A/N - Thank you for all the reviews and for your patience. Those reviews are the things that keep nudging my mind reminding me that I have people waiting for the next chapter so they do have an impact. I want to, once again, acknowledge my betas who have stuck with me over the course of time. Thanks again and please enjoy.

Chapter Thirteen

Eryl had continued to have disturbing visions as he and Grigor trekked out of the western forests and headed toward the forest of Essotier. The ancient seer was getting precious little sleep and Grigor was starting to worry about his mentor. The young apprentice had asked Eryl what the visions were but never got an identifiable answer. All he knew was that a dreadful mistake had been made by one of the druid communities and that it had thrown off the delicate balance of an ancient prophecy. Eryl was being so tight lipped about what the visions had been that Grigor had finally given up asking about them and simply tended to his mentor's physical needs to the best of his ability.

Grigor realized that they were not headed directly to Camelot, as he thought when Eryl and he left their remote forest home, for Eryl had changed course as soon as they crossed over into the forest of Essotier. It didn't take him long to figure out that the old seer meant to visit the druid community that he seemed to feel had made the mistake that would cause the death of the immortal one known as Emrys.

Grigor knew the basics of the prophecy concerning Emrys and he was also aware that the incarnation of the immortal one had come to pass sometime in the last two decades. What he failed to understand was how someone who is supposed to be immortal could die because of a mistake made by someone else, least of all by one of the druid communities.

To Grigor it seemed that they were wandering aimlessly, because Eryl changed the direction they were traveling several times after each round of visions. In the years that Grigor had known Eryl he had never doubted his mentor's ability, but the fact that Eryl didn't seem to know which way to go was giving the young man cause for concern; that and the fact that the ancient seer seemed more and more disturbed by the visions concerning Emrys.

The one thing Grigor had discerned was that they were traveling steadily northward closer to the mountains. The nights were getting perceptibly cooler and he feared for Eryl's health in the damp weather. After nearly a week of wending their way through the dense forests, through murky fog and craggy ground, they finally found the small community they sought. Grigor had lived a very secluded life with Eryl, but even his untrained eye could tell that this entire community had recently moved to the place they were occupying. All of the tents and shelters had a very temporary feel to them and the majority of the members of the community were engaged in building more permanent shelters as if frantically preparing for the winter season.

Eryl walked directly into the settlement, ignoring the shocked stares of people who stopped in their work to gawk at the new arrivals. Neither Eryl nor Grigor had ever seen any of these people, a fact that was readily apparent. Eryl seemed to know exactly where to go as the seer marched right up to a group of gathered elders who stared at them as they approached. Once within a foot of the group, Eryl threw the hood of the weathered cloak down and looked directly at a tall and imposing man standing at the front of the group. Grigor had never mastered the art of unspoken communication, and was therefore completely lost when the man turned to the other elders to announce that a counsel session was to begin immediately. The man then turned to Grigor and spoke.

"I am Barach, the leader of this community, and I will ask you to stay with Aenya, our teacher." He turned and motioned a young man over to the group standing there. "Jaylen will take you to Aenya. We will send for you after the council convenes."

Grigor didn't like the idea of being separated from his mentor. "I must stay with Eryl. This trek has not been easy. Eryl needs me to be ... "

Barach cut the young man off. "Grigor, is it? Eryl will be fine. We have one of the finest healers in all the land as a member of our community and she will tend to any of your master's needs. The council session is for the elders of the community and no one else."

Grigor looked to Eryl in protest at being sent away but the seer stood stock still, seemingly observing the group of elders present and the interaction of this druid leader with the young apprentice. Grigor never liked being the subject of Eryl's observations, least of all now, but as he stared at his mentor, he saw steel in the ancient face that made him hold his tongue. Giving one last look at his master, Grigor hoisted up the packs a little higher on his shoulders and turned to follow Jaylen.

Grigor was led to one of the larger tents and introduced to a woman in her late thirties, to the best of his reckoning. She was just finishing up with a group of youngsters who dawdled in leaving their lesson to gawk at the new arrival. One of the children, who seemed to have a sullen demeanor, openly studied Grigor before turning to his teacher.

"More visitors? I hope this doesn't mean we have to move again!"

Aenya didn't look very pleased with her student and rebuked him sharply.

"Being rude to a visitor is not how you have been taught to behave, Joshua. Our guest is tired and needs to rest, not be insulted by a seven-year-old boy. You must go home now and wait for your father's return."

Joshua looked pained by his teacher's statement. "That will be forever because of the council meeting."

Aenya didn't say anything else, but the look she gave the boy would have withered the most headstrong person. Grigor himself felt a little abashed by that look and he hadn't said a word yet. Finally, Joshua turned toward Grigor and extended his hand.

"I apologize for being rude, sir. It's just that after the grownups tried to kill the prince of Camelot we all had to move and I didn't want to have to do that again."

The shock on Grigor's face at what the boy had just said went unnoticed as Aenya shouted, "That is enough, Joshua! Go home and wait. Your father will be told of your behavior today and he will discuss with you what appropriate actions should be taken."

The obvious threat made the boy's eyes open wide and Grigor saw the ghost of real fear. He had spoken out of turn and knew he would pay a price for that. The boy scurried off and Grigor turned to Aenya, the shock still clearly visible on his face.

"You people tried to kill Arthur Pendragon? It's no wonder Eryl has been so upset."

It was Aenya's turn to be shocked. "Eryl? You are Eryl's apprentice?"

Grigor nodded and shrugged the packs off his shoulder. "We have been traveling for weeks now. Eryl was awakened by a disturbing vision that concerned Emrys, but did not tell me that the prince was also a part of the vision. Eryl only said that a terrible mistake was made by this community and that it would ultimately lead to..."

Grigor stopped speaking shocked by what he had almost revealed. He was being as impetuous as young Joshua had been and blushed red with shame. He didn't have enough information about his master's visions to be speaking so casually about them to a stranger.

Aenya was as intrigued by Grigor's statement as he was by Joshua's. She held her tongue and helped Grigor to stow the gear he had carried before offering him a cup of hot tea. Once they were both seated again just outside her tent Grigor faced Aenya. His curiosity was too much to hold back. The events that had taken place were affecting his mentor's health and he needed to know what had transpired.

"Aenya, I will tell you what I know so that you can understand how important it is for me to know what happened here."

Grigor told Aenya everything he could about the visions and how they were affecting Eryl. As he spoke, a deep frown graced Aenya's face and the news that the actions of the council would lead to Emrys' death seemed to rock her to her foundation. The teacher knew that it wasn't her place to say anything but she sympathized with Grigor's position. He was clearly concerned for his master, and she was now seriously concerned for all of them, so against her better judgment she told Grigor about Arthur and Emrys' visit to their camp.

It was well past midnight when Eryl finally walked up to the tent that the teacher used for her shelter. Grigor had refused to sleep until he had seen Eryl and saw for himself that everything was all right with his aging mentor. The seer looked much the same as before the council went into private session. Grigor had expected Eryl to look exhausted, but if anything, the fire in the ancient eyes gave an image of strength and youth to the weathered old face.

"Are you going to tell me what happen in the council session?" Grigor asked as Eryl sat down across from him at the small fire burning in front of Aenya's tent.

"No," was the only reply he got.

"Then are we staying here?" Grigor pressed.

"No." Again, Eryl gave the one word answer.

Grigor didn't have to be a skilled seer to realize that Eryl was angry, angrier than he had ever seen his mentor. Knowing what had happened here didn't prepare Grigor for Eryl's seething fury. He did not envy the members of the council of this community.

"Get some sleep, Grigor. We leave for Camelot at first light."

Grigor knew better than to try to question Eryl further. He knew that Eryl would not sleep tonight even though the old seer needed the sleep desperately. It would take them easily two weeks to reach Camelot if not longer. He feared for his mentor's health with such a treacherous trip ahead of them. The forest of Essotier was not the safest place to travel through and he was not a skilled fighter. Plagued by reservations about the trek, yet resolved to see Eryl safely to Camelot, Grigor stood up and turned to enter the tent.

The gentle bumping of the travois moving over the main road had lulled Merlin into a deep sleep as his tattered body fought off the poison still plaguing his system, not to mention the soul-deadening fatigue induced by using such powerful and elemental magic. Odd dreams assaulted Merlin's semi-conscious mind. He felt himself wavering in an undefined mist that felt sinister with remembered pain like fire running through his very blood, but it was tempered with a voice filled with love, and he was filled with a desperate longing to follow that voice into the depths of the mist and shadow.

As the voice of the woman he loved faded away the fire and pain returned only he was no longer in the place of mist and shadow. He found himself in the forest surrounded by trees, tents, and people. A raging fire ahead of him in a clearing made him confused and frightened. Arthur stood tied to a stake atop a raging blaze surrounded by faces he didn't know. All other thoughts fled from his confused mind to be replaced with one single immutable intent. He must save Arthur. The flames were licking higher and higher. The only thing he could do was to douse the fire. In his mind's eye he saw a drenching downpour of rain drowning the flames. Fueled by panic and sheer desperation, Merlin felt an immeasurable energy surge through his body and before he could stop it, a palpable explosion of power erupted from his very core. A deafening rushing sound assulted his hearing blocking out everything else. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his head; reverberating like a hundred stacato drums until he was overwhelmed and enveloped in an inky blackness.

Merlin had the sensation of time passing, but he couldn't see anything or feel anything. He heard faint sounds somewhere off in the distance; the clang of metal on metal and the shouts of men. The sounds of battle grew louder bringing him out of the darkness surrounding his concious mind, until he cracked one eye open. What he saw didn't make sense at first. He was lying down but he wasn't flat on the ground. He turned his head toward the sounds of men fighting and saw two soldiers engaged with an armed man but he didn't recognise any of them.

The one thing the young warlock clearly understood was that he needed to not be here while this battle raged around him. He found himself strapped into some sort of stretcher that was hooked to a horse. Suddenly memories flooded back to him. Arthur! Merlin craned his head around looking for his prince and found him fighting two other armed soldiers off to the far right. He seemed to be holding his own for the moment so Merlin turned his attention back to his own situation. With a quickly whispered word the straps securing him to the travois fell away and he rolled out and fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

The man the two soldiers were fighting had turned and run in his direction only to be felled by one of the soldier's swords in his back. As this man fell he lost his grip on his own sword and it tumbled out of his hands and dropped blade-first to the ground pinning Merlin's left arm to the ground as it pierced his forearm right through the bandage. The searing pain that ripped through his arm robbed him of his voice as he soundlessly screamed.

The soldiers obviously didn't consider him a threat and turned their attention to Arthur and began advancing on his position. Arthur was a great swordsman and could hold his own in almost any fight but four to one was too much to ask of anyone. Merlin concentrated and his eyes glowed bright gold. The two soldiers converging on Arthur position flew through the air with incredible force slamming into nearby trees to fall unconcious to the ground. Merlin tried to see Arthur as he fought the two remaining soldiers but his vision was growing dim and he didn't have the strength to keep his head up any longer.

It took Arthur a minute to realize that all of the enemy combatants were dead or out of commission. He always felt an odd sense of euphoria immediately following an intense battle, but as his eyes fell on the travois, a nearly numbing panic washed over him.

"Merlin!"

The young man lay on the ground next to the travois with one of the bandits lying across his legs, but that wasn't what frightened Arthur - it was the sword still quivering slightly that ran through Merlin's injured arm. The bandage was saturated with fresh blood and Merlin lay unmoving.

Arthur dropped his sword and ran to his companion fearing the worst. As he dropped to his knees, he reached down, shoved the bandit away from Merlin, and then looked at the sword piercing his arm. Upon closer inspection, Arthur could see that it wasn't as bad as he had thought. Rather than going between the two bones in Merlin's forearm as the arrow had done the sword had only cut a glancing stab wound through the fleshy outer portion of the arm. He took hold of the sword's hilt and yanked it straight up and out of the ground, as well as Merlin's arm, which dropped back to the earth with a lifeless thud.

Arthur carefully rolled Merlin over onto his back looking the young man over for any more injuries that he may have sustained during the fight and upon seeing none, felt immensely relieved that he was breathing steadily. Arthur looked around at Cendred's men. Two were dead, two were unconscious, and more could be coming, so he lifted Merlin up and placed him back on the travois. He quickly strapped him in again and jumped on his horse leaving the scene of the attack as quickly as possible. He knew he was close to Camelot's border and he needed to get into his own territory as fast as he could.

The travois bumped and shuddered as he galloped over the uneven ground. Arthur knew that he had crossed the border a while back but now that he was moving quickly, he didn't want to stop. Merlin had been through so much physical trauma that he just wanted to get him back to Camelot so that Gaius could take over his care. As he continued down the road, the young prince looked up and saw a sight that made his heart soar. Riding directly toward him was a large patrol of knights clad in red and gold.

The party was lead by Sir Leon who recognized the prince at a distance. As they drew nearer and Arthur's injuries became visible, Leon motioned the rest of the party to surround the prince and his servant.

"Sire! Were you attacked?" Leon inquired as he drew up even with Arthur's horse.

"Yes, by bandits just over the border, but that isn't the problem. I was able to handle them easily enough. Cendred's soldiers turned up and attacked me even after I identified myself."

Shock at this news showed clearly on Leon's face. "We have been hearing of attacks along the border from the outlying villages. We knew there was a band of thieves attacking travelers, but this news of Cendred's men is very disturbing. Was it the soldiers that injured you and your servant? The king will declare war over this."

Arthur shook his head. He was sure that Leon was right. His father would be very upset by this attack. "Merlin was shot with a poisoned arrow on the other side of the forest of Essotier, a careless hunter made a mistake." Arthur looked at his arm and noted the blood on the sleeve. "This was a result of fighting Cendred's men. We need to hurry. Merlin needs to be seen by Gaius right away. I will report to the king as soon as I get him settled in the court physician's quarters."

As the prince turned his back to Leon the knight noted the bloody gash on the back of his right shoulder. "You need to be tended to as well, sire. I can bring the king to you."

Arthur kicked the flanks of his horse and moved past Leon. "Either way we need to move now. Merlin has been too long without medical attention."

Arthur moved off toward Camelot without looking back, but felt much better knowing he had his knights at his side. Leon ordered two of the party to accompany him back to the city but left the rest to stay and patrol the border. He didn't want any of Cendred's men crossing over into Camelot's territory and they had orders to kill any who did. As far as Leon was concerned, the attack on his prince was an overt act of war, even if it happened in Cendred's territory. It certainly voided the treaty between the two kingdoms. Feeling secure in leaving the safety of the border to Camelot's knights, he turned and followed Arthur back to Camelot. Camelot meant saftey and strength... at least for now.

TBC