Arthur's escape had not gone exactly to plan. Well, none of it had had an outcome that he even remotely desired. He had barely even gotten out of the camp before the bandits were right behind him, gaining ground quickly. It would appear that running with an arrow wound in your shoulder was not the easiest way to escape a heavily defended bandit camp.
So now, he was back at the camp, tied to the same damn post as before, only this time he was alone. He neither had seen nor heard anything about his manservant, and all he could do was pray that the idiot had found some way of getting back to Camelot. Then he could tell the king, and soldiers would be here by nightfall, ready to rescue their prince and make the dogs that took him pay.
His prayers went unanswered. About an hour after he had been dragged, kicking and screaming, back to the post, there was a disturbance to his right, and suddenly several more bandits appeared out of the trees, grinning stupidly. For a second, the prince couldn't breathe, could barely see. In one of the bandit's arms, lay a still, pale-faced manservant.
"Ragley! What do you want us to do with this one?" The bandits called over to their leader.
'Ragley. I'll remember that name,' Arthur thought bitterly. His complete attention was now focused on the dark haired boy, who looked for all the world dead. Desperately, the blonde haired prince searched for any sign of life, any slight movement that could release the tight band that had settled around his chest.
"What's wrong with him?" The leader called back, no concern in his voice. As long as the prince lived, then he would get the rewards he craved. The boy was just a bonus.
"Dunno," the bandit supplied unhelpfully. "We hit him with an arrow-" Arthur's anger flared, "-then he just sort of collapsed."
"Is he alive?" Ragley moved towards the group of men, and the prince had to withhold a hiss at the thought of the worm being any closer to Merlin.
"Yeah, I think so." All of a sudden, Arthur's chest loosened as relief flooded through his veins, warm and sharp.
"Tie him with the prince. When he wakes, he'll get his reward for trying to run." As he spoke, he turned towards Arthur and shot him a grin. The blonde glared back, fury tearing through him. "I told you, Prince Arthur, that should you do anything displeasing that the boy would pay the price, did I not?"
"He has done nothing to you! Leave him be. It is me you want, and now you have me. Just let him go!" Arthur was unused to panicking. Even in the heat of battle he was always able to keep a clear head, but faced with his idiotic, loyal servant being punished by these criminals, he found that he was completely out of his depth.
"Have you not learnt by now that you hold no authority here? I give the orders, and unless you want your friend to suffer further, then you will remember that. I am a man of my word, Pendragon, and I told you that disobeying me would have consequences." With that, he turned and strode into what Arthur guessed to be his tent. It was the largest by far, and of better make than the others.
Behind him, the prince vaguely felt Merlin being tied to the post, but it was hard to focus. The pain, worry, anger and exhaustion were warring for dominance in his head, and thinking clearly was far too difficult. As soon as the bandits had back off though, he turned his head, trying to see his fellow captive.
"Merlin!" He hissed, not loud enough for anyone else to hear. With his uninjured arm, he nudged the boy gently. In response, there was a slight groan and shifting, though any movement was rapidly cut off with a gasp of pain.
Merlin felt like he was on fire. Every part of him burned with pain, blazing beneath his skin. There was agony ripping through his chest from his ribs, and every time he tried to shift his leg, the pain would leave him breathless. Even though his eyes were closed, he knew that if he were to open them then his vision would be too hazy to see anything. Somewhere, someone was calling his name.
"Merlin, wake up this minute!"
'Arthur. It's Arthur.' He was aware that there was something unpleasant about this observation, but his thoughts were too scattered to make out what it was.
"Wha... What happened?" His voice was quiet, it wouldn't carry to the bandits.
"You let yourself get recaptured, you idiot," Arthur informed him, still trying to twist around to examine him for injuries. If he had been shot with an arrow, then he could be in serious trouble. "Are you hurt?"
"My ribs. My leg." The pain left him panting for breath, and full sentences were beyond him.
"Your leg?" That hadn't been injured before. "An arrow wound?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dark haired boy bobbing his head in an affirmative. The prince hissed under his breath.
"Aren't you-" a gasp for air, "going to say- I told you so?" Merlin had to fight to get the words out.
"What?" Arthur shot back, completely nonplussed.
"It didn't work," The warlock said simply. The words were accompanied with a very slight shrug. Arthur was unsure whether it was good or bad for his servant to be quite so calm.
"In this case, I'm not even sure I want to." The prince's eyes travelled back to the fire, and a sudden longing for its warmth gripped him. It wasn't unusually cold, but the night was drawing closer, and the day's heat was fading.
"Are you alright?" Merlin's concern was unconcealed in his voice. Arthur scoffed lightly.
"You're the one with the broken ribs," he retorted.
"Your shoulder's injured," Merlin reminded his master, speaking as if to a toddler who didn't understand. Arthur, for his part, didn't need reminding. The pain was doing that, all on its own.
"I've had worse." This much was true. "I'll be fine." This was slightly more doubtful, but there was no reason to point that at to Merlin, who would only start worrying himself into a state, Arthur thought fondly.
For several moments, neither of them said anything. The only sound that came from the pair was Merlin's harsh breath around his broken ribs, and Arthur's occasional gasp of pain as the muscles in his shoulder shifted.
"Well. You are quite the pair, aren't you?" Ragley's voice was filled with sardonic admiration. "I didn't believe that you would be stupid enough to try and escape. The time has come for you to pay for that mistake." Merlin gulped quietly, his muscles bunching in fear. His natural instinct to run, to hide, was going into overdrive, making his bonds feel tighter than ever. With a wave of his hand, Ragley signalled for two of the bandits to untie Merlin.
They yanked him to his feet, forcing an uncomfortable amount of weight to fall on his injured leg. His knees buckled, and a cry of pain tumbled into the still air.
"Merlin!" Arthur's voice was slightly higher with panic and worry. "Ragley, let him go! He has done nothing!"
"Ah, but Prince Arthur, you still do not understand." A nod to one of his men, and Merlin was doubling over with a fist in his stomach. He gasped as the air rushed out of him, and the movement pulled painfully at his ribs.
"No!" Arthur's shout was full of stress, as he pulled at the bindings to try and twist round to see his friend.
"I give the orders here! And you may be right, that this boy has done me no harm. But you and your kin have, and for that they must pay. I am no fool as to expect you have many weaknesses, but we have found one. And it just so happens that it is the pain of an innocent," he smiled wickedly. Merlin was rapidly beginning to discover just how low this man had sunk. Ragley turned back to the men holding the warlock.
"Tie him up," he ordered. They complied immediately, pulling him around to the other side of the post, in front of Arthur. His leg was refusing to do anything at all, so all the warlock could do was be dragged along. Once there, a rope was thrown around an overhanging branch and secured on one side. The other end was bound around Merlin's wrists and hoisted upwards until the warlock had to balance on his toes. Panic was becoming loud in his mind; he had seen men tied like this before. This was a flogging.
The men that had held him backed away, spreading out. On a few faces, Merlin was distantly surprised to see small traces of pity. Beyond the all consuming fear it was hard to concentrate.
"Ragley, please! Don't do this!" Arthur's pleas were useless, but he couldn't seem to stop. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't.
"I warned you, my Prince," He hissed. The sudden silence that followed was shattered with the crack of a whip.