Chapter 15

Arthur Pendragon awoke with a start. He had been dreaming of Camelot and Guinevere. Merlin had been in his dream as well, sitting next to him on the Round Table with a sort of bright aura shining through him. It was quite a beautiful light until it began to fade and suddenly Merlin was no longer there and Arthur came to an abrupt awakening.

The first thing that he noticed was pain on his lower back and a bump on his head. Then he realised that he was lying on the hard stone floor with nothing but a small pile of hay for a pillow. He had been put there with his chain mail still on, which could explain the soreness to the upper part of his body.

"Good, you're awake," said Galahad's voice and Arthur distinctively heard the irregular footsteps coming towards him.

"I fell asleep?" he asked as he was sitting up. His brain still felt a little drowsy.

"I'm really sorry about that, Sire," said Galahad. He handed a piece of bread to the prince. "I only know a few spells and that's because it was my father's wish that I studied them. I don't usually use magic, but you were going out there when Merlin especially told us all to stay in so…"

The recollections of the previous night began to flow and Arthur sprang to his feet.

"Merlin! Gwaine! Where are they?"

"Calm down, your royal jumpiness!"

Arthur's eyes immediately found the speaker. Gwaine was sitting with his back and his head against the wall. He kept his eyes closed. Arthur had never seen the knight looking so tired and weary. He braced himself for what he was about to hear.

"Merlin?" he asked.

"He's fine," said Gwaine, opening only one eye to scrutinize Arthur. He then added, "I knew that he would hesitate to use magic in front of you that's why I offered to stay. A good thing I did too. That's a Hell of a nasty curse."

"Merlin's tried many spells," continued Galahad, "but the daemons are the embodiment of the dark magic that lurks within the Black Lake. There isn't much hope to ever get rid of them. He thought that the Great Dragon would help, but it seems that Kilgarrah is too far away to answer to Merlin's call."

"But where is he?"

Arthur was glancing around the Great Hall. Most of the refugees from last night had gone, but there were a few women cooking on the round fireplace and a few servants making the place tidy again.

"Apparently he sent him to Camelot to look after you," answered Galahad meaningfully.

"Not the dragon! Merlin!" replied Arthur, slightly irritated.

The knight seemed taken aback. "He's sleeping I guess. It's been a long night. We don't have many rooms but Merlin took the Court Physician's chambers in the Western Tower. We haven't had a physician for a long time."

Arthur was more than irritated now. "Does he think that he can be Dragonlord, knight, sorcerer and physician as well?" burst out the prince.

"No, actually," said Galahad. "He would be a great physician if given the chance, but the villagers are too afraid of him."

"Afraid of Merlin?" repeated Arthur indignantly. "How can anyone be afraid of Merlin?"

It was Gwaine who gave the answer. "You haven't seen what I saw last night. Even I was afraid of him." When Arthur only gave a derisive snort, Gwaine sat up straight to look the prince in the eyes. "He's more powerful than we imagined, and those things out there, these daemons, they know. It's like they want to feed on his magic. He can't keep doing this every night. He'll die."

"What do you suggest?" Arthur asked Gwaine.

The conversation with Galahad was resurfacing in his mind. Merlin needs to understand that he can do no more for the race of dragons and Dragonlords. However the prince could not bring himself to accept that there was no hope for these people. It was as though the caved in wall for the bleak inscription were speaking to him, pointing him the way. But what of Merlin? Was it his destiny to lift the curse of his grandfather? Would he die trying?

"Here's an idea: talk to him," said Arthur's knight as he leaned back on the wall and closed his eyes again. "But, you know, give him a few hours of sleep first. Oh and Lancelot told me to tell you that he's going to spend some time with Merlin's knights. Those were his words. Merlin's knights. Imagine that…"

After that, Gwaine fell silent and his heavy breathing rapidly turned into snores. His head slumped sideways and Arthur brought him a blanket.

"What?" he said grumpily as Galahad threw him a strangely surprised look.

"Nothing. I just think you're one strange prince, but in a good way. Merlin said you were special…"

Arthur didn't let Galahad finish that thought.

"Where is the king? I should be presented to him. Don't you have any form of court ceremonial?"

"The king no longer leaves his bedchamber," answered Galahad, stroking his bearded chin. "He is too old and too sick. His son, Lord Brunor, rarely leaves his father's room. Brunor should have been named crown prince some time ago but he married a farmer's daughter against his father's wish. There is a rumour now that, being a Brittanicus and a Dragonlord, Merlin may become the heir to the throne."

"Merlin!" gasped Arthur. It seemed to be a reaction that he was having more and more often.

"I just said 'may become'. It doesn't change the fact that Merlin cannot stay here," replied Galahad sternly.

"Right… Excuse me."

It was too much. He couldn't even believe that he was having this conversation. His mind felt numb. It was trying to tie in important words together to paint the picture of a person but it just didn't make sense. Sorcerer, Dragonlord, cousin, knight, Lord, heir: these couldn't be words to describe Merlin. Merlin was a servant. He was a friend. He was the annoying little brother allowed to tag along. Or was he? Maybe he had changed? How could he know? They hadn't even spoken yet. But he couldn't just burst into his chambers. That wouldn't be… appropriate. After all, he was just a guest here.

He got up in search of some breakfast instead. He knew he would be able to speak to Merlin soon and the few hours ahead were just what he needed to think about what he was going to say.

He had just finished a particularly delicious slice of cheese that one of the women had brought him – blushing and giggling in the process – when the giant Gregory burst in through the wooden door under the golden shield. The knight immediately rushed towards Galahad and they spoke rapidly in hushed voices. That doesn't sound good, thought Arthur at once.

Galahad was limping towards him now.

"What's going on?" said the prince as all eyes turned to him.

"Merlin," said Galahad as though it held all the answers.

He stepped inadvertently on his bad leg and his face twisted in pain.

"Follow Gregory. I will catch up with you," commanded the knight.

The prince was not going to let the large Gregory pull his arm out of its socket again so he dashed through the door first and up the stairs to his right, aiming for the Western Tower.

He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. Galahad's face as he had said Merlin… There had to be something wrong.

"Second door," called Gregory from behind him.

As soon as he saw the door marked Court Physician, Arthur pushed it open without knocking.

It was as though he was back in Camelot. He had stepped out of a totally strange place and into a world that he knew. The room was exactly like Gaius's chambers. There were tables of potions and opened books everywhere. There was a strong smell of herbs and burnt bread. And in a corner near the fireplace, there was a tall man with a blue tunic and a shaved head, and he was holding down Merlin's struggling body strongly by the shoulders.

"Who are you?" yelled the man on top of Merlin's wincing and moaning. "I sent for Galahad!"

"Him Prince Arthur, Sire," said Gregory who had just arrived as well.

Arthur's eyes were fixed on Merlin.

"Right then! I'm Lord Brunor," bellowed the tall man. "Now that we are introduced, you can help me hold him down."

But Arthur was rooted on the spot. A painful memory had returned to him in a flash: Merlin twisting in pain, Merlin struggling to breathe, Merlin poisoned by the Mortaeus Flower.

"What did you do?" yelled Arthur accusingly.

"I will not justify myself to you, Pendragon," called back the king's son and Arthur had to admire his restraint after being accused so openly. Merlin yelped in pain and Brunor glared at Arthur. "He needs help! Where is Galahad? Get over here, Pendragon!"

The prince hardly knew what to do. He was the heir to the throne, a warrior and a ruler, but he was not a physician. Merlin was covered in sweat and his body kept twitching. The sleeve of his shirt was pulled up on his right arm and there were some cuts and scratches glittering with red blood.

"What can I do?" he mumbled.

"Just hold him while I get Galahad," said Brunor.

He seized Arthur wrists and pulled his hands down on Merlin's shoulders. The warlock kept writhing and struggling. The knot in Arthur's stomach appeared again as he watched the pain on the young face. But it was all a little strange because the wound on his arm did not even look so bad.

"Galahad! Where have you been?" said Brunor all of a sudden.

Arthur glanced momentarily at the door and saw the limping knight rushing in.

"It's not exactly easy for me going up those godforsaken stairs. What happened, Sire?"

Galahad was making his way as best as he could around the chairs and tables and piles of books.

"He was helping me tend to my father," related Lord Brunor while glancing at Merlin. "I noticed his injury and offered to help dress it properly. He's done so much for my father… We came here and he asked me to pour some water on his arm, which I did, and then he just… collapsed."

Galahad was standing next to Arthur now. The expression went from worry to shock.

"Where did you get the water from?" he asked, and Arthur could hear the urgency in his voice.

"From my water skin," muttered Brunor. His face had gone white. "I filled it in the lake. Oh no… The lake!"

Galahad was on the move. He had gone straight towards a shelf that was filled with small bottles.

"I'm sorry! I didn't think!" burst out Lord Brunor.

"No, you sure didn't…"

"What?" bellowed Arthur. He couldn't bear the look of pain on Merlin's face. "What's going on?"

Galahad was examining the bottles one after the other, but he kept discarding each and every one.

"The water from the lake doesn't agree with Merlin," he said darkly. "It's part of the evil that lies there. It only affects him, and it will probably affect you now that I think of it."

Merlin's struggling and twisting had decreased a bit, but the absence of color on his face, the sound of his breathing and the sweat on his brows were all signs that his condition was only worsening.

"We have to do something," said Arthur. He was fighting hard the impulse to shake Merlin into awareness.

"We made a potion in case it happened again," said Galahad. "If I can just find it…"

"It happened before?" asked Arthur.

Brunor was standing next to him now. "Yes, but never quite like this. It's getting worse. I would never wish something like this for anyone."

Arthur felt suddenly extremely bad for having accused Lord Brunor so boldly. He was so used to stories of betrayal and murdered princes that he had jumped to that conclusion too hastily. It was obvious in the way that Brunor was looking at Merlin that he cared for him as much as the other knights.

"Sire, I apologize. I…"

"I would never wish him harm, even if he should become heir to the throne," explained Brunor with conviction. "He helped my wife deliver my first born son. All that I hold dear in this world I owe to him."

"I've got it!" said Galahad out of the blue.

Arthur glanced down at Merlin's face. He looked so pale and weak.

Galahad did not waste a second. He poured a clear liquid into Merlin's mouth and the young warlock immediately began to stir. Suddenly, he took a long breath as though he had just emerged from deep water.

The three men watched over him in silence for a few minutes. Galahad wrapped a white cloth around Merlin's arm and wiped his forehead delicately. At length, the limping knight began to make his way towards the door, but Arthur did not feel like moving. He took a chair and sat down next to the small bed.

"He's going to be fine by morning," said Galahad. "Remember not to drink from the lake, Sire. Camelot needs you safe and sound."

"I must go back to my father," said Brunor. "I will have a room prepared for you for the night. If you need anything, you can ask the servant boy Lucian."

The king's son pressed a friendly hand on the other prince's shoulder, glanced momentarily at Merlin, and then he left.

Well, Merlin, thought Arthur with sudden realisation. I guess it's time for that talk.