A/N: Thank you for all your marvellous reviews! They are very much appreciated and make me feel very welcome AND they make me want to write more! I will strive to update once a week, but being non-native English it might take longer than that since I double check so often. I'm also pleased to hear that I got Merlin and Arthur somewhat in character. Special thanks goes to my beta extraordinaire Strut! You know why! All right. Here's chapter two. Remember, reviews are food for a writer's soul, so I would love to hear what you think. Enjoy!
Chapter 2
"Merlin!" Not wasting time with subtlety, Arthur banged open the door and yanked the covers from his servant's rickety bed.
Merlin woke with a start, hand up. Deep blue eyes, hazed with sleep, squinted at Arthur. Obviously not wanting to make it look like he had a bad dream, his servant snatched his hand back, released a breath and relaxed back in his pillow. "Arthur, I could have killed you."
Merlin's sincere statement derailed thoughts and irritation alike. Ready to berate him, Arthur felt his lip curl with sarcasm instead. "Oh really? Good thing I'm wearing my armour then," he laughed, knowing he could fend off Merlin with his eyes closed. It wouldn't be for lack of try on Merlin's side though. No matter the insults he threw at his manservant, he was not in any way a cowered. He'll just lose spectacularly.
"You're dressed?"
"Yes," Arthur leaned in. "I'm dressed, because you were suppose to wake me an hour ago!"
"What?" Taking in the early morning light sweeping in from the small window set high in the wall behind Arthur, Merlin sat up, dark hair tousled every which way. "Oh, the council meeting."
"Yes, the council meeting," Arthur drew out the last words. "Which I told you last night, my father convened earlier than usual at the urgent request of Mathylda's cousin."
"I'm sorry…" Merlin shook his head, obviously rallying his thoughts. "I'll get dressed."
Arthur picked up a discarded shirt from the floor and threw it in Merlin's face. "Hurry up. If Mathylda finds out I'm waiting on a servant instead of the other way around I can't keep her from disciplining you."
"I know, I know."
"Might even do you some good," he started, taking in the discarded items strewn around on the floor. The small room, bearing nothing but a bed, chest and a window looked as if a storm had blown through. "Teach you some humility."
"What's all the racket!"
Arthur turned to find Gaius standing in the doorway. The elderly court physician, who'd taken Merlin in as if he was his son, glared at his ward. From the looks of the old man he'd worked right through the night and only just walked in. "Are you late, again?"
Merlin gaped, closed his mouth and then paced angrily passed the both of them into the physician's main chamber.
"Did you dry out the scrolls?" Arthur yelled after him.
"Yes, my lord," turning in the front room, Merlin made a mock bow, his expression amused. "They're on the table."
Arthur opened his mouth with indignation, but then decided to let it go. Lord knew, Merlin had never been particularly respectful toward the title he bore, but something in the way he'd been behaving of late, had Arthur worried.
"I'm sorry, Sire. I should have woken him."
Arthur waved his apology away. "It's all right. I know you've been treating the wounded." There wouldn't have been so many of them, had he been able to slay the dragon before it had a chance to wreck so much havoc. Thank God he'd succeeded in the end. "How are they doing?"
Gaius voice softened. "Some are doing well, others… not so good." He hesitated. "There's one or two who I doubt will make it."
Arthur nodded, every death adding to the emptiness that had manifested itself in his heart after Morgana's kidnap. His father had sent out patrols, but none had been successful so far. More than anything he wanted to lead the search himself, to scout around until he'd at least found some clue as to where Morgause kept her prisoner. He hated to be stuck doing repairs, but was forced to concede that as long as western defences were down, he couldn't leave the city.
"I've told your father I won't be able to attend the council session this morning," Gaius continued. "Gwen is doing the best she can, but she can't take care of all the wounded on her own."
At the thought of Guinevere, Arthur's heart lightened a little. "I understand. It's not a formal session anyway. Just me, my father, and Sir Leon." He paused and pressed a finger to his lips, not sure if he should ask the question. Being Merlin's mentor however, the wizened physician would understand his worry. "Gaius," he started as the man was about to head back into the main room. "I know, as of late, we've all been under a lot of strain."
Gaius furrowed his brow. "That's hardly surprising, considering none of us have had a decent rest since Morgana disappeared."
Arthur lowered his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. Gaius was right. Although having slept last night, for the first time since this whole mess began, he did not feel rested at all. How could he with Morgana still out there, alone? "Merlin," he said, pushing weariness aside. "Does he seem more withdrawn than usual to you, lately?"
The physician looked over his shoulder to where Arthur could see his servant pulling on his boots. "You mean he's not his usual vibrant self?"
"Something like that." Though he'd never admit this, he'd seen, had felt Merlin's genuine distress. Especially right after the last Dragon Lord died. Come to think of it, Merlin hadn't been himself ever since Morgause took Morgana away, maybe even before that. Arthur might be a clotpole, as Merlin called him, but he had noticed his normally enthusiastic servant -unfazed by even a day in the stocks- had had a hard time of late.
Gaius studied him. "If it's possible," he stated. "Try to give him time, Sire."
For a second it looked like Gaius was going to say more, but when nothing was forthcoming, Arthur sighed, agreeing in silence, making a mental note to regularly check up on Merlin as long as Mathylda was around.
When Arthur arrived at the dining hall, his father was already sitting at the head of the table. Fruit, freshly baked bread and an assortment of meat and cheese set the tabletop. Sitting to his father's left, Mathylda rose in curtsy as he came in. She wore a lush yellow dress, brimmed with light blue silk setting off the grey in her eyes. She'd been hooded yesterday but now she sported a head full of dark brown curls touched with a streak of white tumbling down her round face. Having risen along with Mathylda, Tagan wore the washed-out red robe of a scribe, the same one Geoffrey their court genealogist wore, except this one was a tighter fit and more suitable for travelling. Opposite him, Sir Leon gave a respectful nod.
"Arthur! So glad you could join us!" The king's smile felt welcome, but the steel in his eyes conveyed his father was annoyed at him for being late.
"Father, My Lady," Arthur said, sitting down between Leon and his father. Merlin, who'd fallen in step behind him, took the pitcher from the table and went around giving their goblets a refill, then drifted back into the shadows behind Arthur.
"I thought we might as well enjoy breakfast together."
Arthur admired his father's ability to hide his worry for Morgana behind his mask of welcome. He'd never quite succeeded in perfecting this technique.
"It is an honour, My lord," Tagan spoke, grey eyes matching the white streaks in his short cropped hair. "Had my message not been so dire, we would have waited for the council to convene, however I'm afraid that what I have to tell is of the utmost urgency." Having grown up at court, Arthur had seen many scribes pass by. They were a valuable source of information, either bringing news of the Kingdom, or entertaining them with their stories. Not many had the gift for true story telling though. Judging by Tagan's quiet pacing and deep tone of voice rising from his belly, this man had. Arthur found himself curious as to what Mathylda's cousin had to say.
"Nonsense," his father put a hand on Mathylda's fingers. "It's been far too long since I had the pleasure of your company. I take it you have settled in well?"
"We have had no trouble, My lord. Your serfs, maids and servants perform their jobs adequately," she glanced at Merlin when she answered, her tone betraying she was polite. Her gaze settled on Arthur, as if to scorn him for being too soft on his staff. He felt uncomfortable, but thought it wise to keep quiet for now.
"Oh? "
Arthur wasn't surprised at his father's question. Mathylda's dissatisfaction was obvious, which only emphasized his earlier assessment of her. She was doing her job well.
His father leaned in. "You think I've grown too lenient?"
Her smile did not reach her eyes. "It is not my place to judge your ways, My lord. Running a royal household is a task I will gladly perform. In my opinion, there is always room for improvement."
"Then we are in desperate need of your services."
His father looked relieved. Arthur didn't blame him. Since Morgana's first kidnap by the druids, the fight to get her back, followed by her kidnap by Morgause after the siege, the king had been struggling to get things back in order. Arthur helped where he could, but running a household was neither his nor his father's expertise.
"Tagan," Arthur changed the subject. "I believe there is a matter you wish to discuss."
Tagan nodded, wiped his mouth and started to talk. "In your quest to eradicate all sorcery from these lands, you have ordered those of my vocation to watch out for any leads that will uproot those still practicing the old religion."
"You have found a sorcerer?" Arthur straightened, reading anxiousness in the scribe's voice.
His father tensed.
Tagan gave a thin smile. "My lord, I'm not a witch finder. It is merely my duty to find the grain of truth seeded within the stories people tell me, and so I have learned to separate the wheat, the true born whispers, from the chaff. For if you dig deep enough, reality is there for all there to see."
"Then what is it you wish to tell me. Speak man!"
When concerning magic, his father bore little intolerance, if any. As much as Tagan obviously liked to talk riddles he'd better get to the point before the King lost his patience. Arthur had to admit he was intrigued.
"In order for you to understand, I need to start with the basics, My lord. We all know that with practice, study, and exercise, sorcerers are born. That is, providing you have potential. Most magic does not become apparent until you come of age. Therefore, we cannot ascertain for certain whether or not a child will be able to eventually use this potential, but if the parents have magic, we can be fairly sure that the child has potential too."
"I know," his father leaned back, "That is why I cannot allow such off spring to live."
"When magic does manifest, there is every chance it does so violently, like they did in the mighty sorcerers of old. They were the ones to fear, for they could bring down Camelot."
"They've all been taken care of during the Great Purge."
Arthur noticed his father chose his words carefully. Ever the diplomat, while in truth he had them all killed. The king's methods may have been extreme but, like all evil, magic needed to be eradicated completely in order to regain peace and stability in the lands. Whatever it was that Tagan wanted to tell them -if the man ever got to the point- Arthur feared magic was about to rear its ugly head again.
"I believe Cornelius Sigan was the last of them," his father continued.
"But even Sigan, one of the greatest sorcerers who ever lived, did not become that powerful overnight."
The king sighed, a sign he grew bored. "You haven't told me anything I don't already know."
"Sire, I stumbled upon a whisper too tenacious to ignore. I talked to many, listened hard, searched out those wronged by either you or … those still in hiding, who'd be willing to talk."
Arthur frowned. Was he talking about the druids? Having contact with them was forbidden. For Tagan to admit this to the King must mean he either had a death wish, or his message was dire indeed.
"They know better than to talk to a scribe, off course," Tagan said. "However, they do relish a good story and tell me theirs in return. Sire, what I have discerned concerns me greatly. Knowing what to look for, what to read, when to listen, I now see it buried deep within many a rumour. This particular strong whisper speaks of someone."
"Someone just as powerful as Sigan?" His father straightened. If that is the case we must find this sorcerer at once."
Arthur's stomach clenched with dread. They'd just survived a siege, a magical illness, and a dragon attack, not to mention Morgause's magically raised army. Will this never end? He definitely could do with a break. His father was right, the quicker this matter was dealt with, the better.
"You're not talking about Morgause, are you?" Sir Leon pitched in.
"No," Tagan smirked at the knight. "These rumours are far more unsettling."
"For God's sake, get on with it man!" His father ordered, clearly having lost his patience.
His father had lost his patience and Arthur had to admit he'd come close to threaten the scribe into getting to the point himself. Behind him, he heard Merlin shuffle on his feet. Now was not the time to look around though. He focussed on Tagan. When the man finally did come to the point, Arthur felt dread draining the blood from his face.
"Sire, they speak of someone… born with magic."
TBC