Chapter two
Arthur woke up with a start. Gasping for air, he started to reach for his chest only to realise both his hands were immobile. Slowly gaining control over his breathing, his vision became clearer. Although his chest felt like a herd of cows had been trampling all over it. He was certain it would be one major bruise, although he couldn't remember being in a fight?
For a moment he wondered where he was. It almost felt to him as if he was floating in water. In a way it felt calm, soothing even, but it was also really cold. It was the oddest sensation, he concluded but then it came crashing into him... The images of dark druids, fallen knights and intense pain. He tried to veer up, his hands who had actually been lying on his stomach, swaying in mid air. But it was like getting out of water, his limbs reacted heavy, sluggishly and he couldn't even raise his head. What on earth was going on? He blinked, trying to get his bearings.
"Arthur," a familiar voice let out in relief, close to his left side. "Are you alright?"
"Merlin?" His voice sounded unnatural, even to his own ears.
"Stay calm, you'll be fine."
Arthur tried to sit up again, somewhat slower to see where he was, to locate Merlin, but to no avail. His head felt heavy, like it was pulled down. And all he could see was a grey sky above, as if he was lying on the ground. In fact, he was lying down on something soft, or wasn't he?
"I am 'not' fine!" He bit back at Merlin, at least he hoped he did, between clenched teeth. The way his body was bobbing up and down like on air was unnatural, to say the least. And all he could see was the bloody sky and Merlin's head now and again, worried blue eyes scanning him.
"You need to relax."
"I am floating in mid air, for goodness sake and you tell me to relax," Arthur burst out, and damn the consequences to the pain in his chest. "What kind of dangerous magic is this?"
Merlin's head disappeared and was replaced by the familiar dark face of the druid who had attacked them. Who had rendered him unconscious, unable to fight, unable to protect his knights, his servant. Where were the knights anyway? Were they in the same position as he was?
The druid had removed his hood, a smile was playing on his lips. Not a dark sneer of a smile, but almost like a genuine one. Had he been dreaming the part of being attacked by them? There were so many questions burning in Arthur's mind, it was like a jumbled mess of thoughts.
"We do not want you to attack us and as you were unconscious, this is the easiest way to travel." The Druid stated, without a hint of irony or menace in his voice. Why was he so friendly all of a sudden?
"I'm awake, you can put me down."
"I don't think so."
"Where are my knights, and where did Merlin go?"
"Merlin?"
"My servant."
"Ah," The druid answered. "He's safe and walking right behind us. And to keep us all safe, it's best you stay right where you are, for now."
Arthur didn't like to feel helpless, he didn't like it at all. What he hated with all his heart though were the thoughts of someone doing any harm to his friends, or his men. "Let me speak to my servant."
"Later."
"Now!" Arthur made sure his voice carried even though his heart throbbed in his chest like crazy. If Merlin was indeed walking behind them, he would hear him clearly. "And what have you done with my knights?"
"Why would you care, he's only your servant, and they are only your knights."
Arthur wanted to yell in frustration, but he could keep himself in check, not wanting to let the man see his true feelings. Emotions were never to be shown to your enemies, ever. And Arthur was a master in getting a grip on his, in every circumstance. Even of the magical kind. He would find out about his knights, his friends, later. He just hoped they were safe.
"Then tell me who you are and what you want?"
"My name is Kildare, I am the one you speak to, or rather the one you listen to. You are our prisoner Prince Arthur Pendragon. You and your servant. We wish you no further harm, but we want justice to be done."
"Justice, what justice?" Arthur tried to stay calm, but he felt himself getting worked up by this man. Who was he to take him and Merlin prisoner. A coward for sure, scared of letting him walk on his own. This floating around business made him nauseated. All he wanted right now was to stand on his own two feet, and push his sword, the one he'd lost by the looks of it,
under the man's chin.
"Your father is an evil man, Pendragon. He needs to be taught a lesson."
"Holding me hostage doesn't do you any favours." The dark face was out of sight for a moment, while he tried to turn his head to follow the man. But his head seemed to be held by these invisible hands, probably part of the spell. Arthur sniffed, loud. "And I thought you wouldn't do us harm?"
"That's correct."
The voice was right next to his left ear and if he hadn't been imprisoned like he was, he would have jumped. This druid, Kill There, or whatever his name was, had the uncanny gift of terrifying Arthur, even though he would never admit this to anyone. No one terrified Prince Arthur, even while he silently wished he would be able to move away from Kildare and run. It was a strange, deep fright, and all Arthur could blame for it was magic. Dark magic, no doubt. There was something about this druid that made his blood crawl. "Than what do you want?"
Kildare didn't answer, but instead he started to walk away from him. It only left the grey sky and patches of branches and leaves to look up to. At least he could see the sky, as staring into fog might have been truly depressing. A part of Arthur was relieved the man had left, but another demanded answers even though he doubted he would get them.
"Not far to go."
The druid's voice reached his ears from a distance and he could feel them pick up their pace. Arthur wished he could see where they were actually going. It felt like going uphill, but he couldn't be certain. If Merlin was still walking behind him, he probably should try and ask. It was always a good idea to get to know the lay of the land when you were in enemy hands.
"Merlin?"
"Arthur?"
"No talking." Came the harsh reply from someone who didn't sound familiar. How large was this group anyway? He had to ask Merlin, just had to. Always access the situation, the people, the surroundings, it was what he'd been taught countless times.
"How many druids?" Arthur called out, hoping Merlin was still there.
"Twenty, but I'm not allowed to talk." Came the answer, which made Arthur grin despite his worries. Whatever happened, Merlin would support him, just by being himself.
"I said, no talking." The harsh voice replied, and Arthur heard the muffled sound of someone's fist coming into contact with the back of someone's head. He knew that sound very well, because he often slapped Merlin on the head to make him shut up. This druid seemed to have the same idea, although Arthur used to do it in good fun, unlike this man.
"Ow, you hit me." Came Merlin's indignant response.
"I'll do it again if you don't shut up."
After this, Arthur thought it was best to stop asking questions. He didn't want Merlin to get into more trouble because of all his questions. He would probably get the chance to see their destination soon anyway. And maybe find an opportunity to get away.
When he finally fell onto the ground, bumping his head in the process, he knew the magic they used was gone and he should get up and show them a piece of his mind. Even without his sword, Arthur could fight and he would. Of course he also knew he probably had no chance against these magical folks. They would hang him in mid air again if he as much as tried to hurt one of them. This didn't mean he couldn't at least try and jump up to show them he was someone they shouldn't underestimate.
But before he could jump up, and he really wanted to but after lying down for so long his legs needed a little more time to cooperate, two pair of strong hands grabbed his arms and dragged him to his knees. The upwards motion almost made him throw up, but he defiantly raised his head to face whoever there was to face.
What he saw in front of him took his breath away. They were on a square of an old castle. Well, more of a ruin than a real castle. Two of the once tall round towers were still standing, while the other two had crumbled down and were overgrown with vegetation, mostly moss, as nothing else would grow in these isolated cold lands. The square's once beautiful black and white marble floor was chipped and battered, while one giant dark ominous cloud was gathered above a large tree in the centre.
Arthur had never seen a tree like it before. It swayed lightly from left to right, while there was no noticeable breeze in the square. And it gave him chills, right down his spine. Even more so when the druids started to chant something obscure, while they slowly made their way to the tree. They stopped approaching at quite some distance. Their heads were bowed while they stood there in a circle. Only the two holding him down on his knees stayed put.
Finally he also noticed Merlin in front of him. The druid, Kildare was standing right next to him, and it seemed like Merlin was rooted to the spot, although Arthur couldn't see his face. From his whole stance he could guess Merlin was as much in awe with the sight of the tree as he was. What on earth was this place, and why did they bring them here?
"These are the ruins of Meden, a once majestic castle," Kildare stated loudly, answering Arthur's question. "We, as the Arn Ree-ocht Fane live here as outcasts. People with magic are banned from the lands, are killed for who they are and what they believe. The ruins give us what we need to survive. The magical tree is our protector, it's highly regarded and it should be honoured."
Arthur frowned, trying to make sense of what this druid was actually saying. But to be honest, he had no clue...
It was the thick ominous tree in the square of this old ruin which had immediately caught Merlin's attention. The tree's dark branches were woven in an irregular pattern, reaching up while they were growing around each other like vines, but also bending down again and moving back into the earth like it was gripping through the solid marble of the square. This tree was very much alive. An ancient darkness spread from its rough bark and the air around it smelled like death. There was no sunlight touching this tree. It was like the sun had avoided it for a very long time.
Merlin couldn't help but choke, his breath caught in his throat while he gazed at the clearly visible dark stains that filled the air around it. A soft sinister whisper filled his mind, a promise of pain, even death and magic so dark it numbed his senses, even from this far away.
He was vaguely aware of a voice from right beside him. It was Kildare, his voice adding to Merlin's feel of dread and pain. All he wanted to do was turn away and run, although it felt like he wouldn't be able to move, even if he wanted to. His breath came in short gasps, tears made his eyes water and his vision had become somewhat blurry, and not just because of those tears.
"We know it sucks away a person's magical abilities." Kildare's face was so close to his ear it almost made Merlin jump, but he froze instead when the man's hand gripped his wrist so tightly it made him bite his lip. "This is the tree of Idad. It possesses dark magic so powerful, not even the most mighty warlock can resist it. It will be able to teach you and test you."
What had he been saying before the teaching part? This tree could take away people's magic? Merlin swallowed while it felt like a large fist was wrapping itself around his lungs instead of his wrists, and he couldn't breathe at all. Kildare knew about his magic of course. He knew his true name, and had said he wanted to teach him. Why would the tree take away magic while in the meantime it would teach? It didn't make any sense. And did the man suspect Arthur not knowing about his magic? Were they going to expose his secret?
Merlin wasn't sure what made him more afraid. The idea of Arthur finding out about him, or the tree radiating so much darkness it made his insides hurt. All he knew was he wanted to get away from this place. He wanted to use his magic to escape, and who cared about the consequences. A shudder went through him when he, again, became aware of the druid next to him and his instinctive reaction was to pull away his wrist, trying to get loose.
"Let him go." Arthur's voice penetrated his senses from somewhere behind them. A sharp confident voice that grounded him for a moment. It would have been helpful if Arthur wasn't on his knees and held firmly in place by two of Kildare's men. It made Merlin feel proud though. Arthur wouldn't give up, ever. "Let him go, he's just a servant."
"No, this is something which needs to be done." Kildare calmly stated and started to pull Merlin forward, clearly heading for the tree. The grip on his wrist intensified, but it was nothing compared to the darkness trying to reach out to him, like invisible tentacles beckoning him to join them in a deathly grip. And Kildare didn't stop, not even when Merlin tried to pause their movement by flat out falling to the ground. The man just grabbed his arms, pulled him up with ease and started to drag him on. Without using his magic he was no match for this tall strong man. He had to...
"No!" Merlin couldn't help a whimper from escaping him. He hated feeling like this. If he would use his magic, Arthur would see, would know. What was he supposed to do? It was the ever present dilemma, but a pressing matter at this moment. If he didn't get away, the tree...
Kildare did one step back, turning fast in a way that the man ended up behind him, and he suddenly pushed him in the back with enough force to make Merlin stumble forward, almost falling to his knees. Before he could recover, one thick dark branch from the tree had snatched his arm pulling him towards its thick trunk and it immediately spread a terrible sharp stinging sensation through his entire body.
He registered hitting the trunk, the branches grabbing his body. But the pain was so all consuming, he couldn't breathe, couldn't think and definitely couldn't get away. It felt like his whole being was being drained from his very own soul, his magic pulsating, trying to escape but in no way a match for this ancient darkness.
There was a piercing scream in his ears, and one more. It seemed to go on forever and ever. Why wasn't he losing consciousness already? It was there, right in front of him, a welcoming hole he could crawl into and forget his utter misery.
"Merlin?"
Arthur was furious. No, he was beyond furious. There were no words to describe his state of mind. If he wouldn't be locked up in a stinky dense dungeon tied to the wall with thick ropes around both wrists, he would have demolished anything in his way. The anger spread its way through all his muscles, and he was shaking his arms in frustration.
He had no idea what actually happened in the square. Well, he had seen that crazy druid guy, Kildare, drag Merlin towards the ancient tree and when the tree had grabbed his young friend something had happened to him Arthur couldn't explain. All he knew was it had been horrifying to witness. Merlin had been in extreme pain, convulsing and crying out, those parts were very clear. He could still hear those agonising screams vibrate through his mind until the young man had finally lost consciousness.
He; a prince and best knight of Camelot should have stopped it, he should have done something. Damn, he hated feeling useless, and the persistent thought came to him again and again, almost like a mantra in his head. If that druid showed his face in here, he would personally make sure the man wouldn't leave this place alive. No one treated and hurt his servant, his friend, like that. No one.
Arthur didn't understand why a tree could even cause so much pain. Yes, it had looked like a scary dark tree, a very scary one, nothing more until it had reached out to grab Merlin, which made Arthur instantly think of magic. These were druids after all, he should have known. A magical dangerous tree, but still just a tree. Nothing there to suggest it would inflict pain on anyone. But Merlin's whole stance had been one full of fright, just registering it. His servant had always been the more perceptive one of them, even though it pained Arthur to admit. So what was it he knew, or felt and Arthur couldn't? And why?
Why had Kildare pushed Merlin towards this tree, and why not him? What game were they playing, and what did they actually want from him? All these questions made his head hurt. If they wanted to have killed the prince of Camelot, they would probably have done so already. Just to get back at his father's reign against sorcerers and magic. His father was proven right once more. Magic was dangerous, and sorcerers could not be trusted.
Letting out a loud curse, he stretched his feet as far as he could to try and touch Merlin's leg. The tip of his boot reached the other man's knee, but he couldn't stretch out far enough to actually kick it. And only a swift kick would probably pull his friend back to the land of the living.
"Merlin, damn it come on, wake up you idiot!"
The only response he got was a soft groan, barely noticeable.
"Merlin!"
What if something was seriously wrong with Merlin, and he would die? Arthur swallowed, not wanting to go along this path. He was going to be alright, they both were. No one ever managed to keep Prince Arthur locked in a cell for long, he had a reputation to live up to.
The ropes were cutting his wrists while he pulled and pulled some more. If he could only find something sharp on this cold dirty floor. But even if he did, how would he transfer it to his hands? Tight muscles in his arms started to burn, but he didn't want to give up. Instead of pulling, he started to wriggle one hand. Maybe he could slip out of the rope this way? It was worth a try. Or maybe he should preserve his energy and wait until someone came to see them?
The door to their cell wasn't a fully closed door. It had bars, just like the ones in Camelot. But as far as Arthur could see there were no guards in the dim lighted corridor. No one to watch them. They probably thought it wasn't needed because they were tied as well as locked up. They weren't going anywhere soon. If he pulled himself free from these ropes, how would he open the door?
Gazing at Merlin once more, he breathed in slowly. He was going to get them out of this place, it was all he wanted to believe, no, had to believe in right now. There were no other options. Ropes or not, locked door or not, an unconscious friend or not!
"Merlin, wake up, time to leave, come on."
Seeing Merlin in such a state, Arthur suddenly realised how much he missed the servant's clever remarks, his cheeky grin, his lack of protocol. Merlin was a brave man, always there on dangerous quests like it was nothing. Whatever had happened in the past, they had always walked away from it, unharmed. Well, most of the time. Arthur needed to stay strong here, believe in their strength or things could turn out way differently. Fighting something you couldn't fathom, like magic, was almost impossible. But these druids were still people, and people had flaws.
Pushing down the urge to scream, he heard footsteps in the corridor. There was a corner up ahead so he couldn't see who was coming, but he strained his ears to listen to how many were on their way. Maybe they were finally sending in some guards? Or maybe someone would bring them food? The thought of food made Arthur realise he was really hungry. His stomach felt tight, like in a knot, and he had to force himself to concentrate on the footsteps instead.
Torches coming into their corridor blinded him momentarily. The only torch, a small one in the corridor near their cell had not given off much light, so his eyes had to become accustomed to the onslaught of more light at first. He blinked when the door was opened and at least three people walked in.
Through watery eyes Arthur noticed an elderly man in front, and two other druids. Squinting he saw these were the same who'd been holding him down in the square. Druid guards. The older man wore no hood, had short curly grey hair and a short beard and even in the semi darkness and light of the torches he could see the man had a kind face. Not that it meant anything of course. It wasn't very friendly to be thrown into a dark cell, with an obviously injured friend.
He was still furious about what had happened to Merlin. Someone would have to pay. If it meant this old man with his bushy grey brows, so be it. He didn't care, as long as this was his chance to get out of here, or at least get some help for Merlin. These were druids, not monsters he convinced himself, but it didn't work.
"Prince Arthur Pendragon?"
"What do you want, can't you see my friend here needs help?" He came right to the point and put as much cold authority in his tone of voice as possible. He had a good teacher, none other than his father. Even the older council members trembled at his voice sometimes.
The man didn't seem intimidated though. At least there was no sign of discomfort on his face, not even a trace of doubt. Compassion, yes. How strange. "I have come to offer my help."
"Oh, you have now, have you?"
"My name is Vortigern. I'm a physician, I can help your friend."
"I thought you came to tell us we could go home."
"I am truly sorry, but this is not up to me."
He felt sorry? Carefully observing the man who looked from him to Merlin and back again, Arthur wondered who this man was. A physician, yes, a druid, yes... A sorcerer, probably. But a man who also had a heart? Who felt sorry? A puppet in a larger play perhaps? Someone who could be played and convinced what he was doing wasn't the right course of action?
As much as Arthur wanted to tell this man to go to hell, he knew this might be their opportunity to get out of this place. A physician, a healer. All he had to do was confront the man with what they were doing to Merlin, and he would have won half the game already. He hoped.
"So, you can help my friend?"
"I thought he was your servant?"
"Merlin is my friend, now can you?"
"Yes, Prince Arthur."
"Then why are you wasting your time talking to me?"
A slight trace of surprise appeared on the old man's face, just for a moment. Then he turned towards Merlin, bend over and put one hand on the young man's forehead and his other hand traced Merlin's neckline, no doubt trying to find the beating of his heart. Arthur had seen Gaius do this with many of his patients in the past and he said a silent prayer, hoping Merlin was alright.
"Well?" Arthur couldn't help but let his worry seep through in the urgent question.
"You care for him." Vortigern didn't turn to face him, didn't even ask, merely stated a fact which was more than a bit unnerving. These druids felt emotions like none other could, Arthur had experienced it before. It was no use in hiding his true intentions or emotions to some of them, even though he would certainly try.
"Yes, I do."
Vortigern didn't answer or look at him. He merely turned to the two guards near the door. "I need to examine this young man in my chambers." He stated with an air of authority in his voice, while addressing them.
"But..." One of them started.
"You heard what Kildare said." The authority was heightened.
Without further ado, the two druid guards carefully untied Merlin's wrists, then they took a good hold under his arms and carried him out of their cell. There was no reaction from Merlin at all, making Arthur swallow away more of his worries and concentrate on the man in front of him. There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask, but the moment he opened his mouth the physician had turned around to leave.
"Will he be..." Arthur managed, not wanting to ask again.
"He will be alright." Vortigern answered this time before he quickly walked out of the cell, closing the door behind him. Then he suddenly turned and stared straight at him through the bars of the door. The look was intense as if he was observing Arthur's reactions. "I'll make sure he's alright."
"Thank you."
When the group had turned the corner and he was alone, Arthur let out a deep breath, trying to relax tense muscles. They had taken Merlin to heal him. At least it was what he was hoping for. The old man has sounded sincere, but he was a man working for dangerous sorcerers. He bit his lip in anger, his mind going back to the agonising thought he should have been able to help Merlin, and he'd failed. But he wouldn't fail him again.
It was time to get out of here...
TBC