The moment Merlin crossed the bridge, he thought perhaps he had come to the wrong place. The Perilous Lands were suppose to be just that, perilous. However, as he made it to the other side of the bridge, he paused in mid-step and stared at the view before him.
What was once barrien lands for as far as the eye could see, new growth had taken place. Green grass had sprouted out. Fallen trees had moss growing on them and new trees were springing up. The sound of a creek nearby could be heard and the faint sounds of night life met his ears as well.
This once infertile land was now blooming with life.
How had this happened?
The last time he had been here it had looked like something out of a nightmare...
Something had happened. Was it the war with Morgana that had changed the lands? Perhaps it was the fact that magic seemed to be in harmony with the world around it finally? Whatever the case, something had changed the lands and now Merlin wasn't quite sure where to start.
He glanced over his shoulder, thinking perhaps walking in the daylight would be for the best, but, all of a sudden, he heard voices off to the side. He snapped around and saw torches lit and quickly crouched down, setting his jaw as he listened closely. He didn't know there was anyone around here! Then again, he hadn't known the lands had changed. Of course there would be people over here now, taking advantage of the new lands.
You need a place to hide, Merlin told himself.
Sure, he could fight these people off - whoever they were - but he'd rather not draw attention to himself. There were many out there who'd love to get their hands on him because of who and what he was. So, bringing attention to himself wouldn't be the best idea.
Slowly, Merlin rose up and began backing away.
Perhaps he could get back over the bridge and to Grettir's camp site before anyone noticed he was there.
"Come on! Pick up your feet you useless pigs!"
CRACK!
Merlin's heart slammed against his chest at the sound of a whip being lashed out. Following it was the cry of a woman, then that was when he realized that there were more sounds. Chains. Feet shuffling. Men laughing. The sound of someone shoving.
Slave traders.
Merlin's brow creased.
Another scream filled the air as the whip came down again and it was like someone struck Merlin's heart. The scream was so pain filled. So helpless. His brain told him to forget about it. That it was none of his business and he should just get somewhere safe. But his heart wouldn't listen. Those were people. Human beings.
Freya's face went through his mind.
How she had been treated. Locked up in a cage, tormented and beaten.
Could he really leave those people to be treated the same way?
'This is none of your business! Just go! Turn away from it all and just head out before you're found and your little quest turns into a disaster!' his mind shouted.
Merlin silenced the voice in his head.
If he could fight Morgana and help save Camelot, then he sure as hell could fight off some idiotic slave traders and save some helpless people.
Setting his jaw, Merlin made up his mind and hurriedly made his way out onto what looked like a path. The group was heading farther into the Perilous Lands, so as he came out he found himself behind them. No one seemed to know he was there.
Good. It would give him the element of surprise.
"You will let those people go. Now." Merlin said confidently as he stood there.
His voice carried through the growing darkness and the group of people came to hault as a man at the front glared back at them. "Who said that?" he roared.
Merlin stood his ground and watched as the man came down the line until his eyes finally fell on him. Their gazes locked. "I did." Merlin replied firmly. "Now, do as I say and let these people go."
The man looked him over, then scoffed. "I don't think so."
"If you do not do as I say, I will have no choice but to make you let them go." Merlin peered at him, though his eyes caught sight of a young woman, her hands shackled, shaking her head at him. Perhaps she was scared for him, thinking that he was biting off more than he could chew?
"I don't think you can command much of me, little man." the slave trader chuckled. "You obviously did not think this through."
"You have no idea who I am. It would be wise for you to listen to me and let these people go." Merlin continued, chosing to ignore how naive the man was.
The slave trader just smirked. "I'll have fun with you." he said, "come morning, you'll know the consequences of messing with my business." he then gave a nod of his head.
Merlin didn't understand until it was too late.
The woman had been shaking her head at him because she was trying to warn him to stop talking.
He didn't have control of the situation like he thought he had.
It didn't click until just then and that was when he felt something hard come down against his head. A second later, everything went dark and he collapsed to the ground with a groan. From what he had learned from Arthur, one did not have the luxery of laying there in pain after being hit by a enemy. He needed to get up and try to fight. As he tried to do so, however, he was hit once more and that was when Merlin's body went limp against the ground and he knew no more.
The slave trader smirked devilishly at the other who had struck Merlin in the head. "Shackle him and toss him over the horse. In the morning we'll give him a proper welcome into the group." with that he turned and made his way back to the front of the line, "Let's move out!"
The morning light was cruel to Merlin the next day.
His head was throbbing in pain and the morning light was making it worse, causing him to have a horrible headache. He tried to open his eyes, but every time he tried, the pain just worsened, so, after a while he just decided to lay there and deal with it for the time being.
It was probably for the best as well.
He remembered what had happened and he knew those slave traders were just waiting for him to wake up in order to teach him a lesson for messing with them. He felt like a fool for not realizing there was someone behind him. He should have made sure. He should have been more careful. Now here he was, shackled, laying on God knows where, and he was wounded - slightly.
He could feel himself getting better and he could use his magic to get himself free, but, it'd have to be at the right time. He didn't want to risk a battle with the slave traders that might get the innocent people around him harmed.
If Arthur knew what kind of trouble he had gotten himself into, he would be furious.
Suddenly, Merlin felt a hand on his face and he flinched, eyes springing open, shackled hands reaching out and clasping onto the throat of the person above him. As his eyes focused, however, he found the shaky, emerald, eyes of a young woman staring back down at him. Instantly he loosened his grip and went to say he was sorry, but she put her hand over his mouth and shook her head before motioned to the side.
Merlin looked over and saw that the slave traders were asleep still.
From the looks of things, they had drank themselves to sleep last night.
They probably wouldn't be waking for some time - not unless something woke them.
Merlin looked back at the woman and regconized her from the night before. She had been the one who had tried to warn him. Slowly her hand slipped from his mouth and she brought a wet rag to his forehead. As she pressed it against his skin he winced and realized he was wounded more than he had thought.
"I thought you would never wake." she whispered softly to him, "they hit you hard."
She didn't need to tell him that. He was still feeling the affects of it. Instead of talking about his humiliating ordeal with the slave traders, however, he changed the subject rather quickly, "...I can get us free." Merlin whispered to her.
The woman nodded, lowering her voice more. "I know."
His brow creased. "You do?"
"You're Emyrs." the woman tended to his forehead for a moment or two before bringing her hand away and staring down at him, "I would know you from anywhere. I was in Camelot the day King Arthur legalized the use of magic."
A loud snort came from one of the slave traders and they both froze some.
Thankfully, the man was just turning over to get in a more comfortable position.
"Do you plan on setting us all free?" the woman asked, turning her attention back to Merlin.
He gave a nod of his head.
"And the slave traders?"
His gaze darkened. "I'll deal with them. How many are there?"
"Six. Three over there near the fire - and there are three more on watch. The Wyverns are still rampant in this part of the land."
Merlin sighed heavily. "Wonderful." he muttered, mainly to himself, then glanced down at his shackles. "Abricaþ benda." he hissed. A moment later the shackles came undone, clanking to the ground rather loudly. He held his breath and he and the woman glanced over at the sleeping slave traders. They didn't even stir though. He gave a breath of relief and looked back at the woman, motioning for her to move so he could get to her shackles on her ankles. She gave a nod and silently shifted in the dirt. A moment later, Merlin repeated the spell and her shackles came undone as well.
"How do we free the others?" she asked.
Glancing down the line at the sleeping prisoners, Merlin took a breath and held out his hand towards them. "Abricaþ benda." he said once more, this time stronger. Instantly, the sound of dozens of shackles coming undone was heard, but thankfully it was silent and the slave traders remained silent and still.
"I will take care of the slave traders. You need to wake the others and run, as fast as you can." Merlin said, holding the woman's gaze. "Do you understand?"
She gave a nod. "You'll come after, won't you?"
"Of course. Now go."
The woman looked unsure, but she gave a firm nod of her head in return and turned back to the prisoners, shaking them awake, one by one, whispering for them to stay quiet and to move into some tall grass that was nearby. Merlin watched to make sure that they would do as she said. Once he saw that they were complying, he turned back to the slave traders, his dark gaze falling back onto them.
It was time to teach these men the consequences of messing with him.