The camp was in organised chaos. As they rejoined the main group Arthur followed Merlin as he supervised the movement of the injured. Lancelot still rode his horse but also pressed down on his left thigh to stanch the bleeding.
"Arthur, apply pressure to that, and keep your hands on."
"Yes, My Lord."
Arthur walked at the side of the horse, putting his hands in place to keep the rough dressing on the wound. It allowed Lancelot to concentrate on staying in the saddle, leaning forward and gripping the pommel. Arthur grimaced as he saw the blood flowing from the wound, but he pressed down as hard as he could, while they struggled back to the camp.
Merlin stalked about shouting orders at people while Percival helped Lancelot dismount from the horse. Arthur had managed to wind the temporary bandage round Lancelot's leg, twisting the material in his hand to keep the pressure on. As he did so he caught the flash of gold stitching and realised the material that Merlin had used to stanch the wound was his cloak. He hadn't really seen the green colour as the blood had stained it dark. Arthur hoped he didn't have to try and wash it.
"Bring him in," Merlin ordered and Percival helped Lancelot limp into Merlin's tent, putting him down on Merlin's bed. Merlin gently elbowed Arthur out of the way to release the temporary bandage and check the wound. Lancelot huffed, looking pale, his skin waxy as he gritted his teeth.
"Arthur, heat some water, I need fresh bandages, and find some honey from the stores if you can. I had a medical kit, a small box with runes etched on it."
Thankfully Arthur remembered where he put it, dashing across the tent to gather it up and bring it back. He handed it to Merlin and then scurried off to get everything that Merlin asked for. Fortunately it didn't take him long to reset the fire and set the water heating. The rest of the camp appeared to be concentrating on the same thing, treating those who had received injuries and moving the bodies they had brought back to a suitable spot for burial. Merlin had ordered the bodies of Cenred's mercenaries burnt.
Eventually, as the water started to steam Arthur picked up the pot and carried it into Merlin, pouring some of the water into a bowl as directed and Merlin cleaned the wound up.
"Help Leon," Merlin ordered Arthur. The knight now sat in Merlin's tent, trying to get his armour off. Arthur went over to help, struggling with the buckles. There were two nasty dents in the armour and it took Arthur a little while to work around them. Leon winced on occasion but said nothing when Arthur murmured apologies. Eventually he freed the armour and started on Leon's chain mail. The knight gritted his teeth as he lifted his right arm to allow Arthur to pull the shirt off. Arthur worked as carefully as he could, and pulled it clear of Leon.
Leon helped himself out of his own shirt and turned his head to examine the pattern of bruises that were forming.
"Arthur, cool water from the stream, find some bandages, or any material really to compress that. The main issue there seems to be swelling."
"Nothing's broken," Leon assessed, prodding his shoulder. Arthur ran off again, and as he ran back he looked around for something to use. He paused on the corner, in the gap between two tents and peered around the corner. A little distance away, caught by the light of the setting sun, Percival stood over someone. The man in front of him cowering away, and as he turned his head Arthur realised it was Maleagant. Percival was a good head taller than the other man and he glared down at him. Whatever Percival said caused Maleagant to agreed, slightly frantically. Arthur ducked back as the knight turned his head, trying to escape Percival. Retreating back Arthur walked around the far side of the tents and took the long way round, not wanting to be seen by the pair. On getting back to the main tent Arthur rummaged to find something he could use, eventually picking up his old tunic. He bundled it up and then dumped it into the bowl, letting it soak up the water. After prodding it a few times he drew it out, wringing it and he placed it over Leon's shoulder, draping it over the bruises.
"Merlin!" Percival appeared. "Gareth's in a bad way, I think you need to take a look at him."
Merlin paused in the process of stitching Lancelot's wound. He turned his attention to Arthur.
"You can finish this."
Arthur's eyes widened. "I don't know how."
"Can you sew?"
Arthur nodded too shocked to use his voice. Merlin jerked his head to indicate that Arthur should come over. Arthur did as he was told, looking apprehensively at the wound. Merlin lithely rose to his feet and Arthur knelt down on the silk throw on the floor, patterned a deep burgundy. Merlin performed another stitch.
"You need to go in through here, and draw it through before inserting the needle through there."
Arthur shuffled on his knees, moving closer and apprehensively taking the needle from Merlin.
"Go on," Merlin said.
"Merlin!" Percival snapped. Lancelot winced as Arthur, less elegantly than Merlin, inserted the needle into his flesh.
"Sorry," Arthur whimpered.
"You need to push firmly Arthur. Lancelot knows a little discomfort is better than bleeding to death. Just carry on."
Merlin gathered up his medical equipment while he watched Arthur struggling on. Lancelot sat forward slightly, watching him work. He glanced up at Arthur.
"I know enough to help him do it."
Merlin disappeared with Percival.
"Just get it through there now Arthur," Lancelot instructed, wincing again.
"Do you want something for the pain?" Leon asked, slowly getting up. "I'll find some wine."
Arthur focused on what the task he had been given. After a few bad stitches he started to gain some confidence, following the instructions that Merlin had given and Lancelot backed up for him. He had stitched half the gap when Leon returned with two wine skins. One of them he handed to Lancelot, who pulled the stopper out with his teeth, spitting it onto the table and he took a deep swig. Leon did the same with his own. Arthur kept his head down and carried on. A moment later Merlin returned.
"How is he?" Leon asked.
"Lost him," Merlin said. Arthur paused, looking up as Merlin came closer. Merlin didn't look at him, instead he examined the stitching. "That's good. That's good Arthur, finish it off."
Arthur carried on. Merlin walked past him and took the wine skin as Leon offered it out. Merlin took a deep swallow, sighing as he handed the alcohol back.
"Merlin it's going to happen. We all know the risks of what we do," Leon said. Arthur glanced up, the expression on Merlin's face was hard to read, it was not an expression that Arthur had seen before. Percival stepped through the tent entrance a moment later, his hands and arms stained with blood. Merlin turned to glare at him.
"Go and wash before you come in here!"
Percival raised his eyebrows and retreated again. Merlin stepped over to Lancelot and Arthur.
"I'll finish that. You clean yourself up and tidy up."
Arthur didn't look up as he replied. "Yes, My Lord."
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Merlin finished stitching Lancelot's wound and the knight settled down on Merlin's bed, as the most comfortable place to recuperate. Arthur flitted about, fetching and carrying, bringing food - mainly for Percival - and tidying up. He didn't see Merlin for a long while, until he wandered close to the edge of the camp and saw Merlin sat some distance away, perched on the root of a large tree. Arthur wandered away and returned with the bowl of warmed stew that he had kept from Percival just in case Merlin returned and wanted to eat.
Arthur didn't know if Merlin wanted food, or even to be disturbed but it was his job to tend to his master's needs. Anticipating them was part of that. Even if Merlin didn't want anything, and he irritated him by interrupting Arthur didn't think he would get punished for it. Merlin turned his head at the sound of someone approaching. Arthur held out the bowl.
"You haven't eaten, My Lord."
Merlin looked up at Arthur for a moment before reaching out to take the bowl.
"Thank you."
"I brought water too," Arthur offered out the water skin, which Merlin dropped by his side.
"Have you had something?" Merlin asked.
Arthur nodded. He had taken the hint of the last couple of days. Merlin didn't want to be chasing around after him for something as simple as Arthur eating a meal. Arthur guessed he had permission to eat, sleep and look after himself.
"Yes, My Lord. Do you require anything else?"
Merlin ate a mouthful of food and glanced up again. "Sit down."
Arthur lowered himself onto his knees and sat back on his heels, wrapping his coat tightly around himself. It hadn't turned that cold yet, but over the afternoon the wind had started to pick up. Arthur waited a moment. Merlin didn't pay him much attention, concentrating on eating. He didn't seem to require anything but for Arthur to just sit there. It didn't take long for Merlin to eat the stew, he put the bowl down and reached for the water skin. Automatically Arthur picked the bowl up, lifting himself up to get to his feet.
"Leave it," Merlin said. "It won't hurt to wait to be washed."
The inclination of Merlin's head instructed Arthur to sit down again. Which he did. Arthur shifted his position, sliding sideways so he could rest his backside on the ground, rather than on his heels, but he kept his legs tucked up, and he propped one shoulder against the tree root for support. Merlin glanced at him.
"Are you tired?"
"No, My Lord," Arthur said, and then corrected himself slightly. "Yes, but I don't think I will be able to sleep, and I ache a little, from the riding."
Arthur waited again, as Merlin's gaze drifted off to view the forest. Behind them the camp lay encased in the darkness, the fires and torches sending flickering shadows across the tents and the people moving quietly around.
"Do you need anything else My Lord?" Arthur asked, rather confused as to why he had been told to sit down. He wasn't used to inactivity, although quite often he longed to be able to just sit down and relax.
"Not really, but I don't think that I should have just myself for company. And anyone else will probably irritate me."
Arthur didn't know if that was a complement or not. Probably Merlin knew that Arthur would sit there and be quiet. So Arthur did. He sat and looked around at the dark forest, just making out the trees and brush that surrounded them.
"You were with Cenred a year?" Merlin suddenly asked. Arthur glanced up. Merlin had settled a little further back against the trunk, lifting one foot to rest on the root and prop his elbow on his knee. Arthur nodded, jumping as an owl hooted somewhere in the forest. The only other sound appeared to be the low crackle of the camp fires.
"A little more, he took possession of me just as winter fell."
Merlin processed that. It was now a year on, just mid-way through spring. "Where from?"
"Lord Godfrey, he lived on the border of Mercia. Cenred invaded and destroyed the estate, and he took me with him."
Merlin raised his eyebrows. "I remember the incident. How did Lord Godfrey acquire you?"
"His brother-in-law owed a debt. Lord Godfrey said he would pay it in exchange for me. His brother-in-law lives in King Olaf's kingdom. He didn't have much choice."
"Didn't Olaf offer to pay the debt?"
"I don't know. I just got taken."
"What was Godfrey like, towards you?"
Arthur shrugged, that dismissive gesture that indicated it didn't mean much to him.
"He didn't pay much attention. As far as I could tell he had fallen out of favour with Bayard, after the winter Lord Godfrey planned to take to me to the Mercian court."
"Ah. I've heard that Bayard is rather fond of you."
Arthur looked away from him. Merlin could see the tension in his shoulders, the prince's hands tightening on the trailing material of the wool coat. The word 'fond' Merlin could only use as a euphemism. There had been enough rumours over Arthur's transfer around the kingdoms as to what people thought of him.
"Yes, My Lord," Arthur's voice no more than a whisper as he responded to the comment.
"You have no desire to return to his custody?" Merlin asked. Arthur's head rose a fraction, his hair glinting in the nearby firelight.
"It's not for me to say, My Lord." Arthur said, his voice returning to calm neutrality, not wanting, Merlin guessed, to give anything further away. Arthur couldn't have any idea what Merlin would do with him. Merlin didn't feel entirely sure himself. Arthur's head had lowered again, and Merlin chose not to press the issue. He didn't particularly feel like talking anymore. Instead he stared out into the darkness. Merlin heard Arthur exhale gently and realised he had settled down even further, resting his back against the tree root that Merlin sat on.
Merlin did truly wonder what Arthur thought of his life. He knew there wouldn't be much point in asking, Arthur's answers would be neutral, placating and he would avoid telling him the truth. He had only known Merlin for two days, Arthur wouldn't trust him. That would probably take a little time.
That thought caused Merlin to blink in surprise. His subconscious, it appeared, had already decided that he was keeping Arthur. All things considered Merlin didn't think having a slave tagging along was an ideal scenario for him. His father would probably like to hold the leverage over the kings but Merlin found a slight measure of distaste stirring inside him. Merlin understood why the kings had banded to take revenge on Uther. He had sometimes hardly bothered to assess the situation before killing someone. Merlin knew that. His mother had suffered at Uther's hands. He had only been nine at the time, and it had affected him but on the flip side, Merlin couldn't entirely grasp the point of taking it out on Arthur. Not even when the prince was a child, and certainly not now when the whole issue remained lost on him. The Great Purge had ended sixteen years ago. It seemed pointless to Merlin to hold onto the memories now.
Arthur jumped as something stepped on a branch, close to them, just on their left. Merlin inclined his head, spotting the glittering eyes as something skulked out from the bushes.
"It's just a fox, there," Merlin said to ease Arthur's tension as he shifted nervously.
Both of them stared at the creature as it paused, nose twitching as it sidled forward. It stopped, ears pricked up as it sensed them and then stared at the camp behind them. A moment later the animals darted away, streaking through the trees, lost from sight the moment it ran into the shadows. Merlin caught another brief glance as the moonlight caught the animal's fur. Then it had gone, and both men settled down again.
Merlin lost track of time as they sat there, only looking up when Percival walked over.
"Everything all right Merlin?"
"Fine, just not feeling very sociable."
Percival raised his eyebrows and glanced briefly at Arthur, sat at Merlin's feet, head dropped, his chin almost resting on his chest, as it rose and fell at a steady pace.
"His company is undemanding," Merlin added.
"Shall I take him back to his tent?" Percival asked. Arthur didn't react, sleeping peacefully.
"No, leave him. I'm not going to be sleeping tonight anyway. I'll look after him."
Percival nodded. "Goodnight then."
"Night," Merlin replied, his voice distant, as if he had already retreated from the conversation. He glanced down at Arthur, who despite his thoughts that he wouldn't sleep had drifted off. Merlin saw no point in disturbing him. He most certainly didn't feel tired. He settled back deeper against the trunk and fixed his gaze on Arthur's peaceful countenance.
XxxxxxxxxxxxX
The following day Merlin broke camp, sending people off in all directions. His force was only small, made up of just over one hundred men, but they seemed, to Arthur, highly formidable when fighting.
Merlin himself ended up travelling with fifty of his fighting force, including Percival and a recuperating Lancelot travelling in one of the carts. This time Arthur made sure his own little pony was ready, along with Merlin's pack horse. Merlin didn't comment, which Arthur took as approval.
As they travelled Arthur stayed close to Merlin and when they camped he carefully kept as close to Merlin's tent as possible. By the third day of travelling he started to realise that his fears were unfounded, and he wondered if that had been the point of the conversation that he had seen Percival having with Maleagant. He received stares, and comments occasionally, but always when his master and his closest knight were out of earshot.
On the fourth day Merlin turned the convoy and called a halt. A little way into the trees Arthur could see some sort of camp already set up. For a moment Arthur presumed the group to be more of Merlin's men. However, a small group of people walked through the trees, made up of four men and four women. They headed towards Merlin without any fear. Merlin dismounted, which Arthur took as a hint and he slid off the little mare. He was getting a little more elegant with the action, but he still ached from riding everyday.
Arthur turned and waited, taking the reins of Merlin's horse as well as holding his own mare. The mare turned to start grooming the bigger horse's neck, which caused the animal's lower lip to start wiggling in a mildly comical fashion. Arthur suppressed a smirk at their antics and turned to watch the scene in front of him. Nobody had actually spoken, although Merlin seemed to be staring at the man in front of him with intensity. Arthur watched, glancing in Percival's direction for guidance but the big knight looked relaxed and at ease with the scene in front of him. Arthur turned back to watch Merlin, and leant back a fraction as one of the other men shifted his eyes to look at Arthur. Arthur dropped his eyes, aware though that the man still stared at him, eyeing him with interest, but also in a slightly detached manner.
Eventually Merlin broke the silence.
"Aglain, it's good to see you."
"We heard stories, of Cenred pressing further in."
"Nothing to worry about now," Merlin said. "It's dealt with."
Aglain looked a fraction pained by that answer, knowing what Merlin had done.
"You are welcome to camp, and we will share what we have."
"Thank you," Merlin said. "We may not be long. I still need to catch up with my father. And we will help provide."
"Thank you. How is Lord Balinor?" Aglain asked.
"Well enough," Merlin said. He turned again. "Bring the horses Arthur."
The mention of his name caused Aglain to turn and look in his direction. Thankfully Arthur could concentrate on shifting his grip on both sets of reins to lead the animals. He felt aware of the man's gaze on him, and the other Druid's staring at him with open interest. Arthur sensed, however, that there was no malicious intent.
He walked the horses forward, fairly grateful that Percival stayed close by his side, also preparing to follow in Merlin's wake. He caught the words as the druid spoke to Merlin in a low tone.
"You took the Lost Prince of Camelot?"
"He was in Cenred's camp when I came upon them."
Arthur tried not to look while they talked about him. And the conversation seemed to end there, but the silence as people walked felt odd. Arthur watched, as Merlin and Aglain glanced at each other, the druid's gaze sometimes moving to Arthur. As it did so for the fifth time Merlin spoke before anything could be said.
"We'll make camp here. Arthur, you'll need to help Lancelot."
"Yes, My Lord."
Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, Arthur headed off to do as he was told.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Merlin appeared to be kept very busy for the rest of the day. Arthur set the camp up, and Percival helped him install Lancelot in the tent. Then Arthur went through his usual routine of tidying, cleaning and then cooking, since Percival had been dropping less than subtle hints at Arthur.
So absorbed in heating the soup and chopping some vegetables that had been provided he didn't notice the light pressure on his boot, until it moved up to his arm.
"Hello," Arthur said to the small kitten. The kitten purred, nudged his arm again while pawing at his boot. Obligingly Arthur scratched the little beast's ears, the purring increased in volume and the yellow eyes closed in ecstasy. Then the little pink nose inclined towards the cooking pot. Arthur hadn't as yet put all the meat in, thinking that perhaps leaving some spare might be a good idea. Percival would likely want to eat later, and Arthur didn't know what time Merlin would return. Picking up a small sliver he offered it to the cat, which it ate while still purring loudly. Then the little tortoiseshell face looked up at him again.
"You want some more?" Arthur asked offering a few more scraps. The kitten ate them with enthusiasm, looked up at Arthur again and decided he was clearly worthwhile of more attention and proceeded to clamber into his lap, setting on his thighs and curling up, butting her head against his torso as she turned around and then settled.
Arthur petted her head again and then went back to what he was doing. Once he had finished adding the vegetables and a little more meat he put the lid on the pot to let it cook through. Then he looked back down at the kitten.
"Where did you come from anyway?" Arthur asked. He looked up. Just through the trees, in a little sheltered area he could see the druid camp, and several women moving around the communal cooking area. Arthur bit on his lip and looked around. There was no one else to ask about the ownership of the little beast. Arthur chewed his lower lip for a moment, wondering what to do. The best thing to do would be to take it back.
Very carefully he gathered the still purring animal up in his arms and getting up, carried it through the trees. He held on tightly for a moment but the kitten showed no sign of wanted to get away. Arthur negotiated the slight incline and walked towards the fire. No one noticed him for a moment, but then one of the women looked up.
"Excuse me," Arthur said, trying not to feel nervous. "I just wondered if this belonged to anyone. I found… it… walking around and…"
The woman straightened up and looked at the kitten carefully cradled in Arthur's arms.
"That's where you got to!" she said to the cat, then she looked up at Arthur. "She's Aaliah's, we had wondered where she had gone."
Arthur hoped to just pass the kitten over but the woman turned her head, she said nothing but Arthur frowned as he watched a small girl of about eight come running. She slowed as she ran around the cooking area, holding out her arms.
"Smudge!"
Arthur guessed the kitten's name was Smudge. He carefully moved his arms so he could hand the cat over, keeping himself at arm's length from the little girl as she gathered her kitten up. Arthur felt his heart start to pound, he didn't like being around children. The only ones he knew were the children of nobles, and they had full licence to torment him. No one stopped them, no one had since the time, when he was no more than eight years old and he had accidentally bumped into a young girl while carrying some heavy armour for his master. He had knocked the girl down, by nothing more than sheer accident, but the girl's father had thought fit to beat Arthur close to unconsciousness. As he had curled up on the floor Arthur had seen the people standing around watching, but not one of them had stepped forward to stop the man, while his twelve year old daughter also screamed her rage at Arthur.
He felt himself start to shiver a little. They could accuse him of trying to steal the animal, or of hurting her. Not that he would do such a thing but from his experience what he did and what people saw in him seemed to be so different.
"What do you say Aaliah?" the woman said. Arthur kept his eyes on the cat, now purring in her owner's arms.
"Thank you," the little girl piped. "For looking after her."
Arthur blinked, "I think she just smelt the soup, I gave her some meat, and some soup."
Aaliah tilted her head, pressing her ear to the kitten's head. After a moment she said.
"Smudge says thank you."
Arthur's throat had constricted too tightly for him to answer. But his head turned as he realised Merlin and the others were returning.
"I have to go." Arthur stumbled away rushing back, but he turned around to see Aaliah heading away, cradling Smudge and prattling on to the little kitten. Arthur felt the tension in his chest ease and then tighten again. He had never been able to have anything like that. The little girl ran to her friends, still holding the kitten. Arthur felt a stirring of something he didn't often feel; it was better never to.
He felt jealous. He had never been able to play, the children of the noble families had reviled him, they still did, knowing they could abuse him and get away with it. He had just worked, and watched them as they played together.
Arthur suppressed the feeling as it rose. But he knew how he felt.
He felt lonely.