George was waiting when Arthur and Leon returned to the prince's chambers. The tedious servant fidgeted with the candlesticks on the table, idly setting and re-setting them. He would wear a track in the wood if he kept on with the task, but he jumped to attention when Arthur burst through the door. If he had had a hat, he would have twisted it to shreds by now. "What is it, George?" Arthur asked as he tossed his sodden cloak over the chair's back.

"Sire. Sir Leon," George nodded to the prince. He looked like he was about to throw up. "Your father bids you 'tend upon him immediately. Sir Leon, as well."

Arthur threw an exasperated glance out the window and raked a hand through his hair. "It's after midnight. Surely it can wait until morning?"

"He said immediately, Sire."

Arthur bit back the angry retort. It was hardly George's fault he was caught between a king and a prince at war with each other. As a 'mere servant', Arthur could only imagine with what sorts of dire warnings and threats his father had laid into the man. "He probably wants me to return the royal seal and the signet ring. It could have waited until tomorrow," he muttered as he unlocked the desk drawer where the ring and seal were stored, setting the bloodied arrowhead in the ring's place, followed by the pale ribbon Guinevere had given him. "Come on, then," he gestured for Leon to follow.

Uther was at his own desk when they arrived, surrounded by piles of parchments and the glow of two dozen candles. Gaius stood just inside the circle of light, but Arthur did not need the full brightness to see the worry- and fear- glinting in the physician's eyes. He met Gaius's gaze as calmly as he could before turning back to the king. "You wanted to see me, father?"

"Arthur," Uther acknowledged his son without looking up. "I've been reading through the kingdom's records and reports from last autumn until now. I have to admit that I'm pleased with your handling of the situations. You've managed to successfully negotiate peace terms with Odin and Caerleon, the kingdom is prosperous, and it seems as though the harvest will produce record yields."

Arthur snapped his mouth shut to keep his jaw dropping further. Praise was not what he had been expecting when he walked through the door. "I, uh. . . Yes. Things have been going well for Camelot this year, though Urien has yet to accept our ambassadors into his kingdom to negotiate new terms for peace."

"Cenred's uncle and heir, yes. There are rumors he has allied himself with Morgause?" Arthur nodded to confirm it. Uther scowled, "Then he has fallen far, to consort with witches and sorcerers. I would not have thought him so weak. I see also that you are preparing to send two thousand men north to Blackheath?"

"Yes. The Sarrum has been testing our defenses all along the border, and Blackheath is the weakest point. Without the reinforcements, the castle may fall if the Sarrum-"

"They're not going north," Uther cut the prince short. "The Sarrum has always tested our defenses, Arthur. It's what he does. He'll roar for a season to try to frighten us, but in the end he always returns home. I will not send two thousand of our men to winter in Blackheath while a greater threat eats at the heart of Camelot."

'The threat of your hatred and vengeance?' Arthur managed to keep those words behind his teeth, choosing a different tack instead, "And just what threat would that be?" Each word was clipped and hard, and everyone in the room knew the answer before the question was finished.

"The threat of sorcery. I thought I had put an end to it, executed enough of its practitioners to destroy it forever but I see that I failed in that. I don't want to return Camelot to the days of the first Purge, but I see no other choice. Sorcery is an evil that must be stamped out before it can spread out once more and sink its poison into the land." Arthur's jaw clenched at the casual way the king made the announcement, as though he were declaring that the walls needed repairing, or that it would hot on the morrow.

"Father-"

Uther cut him off again. "Do not argue with me, Arthur. It must be done. I don't blame you or Gaius for falling under that boy's spell, but he has corrupted you long enough. Lord Pynell informed me that Merlin used sorcery to escape tonight, but that he was injured and seemed likely to die soon. To be sure, Pynell and his hunters will depart in the morning, weather permitting, to continue the hunt. When they find the boy, they will put him to death and that will be the end of it.

"Until that time," Uther continued as he dipped the tip of his quill into the inkwell and scratched his signature onto a parchment, "I cannot be sure that his hold over you is broken. For the security of the realm and for your own safety, I am removing you from your place as commander of Camelot's armies."

"What?" Arthur exclaimed, slamming the seal against the desk. He leaned forward to look the king straight in the eye, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "The knights are my responsibility, Father. They have followed me through thick and thin. You can't just remove me like. . . like you'd push a dog out of the way."

Uther spread a bit of sand across his signature to dry the ink and calmly faced his son. "This is a temporary thing, Arthur. Only until I am sure that this enchantment has worn off. Until that time, Sir Leon will command the armies. He is a man of good family and knows how to follow his king's orders. I am certain that he will not fail in his quest to rid Camelot of the sorcerers and Druids that plague her." The king looked over Arthur's shoulder. "Sir Leon, I trust that you will do your utmost to serve the interests of Camelot in these dark times?"

Arthur turned to find Leon standing stock still, his eyes wide and mouth agape. "I- Yes. Yes, Majesty. I will do my utmost to serve this kingdom."

"Very well, then." Uther brushed the sand off the parchment, rolled it, and held it out for the knight to take, "This royal warrant puts you in command of Camelot's armies until such a time as Arthur can take them up again. Prepare your men to leave within two days' time. I want the knights to begin combing the forests for sorcerers or Druids. No quarter shall be given. Leave no stone unturned."

Leon's hands trembled as he took the parchment from the king. "Is there anything else, Majesty?"

"No, Sir Leon. You are dismissed." Uther waved him away and waited until the door closed behind the knight before turning back to Arthur. "I know you think I'm too harsh in this ruling, Arthur, but you do not remember the chaos of the old days, when magic was permitted in the Five Kingdoms. Without the strength of men like Pynell, like me, who knew what needed to be done and had the courage to do it, Camelot would have fallen. Remember what Morgause did to Morgana, how she took a sweet and loving girl and twisted her into a servant of darkness? Remember all the times that sorcerers used magic to try to kill you? Think on that in these next few days, Arthur. In time, you'll come to see that I am right."

"I may surprise you, Majesty." Arthur stood straight again as he laid the signet ring on the desk in front of the king. "By law, I am bound to return the royal seal and ring to you, now that you are recovered. And now that I have been stripped of my responsibilities, I seem to be of no further use to you, so I will retire for the night. Good night, my lord." He sketched a formal bow to Uther and strode out of the room before the king could object.

Leon was waiting for him outside. He winced as the echoes of the door's slamming echoed down the hallway, causing the guards to jump and watch, wide-eyed, as the prince stormed away. "Come with me, Sir Leon."

The knight followed, but neither said a word until they had reached Arthur's chambers. "I'm sorry, Arthur," Leon said when the door closed between them and the prying eyes outside in the castle. "I didn't want. . . this," he tossed the warrant on the table and sank into the first chair he saw, burying his face in his hands. "What do I do now? I can't just start hunting people down."

"I know," Arthur pulled out another chair and dropped into it, staring blankly toward the window. There was a rustling from the far end of the room. He looked up to find George emerging from the shadows.

"Should I leave, Sire?" George's voice shook. It was the first time Arthur had heard anything but obsequious competence in the man's voice.

He took a breath to dismiss the servant, then stopped as something Guinevere had said came to mind. 'We servants have our ways.' A faint smirk tugged at his lips before he forced it away. "No, George, stay. Bring us some wine, if you would." George nodded and set about the task, grateful to have something to do other than fidget. "As for what you'll do now," he looked back to Leon, "You'll serve Camelot, as you swore to do when you were knighted. To uphold her laws and defend her people. All her people. It's what I told Merlin when I found him, and I haven't changed my mind."

"But how can I defend them when I'm being sent out into the forest to hunt them down?"

"It's a large forest. There are a lot of places to hide. And I'm sure sorcerers- and others- have many ways of finding out about the goings-on in Camelot. Secrets are not always as secret as the king thinks they are," Arthur said archly, giving George a knowing look as he poured the wine. The servant looked back and blushed, bobbing his head as he went about his work. "And we both know it would be foolish for the knights of Camelot to enter the Broceliande Wood. As much as my father would hate to admit it, the magic in that forest is still strong, and it would attack those who seek to harm it, or those who seek shelter within."

"Then we'll have to give the forest a wide berth," Leon said. His gaze flicked back and forth between the prince and his servant as George shuffled about.

"That would be a good idea," Arthur said lightly. "George, that will be all for now. I seem to have nothing to do tomorrow morning, since the king has removed me from command, so once you've brought my breakfast and finished the bath, you'll have a half day for yourself. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sire. I do." George nodded and bowed deep before disappearing out the door.

Leon watched him go, then turned wary eyes back to the prince. "Was that wise, Arthur, to say all that in front of him?"

"That was the point, Leon. I may not have the authority over the knights anymore, but I can still tell servants what to do. My father ignores them, thinks they're worthless," Arthur sipped his wine and relaxed into his chair. "And though I'll deny it if you ever tell Merlin, I have learned that servants are anything but useless."

"But how can you be sure that George won't just run off and report to your father?"

"He won't. George is very conscious of his position and won't risk dismissal from my service to speak against me. Besides. His sister served the late Lady Margaret d'Albray, who was burned as a witch some five years back. The girl escaped execution, but she was imprisoned for months. When she was finally released, she wasn't the same. She'd gone half mad with fear. So as much of a pest as George can be, he has a reason to want to keep a second Purge at bay."

"Ah," understanding lit up Leon's eyes, "So the time off was to give him time to spread the word."

"Yes. And to get him out of my hair for a while. The man really is irritating," Arthur chuckled for a moment before sobering again. He glanced to the perch where the enchanted merlin rested the days it deigned to come back to the castle. It had been gone for well over a week. He was beginning to wonder if it would come back at all. "Do you think he made it, Leon? Do you think Merlin managed to get to safety?"

Leon was quiet for a moment while he pondered his answer. "I think that if anyone could survive what he just went through, Merlin could. He's made of stronger stuff than we give him credit for, Arthur."

The prince gazed into the dark red depths of his wine glass before he pushed it away, his thoughts suddenly too bloody to stomach it. "I hope you're right," he whispered.

"I do, too."