A/N: Thank you Buckhunter, and GuestM Live for reviewing!


No. 17 Reluctant Caretaker

It was late afternoon by the time Arthur and Lancelot were almost to their destination, a village on the edge of the border where Arthur had arranged to conduct some negotiations with a neighboring settlement. The matter was sensitive, which was why it was just the two of them. And in an effort to mislead opposing parties, Arthur had sent a decoy of himself with a bunch of knights on a journey in the opposite direction. Merlin had pitched a fit over being assigned the decoy, but the ruse wouldn't work if anyone saw the prince's manservant with someone else.

They finally arrived at the village, only to find it eerily quiet. Guard instantly up, the two of them looked around cautiously. Lancelot caught Arthur's eye and cocked his head toward something on the ground—dried blood trails in the dirt.

They drew their swords as softly as they could from their scabbards and ventured forward. There was no sign of anyone. One house's fence was smashed, and some farming tools lay scattered. Something had happened, but it didn't look like a normal attack.

A barn door squeaked as it swayed in its partially open position. Several blood trails seemed to converge on it…like drag marks. Arthur's mouth tightened as he braced himself for whatever they'd find inside. He had been in battles and seen atrocities, but none of that prepared him for the pile of bodies inside the barn. Not just villagers, but animals too. Gathered and piled high like some heinous hoard.

Arthur only just registered that the wounds weren't caused by blade or iron when a pair of yellow eyes glittered in the back of the barn, and an ear-piercing screech rent the air. He and Lancelot whipped their swords up as a giant lizard came barreling toward them. They scrambled backward to get out of the door and into the open, the beast plowing out behind them. It turned sharply to face them, body vibrating with aggression. Layers of thin spicules laid all down its back.

Arthur and Lancelot brandished their blades against the creature, but its hide was tough and difficult to pierce. Lancelot eventually managed to stab it in the shoulder, and it screeched. Before Lancelot could pull his sword out, the lizard swung its body around, and the spicules on its back shot straight up and out, several of them stabbing into Lancelot's side. He went down with a cry, and Arthur charged at the beast's head. The lizard shrieked and swung itself around again, and Arthur barely ducked in time to avoid those spines shooting over his head. He came up with a thrust at the lizard's neck, blade piercing the scales. It let out a horrendous gurgle but continued to thrash. Arthur drove it backward until he upended its balance and it fell on its side, then he gave his sword as strong a twist as he could, severing the beast's spinal cord. It finally fell limp.

Arthur wrenched his blade free and stared at the lizard for a lengthy beat, making sure it was truly dead. When he was certain, he turned and rushed back to Lancelot, who was lying on his side and jerking as he went into shock. A dozen barbs were sticking out of his side, arm, and thigh.

"Oh gods," Arthur breathed. This was bad, very bad. He whipped his gaze around, even though he knew they were alone and there was no one here to help. "What do I do?" he muttered to himself.

He tried to think of what Merlin would do were he here. Probably start with an "I told you so," Arthur thought bitterly for not having him come along. But no, the physician's apprentice would call for water, a fire, and bandages. But first, those spines had to come out.

Arthur swallowed hard as he debated whether to do that here or move Lancelot into shelter. That was probably better. Plus Arthur needed bandages ready to stop the bleeding once he pulled the barbs out. So right here would not be a good idea.

But how to move him? Arthur looked around again, then got up and sprinted to the nearest hut. It was empty but was a decent shelter. He turned back to Lancelot, faltering as he realized he couldn't drag him by both arms, not with those spines in him. So he grabbed his uninjured arm and pulled. Lancelot cried out, and Arthur grimaced in apology and tried to make it quick. It was easier when Percival and Leon were with him.

He got Lancelot safely inside the hut, then began ransacking the home for any supplies he could use. He got a fire in the hearth going and laid out a blanket next to it. Then he searched for water. There wasn't any in the house, so he made a trip out to the well to retrieve some.

When he returned, he knelt next to Lancelot and tentatively called, "Lancelot?"

"Mm," he mumbled.

"I have to remove the spikes."

Lancelot nodded jerkily.

Arthur reached for one but then caught himself. No, bandages ready first. He didn't have any, but the other knights had sometimes ripped up their cloaks, so Arthur did that, laying out the strips in a row beside him.

"Okay," he said, mentally preparing himself for this next bit.

He grabbed one of the spicules and began to pull it out. Lancelot whimpered, and Arthur pulled faster. He wiped away the blood that flowed freely afterward. He was going to have be strategic about this, he realized, even though he was completely out of his element. But Lancelot's life was literally in his hands, so he would try his best.

He decided to start with the arm, removing those spines first and then quickly bandaging the wounds firmly. He did the leg next. Some of the punctures bled more heavily, making him panic briefly before he got the makeshift bandages tied around them. Lancelot continued to bite back choked moans, and Arthur tried to be quick. He tackled Lancelot's torso last, since he'd have to roll Lancelot a little to get the longer strips of bandage all the way around him. Once he was all done, he then struggled to half pull, half roll Lancelot onto the clean blanket next to the fire. His friend was pale and shaking by the time he was finally settled, and Arthur tried to get him to take some water.

He then sat back to take full stock of their situation. Lancelot was in bad shape, and the punctures in his leg were deep. He probably wouldn't be able to walk. Arthur could try to find a horse or mule, but he suspected all the livestock had been eaten by the lizard, just like the villagers. And none of the knights of Camelot would be coming to look for them soon because they weren't expected back for at least two days.

Arthur cursed this turn of events. He thought he'd been so clever with this arrangement and ruse, and now he and Lancelot were stranded, and Arthur didn't know how else to help his wounded friend.

He wasn't completely helpless, though. He knew how to manage disasters. So he focused on their immediate necessities—enough wood to keep the fire going overnight, plenty of water, and food.

Arthur scavenged through the village, collecting everything they could possibly use. He drew several buckets of water from the well and carried them into the hut he and Lancelot had hunkered down in. He also made a stockpile of wood for the fireplace, and all the food he could find that hadn't yet spoiled. Supply wise, they were set for a few days.

Lancelot woke near dusk, and Arthur immediately brought him a cup of water to drink.

"Can you eat something?" he asked next.

Lancelot gave a weak nod, and Arthur brought over some cheese and meat that'd been cooked earlier. He struggled to get it down, though, his face scrunching up in pain during the effort. He then lay there with his eyes closed, breaths strained as he recovered himself. After a few minutes, he cracked his eyes open again and roved his gaze around the room.

"We have plenty of supplies," Arthur told him, more to just fill the silence.

"Good, that's good," Lancelot murmured. "You can go for help in the morning."

Arthur frowned. "I'm not leaving you like this."

"It's dangerous for you to stay here," he countered.

Arthur huffed irritably. "Would you be saying this if I wasn't a prince?"

Lancelot just looked at him seriously. "But you are."

He shook his head. "The others will come soon. We just have to wait."

Lancelot, thankfully, did not try to argue further.

Arthur stoked the fire and then settled in for a long night watch.

In the morning, Lancelot was shivering with fever. Arthur found more towels in another house and soaked them in water before laying them over Lancelot's forehead. Other than that, he had no idea what to do. He'd always relied on other people to take care of…everything. Sure, he knew how to maintain his armor (even though that was a servant's job), and he knew how to run a battle campaign and handle the larger affairs of running a kingdom. But when it came to changing bandages and what to do for illness and infection, he was useless. Why hadn't he learned these things as well? It wasn't like such knowledge was beneath him.

Lancelot was lost in his febrile state, and when Arthur's helplessness became overwhelming, he left briefly to take a walk around the village perimeter, telling himself it was just to make sure they were secure and there weren't any threats out there to worry about. It was certainly not because he was a coward in the face of his own ineptitude.

He found some beekeeper hives and vaguely remembered that Gaius used honey to treat infections. And so after a minute's hesitation, he decided to try to retrieve some. This was another thing he was completely out of his element in, even though he knew the theory behind it—don't disturb the bees and they won't attack.

But he didn't have any protective gear, and he didn't want to waste time scrounging around for it. The bees filled the air all around him as he lifted the lid off one of the hives. Holding himself rigidly, he reached in to scoop out a good handful of honey. It took all his willpower not to bat at the bees buzzing so close to his face, but he managed to retrieve some honey without getting stung, and he hurried back to the hut with it. Globs of it dropped on his trousers and the floor as he searched for an empty tin to dump it in. Once he did, he knelt next to Lancelot with it and unwrapped the bandages. Several of the puncture wounds were red and inflamed.

It occurred to Arthur to clean them again before applying honey, so he did that. Then he dipped two fingers into the viscous golden syrup and spread it over the wounds. The infected ones were hot to the touch, which he knew wasn't good.

Not all the wounds looked bad, but he decided to apply honey to all of them anyway. He needed fresh bandages after that, so he went through the neighboring huts for more blankets, grabbing them all to have on hand as needed. He cut one into strips for now and rebandaged Lancelot's entire left side.

Arthur kept up this routine for two whole days. To his astounded relief, Lancelot began to show signs of healing and regained consciousness on the second day.

"How are you feeling?" Arthur asked in concern.

"All right," he murmured. It was clearly a lie, but compared to his earlier state, this was a marked improvement. He lolled his gaze around the hut. "How long?" he rasped.

"Two days."

"You're still here."

"Where else would I be?" Arthur rejoined and brought Lancelot some water.

From that point forward, he was conscious for longer periods and able to eat and drink small portions, though the low fever persisted. Arthur started to consider getting him on his feet and doggedly heading home, which he knew Lancelot would attempt to do. But he was still in terrible shape and Arthur didn't want to be responsible for literally pushing him to death. So they stayed put and Arthur continued to take care of his friend.

Then, finally, on the fourth day, he heard voices outside and cautiously went to look. It was Leon with the other Knights of the Round Table and Merlin.

"Arthur!" Leon exclaimed when he spotted him. "You're all right! We've been worried when you and Lancelot didn't return."

"Where is everyone?" Merlin asked.

"Dead," Arthur replied. "That beast had already slaughtered the villagers before we arrived." He nodded to the carcass still lying on the ground.

"Where's Lancelot?" Elyan asked next.

"This way."

Arthur led them to the hut where Merlin immediately assumed the caretaker role. The knights had horses, so they were able to get Lancelot up onto one so they could finally take him home to get proper treatment. Still, Arthur felt a note of pride that he'd been able to keep his knight alive long enough for help to come.

And he was going to make a point to get some field lessons from Gaius before going out on another mission.