23. No one has greater love

"Meaning that on the last evening I spent in his chambers he told me to strip and lay down for him in his bed. I obeyed him because I couldn't endure him watching my thoughts and feelings during the act."

The few words let Merlin jerk back as if he'd been bitten by a snake.

Like a puppet he let Anwar/Alined drag him back and close the shutter of the small spy window quickly but stealthily before he roughly pushed the magician out on the corridor.

Merlin didn't brood on the necessity of such secretiveness on his captor's side. He was almost grateful for it. The warlock didn't want – in fact he didn't dare – to listen further. What he had heard was more than enough to throw him out of his balance. The mere thought of his royal friend being humiliated like that made him furious, the risk of a repetition at the monster's hand terrified him and all the while his captured magic was reeling inside him, desperate to get out and destroy this heinous scoundrel, this unnatural abomination that had such misused and twisted the power of sorcery.

The existence of an evil like Anwar of Llanfair and the Book of Demons was an insult to everything Merlin believed in, as a magician, as a Dragonlord and as a man.

And yet, for all his fury and hot passion, here he was. His back leaning against the rough surface of a wall, his legs wobbly, his hands twisting uselessly and his face smeared with tears. Truth be told, the most powerful magician of all times felt just about as powerful as a baby rabbit in a foxhole.

"A penny for your thoughts, dear warlock" Anwar smiled; his sarcasm peculiarly befitting Alined's features. "Or no, let me guess: 'Anything', you said before. You'd do anything to see Arthur freed from the Di'inshara. Although he seems to prefer my son's company over yours."

"Shut up" Merlin yelled. "What do you know about it?"

The old Count clicked his tongue. "Touchy, aren't we? Perhaps I've hit a sore spot?"

The warlock blushed with shame, because it was so very true. On top of everything else, he was jealous. Pitiably, degradingly, childishly jealous and sorry for himself that Arthur, Merlin's best and closest friend, should have chosen to make this confession to Antek of Llanfair and not to him.

There was a slight in that, and it stung. It stung so terribly that it matched his pity and concern for Arthur's plight and somehow that made things even worse. Linked with the degrading inability to do something about it, the feeling was enough to drive the warlock mad.

In other words, Anwar had him exactly where he wanted him - Merlin was at the end of his wits. His reply was therefore passionate but not very impressive, not even to his own ears. "Leave Arthur alone or I'll…." he said and he himself had no clue as to what he was going to threaten the monster with; the creature who was presently holding all the cards.

"You'll what, dear warlock?" Anwar continued mercilessly. "If I went down to your friend, right now, for a bit of fun, would you burst into tears – again, as I may add? Beg me, on your knees? Or would you crush me with your thoughts alone?" He shook his head in mocked wonder. "Tell me, Merlin, Emrys, greatest warlock of all times, what are you going to do to save your friend from my evil clutches? Shatter me, let my blood run cold with panic, make me tremble with fear and dread."

"I've already said I'd do anything. What is it you want?"

"Want? What would I want from you?"

Merlin winced. He guessed where this was going and yet he was a blindfolded mouse in a labyrinth, no chance of avoiding the trap. "You…. you said you might let him go. For my support."

"Did I say that? When did I say that?"

"Some hours ago, in the torture chamber."

"You shouldn't put too much into that, I love to chatter away, it's my one weakness. I've caught myself a prize catch, a Prince for a slave. You fought me with all your might and here I am, right as rain, with a King's body and a King's power at my disposal, and your royal friend at my mercy. Why should I give him up?"

"For a price you said, you'd dissolve the Di'inshara!"

Tensed and at the same time thrilled, Anwar scrutinized his counterpart. It was unbelievably easy to bait this young man, this innocent boy, and yet the power of his inborn magic made the Rashnijaan's demonic spirit hum and twist in nervous anticipation. There was no denying that the Book was scared, scared of a power with which it could not hope to compete in fair and open battle.

Just as well that this battle would not be fair at all. "Oh, that" the old Count said casually. "You could take Arthur's place, you know."

Merlin's first reaction was, oddly enough, a kind of professional interest. "Is that possible?" Only then his mind began pondering the implications and he felt even sicker. But in spite of that, one thought was preeminent: "Better me than Arthur. I'm a warlock. There must be something I can do. Once Arthur is free, I can….."

"Oh, easily" Anwar interrupted his thoughts. "We'd undergo the same ritual as Arthur and I did. If I use the same consecrated blade I used with His Royal Highness, the bond that ties him to me will be broken. Irreversibly."

A faint memory grazed Merlin's mind. Something about a knife that was already under way. Yet, being terrified, worn out and upset, he couldn't get hold of the thought. "This won't work" he replied instead, desperate that this was leading nowhere. "I cannot withstand the Rashnijaan's magic, you said so yourself."

"You wouldn't have to. You'd be bound to me, not to the Book of Demons. But it must be voluntarily. A life for a life, a soul for a soul, bla, bla, bla. I'm sure as a fellow magician you know the basics of our trade." Anwar smiled; the genuinely kind, amiable face could've fooled anyone who didn't know who he was. What he was. A ghoul, a vicious fiend. "Would you do that for Arthur? Or is it too much demanded? Speak freely, he can't hear us."

It was poison masked with honey and it hit the mark, spot on. Merlin saw a light at the end of the tunnel and the mouse ran towards that light, be it cast by a lantern or by hellfire. "When?"

Anwar almost sighed with relief. He'd feared, once Merlin knew what the price was going to be, his 'anything' would be much qualified. Apparently there was no bound to his loyalty. Stupid boy. "There're preparations to make. Tomorrow, at sunset. You have my word. But for now…."

Merlin never saw the fist coming that hit his chin and knocked him out flat.

"Sorry little one, I can't allow you to brood on things at leisure and have all kinds of second thoughts" Anwar muttered under his breath. Then he called for Alined's guards who were all too eager to do their 'King's' bidding. They brought the unconscious warlock to another cell where a strong sleeping draught made sure that he wouldn't come to anytime soon.

The ghoul watched them tromping out and sighed. One caught; one to go. As he had conveniently 'forgotten' to tell Merlin, he needed the consent of all parts of the Di'inshara bond to shift it from one to the other. And he had the distinct feeling that he'd be hard put to convince Arthur of sacrificing his best friend to save himself. No, our noble Prince would need some other means of persuasion. Luckily those means were approaching the Manor House this very moment, on their own legs and quite willingly.

"No rest for the wicked" Anwar told himself when he made his way to the Prince's prison but he chuckled as he said it. This was going to be wicked indeed, but it would be so much fun.

Gods, it was great to be alive.

An hour or two later Morgyan's 'rescue team' finally made it to Markentower, protected – or so the four gallant if somewhat unorthodox fighters for Arthur's and Antek's life and freedom thought – by the falling dusk.

They left their horses in the shadow of the forest and cautiously sneaked further towards the building on foot until they reached the wall.

Only now the Cymbrian Princess was willing to admit that a plan was needed that was still to be made. "Gaius, you know the place best. How can we get in without being seen?"

No answer.

"Umh, Gaius? Hello? I'm talking to you, man."

Nothing. Just silent staring at the dark wall in front of them. The old healer as well as the young Druid chief could've been stone statues fallen from their pedestals.

"What is the matter with you two?" The Princess' angry hiss let Gwen snap out of her own thoughts. After she'd recovered the knife from the burial site her high spirits had been crushed by terrible visions. She'd seen Arthur in horrible torment, Merlin being tied to a stake and burned alive, Camelot being destroyed and all her people lying dead, horribly mutilated. It had all added to her sense of urgency, to the knowledge that they had no time to waste or their loved ones would suffer for it.

"What's the matter" Guinivere now asked, alarmed.

"That" Morgyan growled furiously "is the one thing I would want to know. The two oafs are sleeping with their eyes open!"

And no matter what they tried, if they pinched the men, or kicked or hit or even tickled them – Gaius and Marwon could not be roused. They might have been dead.

Or so they looked. Inwardly, Gaius was seething with rage and frustration. Too late he had realized that the idea to reinforce the rescue team with two sorcerers had backfired the moment the shadow of Markentower had fallen on him and the Druid. Their bodies went limp and their voice was paralyzed, effectively making them prisoners of their own flesh and bones. Gaius' mind went frantically through every book, through every experience and every piece of learning on magic he'd ever got but nothing sufficed. Especially as he had, cursed be it, not Merlin's gift of using spells with his thoughts alone. Neither had, quite obviously, Marwon.

"Help me, Gwen. We can't leave them here. Go on, move your ass My Lady, we must bring them back to the forest before we can go in."

"Yes" Gaius thought, overjoyed. "A few paces further away and the spell will be broken."

"No" Guinivere said hoarsely. "There's no need!"

"What the…" Morgyan began but Gwen's finger pointing at something behind her made her shut her mouth and turn round. The Cymbrian's eyes widened, stupefied by the sight of Arthur Pendragon walking out of the Manor House's main gate as if he had not a care in the world.

A minute later an almost fainting Gwen held her husband in her arms and she laughed and cried at the same time with pure relief and happiness. Arthur and his wife stammered across each other, some frantic, idiotic things about the other being well, unharmed as well as miracles, disbelief and never-let me/you-go and then they began all over again.

Until Morgyan lost her temper. "Damn it, Arthur! What has happened? And where's Antek?"

"Still inside the house, with Sir Oswald and the rest of the Camelot knights who rescued us from Alined's men two days ago." He frowned suddenly, as if a thought had come to him only now. "But how come you are here, Morgyan? Does your brother know where you are?"

"I'm Cendred's sister, not his pet dog" Morgyan retorted angrily. "I can go where I please. And right now it pleased me – and your wife – to save your royal butt and the Count of Llanfair from a fate worse than death."

Arthur grinned merrily. "That's awfully kind of you dear cousin but you're too late. Camelot's knights found and freed us. Merlin was injured though, that's why we aren't on our way home yet."

Gwen winced. "Is it bad?"

"No, not bad. But we couldn't risk it, the journey might've done him further harm, so we decided to wait a few days before we're going back to Camelot. I was just about sending a messenger to the Druids to let you and my father know where we'd got to…." Arthur interrupted himself and he looked at Morgyan questioningly "come to think of it, how could you know about our abduction?"

"To make a long and twisted story short and plain" Morgyan said impatiently "your father is my brother's prisoner. As was your wife before I took her on this quest to this godforsaken place."

"My father is what?"

"Cendred had the marvellous idea that I and you are gettin' married, for my young bastard nephew's sake."

"I do beg your pardon?"

"As you weren't available, for more than one reason alone, some of them being named Guinivere and Thomas, Cendred found it seemly to marry me off to your father. You, should you miraculously escape the enchanted lands and be restored to the world of humble mortals, are to be my stepson if Cendred has his way."

Arthur just gawked at her, speechless. He looked terrified.

"Don't look that afraid, Arthur, it's not very flattering. Some people do consider me beautiful" Morgyan snapped.

"That much is true, darling" Gwen rubbed salt into Arthur's wounds. "She is very handsome. And a Princess Royal. Exactly what Uther had in mind for you. Not all eyes would weep for you. I wonder if I would."

Her husband's eyes narrowed in his typical 'we'll-talk-about–that–later-and-then-in-full-detail' manner.

"Anyway" the Princess said hastily "consider it one of Cendred's idiotic jokes, Arthur. Now that your knights are here, we can just send word to my brother, he'll release Uther and we will say no more of it. Once I'm married to Antek, I…."

"You what?"

"Stop repeating what, what, what, Pendragon; you're not a bloody parrot! Where's Antek? Oh do shut up, I'll find him myself."

Arthur watched her trampling towards the gate and vanishing behind it before he turned back to his wife. "I'll expect you can explain this to me. But first of all: Where is our son, woman?"

"Thomas is safe; he's with Agneta, Marwon's wife. Oh Gods, Marwon…." And only now Gwen knelt and shook the two unconscious magicians, thereby alerting Arthur to their presence for the first time. "What's ailing them?" he asked, shaking his head, clearly thinking that this was a day of signs and wonders.

"I don't know, we came closer to Markentower and they …. fainted, just like that."

The Prince closed his eyes, slapped his forehead and sighed with relief. "Oh, that. It's the walls you see. Some protective spell, it only works on magicians. Same thing happened to Merlin when we first came here. I made the mistake to move him and that caused his injury. You just let them rest here for an hour or two and they'll be right as rain."

"You're sure?" Gwen wasn't very convinced.

"Absolutely. Come inside and greet our knights, they'll want to know about my father firsthand. I'll have blankets and cushions send out to Gaius and Marwon and they can sleep it off."

Still not completely persuaded Gwen let her husband drag her towards the entrance, her eyes searching the still figures in the grass. It wasn't like Arthur to leave them like this. It was cold, and the grass was damp and what about wild animals? But if he'd send out men to them – what else could he do?"

As long as she was in sight Gaius looked at her and Arthur, silently screaming at them both, a senseless warning.

Moving them away from the walls was the only way to break the spell; that was a fact. By no means Merlin could have been hurt the way Arthur had described it.

Why the hell had Camelot's Crown Prince lied to his wife, lied through his teeth?

Something was wrong here, Gaius knew. He also remembered the creeping impression he'd had in Blackrock's burial vault. That the corpse had been alive. It was completely impossible that the two things were connected, and yet… and yet….. "Merlin, where are you? Can't you hear me?" With all his strength Gaius tried to reach out to his ward, hoping that Merlin's singular talent would make up for his guardian's lack of telepathical powers.

It was a pity that Gwen lost sight of the old healer before his still body suddenly jerked as if kicked in the guts. So far his and Marwon's eyes had been open, but now they rolled upwards and closed.

Slowly but constantly, blood trickled from their nostrils.

As the day went by, nobody came out of Markentower.