12. Fatal decisions

Arenboarth saw the Prince's shoulders tense at the sound of the key turning in the lock.

"Just to make sure that nobody will disturb us." Pointedly the Druid left the key in the door. However the frightened young man he wanted to calm was no longer there. Uther hadn't brought up his only son and heir to let go of his composure easily. Or for very long.

"It's rather a precaution against me disturbing your plans, wouldn't you agree?" Arthur shot back. "Friend or foe, Arenboarth. What would it be if I tried to force my way out of here right now?"

The Druid saw the usual rigid façade come up again in the handsome features and take away all traces of vulnerability. He sympathized deeply with the effort behind it while he raised his hands apologetically.

"I never was your enemy, My Prince. I am not your enemy now and I never will be. But I fear the table has been turned since last year. I must admit, I much preferred being Your Highnesses' selfless saviour over being the humble supplicant for your most gracious understanding of my predicament."

"I know the feeling" Arthur replied, a small grin forming on his lips despite his anger. "To be honest, I had to tell myself many times that you had gained your people's freedom for a reward, otherwise my debt of gratitude to you would have haunted my dreams."

Silently heaving a huge sigh of relief Arenboarth settled into the nearest chair. "From the look on your face a moment ago I dare say you had other scares that haunted your sleep" he said cautiously, softly moaning for the pain in his limps. "That's what's giving me the courage to ask for your support, although you've caught me red-handed."

A shadow of the memories he had been reliving wiped the smile off the young Pendragon's face and he shuddered visibly. "Let's not beat around the bush, My Lord Druid" he said decisively, already ashamed of his momentary weakness. "You're not going to knock me out like you did Gaius. You'd be too hard put to find an explanation. Which means, you and I are going for a deal with the devil and before we start haggling, we have to get some things straight. I absolutely detest what you did to Gaius, I detest your plans to use Merlin's fondness for you or his loyalty to me to press him into getting himself killed or worse. I will not permit it, is that clear?"

The Lord Druid was very surprised when he felt his anger rise. He had been sure he had made his peace with life and found tranquillity. But to be spoken to like that…..

The Prince saw that the other man wanted to protest but he couldn't have cared less. "We are going to talk about what you want and what I, and I alone, am going to do. As you so aptly put it: I will not leave this quest to anybody else, especially not to Merlin."

"Arthur, this is ridiculous" a very rattled Arenboarth tried to regain control of things before it was too late. "I never thought you could go for the Rashnijaan alone. Tricking you into taking the lead of Emry's journey was my very last resort, nothing else."

"My terms stand. Merlin will not come near this thing or I'll find a way to make you regret that he did."

"Your father would have my head and that of each and everyone in my tribe for this and not even I would blame him. It's you who shouldn't come near the accursed book, you having..."

...As much magic as a mule in the barn, I heard you and Gaius very well. But you also said that I felt the Rashnijaan's powers first hand. I may not know much about magic but I do know that whatever came from that book to bind me to Anwar of Llanfair had nothing, absolutely nothing, in common with what fills Merlin's soul. The book's spell is not from this world, Arenboarth. It's utterly unnatural, the kind of perverted power that corrupts a soul forever, the kind of magic my father always used to confuse with the real thing."

Instinctively the Lord Druid recoiled a bit from the passionate outbreak. "With all due respect, Sire, I do not think you can …..."

"Oh yes I can" Arthur continued to drown out the Druid's objections. "I was completely at Anwar's mercy, neither my body nor my mind was mine to control, nothing I felt or thought was safe from him. But while he enslaved me he unwittingly showed me a lot about himself. He wasn't the master of the Rashnijaan, the book had subjugated him, Arenboarth, of that I'm sure."

With the Prince's last words the Master Sorcerer's face had taken on a superior attitude that was unusually supercilious even for him. He smiled in a most patronizing way when Arthur broke off. "Come, come Your Highness, you're poaching in my field of expertise now. It is common knowledge that non-magic people can borrow powers from a demonic energy in another dimension in the layers of existence and the Book of Demons is merely a gateway..."

"Oh, spare me the half-baked lecture, I am not Marwon, I'm not cringing in adoration at your every word. You have once opened the Rashnijaan, to harness it for your ambition and you have closed it only just in time before it became your master. You above everyone else should know what its artificial magic would do to a real warlock and his inborn magic, were he exposed to it. Merlin must ever come near this thing."

"Emrys has survived the dark spell he used to build the bridge between life and death that saved Antek. And he has lived through Anwar's final attack against you. I would have thought that to be impossible and yet he came out of it, unscathed."

"No he did not."

Arenboarth frowned. "What do you mean by that? My powers aren't that dilapidated yet. I would have felt it if his magic had been tainted..."

"I am not talking about his precious gifts, I am speaking about what and how he feels, just in case there is somebody else in this world who gives a damn about that. Let's just say I am not the only one of Gaius' patients who's frequently suffering from nightmares." Arthur sounded definitely snappy and it gave more away than he had wanted to reveal.

"Speaking about Emry's feelings it was my intention to ask Your Highness about the great plan behind you continuously putting his nose out of joint" Arenboarth replied drily. "First you run after Antek, of all people, then you choose to ignore our young warlock as if he was a tree in the woods."

As a result Arthur sighed and rubbed his eyes. "All right, I had that one coming. But let's not stray from our subject, yes? We both know that sending a magician after the book can be a risky business. His gift could wake the Rashnijaan prematurely. As I do not have magic, the book cannot use it against me."

"If you say so, My Prince." Arenboarth didn't know if just indulging him would be the best way to get through to Arthur's common sense but he was perfectly willing to give it a try.

However, the old Druid was rattled out of his comfortable self-assuredness by the Prince's next words. "You did not give Gaius the real reason why you cannot go after the Rashnijaan yourself!"

Arenboarth flinched violently and Arthur felt some satisfaction that his surprise shot should have hit home so nicely. He had never believed in the 'dying part' from the start.

"Go on master mind" the Druid said coldly. "If it isn't my illness that's keeping me here what is it?"

"You are a Master Sorcerer, with all the training and the centuries old experience the Blessed Isle and the great orders of magicians could give you, and yet not even you dared to open the Rashnijaan a second time. But you did not destroy it either, did you. One glimpse, one minute of weakness, Arenboarth, and it has tied your hands forever. Is that not so, My Lord Druid of the Blessed Isle?"

"I had no idea that Gaius has told you that much" Arenboarth replied very quietly, after a long moment of silence. "I wouldn't have thought that of him."

"He told me nothing" Arthur said tiredly, now that most of his rash anger was spent. "Fact is, I knew your face before I first set eyes on you. Your shadow still is in the Rashnijaan, the damn thing remembers you. Anwar made me see you sitting bend over its pages, with hunger in your eyes but fear in your face. He laughed at your weakness when he should have cried about his own."

Arenboarth swallowed hard. Suppressing a gasp of pain he furtively pulled the collar of his robe away from his throat. Panic filled his mind for a moment. Time was running out so quickly now. How to tell this stubborn young man that he was getting it all wrong and right at the same time?

"It's...it's not easy for me to accept that things like these are known to someone who isn't even a magician, let alone an adept of the Isle" the Druid said, playing for time. If only the pain would subside, allow him to think straight.

"That's no excuse for trying to lead me up the garden path with your fancy talk about dimensions or layers of existence. I am not a fool!"

"Yes, you are if you think you could take on the Rashnijaan without a skilled magician's help. For your father's sake, your wife's and child's sake, Arthur, I implore you to see reason in this!" The Druid drew a deep breath. Pride had been the only one of his shortcomings he had never conquered but this would cost him the last shreds of it. "I can't hinder you to go on this quest head over heels. But please, My Prince, I beg of you. After all what has happened, let me not die in the knowledge that it has all been for nothing. Allow me to go to Avalon knowing that my people are safe and that the foretold golden age is coming for Camelot, in spite of my mistakes."

"Then maybe its your guilty conscience that's blinding you" Arthur said unruffled. "Or else you'd see that I am the perfect choice. I surely can not be seduced by the Rashnijaan's promise of riches and power, I know the truth too well. Besides, the book depends on a living human soul and body to yield its powers, a man fool enough to trying harness it to his purpose while it's really the book that harnesses him. As the men who are behind the attempted abductions obviously haven't found the Rashnijaan yet, we can be pretty sure that the book is sleeping. It will still be sleeping when I bring it back to you for its final destruction."

"If things are so easy, why not let Emrys come with you? He's come in handy on a journey before, hasn't he?"

"I do not want him there and that's final! He's done enough already."

"Speaking of my guilty conscience!" Arenboarth thought wearily. "Oh, Arthur! Like father, like son. What good does you risking your life do to anyone? A simple apology is what Emrys needs! Can't you just admit that he was right and you were wrong in judging Antek's reliability?"

"So what exactly is the plan, Your Highness?" No use arguing with a solid Pendragon-style wall of wishful thinking and deliberate self-delusion. "After all we don't even know where we could start looking for the Rashnijaan. Young Count of Llanfair was a dead end."

"I do have a pretty good idea where to look for the bloody thing. Antek may not like it, but he will come with me. I count on you to find an excuse to keep Merlin here until we return."

"And what do you think your father will have to say to you vanishing once again into the mists, and with Antek of Llanfair at your side?"

"His Majesty will think that I have completely lost my mind, most probably he will gather that I am going to head a full scale rebellion against his rule. However, this can't be helped. Serves him right anyway. At least it will make him take Guinivere and our son back to Camelot as fast as they all can ride. There will be plenty of time to put things right as soon as I am back."

Inwardly Arenboarth moaned desperately. For all his resolve to keep up the pretence that he agreed with Arthur - this was too much for him. "Don't you think that there may be a point from where you cannot find a way back to your father? You are going to overtax an angel's indulgence with this, let alone the rudimentary thing a Pendragon has for patience."

"King Uther waiting for a rebellion means Camelot will be at full alert for months to come. After what has happened so far that is a very comforting thought for me, especially as that rebellion will not take place."

Feeling the pain once more clutching his heart and body, Arenboarth raised his hands in surrender. The time for arguing was over. "All right, it shall be as you wish. I will see to it that your family and your men reach the safety of Camelot as soon as possible. This includes your friend Leon and his wife."

Fleetingly Arthur wondered why Arenboarth not even now could bring himself to call Mirella 'my daughter'. When it came to fatherly stubbornness the former High Priest of the Blessed Isle could have been Uther's brother.

"And I will find a way to keep Emrys here until you come back and it's time to call in the Great Dragon" Arenboarth continued. "Or will Your Highness do that bit, too?"

Arthur decided to let that go unchallenged. "So we are clear on that now" he stated. "Antek and I will leave tonight. That should give us plenty of a head start. Nobody should notice my absence before tomorrow morning."

With his final words Arthur had gone to the door and unlocked it. Before he went out he turned back a last time. "Please, Arenboarth. I rely on you."

"Yes, you do. I know you do!" the Lord Druid said calmly. "Would you please go now, son" he thought. "I am an old, sick man and saving you from yourself will be a taxing business."

Arthur nodded and left. For the first time in many a month the old spring was in his step. To go for the Rashnijaan himself had been a very spontaneous decision, maybe the most spontaneous decision in his life, made in the two or three minutes between Arenboarth finding him behind and then locking the library door.

But Arthur knew, just knew without a single doubt, that it would bring his life back on the right path. The thoughts that had tormented him in Blanchefleur had never left him. After the Book of Demons' destruction people would no longer see the Crown Prince of Camelot as the helpless prisoner he had been. Merlin would no longer see a fragile weakling who needed protection when he looked at his Prince.

Back in Blanchefleur Arthur had vowed to himself that the time of helplessness and weakness would end. He would not allow old Anwar of Llanfair to destroy his former prisoner's life. As Arthur Pendragon had been made a slave by the Rashnijaan it would be for Arthur Pendragon, and him alone, to have the damned thing destroyed; it was that simple.

No more feeling like an invalid. No more being treated like a child by people who once had been used to looking up to him. And most of all, the Rashnijaan would never reveal what old Llanfair had done to his prisoner, especially not to Merlin.

Anwar had been able to let the young warlock see what was happening to his royal friend or hide it at will. Eight days had passed between the Di'inshara-ritual and the fateful 'hunting-trip' that had instigated the Pendragons' escape from Blackrock. For these eight days the old Count had kept Arthur's fate hidden from the wizard. As soon as the Rashnijaan was gone, the memories from these eight days would be for Arthur Pendragon to share or conceal as he saw fit. And that was exactly as he wanted it to be.

At the Prince's arrival in his own quarters he was rewarded with Guinivere's happy smile. "Arthur, you're back."

"It would appear so!"

"You've sure taken your time. How did it go with Merlin?"

"Oh, very well. Even he can see reason from time to time."

Guinivere laid her arms around her husband's neck and kissed him passionately. "I told you, all it needed was a little complaisance from your side and he would jump at the opportunity to make amends. He could never refuse you anything."

"Yes, you were right. Aren't you always" Arthur replied while he pulled her even closer. Saying good bye without actually saying it was a lot harder than he had thought. "However, sweetheart, there is something I have to do to get things right. I must talk to Merco. And to Antek."

Abruptly she left his embrace. "Why on earth should you do that? All Llanfairs can go and rot for all I care. If you ask me..."

"Which I don't" her husband tried to throw in.

"If you ask me" she ignored him "you better use the momentum to make it up with your father, while you are at it."

"I will" he quickly said. "I promise. Anyway, you shouldn't wait for me. I will come back only later tonight. Please promise me that you will not wait for me. You need as much sleep as you can get. How is the new wet nurse by the way?"

The distraction worked a treat. "Oh, she is fine. Little Thomas is doing very well. But, Arthur..."

"I will just go and say good night to our son" her husband said quickly. "Before he drops off." He pecked a final kiss on her lips and went to the other room where the cradle stood. Silently he looked down at his little son who was very comfortably gurgling to himself. The young Druid woman who had agreed to nourish him whilst they were staying in the village smiled softly. "He has a monstrous appetite. Between him and my own son I will never have to complain of having too much milk."

"I haven't yet thanked you for your gracious offer..." Arthur began but she dismissed his thanks with a small wave of her hand. "When King Uther first came here last year we all had reason to think that you would never live to have a son. In fact we had reason to believe that, for all our attempts to help you, your father's grieve over your death would eventually find consolation in ending the Druids' existence once and for all. Now our two peoples are at peace and both our sons have a chance to live a happy life. That's all the reward I need."

Somewhat embarrassed, Arthur only nodded while he stroked his son's soft cheek with a finger. "Good bye, little Thomas" he whispered gently. "I will make you proud. You will never be ashamed of being my son. I promise."

He was already half through the other door when Guinivere shot into the impromptu nursery. "Arthur, wait, I ….."

"Love you! And don't forget, I will be back very late" the Prince called back and made haste to get out.

Angrily Guinivere frowned. That was no proper way to leave her. Really, Arthur could be too supercilious to bear sometimes. She looked at the young Druid and shrugged. "Men!" she said with heartfelt emphasis. "They are all the same, aren't they!"

Still pondering the Prince's peculiar words to his son the Druid returned her gaze steadily. "If I were you My Lady, I would follow my husband and make sure he isn't up to anything foolish" she thought. "I know that look from my own would-be hero."

But she didn't say it. Last year Guinivere had been just another young woman fearing – and fighting – for the man she loved. To this young woman a Druid had been able to talk freely. Now the young woman had become a Pendragon Princess. The peace was still a very new thing. Fragile. Best left alone. Her father-in-law had made that very clear to everyone.

"Yes, My Lady" the young Druid said, softly rocking the cradle.

Guinivere shrugged again and went back to her own room, leaving Marwon's wife to her own musings.