26. A paradise of minor problems
"Time to wake up, prat" a familiar voice stated ruthlessly. "You've overslept a little."
Arthur's brain was still a bit sluggish, instinctively waiting for a no longer existent oppressor to step in. However, when it belatedly processed this special stimulus his body darted upwards at lightening speed.
"Bad idea" was the very adequate thought his brain produced next, duly bringing the distinct "knock" sound of bones connecting, the half surprised, half agonized groan, the subsequent "thumb" of a skinny backside on the stony floor and an aching princely head into a sensible context.
"You insensitive ….. oaf of a royal dollop-head" Merlin gasped as articulate as his jaw would let him after it had been almost dislocated by the hard Pendragon skull. "Any particular reason to knock me out or just one of your whims?"
"Merlin!" Arthur cried – and then he was at a complete loss. Sheepishly, as he thought he couldn't possibly let it at that, he added "it's you!"
"No" retorted the aggravated warlock, "it's my hollow spectre, wandering the realms of mortals to find a certain dim-wit Pendragon Prince. And look what good it did me!" Accusingly he pointed at the swelling bruise on his chin.
"You'll live, Merlin" Guinivere came to her husband's rescue "Arthur, can you walk? We should get out of here as long as we have the chance."
Instead of an answer the Prince just stared at her for a second, then he grabbed her and gave her a suffocating bear hug. "I'm so sorry" he said desperately and, unconnectedly, "I love you! You and Little Thomas. Did I ever tell you that?" He clung to her until her ribs screeched, holding her as if he'd never let her go and for Guinivere there could be no sweeter place than in this strangling pair of arms.
"Once or twice" she answered gently. "But we can bear hearing it more often."
Arthur nodded solemnly when he released her, as if he'd heard the most substantial news of all. A very important fact that had at long last been settled to mutual satisfaction!
Immediately afterwards an enraptured Merlin watched the fascinating change his best friend underwent in the split second he needed to pick up the sword and knife. One touch of the bloodied, smeared weapons and the warm-hearted, emotional human being turned into a stone-hard Prince. "What's the situation?"
Well, if Arthur wanted to play the gallant warrior, so would Merlin. And, as a special albeit secret punishment, the warlock would not tell his princely friend that he'd almost missed their chance of freedom too, as he had taken his time waking up from an obviously drug-induced sleep.
Instead the sorcerer put on his best derisive attitude and explained languidly "Your special attire drove Alined's men out of their last senses – luckily they never had many of those in the first place. I escaped from my cell as soon as my magic was free and sent a handful of them into oblivion. Now they mistake us both for the Rashnijaan's demons. I came here, found you, and waited patiently for your grand levee." He paused for more effect but not long enough to allow his Prince a reply. "Antek and Morgyan are outside, looking for the best way out of here as long as the commotion lasts. So, if it pleases your High- and Mightyness, we could go now?"
Gwen gave the warlock a punitive look that asked without words "now all three of us are beastly tough cookies or what?"
The warlock shrugged lightly. "Must be all this royal company we keep these days" his face retorted, silently yet eloquent.
"Any special reason you stand here and gawk, Merlin?" Arthur said impatiently; a tit-for-tat-response if there ever had been one, and, finally a victorious warlock, a bugged Prince and an incredulous Gwen – who would believe these two? - dashed out.
"How long have I been out?" Arthur whispered to his wife, still rattled by Merlin's accusation of having "overslept". Shameful enough that he should have fainted at all, Princes didn't do that where he came from.
"Barely 10 minutes, love" said the dutifully comforting wife. "Just long enough for a certain warlock to make it to our cell."
Merlin huffed from somewhere behind her, Arthur breathed easier after the reassurance, but Gwen still dwelt on 'the cell'. She'd spent some of her darkest hours in there, when Antek had explained to her and an incredulous Morgyan why her husband had had no choice but to lure his own wife into the trap.
Other than the young Count had thought, the casual mentioning of the Prince having just 'to sacrifice his bloody servant for his wife's and friends' sake' had done nothing to ease Gwen's mind. The thought of how Arthur would feel under this kind of duress drove her up the walls.
Now she wanted to pinch herself again and again to confirm that it wasn't a dream; that they both were here with her. Sweaty and stinking and dirtied and quite obviously only just returned from a trip to hell and back, but safe and sound.
As safe and sound as one could be in a castle still full of enemy soldiers who had fortunately lost their minds but unfortunately only for the moment.
A meanwhile fully armed Morgyan awaited them by the entrance to the ground floor corridor, as agreed, yet she was alone.
"Where's Antek?" asked Arthur.
"He's coming, he wanted to make sure of something, downstairs."
"To gloat over his father's latest body he has to go upstairs" the Prince snapped, which earned him an appalled side glance from all the others, except the last in the row. Who happened to be Merlin. Was there someone cared if Antek was insulted? Certainly not he.
"I'll take your word for it that he's kicked the bucket" the young Count panted as he appeared behind them just at this moment, with two swords of his own in his belt. Passing Merlin, Antek almost pushed him down the stairs, only to stand stock-still in front of the angered warlock, from where he grinned at the others: "Shall we go?"
Arthur agreed wholeheartedly.
Unmolested, almost unseen but by a few frightened, unarmed servants with Alined's crest on their clothes, the Camelotians, one Cymbrian and one Llanfair-belonging-only-to-himself-and-who-gives-a-shit made it to the spacious main yard that separated the manor house from the outer gate of the surrounding fortified walls.
And there their luck ran out.
The knight commanding Alined's guard had restored order to the frantic bunch. Deducing correctly that Arthur, who'd murdered King Alined – for that was what the soldiers still thought – would try to reach the only available exit together with his companions, the knight and his men effectively blocked the way to the gate.
But not in the open. One never knew, with sorcery being involved. Instead they were hiding behind the pillars and walls that surrounded the yard. The strategy had worked a treat in the forest when they'd first captured Pendragon, perhaps it would work again.
To make things more convincing, the few men visible in the yard bolted at the sight of Arthur and his friends, just as planned.
Salvation and freedom before their very eyes, none of the fugitives took care; the group ran towards the gate as fast as possible, taking no heed of their surroundings – or of each other.
It was only when they'd reached the centre of the yard that Antek. Alined's soldiers burst from their hiding places; yelling like madmen they surrounded the two couples.
Arthur realized his blunder instantly and the shock gripped him by the marrow. Frantic with terror he pushed Gwen behind him – but it was no good as the attackers now closed in on him from all sides. Before he could think he was entangled in close combat.
Three attackers the Prince killed in the first minutes of the fight. Alined had clearly saved on the wrong things when it came to his army, but it had been the quality, not the quantity that suffered from his austerity programme.
What was more, unlike Arthur and his friends Alined's men were rested, they had been well treated and fed during the last few days.
Bit by bit Pendragon found his strength ebbing away, until nothing but sheer tenacity and the fear of what defeat would bring kept him on his feet. His courage sank when he watched the injured Count being disarmed. However, Morgyan came to Antek's aid and, to a mesmerized Prince's surprise, defeated the two men who'd hassled young Llanfair with a few effortless, swift strikes.
"Arthur, behind you!" Antek yelled and the Prince darted round. Two attackers had aimed for his unprotected back, with their swords raised high into the air, attacking with all the speed and strength they could muster. It was a formidable, albeit not very honourable approach to killing an exhausted man from behind and Arthur knew instantly that he stood no chance. One he would take out, the other one would get through.
But it wasn't his imminent death or recapture which made his blood run cold. From the left side a slender dark-skinned figure threw herself at the attackers, looking so very tiny and fragile against their bulk, her reckless sacrifice so absurdly meaningless in a fight of giants against a dwarf.
And yet the foolishly reckless move brought Arthur the decisive two or three seconds he needed. He fell down, rolled over his shoulder and, miraculously, succeeded, against all odds, in tripping one of the attackers. The other screamed when Arthur's knife, still the ceremonial blade Anwar had used for his rituals, slid open his shank to the bone and with it the artery. The man also stumbled and fell on his face.
It would have been an incredible success, had the dying man not buried Gwen beneath him, his heavy body made even heavier by a load of chainmail, armour and weapons. With a sickening sound Gwen's head hit the ground and she lay still. Motionless.
Without thinking Arthur jumped to his feet and ran to the man's side, fully focussed on making sure that she was alive, in one piece.
It was in the mirror of her wide, dazed eyes that he saw the second man put his sword point on his neck. "Drop it" Alined's head knight said. "One move and you both are dead!"
On the other side of the battlefield Morgyan lowered her sword when four men at once encircled Antek who stood with his back to the wall.
The fight was over.
Despite the many still or writhing bodies on the ground it was no question who had lost. Alined's head knight was master of the situation. "Get up, to your feet, both of you. And don't try anything; my archers have you in full sight."
Whilst some of Alined's men collected their captives' weapons, the Prince and the others were herded to the yard's left side, where, for unloading carts no doubt, a long, strong wooden beam went from one roof to the other of two spacious warehouse sheds.
A quick glance assured Arthur that neither Morgyan nor Antek were seriously injured, except for the stump of an arrow still sticking out of Llanfair's right shoulder. Gwen huddled to her husband's side. She was only half conscious; if she felt any panic her frantic breathing was the only sign of it.
Arthur laid his arm around her and pulled her close. He just refused to think of where and how Merlin was.
During the whole fight, the warlock had been invisible. Come to think of it he'd been gone before they'd reached the yard's open. Which could only mean one thing – and that was too dreadful to ponder.
Apparently the enemy had the same thought. "Where's the wizard brat" one soldier said, trying hard to make amends for his former cowardice by hitting his elbow into Arthur's ribs. "Lost his appetite for fightin?"
"He's dead" the Prince said hoarsely, biting down the sudden pain. "One of your men in the cellar killed him."
Saying it was – almost – believing it. Merlin, you idiot, where are you?
The soldier would've loved to continue the discussion but his superior had other plans, as he pushed him roughly aside.
"An inglorious end to a glorious life" Alined's former head knight addressed his prisoner. Arthur remembered him all too well from his first capture. A man of almost two metres' height; with broad shoulders, a pockmarked face, black eyes and greyish hair. A no kidding type. "No doubt my late King's heir would prefer to get you alive, Prince Arthur. But with my few men I can't take the risk."
The Prince watched the other soldiers bringing a few long ropes, each with a hangman's noose and he felt faint and furious at the same time. Yet with a whole bunch of swords threatening him and the others he did not resist when their hands were tied behind their backs.
He could not allow this to happen, however meagre the hope of success was, he had to try: "I killed King Alined. Leave the others alone, they've done no harm to your King or you."
"Don't beg, Arthur" Morgyan brusquely interrupted. "He'll scream himself to death soon enough. There are two Kings in Albion who will make sure of that."
The knight took the bait, neck and crop. To Llanfair's nifty mind it meant survival already when the enemy commander talked to Morgyan instead of just going on with the executions. "Two Kings, eh? And who would you be; the keeper of His Majesty's chamber pots?"
"Where have you been living, in a slum?" retorted Antek in Morgyan's place. "She's Morgyan, sister to King Cendred of Cymbria, and his sole legitimate heir. The Lady your soldier almost murdered is the Crown Princess of Camelot." He grinned scornfully. "All the others here you know. Hang us and I can only hope you've already bought a rope for your own neck, it would be quicker than what Cendred and Uther would do to you."
"There's never been much love wasted between Cymbria and Camelot" the knight replied with a somewhat forced indifference.
Arthur pulled himself together. The ropes were hanging from the beam. Almost ready. No time for being speech- or witless. "There will be now" he said "my father King Uther will marry the Princess Morgyan in two months time!"
The effects of that statement were – interesting, to say the very least.
Antek, from whom Morgyan had kept these marriage plans for obvious reasons, beamed, from one ear to the other. When it came to women he wasn't the brightest of chaps but Morgyan's declarations of her undying wish to keep him safe, to protect her precious little lamb from all harm had been hard to miss – and hard to misunderstand.
Gwen, not altogether aware of the circumstances, rolled her eyes.
Morgyan fumed – but she did it silently.
Alined's knight frowned. The second thoughts and qualms this news gave him were plainly written across his face.
He was in a dreadful plight. He could not hope to secure these prisoners, not for a trip through half of Camelot, he could not hang them, as a two-front war would finish his country and King, and he could not let them go – his new King would've his head for it.
Alined's heir would feast for a month that his despicable uncle was dead, but he couldn't admit to that, could he. No, in public the new King had to keep up appearances, which meant, among other things, that he must hate and punish the man who'd murdered his predecessor, even though he really wished to give him a medal.
Damn, damn, damn. To hell with politics.
The unfortunate victor was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely heard the horns calling from somewhere outside the manor house's premises.
Morgyan's face, however, lit up at the sound. "If you've trouble deciding, that should help you. I know these horns; my brother's men are at the gate!"
It was too late for Alined's much tested guards to close the gate, as the advance of Cendred's troops already entered the yard in full gallop, Morgyan's barely 16 years old bastard-nephew Gyrrin in the lead. The spitting image of his proud father.
When he spotted Sir Leon directly behind the Cymbrian leader, Arthur knew that their troubles were over. His knees gave in for a second, but luckily only Gwen noticed. "Surrender now" the Prince said to the appalled knight as haughtily as he could "and I swear no harm will come to you and your men."
Morgyan and Antek huffed in unison, but both thought that there would be other days to adduce the supercilious Pendragon that that was not for him to decide.
Alined's knight knew when the odds were against him. When Leon and Gyrrin dismounted, the prisoners had already been untied.
For once in their lives, nobody found it peculiar that a knight, a Prince and a former handmaid of Camelot hugged each other for dear life.
Especially as Morgyan and Gyrrin were doing exactly the same. "Ma Tante, if you'd been hurt my father would have laid waste to all of Camelot" Gyrrin said, dead seriously, and again Morgyan made a mental note that she'd some explaining to do as soon as she came round to it.
But first things first and first of all she had to see her brother. Before the affectionate tyrant overflowed with grief about his little sister's unknown fate and did something very, very stupid. Like taking his anger out on a most unfortunate King of Camelot. Or on each and anyone of Antek's men he could catch. Or on some wretched Druids who'd done him no harm.
"Let's go home, Gyrrin" she said, sobbing a little for more effect. She adored her nephew but he was a man, and needed to be treated as such. Her brother was the only exception. Him she took seriously. Sometimes. "These were horrible, horrible days" she fretted with a heart-breaking look "I want to go home. Please can we go home now? Look at my clothes, and I'm so dirty!"
Gyrrin, as always, melted away under her pleading eyes. Excitedly he began chatting of the great feast his father would give in honour of the occasion and how happy he was to find his beloved aunt unharmed. Only once he interrupted himself to ask: "What about the Pendragons and Llanfair? Are they coming with us?"
"Naturally" Morgyan said, smiling radiantly through a well-timed veil of tears, "where else should they go?"
"And Alined's men?" Gyrrin began an angry frown but that was not what Morgyan wanted. She needed her nephew in a good mood for a speedy return home. Let Cendred deal with Alined's guards, her brother needed a little amusement from time to time. Kept him healthy and in good spirits as well as his clutches away from better people.
On the other hand, no use aggravating a certain Crown Prince any further, not now.
The Princess Royal of Cymbria knew when and how to stall for time if a situation called for it. "Oh, Gyrrin, how should I know? I'm not as you, not a knight. I would simply lock them up in the dungeons of this manor. You could leave a third of your troops behind to guard them until Cendred knows what he wants."
After Cendred had talked it through with his sister, of course.
"Splendid idea" Gyrrin agreed, his face all sunshine once more. "My clever little aunt."
A casual wave with his hand, some short commands and Cendred's well trained men had their orders. Gyrrin went back to pleasant chatting with his father's sister.
Neither Antek nor Arthur had any say in the matter from there on.
Gwen was taken care of most considerately, by Morgyan's personal command. But when the Pendragon Crown Prince started a fight for a chance to look for his lost servant, the Cymbrians didn't take it very well.
Arthur's permission wasn't asked when they took him away and in the end he could consider himself fortunate for being allowed to ride freely and speak to Leon instead of being hauled away like a tightly roped piece of package freight.
Antek was simply led away by some of the Cymbrian knights what, as Cendred's liegeman, he could hardly refuse.
After what could not have been more than two hours after their arrival the cavalcade was on their way again, back to Cendred's present residence.
Morgyan's nervous gaze swept over the countryside as they rode out, over the edge of the forest around the manor's fortifications. But all was empty and quiet.
Much quieter herself she settled down for another chat with Gyrrin.
Arthur, however, had nothing to calm him down. In vain Leon waited for any sign of joy about the last-second rescue. Worried by the inexplicable dark mood, he started a most unwelcome inquisition.
At first the Prince could distract his friend by asking after Leon's own fate. Dutifully but not very happy the knight told him about Agneta's betrayal which left Arthur with the uncomfortable knowledge that not only he and his father were at the Cymbrians' mercy, but also his son. He tried to be mad at Agneta, even at Gwen, for endangering the little one, but he couldn't.
If anyone was to blame for this tangled mess, it was Arthur Pendragon and him alone.
Leon, truly scared by Arthur's face, tried to bring him out of his misery. "Gaius and Marwon?" he asked, convinced that the two clever magicians would always come out on top of things.
"Somewhere on the road to Camelot" Arthur said listlessly. "Thank Gods for small mercies. But if my father wanted you to be on that road, too, why are you here?"
The knight blushed under his beard and he looked guilt-stricken for a moment. "I thought…." he began, but he broke off. It took him almost a minute to go on. "I thought…. if I was to bring a useless lie to Camelot anyway, telling everybody to keep their feet still and nothing else – I might as well bring my wife to her tribe and join those who look for you and Gw… I mean the Crown Princess of Camelot."
He looked at his Prince, searching for exculpation, and Arthur was touched against his will. However, it only made things worse. He instilled such loyalty in people and he didn't deserve it, he just didn't deserve it.
Leon, against all his usual customs, continued to pry into his Prince's privacy, hell-bent on knowing what had happened but Arthur kept the details to himself. It was enough that Leon knew about Alined's attempts at forcing Merlin to cooperate in some weird magical experiment which had gone terribly awry.
The Prince dreaded the inevitable question that would now follow as sure as night follows day.
"Where is Merlin now, Sire?"
Arthur opened his mouth to say "I don't know, I hope he's all right" but he found he couldn't say it. No one and nothing would keep the always loyal, always selfless, always far-too-brave warlock from coming to his Prince's side in a fight. Nothing but one.
"I don't know what happened but he's dead, Leon. Somewhere in this accursed house he lies, dead. And it is my fault!"
There wasn't much talk between the two after that.
Meanwhile the men Gyrrin had left behind made themselves comfortable in the manor house, once they'd locked up the survivors of Alined's guard in the cellar. Peculiarly there were no wounded among the captives. The injured men had suddenly died, as soon as Camelot's Crown Prince had turned his back. A very embittered former head knight of King Alined didn't think very highly of Pendragon honour after that and it was just as well that Arthur did not know.
It would be a short wait, if the Cymbrians knew their rash King. The manor was well stocked, with fine food and wine. The whole thing made for a welcome vacation.
"Where's the carcass" the leader asked one of his aides, referring to Alined's body.
"Six feet under ground, as you said Sir. But what'bout 'im?" A dirty shoe prodded the lean unconscious figure on the ground, not very harshly but not too gently either.
"We should've told our Gyrrin he's here" the leader said doubtfully, staring uncomfortably at the black hair, the pale skin. Maybe the knocked-out lad meant trouble? To whom did he belong? Alined? Pendragon? That Llanfair scum? Or, heaven beware, to Princess Morgyan?
The aide shrugged. "We only found 'im on the cellar steps after 'is 'ighness was gone." Not one of Cendred's personal guards cared about Gyrrin's illegitimacy; to them he was their Crown Prince and Gods help the idiots who said something else. "How was we t'know they've boys lyin' around 'ere?"
"Any idea why he doesn't budge?"
"Might be drunk!"
"Don't think he is."
After some more frowning and hm-hming the leader came to a decision. "Let him lie in a corner on a blanket as long as he wants. If he wakes up, fine. If he pegs out, it's not my fault."
So it happened that Merlin was pushed aside like so much dirt, to fend for himself against an enemy nobody else could see or hear.
Outside the manor's walls Marwon and Gaius huddled together, waiting for the night. They had been powerless against Arthur and Gwen being taken away but once Gaius had spotted Leon at the Prince's side he had convinced himself that his pet Pendragons were safe and comfy enough.
Which was convenient as it left him free to look for his boy. Which, come hell or high water, he would do, with or without Marwon's support.
Surprisingly - and luckily as Gaius had no idea how to persuade a man by barking and woofing alone - the Druid needed no persuasion at all.
Like Gaius, the young Druid had seen Leon riding with the Cymbrians and for him that meant all was well with his tribe and sister. So he, too, could focus on another duty.
Marwon knew he had been a horrible embarrassment and disappointment for his father from day one. Whatever happened, he would not let the old man down again. Yet at the same time he'd show the late Lord Druid that his son wasn't worthless after all.
His was the quest of a warrior, not of a sorcerer. Something a hapless almost magic-blind Druid with a knight's skills could actually do.
As his father Arenboarth would've done, and Prince Arthur given any chance, Marwon would search for the great Emrys.
He didn't know where, he didn't no how, but the manor house at night was as good a place to start as any.
It was a pity, though, that neither healer nor Druid had had a chance to talk to Antek or Morgyan about their plans. Both nobles could have given them a hint or two as to what had happened to Arthur's best friend.
But even if they had known about Marwon's and Gaius' quest, Count and Princess both had many a reason to keep their mouths shut.