Author's note:

I love reviews. More please.

I apologize in advance for the long "travelling" chapter. Unfortunately, it is quite necessary.

The story continues…

Chapter 11: The long and winding road

Packing for the journey had not taking him very long. He wanted to travel light so that he could cover as much distance as possible on horseback. Also, he didn't want to be recognized so all the cloaks and pieces of armor carrying the Pendragon crest had to stay behind. A tricky part had been to get Sir Leon away from the banquet for two minutes to expose his plan. Thankfully, Lancelot had been skulking about in the quieter corners of the castle, avoiding the crowd as usual. He had therefore entrusted Lancelot with the delicate message. Arthur had also caught a glimpse of Gwen who was bringing up water to the king's chambers. However, he wanted to avoid distractions as much as possible and get on with his quest, so speaking to her, even looking too long at her, was out of the question. Leaving Gwen in the dark about his intentions took more will than he knew he had.

It was well into the night when he walked out of the stables, dragging his horse, and wearing a grey traveling cloak over his shoulders. It was going to be a long journey, which was partly the reason why he was not welcoming the presence that he was now sensing behind his back.

"This habit of yours to spy on the crown prince could be seen as treason," he said smartly, knowing full well who he was speaking to.

Wheeling around to face the knight, he realized that he was not only addressing Gwaine but Lancelot as well; both of them had traveling clothes and were pulling horses quietly behind them.

"Don't look at me like that," said Lancelot, shrugging. "He didn't believe your story from the start."

Gwaine stepped in front of Lancelot, a smug smile on his face. "Did you really expect us to believe that you were going into all this trouble to get to Lady Vivien's chambers?"

Arthur felt his face grow red. "I had to tell my father something that he would believe," he said between gritted teeth.

Lancelot had already mounted his horse. He and Gwaine kept glancing at each other conspicuously.

"We're going to Aria's Cradle, then?" asked the younger knight.

Arthur was shaking his head. "No; I can't accept the two of you coming along with me. I need you to stay here. My father's new rule is going to create panic and…"

"Actually it won't," said Gwaine, smiling broadly as he was placing his bags on his horse's back. When he saw that neither Arthur nor Lancelot knew what he meant, he added, "Your father's is postponing the date at which this rule is coming into effect until your return. He feels he will have better support from the knights if you're here. When Sir Leon said that you were going away for a while, I thought I may point this fact out to the king and it worked. Come on, you can say it…"

Arthur looked at the two men who were so wholeheartedly committed to following him and he couldn't help but feel a deep respect and fondness. As a prince, he was not accustomed to friendship but this, whatever it was, felt like something of the sort.

"What would I do without you Gwaine?" said Arthur teasingly.

The knight was on his horse now. "Besides, nobody here knows more friendly inns than I do."

"That's certainly a relief," snorted Lancelot.

But all three of them were interrupted by another figure, cloaked and hooded, that was now standing close to Arthur.

There was no need to take out his sword. He knew who it was right away. Arthur's heart raced faster. Had Sir Leon's lie been heard throughout the castle already? What would she think of him?

"Gwen! You do know that I am not really going to visit Lady Vivien, don't you? I would never… She means nothing…"

He could not finish his thought. He could only see her. The courtyard, the horses, Camelot, the moon and the stars, Gwaine and Lancelot, they had all momentarily disappeared.

Gwen took his hands between hers. He noticed that her fingers were cold and worn.

"Please tell Merlin how much we miss him and that we wish he will choose to come back," she murmured. "It's not the same without him; for the servants, I mean, and Gaius."

"I will," was all that Arthur could say.

He then kissed her on the cheek. It was the best he could do; otherwise, he wouldn't be able to leave.

The three horses sped up as they crossed the gate, the white mare in front. The knights had been informed that three riders would be leaving the city in the dead of night, and so Arthur, Lancelot and Gwaine were allowed to pass through unhindered.

As they came by a fork in the road, they slowed down their pace so that Arthur could decide which way.

"You do know where you're going, don't you?" asked Gwaine.

At that moment, the prince took out the map. It wasn't easy to read it by moonlight but he knew at least that they had a long way to go North East before actually needing directions. In fact, he had studied that map so intensely that he could almost recall it in his mind entirely. He had found it hidden inside the pages of the Book of Dragonlord, and immediately he had seen it as a sign that this journey was inevitable.

"Got anymore surprises like that?" said Gwaine teasingly.

"You have no idea," whispered the prince. And then he added, "I hope the two of you can keep up," as his horse rushed forward.

It wasn't a very complicated road. After passing through three kingdoms, they would come to a mountain path that would lead them south. At the end of that trail was an area marked as the Valley of the Wind which was just another name for Aria's Cradle. The road through the mountain was the key; without it the journey would take at least twice as long. The search for Merlin would begin in Aria's Cradle but it was possible that they would have to go further, and that was mostly the reason why Arthur wanted to make haste.

For the next three days, they rode almost without rest, sleeping under the stars and speaking little. Around the campfire, Arthur told them about all that he had read in the Book of Dragonlords, including all the connections between Brittanicus and Pendragon, but unfortunately he couldn't answer all of their questions. They were mostly curious about the extent of a Dragonlord's power but the book contained nothing of the sort. They speculated about Merlin's gift more than once, but Arthur didn't have much patience for that topic. After while the tiredness settled in and the evenings became quieter. When they spoke, it was only to complain about the weather or to marvel at Arthur's inability to pack or to cook.

On the fourth day, they had run out of food so they stopped at an inn in which Arthur purchased a few additional blankets and socks and Gwaine got into a considerable amount of trouble. After that, they went from inn to farmhouse to tavern, sleeping in beds when they could and under the stars when it wasn't raining. Their clothes became so dirty, thorn and wet that the job of hiding who they were became much easier. On the whole, Arthur was glad to have company for such a long journey. Lancelot had little conversation but he could be relied on to find food on the spot and cook it nicely on the campfire. Gwaine had his sense of humor to keep their spirits high and he was always welcomed wherever he went whether he was known or not. He could keep a constant flow of stories during the long nights, which kept Arthur from wondering too much about what he was going to say to Merlin if and when they found him.

On the seventh day, they had reached the bottom of the mountains and the ground was going steadily upwards. They took a fork in the road which was indicated on the map. After a while, it seemed to have led them to a dead end but Arthur was convinced otherwise. They decided to camp in a clearing on the side of the mountain and by nightfall Arthur's bad mood at being lost had turned into sheer grumpiness.

"Maybe we should go back and try the other road," offered Lancelot for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"That will lead us around the mountain and too far up north," replied Arthur. His eyes were fixed on the map. "The path is there," he added, pointing at the lines on the parchment. "I don't understand why it's not here."

"What about these words?" said Gwaine.

Arthur had considered the symbols around the map as well but they were meaningless to him.

"It's in the Old Language," he said.

The comment made Gwaine jump in alert. "Read it!" he cried out.

"You have to be joking," snorted Lancelot.

"You're a descendant of the five Dragonlord houses, Arthur. It could be some kind of spell. You should read it out loud."

They all stared at each other for a while and then Arthur glanced at the wall of mountain that was rising before them. Why not, he thought.

It wasn't easy for him to read something that didn't sound like anything he knew, but he managed to utter all of the words. He had felt foolish before, but this was a new level of awkwardness for him. And just when he was about to give up, which wasn't improving his mood, Gwaine and Lancelot burst out laughing.

"You should see your face," said Gwaine, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

When they went to sleep, the knights were still laughing.

On the following morning, at sunrise, when Arthur opened his eyes suddenly the path was there. It was as though the side of the mountain had split apart to let them through. It was even wide enough for the horses to ride in single file.

"You should see your faces now," said Arthur smartly, glancing back at the two knights who were rubbing their eyes in disbelief.

"No one could have expected this," said Lancelot in wonder as he took the first step into the path.

"You can go ahead and tell Uther that his son produced magic if you want," said Gwaine. "I'm going to stick to the story of Lady Vivien."

"It could be a trap," warned Lancelot who was always the first to point out their oath to protect Arthur.

"I don't care if it's a trap," replied the prince. "It opened for a reason. I'm going in there to find Merlin."

The others could not argue with that.

The road through the mountain wasn't even as long as Arthur had expected. By the end of the afternoon, they were walking into wide open ground with sunlight over their heads and green grass under their feet. The Valley of the Wind was spread out before them. It was a large enclave surrounded by mountains as far as the eyes could see. The air was warm and it smelled of parsley and lavender. At the bottom of the valley there was a large lake mirroring the sky.

"It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen," murmured Lancelot.

Gwaine was unmovable. "I'll agree with you if we can find an inn."

It was a little tricky to guide their horses down into the valley especially with their tired legs but after a few hours they finally managed to find the inn that Gwaine for longing for. It was a small sized establishment on the side of the road, clearly aiming to offer food and shelter to the travelers from the southern path. The air smelled of fresh bread and roasted meet. The only odd addition to the place was a circle of white rocks around the main house. It gave the impression that the rocks were sticking out of the ground like teeth.

"That's not a very effective fence, is it?" said Gwaine as he leapt over the harmless wall.

"It depends on what you want to keep out," said Lancelot darkly.

When they pushed the doors opened, about ten or twelve pairs of curious eyes turned in their direction. Arthur and his two knights were used to stares by now and they did not waste time to find a comfortable table and order three meals of whatever was available. The innkeeper was a man with a shaved head and many missing teeth, who kept warning them about the price of things.

"Is there any mead to go with that lovely diner?" asked Gwaine when he was halfway through his meal.

"Of course, if you can afford it," sneered the innkeeper.

"I'll have some red wine," commanded the prince.

The replies that he got were a low growl from the innkeeper and a simultaneous nudge from Gwaine and Lancelot.

"Always with the wine," complained Gwaine. "Can't you drink mead like everybody else?"

The innkeeper was still staring at them blankly.

"If you want a room for the night, it will cost you extra," he mumbled. "And we haven't got no wine."

Gwaine's reaction was to roll his eyes up. "Is that so? Then why should we stay here?" he said casually. "Is there any other inn nearby? I'm not sure at all that your establishment can accommodate the three of us, not if you don't have any wine."

"Suit yourself," snorted the innkeeper. "You ain't going nowhere with the curfew so you can either pay for a room or sleep on a chair."

Lancelot moved to the edge of his seat. "Curfew?" he asked.

"Curfew," repeated the shaved man, enunciating clearly as though Lancelot was a stupid child. "It means that there ain't no one going out after sundown."

"That's interesting," murmured Arthur to Gwaine and Lancelot.

He was stroking the hilt of his sword absent-mindedly when he noticed a small boy of maybe ten or eleven staring at him through the bars of an empty chair.

"They're not like us. They are allowed to go out," said the boy timidly.

The innkeeper made disapproving growl and left without a word.

"You don't have to be afraid of us. Why do you think we are allowed to go out while everybody else isn't? " inquired Arthur, aware of the uneasy stirring around them.

"You're knights, aren't you?"

Gwaine and Lancelot smiled conspicuously and the boy's timid demeanor turned into surprise and excitement.

"The rule is that only the knights are allowed to go out after nightfall," he explained. "Well… the knights and Lord Merlin, of course."

Arthur almost choked. "Lord Merlin," he managed to say.

The boy seemed a little unsure about what he had just said.

"Speak," said Lancelot softly. "You don't have to fear us."

The boy relaxed a little and then he came next to Lancelot. The knight offered him a piece of bread which brought a smile back to the young face.

"He's new so you might not have heard of him," said the boy. "He had the idea for the curfew and he has magic, that's for sure. He's the new Dragonlord and Lord Balinor was his father. Some people reckon he can lift the curse. Others say he's just an outlander but we have to address him properly anyways, don't we?"

Arthur exchanged a glance with Gwaine and Lancelot.

"So what do you address him as exactly?" asked Arthur innocently. He wanted to hear it again just to be sure.

"He's Lord Merlin, of course. Lord Merlin Brittanicus."