Author's note:

Thanks for the reviews. It's always to hear one's work is appreciated.

There is a lot in this chapter. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 13

Arthur felt numb. His mind was racing to find coherent words to say.

Merlin. Knocked over by Merlin. Merlin isn't dead. Merlin is here. Follow the trail of clumsiness. Lord Merlin Brittanicus. He's here.

The silhouette in front of him looked so much taller than it should. Arthur noticed the high boots, the chain mail and the sword, all of them so uncharacteristic of Merlin. Their eyes met, but no words came out.

"Gwaine! Lancelot!" gasped Merlin, rushing to his friends to give them a quick brotherly hug.

Get up, the prince told himself irritably. You look stupid. Just get up!

"Well, I see that your manners haven't improved," he let out in his most arrogant tone as he was struggling awkwardly. His sword had managed to get stuck under a tree root somehow.

Suddenly, a strong muscular hand grabbed him and pulled him up. Arthur landed heavily on his two feet only to find himself starring at a man the size of a giant.

"What are you doing here?" he heard Merlin say directly to Gwaine and Lancelot. "Is anything wrong? Gaius?"

Arthur was painfully aware that he was being ignored on purpose, which only made him angrier.

"Gaius is fine," said Lancelot straight away.

"Not thanks to you," snorted Arthur.

Lancelot threw him a disapproving glare. "He's worried. We were all worried…" said the knight softly.

They were cut off by a long howling in the distance. The knights all turned to stare at the fallen wolf. They were all dressed in black and chain mail, carrying torches and swords at the ready. They had the look of men who were on a hunt.

"Your timing isn't great," said Merlin, lowering his voice.

"No kidding," growled the prince.

The other knights were standing in semi-circle around Merlin, except for the huge one who was positioned next to Arthur. The heir to the throne of Camelot had never felt so unimportant in his life.

"What's going on?" said Gwaine in a serious tone.

"That would take a long time to explain," murmured Merlin. "Let's just say for now that you just made the rest of the pack very angry."

"Not me," corrected Gwaine. "Arthur."

They're eyes met again as another low howling filled the air. Merlin broke the stare first. He gestured to the tall knight next to Arthur.

"Gregory, you will take Arthur, Gwaine and Lancelot to the keep," said the warlock commandingly. "The rest of us will draw the wolves away from here."

Arthur was in shock again. Merlin giving orders just didn't feel natural. But from the way the others were nodding in approval, the prince did not dare disagree.

"Let me help you," said Gwaine with his sword well in hand. His usual nonchalance seemed momentarily forgotten.

Merlin nodded and then he turned to Lancelot.

"Go with Gregory and Arthur," he said. "We will return before the night is over."

This is ridiculous, thought Arthur, annoyed beyond belief. It couldn't be happening. Merlin couldn't give orders. Merlin could hardly put one foot in front of the other without making a fool out of himself. He was just a servant. Merlin should be joking around and making witty comments, not wearing black and pretending to be an arrogant prat.

"I am not letting you out of my sight," burst out Arthur, aware that he was almost yelling.

"This isn't up for discussion," cut in Merlin.

"I won't receive orders from you," snapped back Arthur.

But at that precise moment there was more howling and barking and it was getting closer. They could hear the branches break under the weight of the wolves. A cold wind swept through the forest and Arthur felt the hair stand up at the back of his neck.

"Go," said Merlin with a glance at Lancelot.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do!" shouted Arthur.

But Merlin was unmovable. He wasn't even looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the giant knight.

"I don't care how you do it, knock him on the head if you have to, but you will take Prince Arthur to the keep," said Merlin forcefully.

The prince felt the strong grip on his arm again.

"Come with me, Prince Arthur," mumbled the tall knight in a low pitch voice, and then they were off.

Arthur struggled, kicked, pulled, pushed, but there was no getting away from Gregory. They were making their way at a fast pace and Merlin was no longer in sight. Lancelot was following but he had trouble keeping up with the huge leaps.

"Drop torch," called back the giant knight.

Lancelot did as he was told and dropped the torch on the ground where its light instantly died out. The knight Gregory did the same and now they were making their way in the dark. Arthur felt as though someone had put out both of his eyes. Gregory was pulling him stubbornly with unbelievable strength.

"I can't see anything!" cried out Lancelot.

"Don't worry. Almost there," replied the tall knight.

Arthur's arm felt as though it was being pulled out of its socket. They kept running in the dark until the howling and barking of the wolves grew faint. And then, all of a sudden, Arthur and Lancelot were being shoved into an opening in a high wall of stone. Straight ahead into a long and narrow corridor they went, and then up the stairs. The walls were so close that Arthur could hear the clanging of his sword and armor on the stone.

When finally they reached the top of the stairs, they came into a large room that was dimly lit. Gregory pushed them on until Lancelot fell on his knees and said, "Enough!"

Arthur wheeled around. A loud howling filled the air again. Glancing rapidly around the room, the prince realized that part of the wall on his right was caved in. A pale moonlight was shining through. The wolf cries were coming in high and clear.

Without even thinking about it, he took a step back towards the door.

"Stay here," said the tall knight with a strong accent.

Arthur felt his boiling temper rising. "No, I will not stay here. There are men in trouble out there."

The giant knight was pushing him back with only one strong hand.

"You stay here or I knock you on head," mumbled Gregory.

Lancelot was in front of Arthur before the prince had time to blink. "I'm sure Merlin was only joking about that," said the younger knight.

The giant Gregory snorted loudly. "Merlin no joking. Ever."

"It's fine. We're not going anywhere," said Lancelot.

Arthur was amazed at the control in his knight's voice. The other seemed to relax.

"I get Galahad," he said bluntly.

He disappeared through a wooden door on the left-end side of the room.

"I do not think we need to fear them," said Lancelot reassuringly with a friendly hand on Arthur's shoulder.

The prince was still in the process of managing his anger. He let out a long sigh and started to pace impatiently around the hall.

Lancelot was shaking his head slightly in dismay. "It brings into perspective the splendor of Camelot, does it not?"

Arthur cast a circular look around the large chamber and noticed for the first time that it was actually the Great Hall. On his left, the wall was high and one could easily tell that it had once been beautiful. Five long banners had been drawn directly on the stone. It was the five Dragonlord houses, including Pendragon, but now the paint was scratched and faded. The door through which Gregory had disappeared lay below a large round golden shield with a black dragon painted on the front. In the center of the Hall, there was an open fireplace with rocks and logs around it to use as chairs. At the end of the Hall, where the throne should have been, there was only a pile of hay and a few blankets.

But the most desolate sight was the caved in wall on the right-end side. It was as though a large boulder had landed on the roof and brought down that part of the keep along with it. Where in Camelot there were beautiful stained glass windows, here it was a pile of rocks bigger than a man's height.

As Lancelot was working on the fire, an inscription on the wall caught Arthur's attention. Next to the opening on the wall, there was an imprint on the stone in the shape of a sword. There was black around it as though it had been burnt by fire. And above the outline of the absent sword, there were a few roughly shaped words. A rush of sadness filled Arthur's heart as he read the two lines.

Here is the Last Home of the Dragonlords.

There is no Hope for the World of Men