Cured
By TheAlmightySun
Chapter Five
Wait! Don't read yet. It seems that I have left out a very important section by accident in chapter three. In order for this to make chronological sense, I have to inculde it! So... please go to the third chapter, last section. It's a Gaius section. Read it BEFORE this chapter! It took place a few days before chapter five.
(In a week or so I'll take this message off. As for now... ENJOY!)
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Lightning stroke.
Gaius stared out at the pelting rain, the dark cloud making the morning sky black. He had been riding for days, and now stood at the entrance of a large cave he happened about a few minutes ago, letting his exhausted horse rest.
What have I done?
Gaius remembered the day Amaroe came to him, with his brother and his niece. He was a young twenty-year-old man, broken and mourning the death of everyone he ever knew. He came to Camelot because he had no other place to go. He came to Camelot because it was his last choice beside death.
It was the time of the purge. Sorcerers had been prosecuted under Uther's cruel hand for almost four years, and Amaroe's family was only a small notch in the long lists of innocent casualties.
Gaius had been Uther's physician for over a decade by that point. The king knew of his magic, but forgave it. Gaius has proven his loyalties too many times to be executed with the rest. He was the only wizard in Camelot who still breathed.
He couldn't bear it.
Seeing his brothers fall dead, one after the other, the people with whom he shared the most basic, instinctive bond dying by the hundreds all over the kingdom- it was torturous. He has seen the great dragons fall, the magical beasts escaping to the deep, dangerous forests. And he could do nothing to stop it.
He knew magic could be good, and he tried to explain that to Amaroe. He thought the boy understood. He thought he had realized only one sorcerer killed his family, not them all.
But he hadn't.
Gaius tried to save his brothers.
But he couldn't.
The rain ravaged the rocky ground, deafening and cruel.
And then there was Amaroe's brother. A wizard. The only wizard Gaius had known apart from himself.
A wolf howled in the distance as Gaius stared out of the cave, his tears mingling with the rain.
He couldn't save him.
And that was how Perry's father died.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Day eight:
"What say you, my lord?" Amaroe asked, smiling his wicked smile.
Uther gazed at the fifteen people standing before him, stone faced. They were all pale, quivering, muttering under their breathe. Among them stood the young girl, the first successful test run. She stood silent, her arms once again tied before her. On her left stood an old woman, moving her gaze this way and that as if hearing some loud noise. To her right was a boy, maybe six, tears streaming down his too-white face as he stared with fearful admiration at the armored knights guarding the prisoners.
"My lord," The old woman said suddenly, stepping forward. "What am I here for? I have done no wrong," she pleaded. Uther ignored her, studying the shivering lot.
"I was not aware of so many sorcerers in Camelot," The king said slowly. His son stood next to the window, unable to take his eye of the sick convicts, or look them in the eye. "Though not all of them possess the symptoms you predicted, Amaroe. That one seems normal enough," He pointed at a man of thirty-some years, standing rigid and strong between the quivering others.
"That is because I am no sorcerer, my lord," He said loudly, eyeing Amaroe with hate. "Your servant has made a mistake. I hate magic. I spit on it." He spat on the old man next to him, who was too busy muttering to notice. The king turned his icy gaze to Amaroe.
"He might not have realized his abilities, my lord," Amaroe said. "But I assure you. I am not mistaken."
Uther nodded. "Take them to the dungeons." The guards raised their spears, leading the fifteen sorcerers out.
"Wait, father," Arthur said, as they were piling out. "I thought the point of this… cure, was to avoid executions."
"Of course, " Uther nodded, signaling to the rest of the men to leave. Amaroe left with them. "But they might still be dangerous. You heard that last one."
"I did," Arthur said, coming up to his father's throne, where the king now sat, picking up the latest lists of taxes. "He hadn't even known he was a sorcerer. We can't condemn a man for something he didn't do."
"Didn't do yet," The king corrected. "You know as well as I, Arthur, that sorcery is an evil craft that must be abolished." He looked at his son's fervent face seriously. "In a matter of weeks, if they have shown no signs of magic, we shall release them. But before then, we must rid the city of the abomination of magic once and for all."
"But-"
"Have you forgotten that a sorceress has kidnapped Morgana?" Uther said, angry. "And that that same sorceress has deluded you into trying to overthrow your own father?"
Arthur paused, grounding his teeth. "No. I have not."
"Good," Uther said, turning back to the taxes. "Don't."
Arthur stood there for a moment more, and then turned sharply, leaving the room. Orano followed faithfully, holding his sword.
"Will my lord like his dinner now?" he asked, as they were entering the prince's chambers. Arthur wanted to hit him.
"No," He said instead, pulling off his formal robes. "I want you to go get Gwen. Tell her I need to see her. Now."
"Of course, sire," The boy said, bowed, and left the room.
"You don't need to bow!" Arthur called after him, suddenly furious. "I'm not gonna bite!"
But Orano was gone.
Breathing hard, Arthur turned to the desk, leaning his forehead on the cold stone, trying to cool off. The room was boiling hot. Merlin wouldn't have turned the fire on until after Arthur's changed for bed. He wouldn't have even heated the water for the bath.
Pissed for no reason, Arthur turned back to the bed, and sat down. He was not missing Merlin. But he wanted to know where he'd gone. He'd expected him to pop up with some silly excuse by noon, at least. If Merlin was anything- and he wasn't much- he was trustworthy enough that Arthur never feared telling him about his father. He wanted to tell him about the sorcerers. The water has been 'cured' for almost a week, and no new sorcerers have arrived since days before. He wanted to tell him that Mrogana hadn't turned up, like he'd first hoped, thinking perhaps her captor has been effected by the cure and she managed to escape. He wanted to tell him-
"You called, sire?" Gwen asked, standing silently at the doorway.
"I did," He said, getting up. "Come in."
She did, closing the door behind her. "Orano went to get your food," She said, turning to him.
"Yes, good," He said distractedly. "Where's… ah, Merlin?"
Gwen blinked. "He isn't back yet?"
"No," Arthur said, confused. "I thought you went to talk to him yesterday."
"I did, he said he was sick," She muttered. Arthur smiled ironically.
"Of course he's sick. My birthday's in less then four days, my father's invited the entire world, and my manservant is sick. He's doing this on purpose," He turned, pacing, away from her. "I should have known he'd use Gaius's absence to pull something like this."
When he turned back, Gwen was smiling. "I doubt it's anything like that, Arthur. I mean sire. I meant sire," She finished pathetically, blushing. Arthur whirled back around, fighting against his pounding heart.
"No, that sound like Merlin. I honestly don't know why I let him stay. Orano is a much better servant."
"I think you have enough servants, Arthur," Gwen said, and did not correct herself. He paused by the window. Camelot was alight with glowing fires.
"Did he look sick?" He asked finally.
"I couldn't tell," She said, stepping into the room, lighting a candle against the growing dark. "I mean, he had this odd look. I guess he did."
"Hmm." Arthur turned back to her. "Well, ask him to get over whatever it is. I'm sure Gaius left enough remedies for winter flu. I cannot stand a minute longer with that other one."
"You just said Orano was better then Merlin," Gwen reminded, still smiling.
"I lied. He's… too… quite," Arthur muttered. Gwen did her best to hide her laughter. "Tell Merlin if he doesn't get over here now, I'm coming there to get him."
"Right, sire," Gwen nodded, just as Orano came in with the dinner plate. "I'll let him know." She headed for the door, her dress swirling around her feet noiselessly.
"Gwen?"
"Yes, Sire?"
"Thanks."
"Yes, Sire."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Atora?"
She blinked at him in surprise, pushing locks of hair out of her face. "Did you say something, Sir Lancelot?"
He chuckled. "Would you like a cup of tea?"
"That would be lovely, thank you," She said, and smiled at him. Lancelot handed her a cup, and then gave one to Lora.
"Shouldn't we be on our way?" Atora asked.
"It's still dark, my lady," Lora said, glancing at the vanishing moon. "And cold. We should leave once the sunrise has ended."
"But the prince's birthday is only four day away," Atora said, staring into her tea. "We are being awfully rude. We should have been there days ago."
"Why haven't you left with your family, Atora?" Lancelot asked, seeping his own drink. The fire blazed between the three of them, warming up the cold morning air. "They're already there, I assume?"
"Yes," The girl said, breathing in the fumes of the hot water. "I don't know. I guess I wanted some solitude. In the castle I could not get a second to myself. It was a madhouse."
Lancelot smiled, giving Lora an amused look. She giggled. "But you'd be staying in a castle at Camelot, as well," he reminded. "One packed with royal guests and their servants."
Atora laughed. "Don't remind me. Sometimes I wish I could just live with the common folk for a while." She paused, again deep in thought. "I've done that once," she muttered into her cup. Lancelot and Lora exchanged worried glances. Lancelot had really come to like Atora, with all her strange ways, and her sadness made him sorry.
Shaking her self out of the reverie, Atora looked up, smiling. "But the city is only a day away, isn't it?"
"Yes," Lancelot nodded. "We should be there tomorrow afternoon."
Atora bit her lower lip, her eyes eager. "Well… what if we walk the night through?"
Lora, who liked horses as much as she liked drowning, gave her mistress a pleading look. Atora didn't notice, gazing at the surprised Lancelot hopefully.
"Ah… we could," He said, uncertain, eyeing the miserable Lora hesitantly. "But- why would we-"
"I just… want to see the city," The lady said, not meeting his gaze. Lancelot was about to retort when the sound of hooves came from the path behind them.
He jumped up, pulling up his sword. The two women glanced at each other, and Atora got to her feet, reaching toward her own rucksack, clutching her fragile hands over the hilt of a knife.
"Who's there?" Lancelot demanded. The steps paused, and then continued. Someone was making their way on horse back toward them, through the thicket of the woods.
Lancelot squinted against the morning fog. Could it be?
"…Gaius?" he asked, lowering his weapon. "Is that…"
As the old man's features came into focus, Lancelot's face erupted into a joyous grin. "What are you doing here?!"
Gaius gaped at him in surprise. "Lancelot?"
Atora let go of the knife, coming forward. "You know each other?" She asked, her beautiful eyes wide.
"I… that's the friend I've been talking about," Lancelot said, going toward Gaius and coming to a stop near his horse. His old friend seemed haggard, as if he'd been journeying for many days. "I thought you'd be in Camelot, Gaius, for the celebrations," Lancelot asked, and shook the physician's hand warmly.
"I was visiting a friend," Gaius said, getting off his horse and pulling Lancelot into a hug. "Are you here for Arthur's birthday?"
The two girls came toward them, Atora's gaze like a curious child's.
"I was actually on my way to visit you," Lancelot said. Then he remembered the two women by his side. "I'm sorry. Gaius, this is Atora, King Boro's niece, and her maid, Lora." The two smiled politely, and Gaius bowed his head. "This is Gaius, King Uther's personal physician and unofficial advisor."
"Nice to meet you, Gaius," Atora said, her voice clear and high. Gaius nodded. "I assume you're heading to the city, as well?"
"Indeed, my lady," the old man said, glancing at his horse again. "I have news for the king. Urgent news. I actually must be going-"
"Of course," the lady said. "But we are heading toward the castle as well. Would you like to join us?"
Gaius hesitated, glancing behind them at the fire, and the half folded tent. "I… the king…" Atora smiled at him. "Of course," he said, remounting his horse. He gave Lancelot a joking smile as the younger man rushed to the tent, hurrying to pack it. Atora nodded at the old man, helping Lora put out the fire. In a matter of minute they were packed and ready, and Lancelot jumped onto Brown's back, a grin splattered across his happy face.
The girls prodded their horses forward, leaving Gaius and Lancelot behind.
"You seem worried, Gaius," Lancelot muttered under his breath, as they followed the girls down the path. "Is something the matter?"
"I'm not sure yet," Gaius replied softly. "It might be nothing."
Lancelot didn't answer. He doubted it was nothing. Gaius's eyes were troubled, and the wise man was unlikely to agonize over trivialities.
"Is something the matter with the prince? Or Merlin?" Or Gwen?
"I hope not," Gaius said. Lora turned and waved them on, chasing after Atora, who had managed to double their pace.
"What do you mean?" Lancelot asked, growing anxious. The idea of any of his friends being hurt made his heart pound. There he was, wondering aimlessly in the forests, where somewhere people were actually in trouble.
Gaius rubbed his horse's neck thoughtfully.
"I'm not exactly sure."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Gwen was walking quickly between the carriages.
It was dark. She was wearing a long sleeved green dress, but that didn't stop the blood from freezing in her vines. She was half running toward Gaius's lodgings, clutching her hands over her body, conserving warmth.
She hadn't seen Merlin since the morning of yesterday.
I wasn't like him. Merlin had never been much for punctuality, but he hadn't taken a sick day since she'd met him. He hadn't seemed sick the last time she saw him, even though he said he was. Just a little over worked. He'd joked about the sister of one of the visiting kings, flirting blatantly with Uther, while leaning tiredly on the door frame.
Jumping lightly in place and rubbing her hands together, she went to the backdoor, which led straight into the kitchen where hopefully the stove would be burning.
"Merlin!" She called loudly, banging on the door. "It's Gwen!"
It was dark inside, she could tell, peeking through the window. Soft sounds of things being moved could be heard from within the house. At least he wasn't too sick to make a racket.
"Merlin!" she raised her voice. There was no answer.
Rolling her eyes, she opened the door, gasping softly at the coolness of the iron knob. There was no light anywhere, and the hearth was stone cold.
Gwen shuffled slowly into the darkness, wishing she'd brought a candle or something to see by. "Merlin? Are you here?"
Soft muttered emanated from a dark corner to her left. Gwen shivered, frowning, and stepped forward. Her feet pressed onto open books and papers thrown onto the floor. Gaius's chambers, a mess?
"Merlin, are you- what…" She tried not to step over anything, making her way toward the source of the muttering. He was sitting on the bare floor in the corner, breathing in loud, strained gasps. She came toward him, trying to see his face through the black shadows.
"Where is it…? …Gone. Lost… Where… Took it? ….Where did… lost…"
"Merlin?"
His hands were pressed tightly against his temples, nails digging into the abused skin. His eye were sealed shut, his entire body shaking with… pain.
"Hey," She said softly, leaning down beside him. She tried to separate his arms from his head. "Stop. You'll hurt yourself…" his hand wouldn't budge. There was something sticky, wet, on his left palm. A knife was thrown unceremoniously on the floor by his side.
"Merlin. Talk to me." He ignored her, muttering on. She could barely understand what he said. "What have you lost?" She whispered, looking around the chaotic room. Everything was on the floor, shuttered or ripped. "Maybe I could help you find-"
Suddenly, Merlin's blind gaze landed on her, desperate. His hands seized her shoulder vehemently, and she gasped with pain.
"Where is it?" he hissed loudly.
"Where's… what?"
"Where is it?"
Gwen swallowed, suddenly afraid. "Merlin, I don't…. what are you talking about?"
"It's gone!" Merlin said, letting go of her and jumping to his feet. "Lost. I've lost it."
She pulled herself to her feet. "What are you-"
Merlin's head snapped to the left, his eyes searching the blackness. Gwen gaped as he swiriled in the other direction, groping wildly for something in the dark.
"…Merlin?" Her voice was a whisper.
He ignored her. His head snapped this way and that, as if harassed by invisible ghosts.
"Maybe you should just… sit d-"
"Where is it?"
She stopped again, stepping back. Merlin stared at her again, the agony in his breathe growing with every inhalation. "Who took it?"
"I don't know, she said, but she didn't expect him to listen. "I- sit. Merlin gazed at her despairingly, and she forced him down onto a still"-standing chair. "Sit. Don't move."
Keeping her eyes on him, she backed up toward the door, making sure he remained where she placed him. She had to get help. There had to be some other physician in the castle, with Gaius gone, who could… fix… things.
As she was opening the back door, Merlin's head snapped to face her.
"They had no right to take it," He said, and his voice broke.
Gwen got out, bracing herself against the cold.
"They had no right to take it!"
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Sorry for the confusion.
Anyway. What did you think?