Then
Em found himself woken up by Bandit licking his face just after dawn. Sighing, he rolled out of bed and headed out into the castle to find a place where his dog could do his business. Finally, a guard directed him to a servant's entrance that led out into a spacious courtyard. Bandit galloped off into some bushes while Em took a look around. The courtyard was clearly meant for the staff's use. There was a wide door that, judging from the aromatic smells coming from it, led to the palace kitchens. They probably used it to unload deliveries of food and drink. On the end opposite to the kitchen door was a small stable that Em assumed was there to house the palace's workhorses and mules. Chickens roamed the courtyard. Thankfully, Bandit was trained not to chase and kill them. Em winced at the amount of trouble that could get him into. He was in enough trouble already.
Em kicked at a stone. Last night, he tried to get ahold of his family telepathically, but they were all out of his range. He tried contacting them with the scrying mirror out of pure desperation, but that had not worked, either. Finally, he turned to his uncle Gaius for advice. Emrys was torn between letting Arthur beating him to a pulp, or actually utilizing his training and putting up a hell of a fight.
Gaius told him it was his decision to make. "Go with the choice that will not jeopardize your mission here," he said.
Now, Em still did not know what to do. His chest ached for his family and their wisdom. Hunith would make her famous mint tea, and they would sit at the table and talk it through. Will would tell him to "raise hell and damn the consequences," and Alvarr would tell him to kick Arthur's ass (ignoring that this actually happening was highly improbable). Balinor would state some old proverb in Dragonic and tell him to go with his heart. Iseldir would tell him to lose.
Maybe he hadn't been ready to leave Sábháilte—
Em's train of thought was cut off when he heard yelping and a child crying. He turned to see a man and a small boy holding a puppy at the stable entrance. The boy was crying, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Please don't kill her, Pa, she's only a baby—"
"Rak, we have three dogs at home already, and my wages don't make enough to feed you and your siblings, let alone another pup," his father snapped. He patted his son on the head and said, much more gently, "Drowning it is the merciful thing to do. She won't feel a thing."
Em, not even pausing to think, jogged over to the father and son. "Excuse me, I couldn't help overhearing. Is this your pup?"
The boy clutched the puppy to his chest and nodded tearfully.
His father said, "It's some stray my son found dying in the gutter. We haven't a use for it, so I'm going to put the poor thing out of its misery."
"I'll take it." The words were out of Em's mouth before he even knew he intended to say them.
"You sure?" The man cocked his head. "It's a scrawny thing, won't be of much use."
"My other dog is getting old. A pup might keep him young," Em lied. Bandit was reaching seven, but he was by no means elderly.
"Alright. Raf, give this lad here the pup. What did you say your name was, son?"
Em stuck out his hand. "I'm Merlin, the physician's nephew."
The man shook it. "I'm Alwyne." He turned to his son. "Raf, give Merlin here the pup."
The boy shook his head, holding the puppy close. Em crouched down to his eye level. He whistled softly. Immediately, Bandit appeared from the bushes and came to join his master. His feathery tail thumped against Em's legs.
"Raf, this is my dog Bandit. In my home village, he was the runt of the litter. But I knew one day he would grow up to be a big and strong guard dog, so I took him in. And look at him, now—isn't he glorious?"
Raf gave a timid nod. Em continued, "I promise to take good care of your puppy. She'll get to be best friends with Bandit. Doesn't that sound nice?" Raf nodded again. Finally, he held the squirming puppy out and Em gently took it. The poor thing was emaciated and filthy.
Thank you, Alwyne mouthed. "Well, we'd best be going. It's about to be a busy day."
"Tell me about it," Em said wryly. He said his goodbyes to the father and son.
Sighing, he headed back inside. Gaius is going to love this, he said to Bandit wryly.
Gaius did not love the puppy. He immediately began listing the reasons as to why Em should put the dog back "wherever he found it." One dog was enough, he said. Did Em want to turn his home into a kennel?
"Some stablehand was going to drown her," Em blurted.
Gaius blinked. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?" he grumbled. "Come here, put the poor thing on the table. Give it some stale bread and cheese."
The puppy scarfed it down and began scratching herself. She appeared to be red-colored, with feathery fur and delicate, floppy ears. Em dunked her in a bucket of soapy water and scrubbed her clean. The water was black with dirt. After he dried her off with a rag, he let her go explore a bit. Bandit followed her, interested in the small scrap Em had brought home.
"It needs a name," Gaius muttered over his morning gruel.
Em scarfed his food down. "I thought Sionnach, since she's red. It means 'fox' in Druidic."
"You'll have to take her out often and train her not to chew my things," Gaius warned.
"I know, Uncle. I trained Bandit. I can train Sionnach."
"Bandit is very well-behaved," Gaius admitted.
They watched the puppy explore under Bandit's supervision while they ate breakfast. Finally, Gaius said, "I talked to Cook. She said they need extra help in the kitchens for a feast tomorrow. You'll help serve at the feast, probably the lesser nobles," he said.
Em clenched his fists. "You mean the feast celebrating twenty years of suffering?"
Gaius set his spoon down. "I take it you heard?"
"I saw Uther announce it after they executed that poor sorcerer," Em muttered.
Gaius's eyes widened. "You saw that?"
"Yep. During my first hour in Camelot. The mother cast a teleportation spell after she told the king he would share her tears. I have never seen or heard about such a spell in all my years of study," Em said. "I could ask my uncle Iseldir. He specializes in esoteric mag—"
"Don't say that word!" Gaius hissed. Both dogs turned their heads at his outburst. Gaius sighed. "Sorry, lad. I just worry."
"I know. I should be more careful. I haven't had to hide this part of myself for years, now. It will take some time to adjust," Em admitted.
"Speaking of worrying and being careful, have you thought about your fight with the prince?" Gaius changed the subject, and Em blanched.
"I'm going to put up a fight," he said. "I'm a good swordsman, I've been training since I was eight. First with Uncle Iseldir, and then with Ruadan."
"Ruadan?" Gaius frowned.
"He shares my father's gifts, and taught me them," Em explained. He saw the understanding on Gaius's face. "Not that I've ever seen a dragon or been to the Keep."
Gaius scowled.
"Sorry," Em muttered.
Gaius hesitated, but then said, "Twenty years ago, Uther began the Purge by locking the Great Dragon up in a cavern deep below the castle."
Em dropped his spoon. It clattered loudly, starting Sionnach, Bandit, and Gaius. His eyes gleamed gold as he reached out to his uncle. Uncle Issy!
Iseldir's magic entwined with his own. His voice sounded faint. Emrys, are you alright?
Did you know Uther locked up the Great Dragon beneath his palace?
He could hear Iseldir mentally sighing. Finnlagh alerted us of this several years ago. We passed it onto Ruadan, but he said the Dragonlords already knew and that they hadn't been able to come up with a plan to free the Great Dragon.
I have to talk to him! Em's mind was racing at a million miles an hour.
It's too dangerous! You are there to observe. Leave that to our other spies in Camelot. With that, Iseldir disappeared. Em sent feelings of annoyance and irritation down their magical connection before severing it.
"What just happened?" Gaius narrowed his eyes.
"I spoke to my uncle," Em said.
"What did he say?"
"They have known. My father's…friends could not devise a plan and the dragon remains a prisoner." Em shook his head mournfully.
"Back to the fight. However good you may be, Arthur has been training since he was five, and is nearing twenty now," Gaius said. "Do not expect to win."
Em offered his uncle a crooked grin. "I don't," he said.
Gaius stood up. "I will wash the breakfast dishes. You go run that tonic"—he nodded to a vial on his worktable—"to Lady Helen. She's going to be singing at the feast tomorrow, and she requested it to soothe her throat."
"Yes, Uncle." Em tied his blue neckerchief around his neck and pulled his old boots over his socked feet. He stared at his battered shoes before sighing and running back up the stairs. He reemerged from his tiny bedroom with the new boots Daegel had given him, a clean red shirt, and his brown jacket. He wore Freya's bracelet on his wrist, and he smiled fondly at it. He missed his best friend. His face was freshly scrubbed and his untidy hair combed. When he caught Gaius staring, he explained, "I figured I should try to look nice when I make deliveries to the nobles."
"You look like a proper servant," Gaius chuckled as the boy left.
Em found the lady's chambers and knocked politely on the doorframe, as the door was open. He called out softly, but no one replied. He strode softly into the opulent room, intending to just leave the vial on a table. He saw a vanity with the largest mirror he had seen in his life. He peered at his reflection for a bit before setting the vial on a nightstand next to the four-poster bed. In the corner of his eye, he spotted something. It was a small doll with a couple pins in it. He picked it up and frowned deeply. Just holding it made his skin crawl. He sent out his magic, and it recoiled immediately. He dropped it in shock. What was this thing?
Before he could do anything, he heard footsteps coming down the hall. He put the doll back where he found it and raced towards the door. He skittered to a halt when he saw an elegantly-dressed woman standing in the doorway. "What are you doing in here?" she asked suspiciously.
"I'm the physician's assistant, milady. I was dropping off the tonic you requested. I put it on your nightstand," Em said with a slight bow.
She drifted past him. "Be on your way, then."
"Yes, milady." Em hurried out and shut the door behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief, and headed back to Gaius's chambers.
He immediately went to his bedroom to get his scrying mirror. He locked the door and mumbled the password. A few minutes later, his grandmother's concerned face appeared in the mirror. "Em!" she cried in Druidic. "Mo chara uain! How I've missed you."
"Hello, Móraí Emery," Em said in Druidic. Nature, he had missed speaking the tongue of his people these past two days. "I have a question and not much time. In a lady's chamber—I was making a delivery for my uncle-, I saw a doll with pins sticking out of it. I sensed something very dark in it with my magic. Have you any idea what it might be?"
She frowned. "I haven't the faintest idea, Em. I'll ask the other elders. Perhaps ask your mother's brother about it, your father said he is a learned man."
"I will," Em said. "I love you, Móraí Emery."
"I love you, too," Emerald said. Her image disappeared from the mirror. Sighing, he shoved it back under his straw mattress and went back downstairs.
Gaius was mashing a bunch of herbs up with a mortar and pestle. "Do you know where the training grounds for the knights are?" he asked.
Em frowned. "I don't suppose I do. What time is it?"
"Just a little past eight. I'll show you now. We can take the dogs. Can the pup walk off leash?"
"Bandit will keep her with us. He used to help herd sheep back home, he'll do the same with the pup," Em promised. "I've never leashed a dog in my life."
So they walked through the castle with Sionnach and Bandit trailing them. The pup trotted along eagerly, sniffing everything. Bandit would nose her along if they got too far behind, and he even nipped her when she tried to urinate in the hallway. Em doubted he would even need to train the pup at all; Bandit would do it for him, at this rate.
They ended up in the courtyard where Em saw the execution the day before. Gaius took his nephew to a green space off the courtyard. There was a large storage shed for training dummies and weapons. Gaius pointed to a door leading to the castle armory. A few knights sparred. The metal of their dull practice swords rang out and they glistened with sweat. Em had to admit that they looked impressive in their chain mail and red cloaks.
"Gaius, Merlin! I thought Merlin wasn't expected here until noon," a familiar voice called out. The uncle and nephew turned and saw Sir Oswald. Bandit's tail thumped loudly on the ground.
"Sir knight!" Em bowed a bit. He offered the knight a wry smile. "No, Uncle was just showing me how to get here. I'm still learning my way around the palace."
"Would you like to spar?" Oswald asked.
Em's jaw dropped. "With you, sir knight?" Even though the man was a Knight of Camelot, sparring with a knight would still be awesome.
Oswald pointed to the shed. "Go find a dulled training sword and a helm," he told the boy. Nodding eagerly, Em raced off to the shed. Bandit and Sionnach galloped after him. The knights looked at them curiously.
"I want to see how good he is," Oswald explained to Gaius.
"Maybe give him a few tips, Sir Oswald. I'm…worried about later. He's only a boy," Gaius sighed. He looked to Oswald. "After you're done with him, sir knight, would you mind telling Merlin to go to the kitchens and introduce himself to Cook?"
"Of course." Oswald patted Gaius's shoulder. "Prince Arthur will not go too hard on him."
Gaius had his doubts, but he did not voice them. "Good day, sir knight."
"Good day, Gaius," Oswald echoed.
Arthur stood in the armory as a servant named Morris fastened his training armor on him. It was made of leather, as it only needed to protect him against a dulled training sword. Sir Leon stood beside him, along with Sir Magnus, who had been born in the same year as the prince.
"You spread the word?" Arthur asked Leon.
"I did. I still don't know why you are going through all this trouble for a peasant boy," Leon replied.
"Lighten up, Leon. It will be funny. The knights deserve a good laugh," Arthur said. "You should see the lad. He's ridiculous. Biggest ears I've ever seen. They're probably bigger than his brain. He's called Merlin, I believe."
This drew a snigger from Magnus. "I bet he goes down after one hit. Who is this boy, anyway?"
"He's some servant who ran into me. Not once, but twice. What an idiot," Arthur scoffed.
Magnus poked Morris in the ribs, who frowned but stayed silent. "Do you know this Merlin, Morris?" he asked sharply.
Morris put on Arthur's gauntlets. "I heard he's the physician's nephew. Word is he's going to work in the kitchens."
"A skivvy!" Magnus snorted. "Arthur, I bet he keels over just when he sees you."
Morris finished putting on the gauntlets and handed Arthur his practice sword. "All done, sir," he murmured.
"Dismissed," Arthur said to him. Morris practically fled. "He's such a nervous thing," he commented.
"You and Magnus have been tormenting him since you two were twelve and him nine. How could he not be nervous?" Leon pointed out as they walked out the door that led to the training grounds. There, about two dozen knights were gathered. They welcomed their prince warmly, clapping him on the back and mockingly wishing him luck. By the storage shed, a boy in drab clothes lurked with Sir Oswald of all people. He held a dulled training sword in one hand. A black shepherd dog and a reddish pup sat at his feet. Now the boy had two dogs?
"Are the fleabags for your protection, Merlin?" Arthur called jeeringly. He strode to the middle of the field and waved the boy forward. Merlin murmured something to the dogs. Oswald clapped the boy on the back—did he know the boy?-, and Merlin stepped forward to meet the prince in the middle of the field.
"Just for company, milord," Merlin said. He assumed a swordsman's stance, and the knights whistled and shouted mockingly. His neck and face reddened. Arthur thought he heard the black dog growl a bit. He couldn't remember its name. It was something stupid; he knew that.
Arthur assumed a similar positon.
"Begin!" Leon shouted.
Arthur immediately swung at the boy, who dodged the blow nimbly. Arthur frowned and went in for another strike, which the boy parried. When Arthur thrust a hanging left—his best move—the boy danced out of his range. Arthur was starting to get mad. He stopped playing around and began more vicious strikes. The boy continued to parry and dodge.
"Can you only defend yourself, Merlin?" Arthur taunted. Em stopped for a second and stared at him blankly. That's when Arthur surged forwards.
Em raised his sword at the last minute when he realized Arthur was charging towards him. The two swords collided with a loud clang, making Em's arms ache. He shuffled a few steps back, constantly on the move. Never keep your feet still in a swordfight, Emrys! he heard Ruadan yell.
Arthur went in on the offensive again, going in for a feint, parry, and then attempting to disarm him by swinging with sheer force. Em nimbly deflected each of the prince's advances. When he saw the prince favoring his right side, Em went for a close left shot, managing to strike Arthur's side. The prince looked shocked. The knights began murmuring amongst themselves. Em used his surprise against him; he struck at the prince's thigh—he only wore padded breeches—and threw all his weight into the strike. The prince got knocked down, and Em pressed the tip of his sword against the prince's chest. He immediately threw the sword to the side and offered the prince a hand up.
"Good match, sire—" Em gasped when the prince yanked his arm down, sending him toppling towards the ground. Em managed to land on his stomach rather than his back. The prince got to his feet and dug his sword into Em's back. Em bit back a groan.
"You were saying, Merlin?" Prince Arthur sneered. "I should have you thrown in the stocks for that."
Em's hands curled into fists, but said nothing. He twisted his head around when he heard Oswald say, "For dueling with you, just as you had asked, milord?"
Arthur whipped around to glare at Sir Oswald. He threw aside his sword and stalked over to where the younger knight was standing. "What did you just say?"
"The boy dueled with you after you challenged him, sire. How does that merit time in the stocks?"
"He concealed the fact that he was a skilled swordsman. He could have been an assassin, for all we knew!" Arthur's argument sounded weak even to him.
The training ground grew silent. Arthur saw Merlin start to sit up. Magnus strode over and knocked the boy back down on the ground again. Merlin groaned. Several of the knights snickered, but that stopped when the black dog lunged towards Magnus, teeth bared and snarling.
"Heel, Bandit," Merlin yelled. Still growling at the knight, he heeled to his master's side.
"The dog ought to be killed for attacking a knight of the realm!" Magnus roared. Merlin got to his feet quickly.
"What did you expect, you brazen bully?" he growled. "Can't take what you dish out, milord, can you?" He whirled around and bowed mockingly to Arthur, his icy blue eyes blazing with a fury apparent to all in the training yard. "I believe I will take my leave, sire. It was a good sparring session, despite that cheap trick you pulled at the end."
Arthur sneered at the boy. "Now that is the sort of comment that will get you thrown in the stocks, boy. Guards, take him." While two members of the palace guards dragged Merlin away, he turned back to the knights. "Who wants to go to the tavern for a drink?"
Now
"Emrys, what should we do?" Adelina said.
Em blinked. "I… They are hurt badly?"
"He said one looks close to death. Carraig says he has long brown hair," Declan reported. His eyes were glowing, as Druids' did when they spoke mind-to-mind at long distances. Em assumed he was speaking to Carraig.
"We can't turn a blind eye to suffering," Em said. "Those men are my friends. I will lead a patrol to bring them back to camp."
"Those friends of yours have slaughtered our people by the dozens," Alvarr hissed. "How can you help him? What did he ever do for you?"
"I served him for four years. He's like a brother to me," Em snapped, whirling around to face his older brother. "The Purge was Arthur's doing. He has not executed a single Druid or attacked a camp in three years of his reign. I will not turn my back on him."
Alvarr straightened. "As the head of camp security, I will not allow you to let those monsters into camp," he said.
"As a Druid elder, I override you," Iseldir said.
"Uncle!" Alvarr glared at Iseldir.
"You are too young to be so full of hate. Go home to your wife, Al," Iseldir said. "For generations, our people have been known for their peaceful ways and for accepting all who seek aid from them. I will not let twenty years of darkness change this. Drink some whiskey and think on this."
Alvarr stalked off into the forest.
Adelina cleared her throat. "So, has anyone got a plan on how we are going to bring them back to camp?" she asked.
A/N: Enjoy this nearly 4000 word chapter! Thanks to everyone who continues to read, review, and favorite this fic! Much love ~