A chill breeze brought doubt and unrest the next morning, in spite of the bright sunlight. Upon waking, Arthur found himself presented with more porridge for breakfast. He thanked Hunith, and she smiled at his sincerity. When he finished, Morgana approached him and addressed him quietly.

"I am sorry if I have done something to offend you more than usual," she said.

Arthur glanced at her in confusion. "I don't know what you mean," he said. "You're certainly irritating, but no more than usual." That was a lie, of course. In the final years of her life, 'usual' for Morgana had come to mean evil, more often than not. However, his words were true for this Morgana, he supposed.

She smiled at him, and there was no trace of malice or hate in the expression. "Then you must be very worried for Merlin," she said. When he raised his eyebrows, she elaborated. "You have been awfully quiet and strange these past few days. Why, you haven't even called Merlin an idiot once during the entire trip, that I've heard, and you've hardly looked at me."

Arthur looked away. Concern for Merlin was not what had him acting so strangely, of course, but it would be still be a lie to say that he didn't care a great deal about his manservant. Morgana took his silence as confirmation of her guess and grinned teasingly at him. There was surprising warmth in her voice when she spoke.

"I never would have suspected that you could grow so close to a servant, Arthur," she said, watching him with calculating eyes. "Even when you saved him from that poison, you were still repaying a debt. I suppose you do have a heart, after all. I am impressed." Her words were lightly mocking, but he heard the admiration beneath the words.

A rush of memories flashed through Arthur's mind: Morgana crying for him because of a dream she had about his death, Morgana saving Mordred because she did not want an innocent child to die, Morgana unable to watch any time Uther executed a sorcerer, and here, Morgana helping Merlin save his village even though she had no reason to be here except compassion.

"Uther should have sent knights to help this village, but at least Merlin has you, and that counts for at least a few knights," she said softly, giving him a genuine smile. Arthur was taken aback. Even before she had turned against Camelot, a compliment from Morgana had been a rare thing.

Before he could reply, a cry rent the air outside.

They both ran outside. A dusky brown gelding rode into the village: Michael's horse, that he had ridden out on patrol. Michael's body lay on top of the horse, still in the saddle but with an arrow in his back.

Arthur directed a few men to get Michael down from the horse, and they found a note wrapped around the shaft of the arrow that had killed him.

"Make the most of this day. It will be your last," Arthur read. More words were cut off by a scream, as a woman coming out of a home down the street saw Matthew's body.

"Matthew! No, no, no!" she screamed, and Arthur felt shame and anger wash through him. He should have remembered that this would happen! This man had not needed to die. As though echoing his thoughts, another voice rang out in the cold air.

"You did this!" Will approached Arthur and pointed accusingly at the men hauling Matthew away for burial. "Look what you've done! You've killed him!"

Arthur flinched from Will's voice, knowing it was true, but Merlin rose to his defense. "It wasn't his fault," Merlin said, standing up for Arthur as he always had.

Of course, Will would not be calmed by platitudes. "If he hadn't been strutting around, treating us like his own personal army, this would never have happened!" Will yelled back.

This accusation finally made Arthur angry. This death was his fault, but only because he had been too focused on other things to remember it would happen. However, these men were defending their homes, and death was a small price to pay for the right to live in peace.

"These men fight for their homes and their freedom," he said, his voice commanding attention from all assembled. "Sometimes, yes, that means death, but some men would rather face death then live long lives in servitude. If you do not feel the same, then you are not obligated to fight."

Will glared, but did not respond. Briefly, Arthur felt ashamed of his words. This boy had given his life for Arthur and kept Merlin's secret as well for the sake of friendship, even if it meant a black mark would forever hang over his death. He was hardly a coward. Still, Arthur would not let anyone disparage the fight that was to come. These men needed strength and hope, not fear.

When Will stormed away in anger, Merlin followed at his back, sending one apologetic glance Arthur's way before they disappeared behind the door to one of the small homes.

Pushing aside his own conflicting feelings, Arthur turned to the rest of the villagers. "There will be time for grief tomorrow when the battle is won," he said, "and after that there will be years to remember the honor and your courage with which you will protect your home with pride. For now, we must keep training."

Several minutes later, the men were once more assembled in the center of town with their makeshift weapons. Most of them had improved a bit, but they were still far from being soldiers. A few still even had trouble holding their weapons correctly. As Arthur walked through the men, correcting their stances, re-teaching the previous day's lesson to the slower men, and showing the swifter learners a few more complex strikes, Morgana and Gwen were busy with their own task.

They went through the women, finding those who wished to fight with their husbands, fathers, and brothers, and collecting them in a group near the men. They had managed to scrape together enough farming tools with hard sides or sharp edges to outfit each woman with a weapon of some sort, and once everyone had something in her hands, Morgana took control of their training. Throughout the morning, Arthur chanced glances every so often at the women, in between lessons to the men. Morgana used Gwen for many of her demonstrations, and Gwen withstood it with determination that belied her usual sweet nature. In this Gwen, he could see the woman who would one day be his queen, whom he would trust implicitly to rule with a just and wise but firm hand whenever he was away.

Morgana, on the other hand, was surprisingly adept in her instructions to the woman. Arthur had forgotten that she used to fight with a blade rather than with magic, and that even before she let madness consume her, she had still disdained the trappings that constrained most High-born Ladies, learning to fight with the men as a child and getting into just as many scrapes as her brother during their youth. It had only been during the past few years that she had begun donning pretty dresses of her own free will, though even those she often wielded like weapons against the men at court. Watching her, Arthur remembered how he had once admired and loved her unquenchable spirit.

Later that afternoon, Arthur allowed the men a break and sat by Hunith's door, sharpening his sword to ensure that it would be at peak condition for the coming fight.

"William's father was killed fighting for King Cenred, so he doesn't trust anyone of nobility," Merlin said, sitting down next to Arthur.

It took a moment for Arthur to remember what Merlin was talking about, but when he did, he sighed. He would have to find a way to save that boy. Putting aside his sword, he figured this was as good a chance as he was going to get to speak with Merlin about using magic against Kanen's men. An idea struck him, inspired by his earlier conversation with Morgana.

"He doesn't want to see any of his people die," Arthur said. "That is an understandable position. However, I have been getting the feeling that I'm not the only one he isn't pleased with."

Merlin sat up straighter and gave Arthur a nervous look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Arthur said, picking his words carefully, "there's always been something rather different about you, Merlin."

"That's cause I'm a clumsy idiot, I thought," Merlin joked, grinning in a way that meant he was hiding something.

"Well yes, you are that," Arthur said, bumping Merlin's shoulder with his own. "But there's something else, too." He hurried on before Merlin could distract him with more jokes. "I've noticed how close you and Will are, and I'm guessing he knows that you could help more than you let on." Now Merlin was looking extremely worried. "I know why you don't tell me, and I won't make you say it, but Merlin? Do you remember why my father wouldn't send any of his men to help?"

Merlin looked thrown by the sudden apparent non sequitur, but answered anyway, in a halting voice. "Because Ealdor isn't… a part of … Camelot…." Merlin trailed off as the meaning of Arthur's question sunk in.

"That's right," Arthur said, keeping his tone neutral. "So, if I were to, say, see something that would be against the law in Camelot? Well, I would have no reason to report it to my father if it happens way out here outside his borders."

Arthur stood up, his voice returning to its usual brusque tones when addressing Merlin. "Anyways, I need to gather the villagers back up, Merlin. They're still miserable with weapons, but I have a plan to make this fight a little easier for us." What he did not say was that he was stealing this plan from his memories of the past.

Merlin stood up as well, and Arthur pretended not to notice his suspiciously shiny eyes. "Yes, Sire," Merlin said. "And, thank you."

Neither man noticed Hunith standing behind the door to her home, eavesdropping.

Guinevere stood in the shadow of Hunith's home later that evening, as Arthur gave a final speech to the people of Merlin's small village. He had trained them for a mere two days, and yet, in spite of their miserable chances, Arthur's voice had only confidence as he rallied the men and women of Ealdor in defense of their home.

"Tomorrow morning," he was saying, "the elderly, the children, and those who do not wish to fight should gather what they can and head for the woods on the far side of town. For those who remain, your battle with be difficult, but it is not without hope! You fight for the most basic and noble of rights: the right to survive and live your lives as you will in peace! You fight to protect the ones you love, and that will be your advantage over Kanen, who fights only to subjugate good men! Tomorrow, you fight for Ealdor!"

Arthur raised his sword, and the men and women around him took up his chant, crying, "Ealdor! Ealdor! Ealdor!"

Gwen watched all this from the back of the crowd, standing next to her Lady, Morgana. When first she and Morgana had decided to convince Arthur to allow the women to fight, they had expected resistance. His response, then, had shocked them both. Gwen still felt strange shivers of pleasure as she recalled the way in which Arthur had looked at her when he agreed. Now, as the evening shadows stretched long across the small village with its wooden houses and dusty dirt paths, Guinevere thought that Arthur looked more a king than his father. The people of the village cheered for him as he brought them hope, even though each of them knew how dangerous and desperate the next day's battle would be.

Ever since Merlin had arrived in Camelot, she had seen a change slowly wrought in the spoiled prince. He had always been strong and proud, but now he appeared also just and wise, as though he had truly come in to himself here in Ealdor, the birthplace of the servant who had become his friend.

The next day dawned cool and quiet. As the sun rose over the hills, it shone down on a silent huddle of tiny homes, crisscrossed by broad brown streets, the dust untroubled by any foot. The gleam of the sun warmed the air and lit upon the grimed leather and rough swords of a host of men who rode out of the woods and into the empty village, stirring up motes of dust and dirt that caught in the light and clouded the still air. The men stopped at a crossroads, glaring around at the closed and shuttered houses surrounding them. A few of the men shifted nervously in their saddles, and their horses whinnied softly.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Kanen said. He rode at the head of his men, and smiled to see the people he had come to fight cowering from him in fear. They would regret calling that foreign princeling out to fight him.

A sudden shout rent the air, and a gate of sticks and grass was pulled up behind Kanen's men; a moment later, it went up in a roar of flames, trapping them. The horses whinnied and reared. A few of Kanen's men were thrown to the ground; Kanen himself held on to his own horse and called to his men to stay where they were. They had walked right into a trap, like fools!

"Now!" a voice shouted, and villagers sprung up everywhere with battle cries and weapons made of farming tools and old swords, but the one who led them was in shining armor, with golden hair and a bright sword newer and sharper than the rest. It was the foreign prince, Arthur Pendragon, and Kanen wanted to be the one to take him down.

Between the two, however, villagers and Kanen's men swept across the ground, fighting and yelling, blocking his way to the prince. Kanen rode through them, cutting down everyone in his path. This man and all these stupid villagers would pay for their arrogance! In spite of the trap, the bandits outnumbered the villagers. The fight was more difficult than Kanen had expected because, as he was disgusted to notice, Camelot's prince had allowed women to join the fighting. That would make no difference, though, he thought, striking down one of the foolish girls as she ran too close to him with a hoe in her hands that she wielded like a weapon, as though a woman could help in battle. He still had more men than all the people in this village. Even if they had decided to let their children and old men fight along with their women, they would still lose!

No sooner had the thought run through his head, then a great wind began to rise in the village, stirring up dirt and straw in small whirlwinds that leapt through the air unnaturally, striking at his men with a precision that could only be achieved through magic. Kanen roared. Magic was outlawed in Camelot, had been for many years of the reign of their king, Uther, yet, here was magic being used against Kanen's men by Uther's own son! A whirlwind swept near Kanen, and his horse reared with a frenzied whiny, unseating him. He rose to his feet in a rage. This day would not end without the Pendragon's blood.

"Pendragon!" Kanen's cry rent the air. Most of his men had fled at the strange winds, and his way to the young prince was now clear.

Arthur turned to face him, meeting Kanen's sword with his own. The two circled each other, and then the Prince struck, driving forward hard and fast, and forcing Kanen to stumble backwards against the onslaught. Suddenly, he became afraid. The young prince fought like a man years older, and there was a light in his eyes that spoke of memories of battles and wars past. As Kanen blocked and parried, trying desperately to find an opening to land his own strike, the prince's sword swung round in an unexpected feint, and Kanen's sword spun away from his hands, glittering in the sunlight before falling to the dirt. He barely had time to comprehend this before he felt a rush of agony in his core. Looking down, he saw the sword of the prince protruding from beneath his breast, and red was already staining his dirty shirt.

Kanen fell to his knees and the prince stepped back, a look of surprise on his face, as though he too had not expected things to end as they did. One last gurgle of rage passed Kanen's lips, and then he died.

Merlin watched in shock as Arthur struck a killing blow to Kanen, defeating the bandit leader and finally bringing peace to Ealdor.

The plan had gone near flawlessly, with Morgana and Gwen closing the makeshift gate as Merlin lit it on fire, trapping the invaders. Merlin had wanted to stay with Arthur, but his prince had ordered him to be the one to light the fire instead. Still, Merlin had rushed out to join the fight as soon as the battle was underway.

He had nearly died before he could do much good, but Will had appeared then, his best friend saving him from being impaled on a bandit's sword in spite of his hatred for fighting and nobles. Merlin had smiled then, knowing what he had to do.

"I didn't think you were coming," he said, clasping Will's hand in his own. Will was dressed in father's old mail, and he grinned at Merlin with grim humor.

"Neither did I," Will said, turning his back to Merlin so he could watch for more men.

"Well, I'm glad you came," Merlin said. "Now you can see me prove that Arthur's not like other nobles." His eyes nearly teared up again with joy at the thought of the conversation that had occurred the previous day, after Will stormed away, but he swept his pleasure to the back of his mind for now. He would need all his concentration for this.

"How're you gonna do that?" Will asked, standing next to him as they watched others fight, their attention staying away from the two boys for the moment.

"He knows," Merlin said, a bright grin lighting up his face, "and he gave me permission to do this!" Raising his had above the ground, he incanted, "Cume þoden."

Whirlwinds had swept through the enemy, conjured by Merlin's spell and routing their forces. A few villagers followed the retreating men to ensure that they truly left, but Merlin's attention was grabbed by Kanen. The bandit leader roared his anger at Arthur, challenging the prince to a duel. Before Merlin could do anything, Arthur had turned to meet him and they began to fight.

That had not been expected. Merlin watched them with fear in his eyes, and Will had to hold him back from rushing in to defend Arthur, which likely would have only gotten him killed. Neither could he use magic to give Arthur an advantage. The rest of the fighting had stopped, and everyone would see if he did something. Besides that, Arthur and the bandit leader circled each other too closely for Merlin to help, even if he could have done so without alerting the entire village to his magic. They were still close to Camelot, even if they were not a part of it, and some of them would not think well of him having magic.

When the prince finally struck at Kanen, the force of his attack pushed the other man back and caused gasps among those watching. Even Merlin, who knew the prince was counted as one of the finest fighters in Camelot and had watched the prince fighting with knights for months, was surprised by Arthur's ferocity. He seemed to have turned into a whirlwind himself as he struck right and left, high and low, dotting Kanen with strips and spots of blood. Finally, he got in fully under Kanen's defense and struck swift and true, thrusting his sword through the center of Kanen's chest, right below his breast.

The villagers stood silent for a moment, before a cheer went up. Arthur braced himself on his sword in the road, and Merlin ran up to him, Will following behind.

"That was a lucky break we got with that wind," Arthur said, turning and smiling conspiratorially at Merlin. The sorcerer grinned back, pleased to see that Arthur was unhurt.

"It was lucky indeed," he said, perfectly happy to pretend. He would still be unable to use magic back in Camelot so long as Uther ruled, but Arthur's acceptance lightened his heart nonetheless. It seemed the dragon had not lied when he said, so many months ago, that Arthur would be a great man.

Next to him, Will stepped forwards. Merlin reached out a hand to hold him back, but Will stopped him.

"I'd like to apologize for the things I said before," Will said, holding out his hand to Arthur.

Arthur took his hand with the dignity of a king greeting a lord. "You had your reasons for behaving as you did, and I do not begrudge you your anger. The important thing is that you made the honorable choice and came back in the end."

Will swallowed and nodded. "Anyway, it seems I misjudged you. Merlin's my best friend, and I should have trusted his judgment. He thinks highly of you, so in the future you shall have my loyalty." He laughed then, a bit sheepish. "That is, if you ever had some odd reason to need a poor farm boy who's more troublemaker than anything else."

"I shall keep your words in mind, and I thank you for your offer. You are a brave man, no matter what you may think," Arthur said, taking Will's words with surprising gravity. Then he smiled. "Anyways, I'm hungry, Merlin. I don't suppose your mother has anymore of that delicious porridge?" His sudden cheerfulness caught Merlin by surprise, and he stumbled through a response.

"Right, um, I'll go find you something, then," he said, turning to hurry away and do just that, when Arthur's voice stopped him.

"And Merlin?" the prince said. "Make sure you get some food for yourself and your friend, here, as well. You're both disgustingly skinny."

"Of course, Sire," Merlin said, giving Arthur a mocking bow and a glare. When he turned away, however, there was a smile on his face, and a bounce in his step. He still thought it seemed a bit odd how much Arthur had changed recently, but perhaps it had simply taken leaving Camelot for a bit to get the prince to acknowledge changes that had been occurring since he met Merlin. Whatever it was, Merlin was happy.

AN: I've been reading Tolkien lately, which I think influenced the battle scenes a bit. Anyways, please let me know what you thought, as always! Soon, we'll be getting in to the real plot.