Arthur's heart stopped as the little boy jumped between him and the flying knife.
"Callum!" He roared, thrusting his sword down and trying to grab the boy. He was too late though and his stomach dropped as the wicked blade moved right for Callum's throat.
No! no! Arthur's stomach twisted, and his throat went dry. Not him. Not like this.
But, just as the knife's tip nudged the child's neck, it stopped in the air. The blade hovered for a heartbeat, then fell to the ground with a soft clank. The crowd was crying out and panicking. Arthur's knights had rushed out to check on him.
"Sire?" Leon asked, obviously fighting for control of his alarm. "Are you unharmed?"
Arthur gave him a brief nod, kneeling down beside Callum. Gently, he moved his hands along the boy's small frame. Seeing that he was unharmed, Arthur's fear morphed into that of pure rage.
"Are you crazy!" He snarled, grabbing the boy by his shoulders. "What were you thinking?"
Callum's eyes grew huge, and he looked down at the ground.
"I-I'm sorry…" he sounded puzzled. "But the knife was going to hit you, and-."
"I don't care!" Arthur's chest was tight as he spoke. "I can take care of myself…I don't need a little boy dying for me!"
Too many had died for his sake as it was…
"Arthur!" Merlin had burst from the crowd and rushed to his friend's side. "I saw the knife… I stopped it…"
"You certainly took your time." Arthur snapped, his fear still buzzing in his ears. "Then again, don't you always?"
Standing up, Arthur spun to face the crowd. His knights had restrained the man who had thrown the knife, and were dragging him down to the king. Odin, who was watching the exchange with interest, paled as he noticed that the man was one of his.
"Arthur…" he called, standing from his seat. "I apologize. I assure you, I had no prior knowledge of this… plot." He sat back down, folding his hands in his lap. "I discharge this… snake from my service; do with him as you see fit."
Arthur, shaking from anger and fear, picked up his disregarded sword and held it. The man who had thrown the knife was thrust to his knees before the king. He had orange hair and an orange beard, and eyes that glittered with hate.
"Are you aware," Arthur drew out coldly. "That attempting to kill the king is a crime punishable by death?."
The man spat at him… actually spat at him. Arthur took a step back, his lip curling in disgust.
"Yeah?" He sneered. "Guess what, it was worth it! It was worth it to see the fear in your eyes!"
"What exactly have I done to earn your ire?" Arthur wanted to know.
"Him!" The man roared, jabbing a finger towards Merlin. "Your father was a great man, and a great king! He would never have allowed such a… creature to live in his kingdom! Magic is the scum of the world… and you've let it right into the heart of your land!"
"Trent…" Merlin breathed.
Arthur glanced over at him, wondering how his friend knew the name of such a man.
"Trent…" Arthur echoed. "I see… you attacked me because of Merlin?"
"It," Trent spat. "Doesn't deserve a name!"
"Get him out of here!" Arthur roared, having had just about enough. "Take him to the dungeons!"
As the knights dragged Trent away, Arthur closed his eyes and took in a breath, steadying his shaky body. With his jaw clenched, he grabbed Callum by his forearm.
"We're taking a break," Arthur yelled out to the crowd. "Go… find something else to do for an hour or so… we'll continue this duel when I return."
With that, Arthur pulled Callum from the rink, his ears ringing.
The boy could have died.
Thomas's breath slowly returned to a regular pace as he watched Arthur drag Callum away.
That kid, he closed his eyes as the crowd stood up and began to leave around him. Is an idiot!
Thomas had watched, shocked, as the kid had rushed out into the arena. He had been so frozen…
The chosen one had almost perished.
If that foolish runt had died, Thomas shivered. Everything I've worked for would have been destroyed.
But, luckily for them all, Merlin, greatest wizard of all time, had saved the day…
Thomas turned and started after the rest of the crowd. He shoved his way past people and made his way back to Gaius's chambers. The old man was probably back at the tournament, talking to Merlin.
Making his way to his bedroom, Thomas shut the door and peered around. Certain that he was safe, the young man pointed to a book that lay spread out on the foot of his bed.
"Levitate." He breathed, feeling the magic pulse through his very core. The book floated up into the air, and then, with a flick of his hand, Thomas held it in his grasp.
The book was a gift from his father. It had all the spells and history a young Druid would ever need to know…
Thomas smiled as he flipped rapidly through the pages, making his way to the back.
And I added my own touch, he thought smugly. The back pages of the book were littered with messy scrawl, Thomas's handwriting. The teenager had written down all that he had ever learned from Wishlin and from other sorcerers in these pages.
The boy froze as he came to the page he had been looking for.
How to communicate with the dead.
Thomas stared at the page. He'd written down the information an elder Druid had given to him here. Information about the Horn of Cathbhadh.
If I can find that horn, Thomas thought, barely able to hang onto the book as his hands quivered with excitement. I can speak to the greatest magic user to ever live! The one person who will know exactly how to make Callum follow his destiny.
Morgana.