Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Chapter Four
Merlin woke to the warning bells ringing. He didn't immediately panic; as often as not, the bells rang because someone had escaped the dungeons, which typically wasn't anything that overly concerned him. But as he tried to clear the cobwebs of sleep, he couldn't think of anyone being held in the dungeons at the moment; certainly not anyone of enough importance to warrant the alarm bells.
He stumbled to the window, but all appeared normal outside. No shouts, no screaming, no fires burning.
Sighing, he grabbed his coat.
It didn't take long to ascertain that no one knew what was happening. Guards and knights moved through the halls of Camelot in search of something or someone, but as far as Merlin could tell, they were chasing shadows. He kept to the edges as he made his way to Arthur's chambers, watching and trying to put the pieces together. Every once in a while someone would yell, "Over there! I saw something!" and a group would race by, but Merlin never saw or heard them actually apprehend anyone.
"Merlin!"
He turned to see Gwaine rushing towards him, his sword in his hand. "Have you seen Arthur?"
"No, I'm headed to his chambers now." Merlin glanced over Gwaine's shoulder in that direction. "What's going on?"
"I'm not entirely sure," Gwaine admitted. "Something happened at the gate. A guard patrolling the roof saw a flash of light and sent someone to check. They found the gate open and the guards all dead, with no sign of injury."
The enchantment on the gate. Merlin cursed under his breath.
"So now there's someone somewhere in the citadel, but we don't know who and we don't know where," he surmised.
"That about sums it up," Gwaine agreed. Suddenly his eyes sharpened as he focused on something behind Merlin. "I saw something." He raised his sword, creeping towards it. "I'll take care of this. Go find Arthur."
Merlin was able to reach Arthur's chambers quickly; the halls were strangely deserted compared to when he first left Gaius's quarters. Several times, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, slipping down side corridors and around corners. Each time, he felt strangely compelled to follow after it, and he had to shake himself more than once and remind himself of his mission. He had to find the king.
"Arthur?" he called as he barged into his room, not expecting an answer. This was the obvious first place to check, but Merlin knew Arthur wouldn't stay hiding in his room if there was an emergency in Camelot. Still, Merlin took a quick look around, just on the off chance that Arthur had been attacked in his chambers. Movement outside caught his eye, and he peered out the window, then froze.
The courtyard held several guards and knights. Each one knelt, arms at his sides, back straight. In many cases, their swords lay near them on the ground. As Merlin watched, two more knights stepped cautiously out of the castle, swords drawn. Then, seeing the scene before them, they rushed down the steps, only to fall to their knees as soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Even in the dark, Merlin recognized Gwaine's hair.
He raced back into the hallway, not bothering to close the door to Arthur's chambers behind him. The way Gwaine and the other knight moved as they knelt had been so unnatural; it was magic. It had to be.
Merlin rushed down to the kitchens, taking the servants' exit out the back of the castle, and he felt it as soon as he stepped out the door. That hum of loose magic, just like Arven and the woman in the marketplace. He crept carefully, the hum of magic growing stronger as he rounded to the front of the castle.
He felt the moment the magic hit him to drive him to his knees, but he stumbled rather than fell. The enchantment was well constructed, but the power sustaining it was far weaker than his own. He only needed to nudge it with his own magic to disregard it.
Peering around the side of the castle, he saw what he feared: a sea of red capes with Arthur at the front. Lancelot and Leon both knelt near him, and Merlin spotted Percival and Elyan in the crowd as well. All of the knights of the round table. So he would have to deal with this alone.
Although perhaps that was a good thing. Merlin had freedom to do much more alone than he could with the knights around.
He took a deep breath and thought. He had planted some protective wards on the walls of the citadel over the past few days since discovering the mysterious charm on the gate. They were meant to repel an army, but this didn't seem to be a military attack, so it was unsurprising that they hadn't helped. Still, that meant he had several points of strong magic already set up. Surely he could do something with that?
Arthur might struggle to wake up in the morning, but waking to Camelot's warning bells was an entirely different matter.
He dressed as quickly as he could, fumbling into his armor by himself, and then rushed into the hallway.
"Sire," he heard Leon call, and he turned to see the knight rushing towards him.
"Report," he ordered, but Leon just shrugged helplessly.
"I haven't heard anything yet, sire. Just the bells." Leon froze, looking past Arthur. "Did you see that?"
Arthur turned around, following Leon's gaze. He opened his mouth to say no, but then he spotted it. A shadow slipping down one of the side corridors. He knew, with a certainty he couldn't explain, that this was the threat.
He glanced at Leon, and saw that he intuitively understood it as well. The two of them crept after the shape, turning down the corridor just to see it disappear around another bend.
The man was slippery, moving quickly and silently, but never quite quickly enough to completely escape them. They tracked him through hallways and downstairs, Arthur's frustration mounting that they couldn't ever seem to catch up with him. He couldn't even get a clear look at him.
They finally found themselves in the entry hall of the castle just in time to see the man disappear through the front doors. Arthur swore; if they didn't catch him in the courtyard, the man might very well get away.
But when he rushed out into the night, he found only knights and guards in the courtyard.
"Did you see him?" he demanded, grabbing one of the guards by the arm, but the man just shook his head, bewildered.
"See who?"
Arthur released him and hurried down the steps, looking around desperately as he made his way to the center of the courtyard.
And then he dropped his sword.
There were few feelings Arthur hated more than that of his sword leaving his hand against his will. Before now, he had only ever felt it in the midst of a fight, and that was bad enough. But now…his hand had just opened, without thought or intention, and the sword clattered to the ground. And before he could do more than look down in confusion, his entire body followed. He had no control over it. One moment he was standing, the next, he was on his knees.
He was king. He was not accustomed to being on his knees.
He could move his head, but only by a few inches, so he couldn't see what was happening in the courtyard behind him. But a chorus of clangs and grunts and surprised cries told him he wasn't the only one hit by the sorcery.
In some ways, he wasn't surprised to find himself under attack by magic. Ever since the encounter with the druid weeks before, part of him had been waiting for a moment like this. Magic always led to violence and conflict. Didn't it naturally follow that if he had a sorcerer nearby, violence and conflict must also be close?
But this…he hadn't expected this helplessness. This complete inability to fight back. If he was going to die, he wanted to die with a sword in his hand, defending himself. Defending Camelot. Not kneeling unarmed, waiting for an invisible enemy to come deliver the death blow.
He strained to get a better look at his men behind him, then gave up and studied the courtyard in front of him instead. There was no sign of movement, but with magic this powerful at work, surely the sorcerer couldn't be far.
"Show yourself!" he commanded to the darkness, his voice echoing through the courtyard. "Only a coward attacks from the shadows."
"Only a coward attacks innocent children because he fears what they might someday become." The voice came from his right, and it took a moment before the woman finally stepped into his line of sight, the moonlight reflecting off of her light hair and the sword in her hand. "Only a coward attacks those with power simply because they wield it, and not because they mean harm. The entire Pendragon legacy, king, is one of cowardice."
She stopped a few feet away from him, a calculating look in her eyes as she gazed at him. "Your father burned my sister, and you stood on that balcony and watched. Did you not care that your father murdered a twelve year old girl? Or were you simply too weak to defy him?"
Arthur's stomach turned, first because the woman's story was probable; Uther had executed anyone with magic, regardless of age. Arthur had indeed stood on the balcony beside his father and watched children die. Second, his stomach turned because he did not specifically remember a young girl. There had been too many executions over the years, and he had always tried to put them out of his mind as quickly as he could after. His father had assured him that nothing good came of dwelling on it. He would never forget their screams or their fear, but now he wished he had committed their faces to his memory as well.
"I was loyal to my father as king," he answered, choosing his words carefully. He wanted to be honest with her, but he must be diplomatic and clever to try to defuse the situation, if such a thing were even possible. "But though I honor his memory, I am not him. He made decisions that I believe were wrong. Executing innocent children is one of those decisions. I cannot undo what has been done, but I am sorry for what happened to her."
The woman smiled in response, a cruel smile that reminded him of Morgana. "I don't care about your apologies, Arthur Pendragon. You will pay for the crimes of your family. But that is not why I am here – spilling your blood is merely a perk. Tell me, your majesty," she asked, her smile turning from cruel to mocking, "have you found Emrys?"
Arthur tried to understand the gleam in her eyes as she asked the question. "Why do you want him? What role does he play in this?"
"Emrys is the very power of magic itself, King Arthur. If he is with us, no one can stand against us." She looked past him and called, "Search the castle. I want every living body in the citadel in this courtyard."
Arthur couldn't turn to see who she gave the command to, but he heard footsteps retreating as her accomplices left to carry out her orders.
"Don't worry, your majesty," the woman said, turning her attention back to Arthur. "If Emrys is here, we'll find him. You will know his face before you die."