Chapter 9 – No Other Medicine But Only Hope
The feeling of being cold woke him. Merlin was shivering violently so he was confused to find himself wet all around. His mind was clouded, pain ran through his body in waves.
He sat up with difficulty and grabbed at the sorest spot on himself. It was on his chest and when he felt it his fingers came in contact with damaged skin. He forced himself to open his eyes though even the light seemed to hurt.
The wound was blackened and rough and the edges were greenish where some sort of pus was oozing out of it. He let out a groan as his sensory nerves reacted to the touch.
He was wide awake and on his feet within a moment as he tried focusing on one thing: 'I shouldn't let myself go'.
He ran out of his room.
Most of the patients had been moved to other parts of the castle where there was more room for them. Only four had remained, those that were in the worst shape. Those that had been brought in first, including the little boy.
When Merlin looked around, he caught Gwen's gaze. She slowly shook her head. The little boy that lay in front of her was dead. The little boy that lay in front of her was dead, almost half of his small frame was covered in those dreaded black wounds, like his body had rotted away. And maybe it did. The first death. And the other three wasn't far behind him.
"Did he…?" He started but he already knew the answer.
Gwen shook her head again.
"No, he was unconscious for the most part of it." She said.
Three days was all it took. The weaker ones lost consciousness for good after a few hours, others held out for a day before passing out permanently. The pain was just too great to bear.
He understood what that meant. He had precious little time left to do something. He was stronger than the rest of them but he had one and a half days, or probably two at best. After that he'd be good for nothing.
Gaius was sleeping on his table with an open book under his head. The poor old man had hardly got any sleep since the outbreak of the disease.
He ran up to the physician and shook him, who in turn tried to open his eyes and looked up to Merlin. He was confused at first but then his glance wandered slowly downwards and stopped on the young man's chest. The wound was small, no more than a size of a coin just under a similarly shaped white old scar; the reminder of his battle with Nimueh.
"Merlin! No!" He shouted and his eyes went wide with concern. He got on his feet faster than ever and reached for the potion that he gave to every patient. The one that helped enhancing the blood flow. It didn't do much, but it was better than nothing. Better than feeling utterly useless. "What happened yesternight?"
"I saw it. It attacked a woman." He said trying to think clearly. "No, wait. It didn't actually attack, only stood there. I looked at it, it looked at me and then…. it disappeared."
"And have you tried…? " The physician didn't know how to ask the question with Gwen in the room, so he prayed than Merlin would understand. And he did.
"Yes. It didn't work". He drank the potion half-heartedly, and went back to his room to put on a shirt. "I have to go to Arthur now to make sure he's alright. It's already midday and he hasn't sent for me yet."
Gaius only nodded but Merlin could see the question in his eyes. The one that asked him about his plans and feared that he didn't have one.
"If it's a dragon…" The youth said cryptically looking over at Gwen who had her back to them, but still within earshot. "…then the answer is a dragon."
Gaius's gaze followed the young man who had become the most important person in his life in the two years he had known him. He wished he would have been of more help now because he knew Merlin looked at him for guidance even if he didn't take all his advices to heart.
He had to believe in Merlin's power and wit. He had run out of ideas and his medicinal knowledge was useless, but there was still something he could be good for. The hard work he did for Camelot on a daily basis and the lack of recognition for it were taking their toll on the young sorcerer and the physician had to make sure he didn't lose heart.
Destiny, the future of Albion and Arthur were his faith. Gaius had to be his guide, the rock he could lean on when he felt weary. He had to be his strength.
When he entered Arthur's chambers without knocking and saw him lying on top of the sheets still partially dressed with his armour beside him he knew that something was wrong.
He ran to the bed and shook him. When he didn't even stir, Merlin panicked.
"Arthur, wake up!" He looked at his right arm and recognized the wound. He had seen enough of these in the past few days to know that it meant that Arthur had got the disease too. And now he knew that it also meant certain death. "Arthur, please, you have to wake up!" He slapped him lightly a few times.
"Leave me alone." The prince moaned as he tried to come to his senses and his manservant could imagine the pain he was feeling. He felt something similar himself.
Merlin helped his master sit and took out a vial which he had gotten from Gaius from his pocket.
"Come on, drink this."
"You'll be the death of me, Merlin." Arthur slurred but obeyed.
"And now we'll take a walk. That'll wake you up. On your feet, Sire." Merlin put the future king's arm around his own shoulder to make him get up, but it felt like he was carrying dead weight and after the first tentative step they both fell back on the bed.
He tried again and this time they could take a walk around the bed slowly, and then another and another until Arthur could walk on his own.
"Enough, I'm alright. See?" It seemed that with his physical strength returning his brain started functioning somewhat normally, although slower than usual. He didn't know if it was thanks to Gaius' potion or his servant's insistence on walking but he was grateful.
Merlin knew that Uther would find out that his son, the sole heir to his throne had gotten the disease but the thought of him having to break it to him didn't seem appealing to him. It turned out for once he was lucky.
"I want breakfast, now, I'm famished. And then I'm off to see my father. We still have a sorcerer to question." Arthur managed to resume some tone of normalcy, but Merlin only stared at him agape. "Today would be nice."
"Right! Yes, Sire!" He roused from his thoughts and went to the kitchen to get something nutritious enough for the prince. He'd need all the strength he could keep to stay on his feet.
The little band decided to slow down their horses to a slow trot. They were only about two hours away from Camelot and it wasn't even midday so they weren't in any hurry.
Count Sichar and Rathar led the party talking quietly among each other, the princess and Count Bertram followed them closely, Alan, Sichar's manservant, and Gisela, Hilde's maid ended the line.
They had been travelling for five days now, and the royal girl who had never been away from the comforts of the castle she lived in for more than a day was definitely starting to regret that she had requested to join them.
On the first day of their journey they had reached the big water at late afternoon and they had boarded a merchant ship to cross it. It had taken only six hours but those hours she would never forget as long as she breathed and her stomach would always turn at the mere thought of it. She had put on a brave face to not show the others how it had affected her though, because no one had complained.
She had been thanking the Gods that her tiny feet had touched solid ground once more when they had finally arrived, riding a horse was so much more comfortable to her. She already dreaded the way back.
But now that they had been travelling for three and a half days with very few rests she was becoming restless and the parts of her that didn't hurt were becoming fewer by the minute.
Alan's and Gisela's faces contorted with pain now and then but they were servants and servants weren't allowed to voice their discomforts, at least not publicly and Hilde assumed that Sichar, Bertram and Rathar were accustomed to these trips.
The princess shifted slightly to ease the pressure on her sore bottom. It did little to decrease her growing pain, but she would have been damned if she had said anything. The last sentences she wanted to hear was the 'I told you so' or the 'this kind of thing is not for a Lady'.
"When will we arrive?" she asked to test the waters if maybe she could coax the blond leader into calling for a rest.
"Why, are you tired, Mylady?" He didn't turn back but the smirk was evident in Count Sichar's voice.
"No." she almost shouted when she realized her mistake. "I just thought we shouldn't slow down if we want to arrive as soon as possible. We were making good progress." Her dignity was the last thing she would give up and that wouldn't come soon. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
"The Sun hasn't even reached its peak on the horizon, it would be rude to ask for hospitality at lunchtime, my princess. You surely don't want us to interrupt the king while he's eating and get on his bad side?"
"Of course not." Hilde didn't know what else to say so she remained silent for the remainder of their trip.
The tension between them was evident in the air and Rathar looked at his friend trying to understand what was going on but didn't comment on it. There would be a more proper place and time for that, he thought. When they would be alone.
"So does she know about the druid?" He asked quietly instead.
"I told her about him and our non-existent plan so far where rescuing is concerned when we were on the ship, but I doubt she was listening. I think she was preoccupied by other, more pressing matters." Sichar laughed. "I can only hope that some of it made through to her subconscious somehow. I really don't like to tell anything twice."
That was true. Rathar knew for a fact that his friend was not the most patient kind of person in the world. When it came to intelligence, he had high expectations of those who followed him, he didn't tolerate slowness well. His friends always find that particular trait in him quite funny, because he himself often liked to play dumb, and he generally made people think he was a half-wit.
"What about Alan and Gisela?"
"Alan knows everything, I clued him in after your visit to Lamain, he will be able to communicate with the servants of the castle. He might be invaluable to us even though he doesn't have magic. I don't know about Gisela. If Hilde tells her it's fine, she can be trusted, but I don't think there's any need for her to know."
Rathar nodded and looked straight ahead just in time to see the great towers of Camelot coming into view. He sighed audibly and turned to his friend.
"I just hope Regno saw the future and not the past or the present because if the druid man was captured a week or more ago, he is surely dead by now."
Count Sichar didn't reply, but his gaze darkened. He considered that possibility every time they came here. Every time there was a good chance that they would arrive too late or worse, just in time to catch the execution. He knew they couldn't save every single soul from Uther's wrath and after every person they rescued the guards were doubled. Uther was furious that all the security changes he was making continued to fail, but the Count knew that with every change made, the risks they were taking grew with them.
But now that they would be inside the castle their chances altered considerably. Whether it would be for better or for worse he couldn't guess, this could go either way.
And here was Hilde. They would have to protect her as well. Like they needed another burden added to their already existing ones.
When they entered the gates of the great city after showing their papers to the outside guards the sight that greeted them wasn't the one they were used to. The streets were almost empty despite the usually busy hour, the market was closed and the air was filled with something entirely indescribable. It was unsettling to say the least but he had a feeling that they would find out its cause very soon.