," he said in an undertone. "Nothing I say will convince you otherwise, but it was an accident."

"I know," Arthur mumbled.

"You know." Leon repeated, eyebrows raised. He smiled and shook his head. "And yet you do not agree. Do what you feel you have to, Sire. I'm ready to take over if you tire at any point."

"Thank you, Leon." said Arthur quietly. "But I have to do this myself."

Leon nodded. Arthur raised his voice and addressed the knights.

"Send two men ahead to send word to the court physician. His services will be needed.