CHAPTER TWELVE

The parchment was stained in blood.

Morgana's message had arrived on horseback, pierced with the same arrow that had killed Sir Orvyn. His body was draped limply over the saddle, the shaft sticking out of his chest, sightless eyes staring at nothing.

The rest of his patrol had not returned.

The celebrations came to an abrupt halt. The townsfolk fled to their homes, the servants and soldiers hastened back to their posts, and the ladies of the court sought sanctuary in their chambers.

Meanwhile, Arthur assembled his knights and advisors in the War Room. Merlin was instructed to add another seat for Veleda at the table. She took her place next to Mordred, while Merlin moved to stand behind Arthur.

His heart was pounding.

"'Dearest brother," Arthur read aloud. "Tomorrow, my army marches on Camelot. We outnumber your men five to one. I would tell you that this is your chance to surrender, but we both know that will never happen. So you have two choices. Meet me in battle, or cower in your citadel and wait for death.'"

The silence in the council hall was so absolute they could have heard a pin drop.

"There is a postscript," Arthur said heavily. "'Emrys. That was an impressive display. But you should know that you are not the only one who can draw power from others."

Veleda's hands flew to her mouth, but her gasp of horror was still audible.

"'You should never have left your allies unprotected. The magic of the Druid Elders is mine now."

A sick feeling settled in the pit of Merlin's stomach. He had noted Annessa's absence, and recalled that Gaius had news he never had the opportunity to pass on. The fire had been a distraction after all; while Merlin had been busy tackling the flames, Morgana had secured for herself a power source that would enhance her magic tenfold. The Druids would not join with her willingly – their magic would be ripped from them by brute force. They likely would not survive the experience.

And neither would anyone else.

"'And do not forget: I have a dragon. Camelot is-'" Arthur stopped, refusing to give voice to the final word of her message, but they all knew what went unsaid.

Doomed.

Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly. "The floor is open to suggestions."

"The citadel is strong," Leon said. "We could make our stand here."

"We cannot house the entire population of Camelot," Geoffrey warned. "Our resources are already stretched, and people from the outlying villages will be driven here as Morgana's army marches south. We cannot survive a siege for long."

"Morgana doesn't want a siege, she wants to destroy us," Percival said.

"And she knows this castle inside out," Gwaine added. "She has taken the city in the past, what is to stop her from doing it again?"

"Emrys," Arthur said.

Merlin managed not to groan out loud, but it was a close thing.

"You put a lot of faith in this man, sire," Geoffrey ventured cautiously. "Do you even know who he is?"

"He is Camelot's great defender. He will not allow any harm to come to our city."

"But who is he?" Lord Eldron asked. He was one of the older members of the council, and he was always the first to question Arthur's decisions. In this instance, however, Merlin couldn't blame him. Blind faith was a hard thing to ask of anyone. "Where is he? How are we to formulate a plan of action when we know nothing about this sorcerer?"

"Lord Eldron has a point," Leon said, though there was reluctance in his tone. "We have seen evidence of his power, but we don't know everything Emrys can do, or what his limitations are. More importantly, we don't know what he will do."

"Why don't we ask him?" Gwaine suggested.

"We would have to find him first," Percival said.

"Gaius?" Arthur asked. "You tend to have... insights into these sorts of matters."

To his credit, Gaius didn't even glance in Merlin's direction. "I wish I could help you, sire, but the identity of the one called Emrys is a well-guarded secret."

Arthur sighed. "Of course it is."

"Morgana has been hunting him for years," Gaius explained. "His ability to protect you is reliant on his anonymity."

"I suppose I can understand that. But surely he could reveal himself to a select, trusted few."

"No offence, Arthur, but there has been more than one traitor in this court," Gwaine said.

Arthur winced, but didn't deny the truth of his statement. "Then it would seem we have to make our plans without him."

Merlin shifted guiltily. He didn't want his reticence to hinder the war effort but, even if he found some excuse to pull Arthur aside for a private conversation, he feared revealing himself now would only serve as a distraction and that was the last thing Arthur needed.

"Sire," Mordred spoke up. "There may be a way you could talk with Emrys."

"Oh?"

"The Druids have a means of communicating with each other. Through magic." He waited, uncertain how the suggestion of sorcery would be received, but Arthur waved him on. "If Emrys is close, I could try to reach out to him."

'You're offering to be my mouthpiece?' Merlin asked.

'This way you can keep your secret, while still offering your King counsel in his hour of need.'

'It's a good idea,' Merlin admitted.

"Do it," Arthur said.

Mordred closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his temple, frowning in apparent concentration – unnecessary theatrics, but impressive to the court, at least.

'What would you like me to say?'

Merlin wasn't sure. The decisions made in this court would impact every man, woman and child in Camelot, and one false step could bring ruin upon them all. He was so out of his depth, and had never felt more like a bumbling manservant than he did in this moment.

'I guess, ask him what he wants to know? I'll answer to the best of my ability.'

"Emrys bids you to speak, my lord," Mordred said aloud. "He is listening."

A few of the councillors and knights scanned the room suspiciously, as though expecting Emrys to have suddenly appeared in their midst. But Merlin remained overlooked, as always. He supposed it was a good thing.

"Emrys," Arthur began, and it sent a strange thrill through Merlin to have his King address him by his prophetic title. "First, I would like to thank you for everything you have done. Words are not enough to convey our gratitude, but I have been informed that you seek no reward. I hope that someday you will feel able to come forward, so I may at least thank you in person."

'If we survive this,' Merlin thought sombrely. He hated the idea that the moment of truth may never come.

"The threat of Morgana must be dealt with first," Mordred said.

"Yes, of course. Mordred, the letter...?"

"He knows."

"We have two options, to make our stand here, or to meet her in battle. Which should we choose?"

Merlin knew which option he preferred – the one where Arthur was locked away safely in his chambers and never faced Morgana at all. He also knew which option he should avoid – his vision showed an open battlefield. But he could not sustain a shield around the entire city. 'Camelot will not survive a direct attack from Morgana and her sorcerers. She has the power now to reduce the walls to rubble. Your people would be slaughtered.'

Dismay swept through the room as Mordred conveyed his words.

"You cannot protect us?"

Merlin felt a pang at the sorrow and disappointment he could hear in Arthur's voice.

'I could raise a shield, but it wouldn't last long.'

Upon hearing this, Arthur addressed Veleda. "Could the Druids lend their power to the spell, as they did before?"

"Yes, my lord. But the combined power of the Elders far surpasses our own. I fear it would only be a matter of time before Morgana would break through."

"Then we must ride out to meet her," Arthur concluded. "It is the only way to protect our people."

Dread crept up Merlin's spine.

"As I understand it, there are a number of threats we need to counter. The army of Saxons, the sorcerers, the Druid Elders held under duress, Morgana herself, and the dragon. Have I missed anything?"

Merlin's throat was dry. Laid out like that, the odds seemed insurmountable.

"Let's break it down," Arthur suggested. "The army. They are ordinary men, but they outnumber us."

Merlin drew a slow breath. One problem at a time. 'I can enchant the armour of your soldiers to deflect most blows. It won't be infallible, but it could give them an edge.'

The rumble that went through the room was more positive this time. Merlin wished he could have done something like that sooner, but the evidence of magic would have alarmed the soldiers more than it helped.

"We can help with that," Veleda said. Silently, she chided: 'You need to conserve your energy.'

'Thank you,' Merlin answered.

"That is a significant advantage," Leon said. "We have the best knights in the five kingdoms. If we can limit the enemy's mobility and prevent them from outflanking us, we stand a much better chance."

"Morgana marches from the North," Percival said, rolling a map out onto the table. "There is only one path through the White Mountains that her army can take. If we reach it first, we can trap them in a bottleneck."

"Where is the pass at its narrowest?" Arthur asked.

Merlin knew what Percival was going to say before he said it.

"Camlann, sire."

Merlin wanted to scream. He wanted to snatch the map off the table and tear it to shreds. He wanted to steal Arthur away and hide him from the world, free will and Camelot be damned.

How could fate be so cruel as to bring them together, only to tear them apart?

"Any objections?" Arthur asked.

Merlin railed helplessly, silently, fists clenched and furious tears burning at the corners of his eyes.

'Emrys?' Mordred prompted.

They had no choice. It was the best strategy they had, with the highest chance of victory. Any other location would see Camelot's knights surrounded and cut down.

Merlin said nothing.

"Camlann it is," Arthur said. "Our next issue is the sorcerers."

Merlin hesitated. 'Many of them are druids,' he reminded Mordred, not sure how the young knight would feel about fighting his own.

'They chose to follow Morgana, to seek power and violence over peace. We will do what we must.'

'We should at least tell them about Camelot's new laws. Some may choose to defect once they learn that there are other avenues open to them.'

Mordred passed on the suggestion.

"You can communicate with them, as you do now with Mordred?"

"He can, sire," Mordred confirmed.

"Our unjust laws against magic are the reason many joined Morgana's cause. Let them know that if they renounce her, there will be a place for them in Camelot."

Veleda bowed her head. "You are a merciful king, Arthur Pendragon. It will not be forgotten."

"What of those who choose not to defect?" Gwaine asked. "Our swords count for little against magic."

'I will do what I can.'

'You are going to have your hands full with Morgana,' Mordred argued."Direct attacks will be the least effective," he explained to the knights. "If you charge at a sorcerer, you will be blasted back before your stroke can fall. However, if they are distracted, a skilled archer could take them down. It must be a kill shot, directly to the throat or through the heart, because a wounded sorcerer is all the more dangerous."

"Noted," Arthur said. "Sir Leon, you will assemble a squad of our most talented marksmen. Once a sorcerer is identified, shielded footmen will advance and create the necessary diversion for the archers to do their work."

"Yes, sire."

"Emrys, what of the Druid Elders? Should we mount a rescue?"

'Morgana will be drawing on their power. If we can break her connection, it would even the playing field between us. But I do not know how or where she will be holding them.'

"They will be well guarded," Mordred continued. "I am happy to volunteer for that mission, sire. I should be able to break whatever spell is binding them to her will."

"You will need back up," Arthur said. "I can-"

'NO!'

The members of the court flinched as one, and Merlin realised he had shouted loud enough to be heard by the entire room.

"Whoa," Gwaine exclaimed. "Guess Emrys feels strongly about that one."

'I swore not to hurt him,' Mordred said in a wounded tone.

'I'm sorry, Mordred. I trust your sincerity. But I cannot tempt fate. I need you as far away from Arthur as possible.'

"Don't worry, princess, I can watch Mordred's back," Gwaine offered.

"Thank you, Sir Gwaine. That leaves Morgana-"

'She's mine,' Merlin growled fiercely.

"Emrys will face her," Mordred said. "Truthfully, he is the only one who can."

"Right. And then there is the matter of the dragon."

'Oh.' Merlin nearly laughed out loud. 'That part's easy. I'm a dragonlord.'

This announcement was met with shock from the majority of the court, and Arthur was no exception. "What? I thought Balinor was the last of the dragonlords! That power died with him."

'It didn't.'

'Balinor was your father?' Mordred guessed.

'Yes.' The grief washed over him again, but he pushed it aside. 'Do not tell Arthur, just say that I am the last, and Aithusa will obey my command. I can summon her here now, if he wants me to.'

The councillors seemed alarmed by the idea, but Arthur considered it for a few moments before he shook his head. "Better to rob Morgana of her most powerful weapon when she least expects it."

Merlin wanted to say that a dragon was not a weapon, but a noble creature who deserved freedom and respect. It was not Aithusa's fault that the light she was named for had been twisted into darkness. He wanted to help her to heal, if he could.

If he lived beyond tomorrow. If Arthur didn't fall, and take Merlin's soul with him.

"There are few more details to be arranged," Arthur said, "but the foundations of our plan are in place. Knights, ready your men. We ride for Camlann at first light."

"Yes, sire," the men said in unison, and rose from their chairs.

Arthur beckoned Mordred over. "Please convey my deepest gratitude to Emrys. We would be lost without him."

'Don't thank me yet,' Merlin thought morosely.

'You sound as thought the battle is already fought and lost.'

The image of Arthur's death flashed before his mind's eye once more. 'I fear that it is.'

'Do not give up hope, Emrys. You are the most powerful warlock to have ever walked the earth. Life and magic bend to your will. If anyone can defy fate, it is you.'

Merlin drank in the sight of Arthur, safe and well, and prayed to the gods that he would live to see another sunset. 'I hope you're right.'

ooOOoo