Chapter 20: The flutter in the heart

At Dawn, Gwen held a modest funeral for Salia, with Gaius, Merlin, and Asha in attendance. The Queen told Asha to see to the rest of Salia's burial, and had a knight send word to her family in the county. Then Gwen went bleary-eyed to her chambers, where she remained the rest of the day in quiet grieving.

Merlin helped Asha with some of her duties, then sank gradually into a more pervasive gloom, so that even Arthur could not stir him. In fact, Merlin seemed almost agitated at his friend's presence, and eventually declared he was going out to collect herbs, and no, he would not like company.

He slipped off into the dusk, leaving Arthur to pace the grounds for what felt like the millionth time.

"Honestly, Merlin, you're being a bit dramatic, aren't you?" Arthur had said. Merlin just turned up his nose and strode away.

Deeper into the forest, Merlin closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. He was angry, and he felt it was a righteous anger. Over and over again magic was used for improper ends. There was Nimueh, Morgouse, Mordred, Morgana. There were shop keepers that got into their head magic would make them rich, dishonest men who used magic to turn into faux knights, kings who used magic to wage wars.

But there were the druids, too; peaceful people who used magic quietly and profoundly. There were the dragonlords of old, and Gauis, and people like Gaius. There was Merlin himself, and the magic of the earth that pulsed deeply through the forest even now.

Merlin could feel that magic, every bit of it. He felt in his bones the power of the wind, the dance of the seasons and pull of the moon. No, Merlin reasoned, magic could not be bad.

Light had all but slipped from the forest, and through his trance Merlin sensed something. It made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. A rawer magic than that of nature was at work nearby.

Daftly, he followed his senses.

To his surprise, Merlin found himself standing over a little fire, watching the flames skitter through the night. A knife at his back caused him to jump.

"Whoever you are, keep away from my camp or I'll make quick work of your liver," a woman's voice quivered. Merlin knew that voice.

"I mean you no harm," he said, turning cautiously. It was the woman from the hole, her arm still bound in Merlin's makeshift bandage. A smile bloomed on Merlin's face.

"You," the woman said. "Merlin, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Merlin gaped. The woman's shocking blonde hair looked lovely in the firelight. Merlin, despite himself, felt his heart jump a few extra beats. "And you," he said, "I never got your name."

The woman smiled, lowering her knife. "Marissa," she said. "So, Merlin, what are you doing all the way out here in the middle of the night?"

"I could ask you the same," Merlin said.

Marissa's smile upturned into a frown. Like her beauty, the frown was somewhat forgettable. "After you helped me the other day, I set out to return to my kin in the next kingdom, but my wound has gotten worse, and I was worried I would not make the trip. So I turned around, believe it or not, in hopes of finding you in Camelot. It seems you have found me instead."

"Oh," said Merlin, because it was all he could think to say.

"I'm sorry about the knife," Marissa said. "You can never be too careful when traveling alone."

"Yes," Merlin agreed, then he remembered himself. "You should let me have a look at that arm."

She let him look, and Merlin was startled by what he found there. The cut seemed to be considerably worse, which was odd because it had been a shallow wound and he had cleaned it well. Infection must have set in sometime after he and Marissa had parted ways.

"You still have not told me why you are out here," Marissa said.

"I was only coming out to clear my mind. I lost a patient yesterday."

"I'm sorry to hear," Marissa said. Her voice was very clear, Merlin thought, like the sound of running water in a brook. "Perhaps I shouldn't want you looking at my arm," she added.

Merlin glanced up, his face full of worry.

"Oh, no, I was only joking. I'm sorry, was that indelicate?"

"No," said Merlin. "I mean, maybe." He smiled.

She shifted a little closer to him and his heart hiccupped again. Catching himself, Merlin silently scolded himself. Wasn't he just grieving? Becoming as clinical as he could, he considered Marissa's arm. Healing it might require some magic, he thought.

"Your arm," Merlin said. "I could better treat it in Camelot, where I have my herbs and books."

"I would be happy to go with you there," Marissa said. "It's dark now; perhaps it would be safer to travel in the morning?"

Marissa touched Merlin's arm tenderly, and again the hairs on the back of his neck stood up in a way that was quite the same and very different from before. He wavered.

"No," Merlin said. "I'm worried about this arm. I think we should go now. We're not really very far from the castle at all."

Marissa seemed somehow disappointed by this, but with Merlin's encouragement she packed up her few belongings and stifled her little fire. They walked together through the forest, Marissa's good arm looped gingerly through the cook of Merlin's.

"You are young for a physician," Marissa said.

"I am older than I look," Merlin said. He had looked about twenty for nearly as many years. Merlin could not determine Marissa's age, and he had the good sense not to ask. She seemed, like him, somewhat out of time, though there were a few more lines webbing under her eyes than his.

"I should tell you now," Marissa said, "I cannot pay you for your services. I spent the last of my money on a meal in a tavern two days ago. I was hoping to find work with my kin, but as I have already said, I never made it to them."

"That's perfectly fine," Merlin assured her. They had reached the lower town now, and candles were flickering lazily in windows here and there. The sounds of cattle lowing were carried by the wind from the valley below. Tonight, the world seemed at peace.

Arthur caught sight of Merlin when he entered the courtyard.

"There you are! You've been gone all bloody afternoon, and your pet has made a mess of the horses' hay trying to build some type of nest."

Merlin cast a certain glance at Arthur, and the ghost rolled his eyes.

"That woman again? Really Merlin?"

Merlin continued talking easily to Marissa, and led her into the castle with the promise of promptly fixing up her arm.

Arthur knew Merlin could not and would not talk to him with the woman around, so he petulantly stomped off towards the castle wall to fling pebbles at the rooftops below. Maybe he'd scare awake some peasants, he thought. It'd be the only fun he'd have all day.

IOIOIOIOIOI

In the cave that she called home, the sorceress Anna calmly folded straw into dolls for curses. She liked making cursed dolls, even if she had no one in particularly she was after cursing. She paused only a moment when Gareth anxiously paced in, his eyes red from a sleepless night.

"Have you heard from Marissa yet?" He asked.

"No, which should mean her task last night was successful," said Anna. "Weren't you meant to watch the citadel to see if she got in?"

"I couldn't get close. There was someone on the wall. They knocked pebbles to the ground all night."

"Pebbles," Anna scoffed. "Are you afraid of pebbles now, Gareth?"

"Mock me all you want. Those are dangerous people, Anna. They killed Gaheris already. And this Merlin, he killed Morgana, too, did he not? They will make quick work of the rest of us if we are found out."

"Calm yourself," Anna said. She set aside the finished doll and picked up supplies to begin another, fantasizing quietly about all the people she would curse one day with her store of dolls. "From what Marissa said, this Merlin appears to be no more than a boy."

"That may only speak to his power," Gareth said.

"Maybe. But Marissa has him deep under her spell. She hardly needed magic to lore in the fool. Once she is situated in Camelot, Merlin should be no problem. Then, you can kill the boy."

"Why me?" Gareth groaned. "You would do just as well."

"I can't return to Camelot because the old man saw me when I was killing the queen's maid."

"And Adrian?"

"He's going to take care of the dragon. Have peace, Gareth, you've got the easy job. The prince is not even old enough to hold a real sword."

True, thought Gareth, but that hadn't saved Gaheris.