A Case of Rogue Sorcerers


Deep in the night, silent footsteps didn't sound in the empty halls of the majestic castle of Camelot. A door opened, but nothing could be heard, as if the intruder was a sorcerer who had cast a wicked spell of silence on himself (probably a he). This sorcerer also definitely did not have a gigantic ego was obviously not walking through the halls as if he was king.

Of course, he really wasn't, as he didn't have the age nor the perpetual frown and no-nonsense outlook on life as the king of Camelot. Neither was he a grudge-keeping man, nor was he discriminating to any kind of people found in the realm. No, this was a logical man.

At least, that is what the future liberator liked to think as he strode through the halls of those blasted, ne'er-do-well royals whose blasted king killed his wife's cousin-in-law's uncle's sister. For that, the king's son needed to bloody die! If even a logical man such as he could come to a conclusion like that, it must be true.

So, prince Arthur –no good royal bum who never did anything to contribute to the lives of the actually working people– needed to die. Yes.

He silently ran into a pillar. Nobody could hear his cursing, courtesy of the good forethought this man had given to his night of action. Really, it was almost too easy!

He opened a door to the room his source had told him was the prince's. He opened the door, and crept into the dark, well-decorated sleeping chambers. He first slid behind a pillar, and cast a sleeping charm. His cackles of glee did not reach the prince's ears as he reminisced about the funny fact that, were he to fail in killing the prince (which he obviously wouldn't), the prince would at least have a nasty headache –a side effect of the spell.

He swooped towards the bed of his victim, and slowly rose in such a way that a potential innocent bystander would scream from the maniacal face slowly appearing above the prince's figure.

It would be perfect… Except that the figure wasn't the prince. It was the king, Uther Pendragon (that devil of a man who was a cunning tyrant as well as neglectful but still too involved and an idiot). The sorcerer's smile slid off his face. He didn't come here to kill the king! Where was the fun in that? The king needed to suffer, just as he had suffered from the loss of his wife's cousin-in-law's uncle's sister! Silently cursing, he strode gracefully out of the chambers.

It was a bit strange, the lack of guards at the king's door, but he paid it no heed. He had other things to do.

Sadly, he never got to do them before he was whacked on the head.


Arthur felt himself slowly coming to consciousness, so he groaned, annoyed at the wicked sun that made him have to rise to meet the coming day. He kept his eyes closed and stuffed his head face-first into his cushion on purpose to block the scourge of his night's rest, but eventually, he had to face the duties of the crown. So he flopped on his back and cracked one bleary eye open.

Relief flooded his system, as he saw no light, not even the half-light that signaled a new day beyond his curtains. However, the relief was short lived. While he didn't spot any light, he did spot a silhouette softly moving towards him. An assassin!

He was trained for this, and slowly, he snaked his hand towards the sword on his bedside. When he found nothing there (the assassin had done his job well, it seemed), he reached for the dagger hidden behind his cushion. Gripping the sturdy wooden hilt, he steeled himself as the assassin raised his sword in preparation of the deadly strike obviously meant for him (it was not like he allowed the castle cats in his room, so it couldn't be them).

The assassin struck, but Arthur was fast, and deflected the blade at the last possible second. He then used the minimal delay it gave the assassin to strike back. The assassin was hit in the shoulder and hissed. It was a distinctly female hiss, information which Arthur filed away in his head as he rose quickly to follow the assassin to capture her for questioning.

Her eyes glowed gold, and Arthur scrapped his earlier line of thinking. She was too dangerous and had to be killed. On the other hand, whatever information she had could be useful.

"Surrender, witch, and you may have a merciful death!" He said, although he failed to see the fun the witch saw in it.

"How are you going to stop me, your highness? With your dagger?"

He looked at his hand. The dagger had transformed into a carrot. He threw it a meter in front of the witch's feet and lunged to the right, narrowly missing a sword strike that now hit thin air.

"GUARDS!" He shouted as he grabbed hold of the panic cord in his room and pulled. There, a time-limit on the fight. Then he went for the witches legs, but she side-jumped him, and he transitioned into a smooth forward roll.

The witch laughed softly, as Arthur glared at her. She didn't seem the gloating type, but Arthur understood the meaning all the same: She didn't expect him to survive.

They'd see about that.

Arthur took cover behind his upper left bedpost, but the witch's sword bent around his bedpost, missing him by a hair. Blasted magic! He rolled onto his bed and took his sheets, waiting for an opportunity to restrain her. She jumped on the bed, standing to his kneeling, and pointed the sword at him, something he could work with. Now he only had to…

"I didn't know you were into this kind of play, Arthur!"

Arthur would have flustered, but his training prevented it. The witch, though, had never had such training and turned around, lunging towards the voice. She was stopped in midair, by very familiar magic.

"Emrys…" he ground out. "I didn't take you for the subtle assassination type either."

"Well, luckily for you, I'm not." Emrys stepped out of the shadows, and snapped his fingers. His eyes glowed gold, Arthur gritted his teeth and the witch fell to the floor, unconscious.

"So you're the showy type then, sorcerer, here to finish me off with fireworks?" Arthur said condescendingly. "Or is it you that has some secret desires?" Arthur finished with a victorious stare.

"Well, I do have secret desires… sire..." Emrys made sure the last word was very drawn out, as he slowly inched closer towards the witch and Arthur.

"But not romantically involving you. Have you seen the lady Morgana? You simply don't compare!" Emrys sniggered.

Arthur's eyebrow twitched upwards. "I will tell her you said so." This was information he could use.

"Planning to use that against me?" Merlin glanced sideways, before leaning in conspiratorially. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"When I was four," He started, "I did my very first act of evil. I secretly broke the window of my house."

"And how is that evil, sorcerer." Arthur humored the sorcerer. "When I was four, I broke a lot more than windows."

"Ah," Emrys crooned. "But did you do it with magic?" Arthur looked at the man questioningly. What was he trying to prove here?

"Nothing, of course." Could the sorcerer read his mind? Was he cursed or under a wicked spell?!

"No. You just make it very, very easy." The sorcerer straightened and moved towards the fallen witch.

The fallen witch! Arthur shot upwards immediately, and went for his spare sword in the closet. Why were the guards not here yet?! He turned towards Emrys, and brandished his sword.

"What have you done to the guards?!"

"Who, me? Seriously, milord, if I wanted to kill the guards, I would have done so that day I graciously presented myself in front of the court."

"That was just a ploy of yours, wasn't it, practitioner of magic?" Arthur had learned that sorcerers always had plans within plans.

"I'll have to disappoint you, sire. They were gone when I came in." Gone? Dead?

"Why should I trust you. I know these assassin types. They only make a mess after their job is done."

"Who said she has done it?" Emrys said, grinning.

"Well, who else would do it if not you!" Arthur frowned.

"The men I stowed into Uther's cupboard, perhaps? Or the novice who, for some reason, didn't kill the king?" Emrys said, counting the people off on his fingers.

"You're not serious!" Arthur cried out (silently, of course).

"But I am, Arthur. There's been a strange increase in wicked magicians lately, though I have no idea why. Neither do I get why so many of them are idiots."

Emrys shifted the witch on his other shoulder.

"Two proficient ones doesn't happen very often." He finished.

"Emrys." Arthur drawled. Somehow, it felt almost natural to say it that way. "Are you implying you do this every night?" Arthur smirked.

"Well, not every night, no." Emrys mediated.

Arthur moved in and held the sword to the sorcerer's throat. "In the name of the King, I arrest you for gaining illegal entrance to the King's castle!" Then he added: "And don't you deny it."

Emrys sputtered. "But, but I saved your life, you prat!" Arthur smirked victoriously.

"Which is why I didn't arrest you for tonight, obviously." Emrys rolled his eyes.

"You know, you deserve a completely new word just for that."

"You'll have some time to think about one. In the cells." Arthur said.

"Before you execute the wicked sorcerer that just saved your life, you mean." Emrys accused.

Arthur winced slightly. "Law is law, and you're not above it. You should have thought of the consequences before you started sorcery." Arthur explained, lightly apologetic. The magician was right, loathe as he was to admit it.

Emrys murmured something under his breath. Arthur could make out the word 'mother'.

"Move, sorcerer." Emrys frowned at him questioningly. Arthur corrected himself.

"Move, Emrys. To the cells."

"Why would I go with you?" Emrys asked, suddenly smug.

"Well, because I am holding a…" Arthur looked down.

"An apple on a stick?" Emrys offered. Arthur groaned. He was so sick of this.

"Well, it seems it's nearly dawn. I should go back to my house, before the guards wake up." Arthur looked at his curtains, and saw that the room was indeed getting brighter. He closed his eyes in frustration.

With a chuckle, the sorcerer took the witch and disappeared.


"Why did you want to see me, father?" Arthur saluted dutifully as he approached the king.

"Arthur! The sorcerer Emrys has struck again! This morning, I woke up with a pounding headache and two men inside my closet, both instances no doubt because of the sorcerer! When I tried to leave my room, I was contained in the doorpost as by magic!"

"I can see that, father." Arthur said. Indeed, Uther was hovering a bit above the entrance to his room, unable to move all but his head.

"This cannot continue! He must be stopped." The king raged.

"I see your point, father." The sorcerer certainly had to be stopped, an open mockery of this kingdom's laws hurt it's reputation. "But I cannot do so now, father."

"What did he do!" Uther said in quiet fury.

"He saved my life, father."

"A ploy, Arthur, surely you can see that! No doubt the sorcerer out for your life was sent by him."

"It was a woman, father. He knocked her unconscious and took her with him." Arthur informed his father, leaving out some other things.

Uther's eyes blazed. "The fiend! No doubt this man is a depraved animal. I will have his head on a pike! Arthur, my son, get yourself three- no four!- squadrons of guards and get me his head!"

"That's the other thing, father. The guards are all enchanted and won't wake until next week, Gaius informed me."

"The fiend!" Uther struggled to contain his temper. "He will not get away with humiliating me! Send for the Witchfinder!"


I have not watched Merlin for a while, so give criticism where criticism is due. I hope it was funny enough.

Next: A witchfinder fails in getting Emrys burned.

This happens relatively late in this story's timeline (for this story's 'first series').

No.311