It was nearly a full day of worried walking before Merlin and Gwaine chanced upon someone who knew something.
The older man stood out in front of his little cottage, and waved when he saw them coming. Merlin gave him a brief smile as they drew closer, and Gwaine raised his arm in a choppy short of wave.
"Same question again?" Gwaine suggested to Merlin, smiling. Of course. They'd asked everyone they'd come across the same questions.
"Good morning," Merlin said. "Have you seen anyone unusual passing by? A blond man, maybe, or someone headed towards or away from Camelot?"
"Good morning," the man replied, coming forward. "Why? Are you looking for someone?"
Merlin nodded. "My friend. But I don't know where's he's gone, so we're trying to track him."
"A knight, trying to track him?" The man looked over Gwaine suspiciously. "Must be a pretty important friend."
"He is," Merlin agreed immediately.
The old man seemed to think this over, rubbing his white head. Gwaine was jumpy and impatient, wanting to demand the man tell what he knew now, but Merlin gestured for him to stand down.
"I haven't seen a blond man," said the man, "but for unusual people headed towards Camelot, I saw some members of the Mortdestin."
"Some what?"
"They're a little like Druids," the man said. "But not as peaceful, I suppose. Anyway, that's unusual, isn't it? Druid people – three men, to be exact – passing by on their way to Camelot? I wondered to myself, what does a Druid want to go to Camelot for?"
Merlin nodded. "What for?" he agreed. Druids but less peaceful? Was this man telling the truth, and if so, why hadn't Merlin ever heard of them?
"I thought they might be up to something, since Mortdestin always are. But I decided just to let them go past without…"
"How long ago was that?" Merlin called.
"About a day ago? Two?" The man looked confused.
Merlin thought this over. About the right timeframe.
"Thank you, sir," called Gwaine, seeing that Merlin was too deep in thought to think of saying it. He tossed the man a coin – why not? – took his friend by the arm, and led him away.
They went back into the woods, still walking. "Merlin?" Gwaine ventured at last. "Are you awake in there, mate?"
Merlin looked up at him and nodded. "That's the most useful information we've gotten all day. I've never heard of Mortdestin."
Gwaine nodded. "And what are we going to do with the useful information?"
Merlin's eyebrows rose.
"Well, it's not like the old man gave us directions or anything."
"No, you're right," agreed Merlin. "Here's what we're going to do: sleep."
"What?"
"It's getting dark anyway," Merlin said, looking around at the trees. "We should stop for the night. Can't look if we can't see anything."
Gwaine looked surprised. He'd just assumed that Merlin would look until he fell over from exhaustion. But Gwaine had promised not to ask questions – though he had no intention of keeping that promise, really, honor code or no – so he just nodded. "Alright," Gwaine said. "We don't have any blankets or anything, though."
Merlin shrugged. "We're roughing it until we find the king."
"Ah."
Merlin waited until Gwaine was sleeping on the uncomfortable, rocky ground before he got up and snuck away to talk to the dragon.
Once he found a field big enough, he called out to the Great Dragon, sat back, and waited.
Soon enough he felt the air pressure changing around him as giant wings beat down, letting Kilgharrah land down beside Merlin. The dragon tilted his head up and gave what might have been a draconic smile.
"Young warlock," he greeted Merlin. "It has been a while. What manner of trouble have you gotten yourself into now?"
Merlin sighed. "Arthur's missing."
"You've lost the king," the dragon said, sounding slightly amused.
"No, he disappeared," Merlin said. "Almost without a trace. He just left some small bloodstains on his floor, and I know magic was involved. Otherwise, I don't know where to look."
Kilgharrah arched his neck. "Then what do you know, young warlock?"
"I did talk to a man, who said that some members of some Druid group called the Mortdestin had passed by at about the same time—"
Kilgharrah interrupted by letting out a puff of air as he jerked back. "The Mortdestin?" he repeated. "They are no Druid group, Merlin, and if they are your foes, I fear your situation is grave."
Merlin was getting used to the half-statements and riddles the dragon loved to spout. "What are they, then?"
"They are the opposite of a Druid, the death of destiny."
"Lovely," said Merlin. "But Arthur is in trouble, so please, speak plainly."
"They are a faction that has broken off from the Druids. But where the Druids are peaceful, hold the prophecies, and are only interested in facilitating destiny, the Mortdestin do not believe that prophecies will make the world better. Rather, they believe that fate should be thwarted by any means possible."
"Why haven't I ever heard of them?"
"They are a small but active group," the dragon told him. "You never came across them before."
"But what does this have to do with…"
"If the Mortdestin have discovered of your destiny as Emrys or Arthur's as the Once and Future King, then the king is in great danger."
Merlin felt something a little like pain but a lot closer to fear take up residence in his chest. It pushed out the worry that had just been in there before as he searched for Arthur. "What will they do? Kilgharrah? What will they do if they have him and they know who he is?" Merlin knew the answer, but he had to hear it aloud, and he couldn't say it himself.
The world stood still just for Merlin's benefit until the dragon answered, ducking his head, "They will kill him."
The fear solidified. Merlin took a deep breath. "Where can I find them? Where do they stay? I need to find them quickly, Kilgharrah!"
The dragon nodded his head. "Indeed you do, young warlock. Very quickly."