"Go!"

Merlin's words thundered in Arthur's mind as he eyed the Bastet with fear and trepidation. Out of pure instinct, he had reached to his side hoping to grasp the sword that was always there, but his hand had met nothing but empty air. That's when it had hit him; he had dropped the sword before diving in to the water!

He had broken one of the Knight's cardinal rules. Never, but never, leave your weapon behind.

"Leave me. I'm dead. I will be dead from this or Uther's wrath. Go while you have a chance."

Arthur scoffed, shaking his head at his friend. "You know me, Merlin, I never listen to you!" he shot back. Standing up he wasted little time in hoisting the more or less limp body of his friend onto his shoulder. The warlock was pretty light, it would make moving easier, but he would still have to contend with the beast nearby and that meant instead of running directly for his horse he would have to locate and retrieve his sword.

"Now as long as that Bastet doesn't attack we'll be fine…" he muttered under his breath as he left the shore.

The bastet charged straight towards Merlin and Arthur. She roared with each galloping stride. Within a foot of them, she stopped. Rearing back, the creature slashed at them. However, just before the beast struck Arthur's back or Merlin's scalp, it stopped. Lowering to the ground, she sniffed them, blowing her hot breath on them both.

Merlin squinted down at the beast. He looked in the eyes and smiled. In his heart he knew who it was and why she had spared them. "Thank you," he mouthed the creature.

Louder, the warlock said to the person who held him (he still wasn't sure who it was), "Go." Then, his body sagged as his eyes fluttered closed.

Arthur felt Merlin's body sag but he didn't know that the younger man was unconscious when he replied, "I am not leaving you here, Merlin!"

He never left anyone behind and he certainly wasn't going to start with his manservant, no matter what the dark haired man said. The creature had stopped; why Arthur didn't know. It was still dangerous and could choose to jump them at any moment but it did give him precious time to try and locate his sword.

Arthur scoured the bank, looking both left and right until he found the shiny weapon. Using his free hand he grabbed it, holding on to it tightly; ready to use it if he had to. He kept his eyes and ears open as he made his way to his horse. Reaching the animal Arthur slung Merlin's body on to the brown horse and then climbed up himself. "You are going to be alright Merlin…" The Prince murmured, spurring his horse towards Camelot.

Gaius met them as they reached the gates. He wore a severe expression that showed he was all authority and professionalism. The physician took Merlin's limp body from the horse. Noting the fever and pale complexion of his ward, he hissed a little. It was far too high. His coloring was much too pale.

Carrying the boy to his quarters, he ignored the curious people watching him. Once inside, Gaius closed the door, but only after Arthur had entered. Placing the warlock on the bed, he examined him.

"What happened? Why is he wet," asked Gaius after stripping the man from his wet clothes and putting him into warm and dry ones. The answer really didn't matter, but he still felt like asking about his wards wet condition.

Hurrying about, the physician gathered clean cloths and water as well as some water with willow bark. Dipping one of the pieces of fabric in the liquid, Gaius placed it on his forehead. Taking the medicine he dripped it under Merlin's tongue and set the bottle on the table beside him.

Staring at his ward, he saw the pain crease his fevered brow. Merlin's lips were turned downwards in a horrific grimace. The young man's chest heaved with each breath – it was surely a struggle. Picking up Merlin's wrist to check the boy's pulse, Gaius noticed a raised rash. Gently, the man placed the hand on the bed and patted the top of it.

"There is nothing I can do for him, sire. He is too far gone," whispered Gaius. "He has only a day I fear. Look at his wrist. The rash you see comes within three days of death. Judging by how it looks, he's already had it for a day, maybe more. I am sorry. There truly is nothing I can do."

XOXOXO

"Lancelot… Percival you did not have to come with me. I am fully capable of riding to Camelot by myself," said Hunith as she looked behind at the two young men riding behind her. "I am a stronger woman than I look. You know very well who my betrothed was and he was not an easy man to deal with."

"I know, Hunith. You need to remind me. It's not just your safety we are worried about, you are Merlin's mother after all, and we did promise to look after you. We want to see Merlin too! We want to wish him a proper happy birthday," Lancelot said with a smile.

"What a great surprise Merlin will have tomorrow. Waking up on his birthday and finding his mother visiting," Percival mused.

The ride had been easy and pleasant. The travelers thoroughly enjoyed the short trek - stories were told and good, but simple and hearty food was shared. None of them were aware of Merlin's condition.

Reaching the gates of Camelot, they dismount. Handing the reigns to a stable boy, who had come to meet them, Percival, Lancelot and Hunith head straight to Gaius's. The mother knocks and then opens the door. Something was wrong, it's obvious.

"Gaius, what's going on? What's happened to my son? I thought I told you to take care of him," demands Hunith as she strides forward. Kneeling beside the bed, the woman takes his hand and then looks at Gaius.

Lancelot and Percival survey the scene. In the five years Lancelot had known Merlin and the three Percival had known the young man, neither had seen him ill. The warlock didn't even seem to get a cold. Something was really wrong.

Arthur had his right hand over his mouth; his back to Gaius and Hunith as he stared at the wall. He just couldn't believe that after everything that he had gone through to get Merlin back to Camelot; to Gaius, that there was nothing the physician could do. Merlin was going to die. That thought caused the prince's heart to sink. He couldn't lose the boy; he felt a strange attachment to him that even he couldn't explain.

"I'm sorry Hunith. There is really nothing more I can do for Merlin. His condition is just too severe," Gaius said calmly already knowing that that sort of news was not what Hunith would want to hear. "He was poisoned and didn't receive the antidote."

"There's got to be something!" shouted the bereft mother. "You have to do something Gaius. Please, I beg of you. Don't let him die. He can't…not now and not for a very long time. He's just a child!"

"I have already done everything I can, Hunith. Maybe if he had gotten the antidote he could have survived this but it is too late now. I truly am sorry," Gaius replied.

Hunith bowed her head and pressed her forehead against Merlin's hand. She rocked a little as she murmured sweet nothings to her unconscious son. How long she stayed that way, Hunith didn't know, but it must've been awhile because when she looked up it was becoming light.

There had been a change. It was subtle and the less observant of people would've not even noticed. The air was stiller and quieter.

The woman stared at Merlin. He wasn't moving at all – even his chest was still. His face was lax. "Gaius! He's not breathing," she squeaked, making Percival and Lancelot stand from their place on a bench.

The physician immediately went over to Merlin and placed two fingers to the lad's neck and then placed his ear next to the boy's mouth. After a moment he simply looked up at Hunith and shook his head. "I am sorry...he's gone." Gaius said in a soft voice. There really was nothing he could do to bring Merlin back; the boy's body was far too weak and he knew of no way to restart the lad's heart.

Hunith's brow furrowed. "No," cried the woman. Tears poured down her face. "No! It can't be. Gaius, please…please."

Percival went over to Hunith and wrapped an arm around the woman's shoulders. She was practically like a mother to him. "Come Hunith. Let Gaius tend to him," Percival whispered in her ear. "There's nothing we can do. I'm sorry." Gently, he led her to the bench he'd just been sitting on and eased the mother onto it.

"One of you needs to inform Arthur," The physician said, looking at Percival and Lancelot. Arthur had left several hours earlier because his father had requested the prince's presence in the council chambers. Gaius knew that Arthur had wanted to be there but he also understood the prince's sense of duty.

"I shall go," said Lancelot. He dashed from the room as fast as he could. Unsure where the Prince would be, he headed towards the most logical place – the throne room, where meetings were often held. He knocked and when instructed to enter, Lancelot did. Seeing the King and Prince, he bowed.

"Sire, Prince Arthur, can I have a word? It is most important," he asked, swallowing. The man looked at Arthur as he waited for a reply.

Arthur looked tired and exhausted; wrinkled clothes, bloodshot red eyes and a slightly pale countenance. Still the prince nodded his head and led the knight to a corner of the throne room away from his father.

"What is it? Is it about Merlin?" Arthur asked. He studied Lancelot's face and the look in the man's eyes told the prince to expect the worst possible news. "He died...didn't he?" the prince asked, even though he hoped against hope that it wasn't true.

"Indeed, it is," Lancelot replied in a grave voice. "And indeed, he did. He has just passed from this world. Hunith was the first to notice something was not right. Gaius hasn't even prepared his body yet."

Lancelot looked out the window. It was raining. "I doubt that his funeral will be today. It is too wet," said the man.

Arthur sighed, rubbing at his face. He was so tired that he couldn't even grieve the way he wanted to. Under normal circumstances bodies would be burned as a sign of honor but Lancelot was right, it was raining and it was too wet outside, but the funeral still had to take place that day. Even now the body of his friend was starting to decompose and even though the prince didn't want to think of Merlin like that, he didn't want the warlock to start stinking up the castle either. "It will be today," Arthur said with a nod of his head, "he'll be buried in my tomb; a tomb fit for a king."