Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin
Chapter Five
Lancelot watched as the sorceress's three companions ushered a few more people into the courtyard. They appeared to be servants, although he didn't think he knew any of them personally. Each time they led someone out, the woman would study them for a moment, then shake her head before forcing them to their knees with the rest.
His breath caught when he saw a familiar flash of white hair; Gaius stumbled as they led him to the woman, and Lancelot felt a rush of fear. Gaius may not be Emrys, but Lancelot knew he had a bit of magic of his own. And if this woman could sense the power of Emrys on people like the druid had, then she might sense Gaius's magic and sense Merlin's presence and misinterpret what she found.
And if she did, there was nothing Lancelot could do about it. Struggle as he may, the magic held tight. His knees were sore from the hard ground and his back ached from holding the same posture for so long, but no amount of struggling made any difference against the enchantment.
The woman did gaze at Gaius for longer than she had the others, but in the end she shook her head, and Lancelot felt a pang of rage when Gaius flinched in pain as he hit his knees.
But the good news was that Gaius was alone. Wherever they had found him – presumably his quarters – they had not found Merlin. Which meant Merlin was still out there somewhere, hopefully figuring out a way to get them out of this.
Lancelot watched as the sorceress spoke with her companions, then approached Arthur again. Lancelot was only a few feet from the king, allowing him a clear view of the satisfied smile on the woman's face.
"The castle is empty, king," she said. "Do you know what that means?"
Arthur didn't answer, but the woman didn't seem to expect him to.
"It means that Emrys is not here." She gazed up at the castle, looking serene and content now. "I did not understand how a sorcerer could serve a Pendragon. And I certainly could never understand how a sorcerer of the power and importance of Emrys could serve a Pendragon. But if he has abandoned you, then the time of the prophecy has come, and there is yet hope that he will ally himself with his own." Her voice turned soft, reverent. "Magic will rise again in Camelot." She directed her eyes back down to Arthur, and for the first time that night, she lifted her sword, the point resting against Arthur's throat. "You will not live to see it, I'm afraid. A land of magic is no place for a Pendragon or his knights."
Lancelot's eyes widened in alarm and he tried to look around the courtyard. Where was Merlin? But the night was perfectly still; there was no sign of his wily friend sneaking through the shadows.
He turned his gaze back to Arthur. For a moment, the king stared hard at the hand holding the sword, then he lifted his gaze and met the woman's eye. He sat motionless with the blade at his throat, not even swallowing, but his eyes blazed. "Kill me if you must, but let the others go. Your vengeance is against me. There is no need for harm to come to the knights or any other person you've drawn out here tonight."
The woman chuckled. "Your knights are famously loyal to you, king. The new age of Camelot will begin with a clean slate. But since you sought mercy for them, perhaps I'll consider killing you first instead of making you watch them die." The woman pressed slightly with the sword, and blood began to drip down Arthur's neck.
Damn it, Merlin! Where was he? There was no way he would willingly stand back while Arthur's blood was spilled.
And yet, Lancelot had to believe that he was nearby, even if he couldn't see him. And as helpless as Lancelot felt, he realized there was something he could do.
He could buy Merlin just a little more time.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
He wasn't sure who looked more surprised at his words – the woman or the king. The sorceress pulled back just slightly, and Lancelot could see the smudge of blood on the tip of the sword where it had cut Arthur.
"Who are you?" The woman asked, stepping away from Arthur and closer to him.
"Sir Lancelot," he said, "Knight of Camelot." He felt the small thrill of pride that always came when he said those words.
"Aren't you brave," the woman said, looking down at him in amusement. "Even when you can do nothing, you still try to protect your king. Tell me, Sir Lancelot, Knight of Camelot – why shouldn't I kill him?"
"Because you will face the fury of hell if you do," he answered honestly, and the woman laughed.
"Fury from whom? Look around you, sir knight – the power of Camelot is literally on its knees!"
Lancelot smiled. "Fury from Emrys."
The woman scoffed. "Emrys has fled."
"I don't know much about prophecies, and I know even less about magic. But the man you call Emrys? I know him as well as I know myself. And believe me, he has not abandoned us. He has not abandoned Arthur." Saying the words aloud filled him with hope, and he felt his smile widen into a grin.
"And yet he is not here," the woman pointed out dryly. "What other conclusion can we draw?"
Lancelot shook his head. "It is not in him to flee. His is both courageous and loyal. He will protect Arthur until his dying breath."
His eyes unwillingly flickered to Arthur to see the king gaping at him, and the brief distraction caused him to miss the change in the woman. When he looked back, her mild amusement had turned to determination.
"We will find Emrys," she said, stepping back to Arthur, "but the time has come for the Pendragon king to pay the price for his crimes."
Lancelot could do nothing but watch in horror as she swung her blade. It flew through the air toward the king's throat, and then…
And then, about a foot away from Arthur, the blade flew back, as though the sword had hit a solid wall. The woman's eyes flew open in shock, her hand losing its grip on the weapon as it rebounded backwards. The sword flew through the courtyard, landing with a clatter several feet behind her.
Merlin had done something. Thank the gods.
One of her companions ran forward to collect the sword and bring it to her, but the woman did not immediately turn her attention back to Arthur. Instead, she reached out a tentative hand and then abruptly stopped. Her fingers danced in front of her, and Lancelot did not for the life of him know what she was doing.
Then she whispered a few words and her eyes flashed gold, and something like sparks shot from her fingertips. They did not fly like a weapon; instead, they drifted, almost like smoke. And as Lancelot watched, the sparks seemed to hit a barrier, forming a glittery wall between the woman and themselves. The wall went several feet above her head and spanned at least twenty feet wide before it faded away.
"Incredible," she whispered, and Lancelot was surprised to hear awe in her voice. She turned to her companions. "It's a solid shield," she said, pressing her hand against it. "It doesn't just repel magic. I can't even reach through it."
One of them, a tall and angular man, stepped forward cautiously, eyeing the crowd. "Then he's here?" he asked, tightening his grip on his own sword.
The woman shook her head, still focused on the wall. "I don't know. It feels…" she frowned for a moment, focusing. "It feels stable. I'm not sure he's holding it. I think…" she trailed off again, taking a step back and looking at the edges of the wall. "I think it's anchored," she said finally. "I think it's anchored on objects."
The man stared at the woman incredulously. "You're saying he not only created an impermeable shield of this size, he then anchored that shield to objects and just walked away?"
The woman nodded slowly, studying the wall as she walked along it. "Yes," she said in a dazed voice. "That's what I'm saying."
Lancelot felt an unexpected surge of pride in Merlin. He was always impressed when Merlin did magic, no matter how simple. After all, he had nothing to compare it to. But these people knew magic, and hearing the awe in their voices made him realize just how powerful Merlin really was.
The woman reached the end of the wall, studying it critically, and made to step around it, stumbling when she tried to put her foot down. Then her eyes grew wide and she reached out a hand again, pressing against what Lancelot could only assume was another invisible shield. She stepped back, looking up at the sky and around the courtyard. Holding her hands open at her sides, she spoke another incantation, sending sparks not just in front of her as she had before, but throughout the courtyard and beyond. And as the sparks settled on the shields, it became evident what Merlin had done.
Lancelot laughed. He couldn't help it.
The warlock hadn't simply set up shields between the woman and his friends. He had essentially placed the woman and her companions in a pathway that led straight out of the courtyard. Beyond that, Lancelot could see the tops of more shields elsewhere in the citadel.
Not just a path out of the courtyard, then – unless he was mistaken, it was a path out of Camelot.
To his surprise, the woman laughed too, a laugh that seemed to be full of wonder.
"I've never seen such a thing," she said. "To have built and anchored one shield of that size was impressive, but this…"
Her companions did not seem to share her awe. They tightened their grips on their weapons, looking around nervously.
"He's giving you the chance to walk away," Lancelot called out to them. "You should take it."
The woman chuckled again, then finally tore her gaze away so that she could make eye contact with Lancelot through the glittering wall. "Perhaps we should, sir knight," she agreed. "Perhaps we should." With one last dazed survey of the passageway, she turned and waved the others over to her. "Until next time, king," she called over her shoulder as she led them away. But she seemed too delighted by the magic around her to sound sufficiently threatening.
Moments after they disappeared from the courtyard, the enchantment released and Lancelot fell forward, his back protesting the sudden lurch after having been frozen in place for so long.
Around him, people began sitting down or standing up, thankful to no longer be kneeling, but all eyes drifted back again and again to the sparkling walls.
They were quite beautiful, really.
Beauty in the courtyard, no one had died, and Camelot was not overthrown. All around, Lancelot felt there was plenty to smile about.
And then he saw the king watching him.
AN: True confession: I struggled like crazy with chapters 4 and 5 of this story, especially with the pacing and describing the magic. I could picture it perfectly in my head, but my initial descriptions just sounded ridiculous. I want to thank everyone who reviewed chapter 4 - it really encouraged me as I fought with chapter 5! Hopefully it didn't disappoint!