Chapter 3

When the two guards had laid the patient onto his long work table, Vortigern commanded them to leave the room. The two men hesitated for a moment, looking at each other. These were caring men but Vortigern knew their loyalty to Kildare. He also knew they were very aware he was Kildare's trusted physician and friend.

"You can play guard in front of the door, now go!"

"Are you sure it's safe?" One of them asked.

"Look at him. He's not going to harm anyone, now is he?"

They observed his patient for a moment, the famous warlock of legend. It was hard to believe this young, vulnerable-looking man was indeed Emrys, and Vortigern could see he wasn't the only one thinking it. Both the guards bowed in silent agreement and headed out the door.

"You will be alright, Emrys." He dabbed a cloth into a bucket of cool water and applied it to his patient's forehead while carefully monitoring the rapid eye movements which clearly indicated the young warlock was involved in his own private battle. It was what the tree inflicted and, even though Vortigern had never experienced this himself, he had heard about it. The tree being used like this on a living soul was against everything he stood for. It made him squirm on the inside, wondering if this had really been necessary.

He knew Emrys would recover from his ordeal or he would certainly have tried to stop it from happening. He wouldn't have stood much of a chance to change Kildare's mind about it, though. The man was extremely stubborn, and this was an event which would shape the future if they carried it out well.

The tree of Idad was the last remaining evidence of a dark magic which had destroyed this once beautiful castle and its people. As a young child, Vortigern had listened to the story of the powerful sorcerer Idad who had been exiled because of his love for the daughter of Lord Meden. The tree had been magically created by Idad for her, and it had been the most wonderful tree in the land, giving all kinds of different fruits to the people and teaching them how to live in happiness and love. When Idad was sent away he swore revenge and his spell changed the tree into a twisted version of itself. It was still teaching the people, but it corrupted their souls. Idad's regret was great when he saw what had happened, but he couldn't stop his own creation. No one, not even Idad himself, survived in the end. Only the tree was left.

Kildare believed in the earlier positive teachings of the tree and, as he was their beloved leader, he had been certain its influence would not corrupt him in any way. He would be able to use the tree to protect them and help them teach. It was what they had all wanted to believe as they went in search of the ruins of Meden.

It hadn't been this simple. Vortigern had seen Kildare change but, as he believed in his friend, he went along in the man's daring plan to shape their future. To teach the almighty Emrys, the warlock named in druid legends. The tree would help- even though it scared Vortigern enough to make his heart freeze every time he saw it.

Yes, Emrys would recover physically. He wasn't as certain about the mental side of things. Repressing someone's magic, even if it meant teaching him certain things, was not to be taken lightly. It made a shudder go down his spine. Were they wrong in doing this? No, he shouldn't think that. He had to stay positive. Kildare knew what he was doing.

"You will be fine." Did he say it to reassure his patient, or himself? He lay a hand on the boy's chest where his heart was beating fast, willing it to calm down. Willing the boy to open his eyes. He was not only a physician, he was also a sorcerer himself - though not a powerful one. But he was good at the magical art of healing and had specialised in it over the years travelling the five kingdoms, before they had come to this place. The ruins of Meden still felt like a holy place, though a dangerous one.

Vortigern often wondered if he'd made a mistake coming here, but Kildare had been so adamant this would be a place of beautiful power, a place where the druids would be safe. He had been right about this, but there always remained a little voice inside Vortigern, doubtful of his friend's power to withstand the tree.

Yes, Kildare had definitely changed. He still recognised his old friend underneath the harsh exterior, but he truly hoped the power of Emrys would make Kildare see the light again. Freedom and safety were all a man could hope for these days and he'd wanted them for a long time. To be safe, practice magic and healing, live in peace; no more running or hiding... If it meant living in a ruin, then so be it.

"Gaius?"

Vortigern froze when the soft voice reached his ears. The name was so very familiar it made him swallow as he gazed at the warlock, willing him to speak again. He held his breath for a moment, waiting. Had he actually heard the name of his former friend and colleague, or was it his imagination? His hearing wasn't getting much better with time passing. Gaius, how many men owned such a name?

The young warlock's body started to shake uncontrollably, his chest heaved and his arms thrashed wildly while he whimpered in distress. All Vortigern could do for now was hold his arms, softly pressing them down on the table until the movements lessened.

"Emrys?" Bending over, he spoke it in a barely-heard whisper near his patient's ear. Again he almost couldn't believe this boy was the most powerful sorcerer the world would ever know. Kildare was very certain about it- the man was a legend already- but he was young and vulnerable. Wasn't it his, Vortigern's task to aid him?

Kildare's plan of teaching the boy and showing him his true destiny had been exciting when he'd found out Emrys was living in Camelot, serving Uther's son no less. How was it even possible a warlock would want to take up such a position? It was all wrong. Emrys should live with his people, not jump whenever some pompous prince needed a bath.

Luring Emrys and his prince out of Camelot had been easy. It was common knowledge amongst the druid camps that the lady Morgana had vanished and Uther was searching for her like a mad man. It had been the mention of her name which brought out a search party, including Arthur and his servant.

Vortigern didn't want to remember the last time he'd been to Camelot. He would never set foot in the place again. The terrible memories of the Great Purge still lay heavy on his mind though he'd been fortunate enough to stay alive, to find his kin, to find Kildare. He really didn't want to think about Gaius and whether or not the man was still serving Uther - it hurt too much.

"Emrys?" He tried again, but there was only a soft groan from his patient. What was Emrys' common name? He had heard Prince Arthur say it, and maybe if he spoke it aloud there would be a chance to wake him?

Arthur Pendragon. Vortigern was actually rather surprised by the man. He was good at reading people and sometimes caught emotions from the non- magic folk, feelings buried deep inside this person's soul. Was this because of his magic, his druid heritage, or something else? He had no idea, but it was useful at times.

Prince Arthur seemed to care a great deal for his servant, past the point of simple friendship. It had temporarily stunned Vortigern while he was down in the dungeon. He had tried to avoid any more emotional reading of the prince. He was a prince, he hated magic, but he cared for Emrys?

Pendragon probably didn't know about Emrys and his magic. Of course, it was only logical. Magic was forbidden in Camelot on penalty of death; Emrys would have to keep his magic hidden. Removing him from Camelot had been a great plan. They had interfered just in time for Emrys to see the truth and be safe. He would never have to live a lie again. Kildare was right, even if the method was cruel.

The name 'Merlin' popped into his head and he lay a hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Merlin?"

"Gaius?"

There it was again. Gaius. There could be no doubt. Gaius was probably still living in Camelot and he knew Emrys in some way. In a close way, by the relieved tone in Emrys' voice. Gaius must be an important person to him, and this made Vortigern fear Gaius' reappearance in his life- even if it was only through Emrys.

"Open your eyes, Merlin." Vortigern didn't want to deceive Emrys, but if this was the only way to wake him up then so be it.

Slowly but surely eyelids were fluttering open, a tiny slit of blue became visible while Emrys joined the land of the living. It made Vortigern breathe a sigh of relief, anxiously awaiting the moment he would be recognisable.

It didn't take long.

"You're not, I thought you were, sorry, I..." The blue eyes in deep distress drifted open further until their gaze found his and a slow realisation could be seen on the young man's expressive face. It was like he relived his whole ordeal with the tree in a matter of silent moments, and Vortigern wondered to what conclusion he might come.

Emrys' eyes suddenly flew open completely and he pushed himself up on his elbows, frantically searching the room. "Arthur, where's Arthur?"

His magic was repressed and all he could think of was the prince of Camelot? Vortigern frowned at him, and again he was more than a little surprised. Did Emrys actually care as much for the prince as the prince did for him? "Arthur Pendragon is safe. No harm will come to him."

At this news the tension eased from Emrys' pale face before his eyes grew large, then closed in concentration.

"My magic," Emrys' breath came in short gasps as he tried to find the strength to sit up. "I can't reach it, it should be there, I know it's there but I can't... It's too far away." He stared at Vortigern, tears coming to his eyes, "the tree... its dark magic. What have you done..."

Vortigern wished he could tell the young warlock his magic was only suppressed, but he also knew Kildare would not be amused if he said anything to jeopardise their plan to let Emrys believe he couldn't use his magic. This way he could be taught freely without being a danger to them and himself.

The druids would be able to fully return his magic when the time was right, because it wasn't truly gone in the first place. There was a place where magic lost by dark powers, including the tree of Idad, could be retrieved. Every druid knew the story but Vortigern doubted young Emrys did- he needed to learn so many things.

Emrys could destroy them all if he so wished, so there had been no other choice than to use the tree. They had to use it to guide him regardless, and if Emrys found the right path with them, his magic would be returned instantly. Kildare had promised this; he wasn't a monster.

The little voice inside his head made him wonder why he was trying to convince himself about all of this once more. Did he feel guilty at all? He pushed these doubts away, for everyone's sake.

Carefully laying his hand on the boy's arm he sent him a look of sympathy. At least he hoped it came across that way - they had to gain his trust, not scare him off. After what had happened with the tree, Vortigern knew it wouldn't be easy, but maybe it helped that he knew Gaius.

"You can call me Vortigern. I am a physician." He started, avoiding the loss in Emrys' eyes."Gaius used to be a friend of mine."

"You know Gaius?" There was a tiny bit of hope in the soft voice that wavered, but only for a moment. There seemed to be more strength in this boy than Vortigern could have suspected.

"Yes," Vortigern answered. "Before the great purge we were very close. We both enjoyed the art of healing, and I often came to him or he to me for advice."

Weary eyes followed him when he moved away from the table and Emrys was pushing himself up on his elbows, arms visibly shaking. "Before the purge?"

"We lost contact."

"Gaius wouldn't want you to be part of this dark magic. If you were close, you should know this." The young man gasped, trying to find the energy to get up. "What you're doing is wrong. You're a physician; your job is to heal."

"My boy, you don't even know what we're trying to accomplish here." Vortigern repressed the urge to snort. Emrys has no idea how important he is and how important it would be to learn about every aspect of magic without having to fear for his life.

"You took it away, my magic, "the high-pitched tone made it clear to Vortigern Emrys was on the edge of losing his calm, "and don't call me 'my boy.' I'm not yours."

"All we want is for you to learn."

"After what you did to me?" There were tears in the boy's eyes as he laid one hand on his chest. "Do you know how much it hurts, right here, like a dark entity is penetrating your mind?"

"How does it feel?"

"Wha... What?" Confusion was written all over Emrys' features, and it slowly mixed with anger as he pushed himself up and off the table, almost toppling over when his legs hit the floor. "Are you insane?"

"The tree teaches, but you have to let it happen." Vortigern was adamant, surprised but not backing down. "This is the only way to teach you the true meaning of your magical abilities, to finally be able to use them in freedom without hesitation and fear."

"I can't reach my magic." Emrys stalked towards him, totally ignoring his explanation. There was fire in his eyes when he raised his hand, and Vortigern realised he was fortunate the boy wasn't able to use it against him. "I know it's there, so tell me how to get it back."

"You can't."

"You're lying."

"You need to rest."

"No!" A loud gasp accompanied the statement as Emrys' legs gave way and he crashed to his knees where he couldn't even muster the energy to look up at Vortigern anymore. Still, his soft voice reached the old man's very clearly. "Please, you have to help me."

Arthur hoped that no one was actually nearby to hear his grunts of frustration and pain. He'd been going at this for a while, but as there was no indication of time down here in the semi-darkness, he didn't exactly know how long. This time it would work; his right hand was almost half way out of its rope, while he wriggled it some more. His whole body was shaking, whether from fatigue, thirst, or hunger he didn't know but if he didn't get loose in the next moments he would need to sleep. Food and drink would be good, but as none had been brought, sleep would have to do.

Ah, for the love of Camelot.. Pull, Arthur, pull you dimwit.

He could hear Merlin's voice in his head, chattering away at him about how stupid he was.

How is it possible for a knight of Camelot to still be locked away in a stinking cell? You're a pompous ass, a disappointment to your father, your men, Morgana- to everyone, up to the birds in the trees. "Shut up." Arthur pulled and wiggled his hand until he could feel moisture dripping along his wrist. Blood, no doubt. Failure, fool... "Shut up, Merlin." He pulled, and pulled. You can't even free yourself, you're such a whining cabbage head. "Shut... UP!"

His hand slipped free, and he looked at it in wonder and surprise. He'd actually done it. But his high spirits fell when he realised it was only one hand and there was still a door if he managed to get loose. This was hopeless, but he had to admit he sometimes liked hopeless. He was at his best in situations like this. Failing wasn't an option.

Grinding his teeth, he started to undo the ropes around his other wrist. He pulled at the knots with trembling fingers, trying to get a hold and untangle it or at least pull it free from the wall. It felt like it took forever. It may well have.

No one came to see him, which was convenient but worrisome. He wasn't certain what had happened to Merlin, and even though he didn't want to think about it too much, he sure hoped the man would be alright. Perhaps he could ask if someone showed up to talk about the ransom they'd surely ask of his father.

A wave of anger washed over him once more while he pulled at the ropes, trying to stay patient but failing miserably. "Damn, stupid ropes, damn druids!"

A growl escaped his lips as he finally pulled himself free- a relative idea while still being locked in a cell. As he stood up on wobbly feet, shaking all over, Arthur knew he had a chance. No cell would keep him inside. All he needed was someone to open the door. Easy.

His arms were throbbing so violently it felt like someone was shaking them. He couldn't keep them still and he swallowed a couple of times, willing it to stop. He wiped the blood still seeping from raw wrists on his trousers while he peered into the corridor. His situation looked rather bleak, but definitely not as bad as Merlin's.

Stepping toward the door Arthur noticed something strange. From where he was standing it looked like the door was slightly ajar- which, of course, could be a trick of the light. There was only one way to find out. He slowly pushed a shaky hand against it and let out a startled gasp when the door swayed open.

This wasn't normal. Arthur stood frozen inside the cell, scanning his surroundings. No one would leave this door open, unless it was a trap and they were waiting for him to take one step outside before unleashing their magical fury on him. He knew all about sorcerers; sneaky bastards they were, always having their own nasty ways to make him comply. But to what?

Only one man had come to see them while he'd been locked up with Merlin- the old physician. But why on earth would the man want Arthur to get out of this cell? Or had he been convinced those ropes would keep him in place? No, there had to be a reason for it, and he wondered if he should take a chance and find out; find Merlin and get out of here. There was no way he would leave his friend behind. If the old man thought he would, he was wrong.

Arthur calmed himself by deeply breathing in and out. Then he stepped into the corridor and waited. Nothing happened. Nothing to even suggest this was a trap, but this didn't mean anything- a trap worked best when people were not expecting it. Arthur sure as hell would be keeping his eyes open for anything dangerous.

Step after step his heavy feet carried him away from the cell. It wasn't doing him any good to hesitate, and he would face anything coming his way no matter how weak he felt. If only the physician had brought in some food. Thinking about food made him feel terrible, so he quickly focused on the task at hand. Arthur knew he was Merlin's only hope to get out of here.

He would find him.

TBC