5. Exile

Arthur Pendragon stirred in his sleep; then he woke up with a scream of terror and anger, sweat covering his body and all his muscles tensed. Once again he felt rough, merciless hands on his body while Llanfair's dark, strong-boned face looked down on him. He had been taken back to Blackrock's stately chambers which had formed part of his imprisonment for many hopeless months.

"Arthur? What is it? Arthur, don't you recognize me? Wake up."

Slowly Pendragon's vision cleared and his surroundings stopped spinning. Breathing rapidly he looked into a pair of large green eyes in a very handsome honey-skinned face under an unruly mane of lustrous jet-black hair.

As soon as Antek of Llanfair saw that his royal friend had snapped out of the nightmare's aftermath he smiled in his lopsided way which always reminded Arthur of a very special goofy grin that belonged to a pair of equally friendly and careless dark-blue eyes.

"Sire, are you all right?" Sir Leon, Arthur's commander of his small escort at Blanchfleur Manor entered the room unannounced, sword ready to slay every dragon that might be hiding under the Prince's seat.

Arthur raised his hands in mocked surrender and laughed. "I am fine, Sir Leon. I am sorry that our tomfoolery disturbed you."

With an angry frown the knight sheathed his blade. To him the screams had sounded pretty seriously. "If you want to retire, Your Highness, perhaps Count Llanfair wants to go to his own rooms now?" he asked gruffly.

"Count Llanfair intends nothing of the kind" Antek replied in the same unfriendly tone of voice. "But you can leave us now. This is my house and if I want to retire, I'll notify my own servants properly, thank you very much."

Leon ignored the young noble completely, his eyes never leaving Arthur's face. "Sire?"

"It's all right, Sir Leon, I promise, we won't be long. Please sent Merlin up to me, will you?" With secret relief Arthur saw his guard commander bow before he left the room, not without a last suspicious look at Llanfair's derisive smile

"I must say Your Royal Highness, if that's what you are like after two glasses of brandy you must have been be a handful for your gentle lady to deal with after one of King Uther's prolonged dinner parties!" Antek laughed the last remaining awkwardness away.

As always when together with Antek, the Prince felt his mood lighten under the irresistible urge to return the light-hearted smile. "It has been four glasses and it's completely your fault if she will have my head tomorrow. You forced me into this! Admit it; you want to present me to her with a terrible hangover, to put a wrong complexion on me!"

"Touché" Antek replied. "Your Highness is very clear sighted. At least sometimes."

The Prince gave the young Count a rueful smile. "You should have raised me once you saw that I had dozed off. I feel like a tottering old geezer, falling asleep like that. What have you done all this time?"

"Spied on your most private affairs, of course" Antek answered. "Given signals to the robbers and rascals I keep hidden in the brushwood that you Camelotians are ready to be slaughtered in your sleep. Oh, yes, and I have worked out a strategy to seduce your wife. It's all in a day's work. I am a Llanfair, you know. We're evil!"

Looking at Arthur's dumbfounded face, Antek laughed out loud. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but it's only what your friends are thinking of me. Leon, Merlin, even old Gaius, each and every one of them, down to the most humble soldier or servant – they all think that I have taken you in for one reason only - to finish what my father has started. They'll never forgive me for luring you into the sinister trap of Blanchefleur Manor."

The Prince frowned at that and swung his legs from the divan he had been resting on. "If you have such insights in the thoughts of my men; maybe you could tell me where else we should have gone when my father went nuts."

"I know that Merlin would have preferred his Druid friends, for a start. And Leon is of the same mind, because of his Druid wife Mirella. And even I must say it would have been a logical choice. They aren't forced to ask your father's leave for anything and they would have welcomed you."

"I'm not so sure about that" Arthur said musingly. "Arenboarth doesn't welcome the idea of a warrior staying with his pacifistic, gods-fearing people. Whether it would be Leon or me – the Lord Druid doesn't differentiate between knights and Princes. Besides…" Arthur poured himself another brandy "Merlin is persona non grata for Arenboarth and that will never change."

Antek shrugged dismissively. "You could have left him behind in Camelot. Or sent him back to his village. Whatever."

It wasn't the first time that Arthur felt awkward and uncomfortable with the way Antek spoke of the young warlock. As if he was speaking of an animal. And not a pet animal, at that. "It was impossible to leave him behind" he said with more verve than he had originally intended. "First of all, neither I nor Guinivere wanted to leave without him and second, if Merlin had stayed behind my father would have had the guts cut out of him for sheer spite."

"Come, come, Arthur, that's a gross exaggeration." Antek virtually pouted now. "King Uther would have done nothing of the kind. Your father values a good advisor. When I met him over the question of the money and the territories Camelot had ransomed for your release, your sorcerer friend was standing behind him, blowing one vicious idea after another into his ear. It cost me dearly, your friend's talking, it really did."

This hit a nerve in the Pendragon Prince. "Antek, if this about money, I know I burdened you with many an additional mouth to feed when I came here, but you said…."

Antek raised his hands in a soothing gesture. "Let it rest, Arthur. I tend to forget what I owe you. It must have been difficult for King Uther to agree with your plans. Tto install me, of all people, as governor of the border regions after King Cendred had ruined me over his 'compensations' for the loss of Blackrock and the new tensions between him and your father."

"Nonetheless" the Prince replied "I know the governorship is no real substitute for the Llanfair estate, not even for Blackrock alone. The governor of the border territories neither has the revenue nor the independence you would have had as Count of Llanfair and since me and my people have been burdening your purse for almost seven months now…."

"Forget about it, will you? If you insist on making this an arithmetical problem, even a small income is better than nothing. My beloved King, Cendred the Greedy, had left me broke, as you may remember. He just waited until I had given back the ransom to your father and my troops had pulled out of the border regions, then he held me responsible for the loss to his coffers, just because in theory all that's mine belonged to him as my liege."

Arthur shrugged. "If it hadn't been for you, I'd never survived your father's kind administrations to me. So let's just say were even, shall we?" The Prince gulped down the rest of his brandy. "I think I'll turn in now, or else my wife will have my head for neglecting her so. Good night, and thanks for the night cap."

"Good night, my Prince." Antek made a little show of bowing and scraping to Arthur. "Sweet dreams!"

Pendragon laughed and left the room, the broad smile still on his face when his eyes fell on Merlin. "What are you standing here in the dark?" Didn't Leon tell you that I wanted you to come here?"

"Actually he did" the warlock replied stubbornly. "But I had no wish to see your so called friend."

With an impatient moan Arthur slapped his sorcerer friend between the shoulder blades and pushed him forwards. The Prince kept his voice low but his anger was hard to miss nonetheless. "We are his guests, is that so difficult to comprehend, for the Gods' sake? I owe him a debt of gratitude. And besides, he doesn't like you either."

"You are nobody's guest as long as we are on Camelot territory!" Merlin had no intention of keeping his words unheard. "This house belongs to you as much as any other estate your father handed out as a fiefdom and that's a fact. If you ask me, the dumb ass owes you every penny he has got. And more."

Arthur rubbed his eyes in exasperation. "Technically speaking, you are absolutely right. But there's more to the relationship between a liege and his liegemen than these legal formalities. Fact is that Antek is in a very difficult position between me and my father, so could you and the others at least try to show our host some courtesy from time to time?"

"What about his courtesy to us?" Merlin was in no mood to give up that easily. "You heard what he said about me; as did I when I arrived in front of the door. The same applies to Leon, Mirella, Gaius and the others. We could all go and rot for all he cares."

"Damn it Merlin, you destroyed his home. You crushed Blackrock to dust when you killed his father. Have you thought of that?"

"In your service Your Royal Highness! Have you thought of that?" Merlin's aggravated voice rang from the walls.

"Merlin, please keep your voice down. And for the last time, I have no intention of taking sides here. You are both my friends, you are both grown up men and you will do your best to go along with Antek of Llanfair, Now. Is. That. Clear?

"Yes, My Lord." There was a certain point with Arthur beyond which opposing him wasn't the wisest thing to do. Master sorcerer and continuous saviour or no, Merlin knew that point quite well by now.

"Don't you 'My Lord' me, my boy" the Prince gnarled angrily. "One more word against our host and you are in for a long vacation in Ealdor. A very long vacation, understood?"

Merlin grumbled some inaudible words to himself.

"I said, is that understood?" Arthur insisted.

"And I say you're still the same old prat" Merlin refused the craved submission despite his better judgement. "How could you tell him that you did not know where else to go? It almost sounded as if you were throwing yourself at his mercy! You are the Crown Prince, for heaven's sake!"

By now they had reached the door to Arthur's room. The Prince just opened his mouth for another heated reply when Guinivere suddenly appeared in the door frame. "Are you going to argue the whole night?" she asked sleepily. "You two can be heard throughout the house I shouldn't wonder."

Arthur cast an angry look at his friend, "look what you've done" written all over his face.

At once Merlin's face became a display of remorse. Guiltily he looked at her unmistakably protruding belly under the nightgown. Gaius had made it more than clear that this pregnancy was not to be taken lightly. Everybody knew that she would have to rough it when her time came, everybody except Arthur, of course. Guinivere sometimes complained of her husband's over-protectiveness as it was.

"I'm sorry, Gwen" the warlock said. "You're right, it's late. I think I turn in now, too. Good night." One thing was as sure as rain: Neither warlock nor Crown Princess would ever agree to letting go of "Gwen" for the preposterous "My Lady" or "Your Grace". Arthur, who stubbornly insisted on the use of her title for his wife wherever they came, hadn't even tried to insist on it when it came to Merlin addressing her. As naturally as the use of the title had come to Gaius, Leon, the soldiers, even to Mirella - it would always be "Merlin" and "Gwen" between these two, no matter what.

Without a further word or look at his royal friend Merlin made his exit and Arthur felt scolded and left behind despite himself. Sighing angrily he led his wife back into their bedchamber. "Would you believe it?" he said while undressing. "They are like young dogs, these two, always at each other's throat. If I were a woman I'd say they're both in the grip of the green eyed monster."

Guinivere had no reason to ask whom he was talking about. "It doesn't need a woman for a man to become jealous of another" she said mockingly. "Sometimes real friendship is enough. Friendship or need, that is."

"Need?"

"Arthur, Merlin is your friend; there is no doubt about that. Count Antek has chosen the needs of his estate, his people and himself over you when you were his father's prisoner and he would most certainly do so again, if the necessity arose. But presently he needs you and your favour. Back then he could not afford to get on his father's wrong side, not even to save you from torture and now he can't afford to get on your wrong side. That means you aren't equals and inequality is no basis for friendship."

"Have you been talking to Gaius again? I thought the two of you would have more than enough talking to do about my son."

As always the casual certainty of getting "his son" rattled her. "Personally I would prefer to give birth to our daughter" she said. "And I did not know that you consider me an imbecile. I do not need to talk to Gaius to see some obvious facts. Antek rivals with your best friend because he considers Merlin a personal enemy as well as a competitor for your affection. And believe me; our host intends to gain something out of your sense of obligation to him. As for Merlin, he can't accept that you should mistake rank opportunism for real affection, the kind he feels for you. He feels degraded by your fondness for Antek."

From her choice of words Arthur could see that she had been on the lexicon again, as was her habit in order to 'improve' herself. She still felt nervous around nobility and the lexicon was one of her ways of coping with her apprehension of his peers. Naturally, after almost eight months of marriage he was a much too experienced husband to tease her with that right now.

"I'd say that 'rank opportunism' is somewhat of an exaggeration" he said instead, most kindly. "Besides, what would you suggest? Going back to Camelot?"

"Yes" she simply stated. "That's exactly what I would suggest. At least it would be better than giving young Antek the impression that you depend on him."

Arthur stood stunned. "You're kidding me."

"No, I'm not. I'm perfectly serious."

"Then you are indeed an imbecile" he burst out. "We can't go back. My father…"

"Your father isn't half the villain you want to see in him" she said heatedly. "At least not anymore. Do you really think we could have stayed here for months, unmolested and in some luxury as I may add, without Uther's consent and support? For Leon, Mirella and most of all Merlin it was natural to choose you over the King but did you seriously assume that Gaius would have stayed if Uther had called him back?"

"What do you mean, my father's 'support'?" Arthur said, his face pale with suppressed rage.

"I've seen it by chance" Gwen replied. "When I posted my first letter to your father, I saw the messenger handing a parcel of documents to Antek's secretary. It sported the royal seal of Camelot but it wasn't addressed to you. I went with the secretary into his office, asked him for some special parchment and while he searched for it, I flipped through the letters in the folder he had laid the new parcel on. Bills, Arthur, our bills, paid by your father."

The thoughts ran havoc in her husband's mind and as he found no way to sort them out fast enough he went into a mental defensive stand. For the warrior he was this meant taking the offensive. And keeping it.

"You are corresponding with my father behind my back?"

"Yes" she said defiantly. "I wrote to him about my pregnancy. A man should know that his first grandchild is under way. He's happy, by the way. Very happy."

"Is he indeed. Now that's a change in His Majesty's tune. I'd never have thought he'd be happy about a child from the woman he hardly thought suitable to be my concubine."

"Arthur!"

"Your Ladyship will forgive me, but I am not very tired anymore. Good night." With that he grabbed his things and left; banging the door shut hard enough to make the walls tremble, leaving her behind gobsmacked.

Beside himself with anger and hurt at a double (or triple? Who had known of this secret correspondence and money transfers?) Arthur made it to the stables and pulled out a horse. Ten minutes later he galloped through the Blanchefleur gates at top speed. Nothing better than a hard ride through the meadows to clear one's head.

He was just out of sight of Blanchefleur's guards when reality caught up with him. This wasn't Camelot castle; this was a citadel in the border countries which had been a battlefield for years. With five glasses of brandy in his stomach and his head full of anger and tumbling thoughts he saw the highwaymen only when they were at him and the unfamiliar horse under his saddle panicked.

The mare reared up under him, than she sprang forward, buckling and kicking with her hind legs. The combination of movements dismounted her rider and Arthur found himself rolling over the ground, directly to one of his attackers' feet. Winded and shaken, Arthur needed a moment to get to his sword. For once, he wasn't fast enough. The man pressed his own blade against his victim's throat and kicked the Prince's weapon from his hand.

"Get up" he said. "Nice and slowly."

While Arthur rose, silently cursing himself, the sword point never left his throat. Finally the two others had calmed down the horse and made it back to their buddy and his prey.

"Now let's see what we have here" the leader said. "Search him."

Arthur flinched when the second man touched him. "Hold it" the leader said, raising his blade a bit more. What had been meant as an additional threat gave the Prince a perfect opportunity to make good on his former idiocy. Quickly he elbowed the second man in the stomach, pulling back from the first one's blade at the same time. As he had expected, the leader continued his former movement; rising his blade even higher for an assault on the throat from above instead of lowering it for an attack on the body.

Pendragon dived under the man's arm while he grabbed his wrist and twisted violently. With a yelp the bandit let go of his weapon, allowing Arthur to use his forward momentum to get behind the man's back, twisting the bandit's arm even further in the process.

When the second man's blade, finally drawn after it had been sheathed in order to hold on to the fighting horse, aimed for Arthur's chest the Prince turned somewhat and the blade cut through the leader's heart, got stuck between the bones of the man's chest and was wrenched from the second bandit's hand.

Pendragon pushed the dying man to the side and went for the leader's sword on the ground. He beat the second man to it by the split of a second. While Arthur was still rising, the blade found its way into the attacker's throat.

Panting Arthur withdrew the weapon from the bandit's neck and turned towards the third man, silently wondering why on earth he hadn't intervened at all so far.

His gaze fell on a gawping boy, frozen stiff in fear and awe, holding on to the horse's bridle as if for dear life. His eyes wide and uncomprehending and his legs trembling visibly he was as threatening as a new born beagle puppy.

"Oh dear" the Prince said. "Whatever am I to do with you?"