A/N: Hello, everyone. If there still is someone who's reading this ..., sorry much delayed update again. To those who sent me a review, thank you ever so much, I need reviews like fresh air to breathe, and somehow I have a tendency to end up stuck with some rather stale air instead... so, many many thanks from all my heart to those who were kind enough to grant me some gusts of fresh air. This goes especially to Archimedes, to Jammeke, and of course to the reader who's sent me a heart rendering plea for Little Thomas' life. I must admit, everytime when I write about the little one's impending doom, my own eyes become wet and weter, so perhaps not all hope for the child is lost yet. but for now, gruesome events are impossible to stop from happening - or are they? Merlin is after all, still Emrys...
So please, do not give up on me and my storiy just yet. Give the Llanfair Heritage another chance. And if you find it in you to bless me with the charity and kindheartedness of the season, you can always do so via the review button ...
33. Megalomania and deafened ears
Arthur's words caused a turmoil that wasn't easy to appease.
However, in the end the Druids and their – involuntary – guests respected his wishes and reluctantly cleared the room.
Agneta and Mirella were the last to leave, Mirella not without laying a warm hand on Arthur's arm, meant as a comfort where comfort was hardly possible.
For a short while, they heard Morgyan's and Marwon's voices from the outside, and, for a moment, Morgyan's sharp yelp "Antek!"
Then all was quiet.
Merlin and his Prince were alone.
"I don't believe it" the warlock stammered at long last. "I just don't believe it. How could you…."
"Via Leon, I sent Mirella to Agneta when I realized what … had happened to Thomas" Arthur interrupted, his voice artificially cool and flat. "I had no idea things would get so violent. The Cymbrians couldn't be surprised, they fought like hell, and some Druids remembered they had an unsettled old score, for their dead loved ones from Cendred's assault. Temporarily, Agneta lost control." He grinned mirthlessly. "The Druids are only human after all."
"That's not what I'm asking you, Arthur….."
"The deal had been they take us all" the Prince went on, as if Merlin had not said anything "but I was knocked unconscious, by a spell or something, and when I came to, all was over, Guinivere and Thomas were gone. So was Gyrrin, and Cendred's mind. I took up pursuit, with Leon. Although Agneta did not want me to join them, she yielded in the end."
Arthur shrugged. "Morgyan had her hands full, so I gave her my ring, as prove that I was acting on my own accord. It was obvious that my father wouldn't hesitate to escape first chance he'd get."
Merlin fidgeted, but his instinct urged him to let Arthur tell things in his own way and time. "Uther did" the warlock therefore just confirmed. "Your father came back with an army, and he's been busy conquering Cymbria since then."
"Heavens, no" Arthur muttered.
"… Uther didn't believe a word Morgyan said" Merlin went on. "She gave the ring to me when we met her and Cendred in the woods, Gaius and Marwon and me."
"Gaius and Marwon weren't in Camelot?"
"No, they found me half dead in Markentower." Belatedly Merlin remembered that Arthur couldn't know that. "They brought me to a safe place, far away from Camelot, and nursed me back to health."
"Were you …. very sick?"
Merlin blushed. "Almost died. Took awfully long, to get me back on my feet. I'm sorry Arthur."
"Forget it Merlin. I just left you for dead. I did not check up on you, I did not make sure. I took off to Cendred's castle."
Merlin felt more and more anxious with every passing minute. This man, this …. defeated, self-loathing creature could not be his friend Arthur. "Did the Cymbrians leave you a choice?"
"That's not the point!"
"It's the only point" Merlin snapped, but then he restrained himself. More pressure wouldn't do. "But it doesn't matter. I am here now. We will free Little Thomas from Anwar's curse or spell or whatever it is, and go home. Finally."
The warlock's confidence grew whilst he spoke. Yes, that was how it would be. Piece of cake. All his self-doubts, his anxiety, his self-reproach – forgotten. How he had ever thought to stay in that self-created paradise of his, he did not know. Here was his mission, his purpose in life, and his magic already rose to the task. No Antek, no nothing, Arthur needed Merlin, and Merlin would be there.
Destiny fulfilled.
"You can't do it, Merlin. Nobody can."
"Since when do you know the first thing about magic?" the by now hilarious warlock joked.
"The Druids know. Anwar killed my little boy when he took his body. It's Anwar of Llanfair Agneta will sent to hell tonight, not Thomas."
Merlin forgot all his good intentions, his temper flared up. "If that is your way to console your heart, Arthur Pendragon, you're not what I took you for. No hero, no great man, just a coward, like … like a statue of self-pity."
In reflex, the warlock raised his fists, sure that Arthur would attack him, this instant.
He shouldn't have bothered.
The Prince sat down on a table, and put his face in both hands briefly before he spoke; quietly, but with great urgency "when I was told that you're alive, that you've come here…..Merlin, I swear, at first I thought all my troubles were over. I know how powerful you are, but it was me who experienced the Di'inshara, I felt Anwar's soul when I killed Alined's body, and I sensed the same presence inside my child."
Merlin's wrath, as always where Arthur was concerned, died as quickly as it had come into life. Especially as the Prince looked as if he was on the brink of collapse. "You survived, I freed you" the warlock eagerly assured Arthur, still irritated, but much softer than before. "I'm going to do the same for your son. It is that easy! Trust me!"
Arthur thought about that, at least that was what it looked like. In truth, he was searching for words to explain the inexplicable – why the most powerful warlock of all times was as powerless as anybody else.
Meanwhile Merlin blabbered on and on, whatever came into his mind, desperate to convince his best friend to leave magical things to magicians, and have a good night's sleep.
Truth be told, this new Arthur scared the former manservant witless. "How can you say that Thomas is already dead" he tried again to make his friend see reason. "We both know, from experience, that the host's mind is suppressed, not eradicated by Anwar's spirit. Once we've driven him out….."
"You can't drive him out!" Arthur yelled, jumping to his feet and darting towards the warlock until Merlin backed off as far as he could. "The Druids tried every possible thing, it's just not feasible."
"I defeated Anwar, you did, who says we can't do it again?"
"The Di'inshara made me Anwar's slave, not his vessel. It's different with Thomas. As long as the Rashnijaan exists, my son's soul is a captive inside the Demons' world. Can't you understand, I want Thomas to find peace, it's the only thing I can still do for him!"
"That's bullshit, Arthur. I know what I can do. Why can't you just trust me?"
"You cannot even touch the accursed Book without falling prey to Anwar's power. Agneta is a woman. Now that it has been found, she can do what she wants with Anwar, if the damn thing is near or not. It doesn't afflict her."
"Very well, Your Royal Highness, if you say I'm not a magician but a blundering idiot without any idea of what's going on here – who am I to argue with your superior wisdom!" Merlin said with acid sarcasm. "I'll work, I'll study and one day, very soon, I will know what to do."
Merlin snorted angrily for more emphasis as he continued "just allow me to mention that I defeated Cornelius Sigan, the man who had conquered death, without any preparation!" Conveniently, for the sake of his argument, he 'forgot' to mention Khilgarrah and Gaius.
However, Arthur was not convinced. "You fell like a lump when you first touched the Rashnijaan, you almost died when Antek carried it past you!"
"So I now know what I'm up against, that's all the better. I tell you, I'll find a way."
"There's not enough time, Merlin!"
"And why not? Thomas is a baby, but a year old, what can Anwar do, caught in such a body? Nothing! And even if he could, how could he ever be a threat to all of Albion? It doesn't make sense."
"I've seen what the Rashnijaan can do when I saw into Anwar's soul. The Book uses every shred of greed, of selfishness, of lust for power and recognition inside a man; it takes up the end of a thread and unravels your whole being, until you've become a part of it. Every man has his weak spot, and the Rashnijaan will find it."
"It couldn't seduce you. Nor me."
"Merlin, I'm a Prince. I'm Uther Pendragons son and heir. You let me be the judge of what a man might do for power and fortune, if he's led to it!"
"By a baby!"
"Agneta says that with every passing month, Anwar's presence in this world grows stronger. We kill my son's body next year, and he'll just take another host. Thomas would've died for nothing! Gods, is it true that I'm explaining the magic behind this to you?"
"Agneta says, Agneta says, who gives a shit" Merlin sputtered. "With all due respect to the Druids, Sire, I know what I'm doing, too."
As the Prince covered his head with both arms and groaned in frustration, Merlin decided that enough was enough. Resolutely he marched out of the hut, towards another of the shelters that were almost invisible in the falling fog. He'd show the prat what his Court Sorcerer was made of!
His instinct led him, now, that his magic fully knew what he was looking for. He heard indistinct shouting, and frantic footsteps in his back, but he knew they wouldn't reach him, not in time.
He kicked his way through the door and entered the place he had been looking for. And for sure, there he was, kicking his little legs in the air, as happily as the next baby.
The child was alone, in a cot, surrounded by a circle with strange symbols, drawn on the ground by coloured chalk.
Merlin sneered viciously. If that was the best Agneta could come up with – heavens above.
The pentagram's magic licked up his legs like greedy flames when he passed the line, but he knew it wouldn't do him any harm, not to Emrys.
With two long strides, Merlin was at the cot and lifted the little boy from his bed. "Hi, little one" he said softly. "Good to see you again."
The baby smiled back at him.
Outside, Arthur, the first to come near the shelter, ran into his wife. "What's happening" Guinivere screamed. "What's he doing?"
The Prince tried to brush her off, gently; all he wanted was reaching this hut, but – no way.
"You were wrong, Merlin can help our child; he's helping him now, isn't he? Arthur? Arthur!" Gwen clung to him, digging her nails into his arms, her face a grimace, half of despair, half made of hope.
"Guinivere, please, don't….."
From the shelter came a sharp, loud yell of pain and terror.
"Oh Gods" Arthur breathed. Dragging his wife with him, he ran to the hut.
But, deep within, he already knew he'd come too late.