CM I hadn't realised it had been that long. Here's the next chapter, I hurried up and finished it.

Time passed and they stayed in the tent. Meals appeared, which they ate, the chamber pot got taken away and returned. Merlin eventually dressed himself in the trousers and attempted to salvage his own. The rest of that day and then another passed before dawn on the third day was crudely interrupted by six men entering the tents, two of them holding coils of rope.

Barak smirked at them, and nodded at one man who moved forward carefully, eyeing Arthur as he stepped towards Merlin, going down on one knee to unlock the shackles around Merlin's ankles. Once they were free the bandit stepped back, getting out of Arthur's range as he started to stand up.

"Face the wall, and put your hands behind your backs," Barak ordered.

"It's not a wall," Merlin announced peevishly, and Arthur had to move quickly, grabbing Merlin's collar and hauling him up, to stop him being kicked.

"We need to dress. You should have warned us that we needed to be ready."

Barak looked ready to object to that but Arthur's glare quelled the men around his rival. He put the shirt over Merlin's head and put his arms through the sleeves. Merlin hissed with pain as the material touched the skin of his back. He exhaled as Arthur shrugged his jacket on.

"Can you get me into my armour?" Arthur asked in a low tone, for Merlin's ears only. Merlin nodded.

"I need my armour on!" Arthur announced in an entirely different voice, for the benefit of the crowd he used the demanding tone that Merlin was quite used to hearing from Arthur, when he wanted things done. Merlin lowered his head in deference, and to hide his smirk. Arthur was good, he could be really good. It often made Merlin wondered, how much of Arthur's reputation as an arrogant bully was nothing more than a front.

"Yes, Sire."

Merlin proved he was made of the same stern stuff as Arthur. Arthur had known it from the first day he had met Merlin. He always reminded himself of those facts. Merlin would always be rude, tell him off, tell him when he needed to do something. Arthur would have rather died than tell Merlin how much he relied on him, but he hoped in the desperate situations that Merlin understood how it was.

He did know and Merlin figured that Arthur knew.

It was not easy for Merlin to do it. His back was still tight and painful and pulling on every part of his body but he laboriously went through the full motions. The bandit's could have hurried them up but no one seemed to dare to move, they all watched with fascination as Merlin struggled around, aided by Arthur's movement, to put on the prince's armour onto him. Neither of them was that phased by the audience. At tournaments it was common enough that Arthur stood outside for the final part of Merlin dressing him. The chain mail, arm guards, sword belt, sword and helmet. It was almost a tourist attraction in Camelot. To see the prince, in his armour, his servant fussing around him, who often felt a little flustered under the stares.

The state of Merlin's back made for the show this time. Everyone watching knew how badly he had been damaged, but he moved with utter resolution in his eyes and every time Arthur shifted to help him he was glared at. Merlin was doing this, all on is own, he was not about to look feeble in front of any of them.

Finally Merlin got to the last stage and kneeling down put Arthur's belt around his waist. He felt a little bit lost as he slowly stood up, aided by Arthur's hand on his side. Arthur hadn't been wearing his helmet and his weapons had been taken from him. At that moment Arthur did one last thing, he yanked on the bandage holding the splint for his fingers and pulled the whole lot off.

"Gloves, Merlin," Arthur said.

Merlin looked around in confusion, wondering where the hell they had gone. He found one, but the other seemed to have vanished, until one of the bandits stepped forward and picked it up from where it had been partially hidden by the blankets. He handed it to Merlin without a word.

"Thank you," Merlin said, flipping the glove over, realising why it was in such a peculiar place. His teeth marks were still embedded into the leather. Merlin glanced at it and then looked up at Arthur, meeting a set of very steely blue eyes. Merlin looked down, and put Arthur's right hand into the relevant glove, and then worked on the left. There was only the minute tensing of Arthur's jaw, and the narrowing of his eyes that offered any hint to the pain of the procedure. Merlin privately wondered why Arthur was bothering with his gloves, but he didn't question it. Instead he just got Arthur ready. If the prince wanted his gloves then that was the end of that. Merlin just hoped he wasn't planning anything to prattish.

"Are you two finished?" Barak snarled. "Turn around."

Merlin's eyes widened, but he contained the yelp that rose in his throat as he realised it was Arthur who had pulled him from several sets of grappling hands and turned Merlin around, spinning on his heel at the same time. Merlin gasped as his wrists were grabbed and yanked behind his back, rope roughly wrapped around them, pulling on his arms as they were bound up. Judging by the movement of Arthur's shoulder, as Merlin caught glimpses out of the corner of his eye, he was being put through the same procedure.

Arthur turned to glance at Merlin, who yelped as the cloth bag was pulled over his head and the prince wasn't surprised when seconds later his own vision was impaired the same way. As his arms were taken firmly and he was led from the tent he felt a momentary ripple of panic. He couldn't see Merlin, they could do anything now. Except there was the sound of scuffling from behind him, and a thud and a yip from Merlin. There was more scuffling sounds as Merlin was pulled onto his feet.

"Let's keep them moving."

The walk out of the camp was just as disorientating as their arrival. Although as they left the tent they moved to the west side of the camp, where Arthur had spotted an escape route. He did his best to keep his feet under him as he walked, but it was hard going through the forest, unable to see. And as Arthur had mild trouble, Merlin seemed to be having a terrible time. Even through the sound of his own breathing within the bag, Arthur could hear the scuffing and thuds as Merlin was pulled along behind him. Arthur couldn't help but roll his eyes at Merlin's clumsiness.

But after a while Arthur wondered if there was more to it. Merlin was bad, but there was no way he could be that bad. Behind him, Arthur could hear Merlin's uncoordinated attempts to walk, and the panting and swearing of the two men dealing with him. And hearing him meant that Arthur knew Merlin was behind him.

"Merlin!" he snapped in his exasperated tone. The scuffling lessened in intensity. But after a while, and another thud and loud yelp, Arthur eased himself to a halt. The two men leading him didn't try to drag him forward. Their grip stayed firm but they made no attempt to be rough with him. In fact they were being almost polite.

"Are you all right, Merlin?"

"This would be easier without the bag," Merlin's voice announced. "And it stinks of garlic."

"Shut up," Barak's voice rumbled and there was the sound of a slap, and Merlin yelped again.

"Hey!" Arthur snapped, jerking back as the bag was pulled from his head. He eyed Barak with distain, but the other man just smiled, and moved past him to Merlin, who was sat on the ground. The two men who had let him drop pulled him up and took the bag off his head. Merlin blinked, screwing up his eyes and he looked around, his shoulders relaxing as he spotted Arthur.

He tensed again as Barak moved closer to him. The two men held Merlin tightly in place, and as they felt him tense, the two men holding Arthur intensified their grip. The rest of the accompanying group, eight in all, clustered closer, moving around Arthur. Merlin reared back, but there was nowhere to go as Barak slipped a loop of rope around Merlin's neck, jerking it hard.

"Leave him alone!" Arthur yelled. Barak looked at him and just chuckled, checking the knot on the loop to make sure it hadn't pulled on Merlin's throat. Merlin's eyes were wide, watching nervously as Barak backed up a step and pulled out the length of rope he was holding, the end of which was now around Merlin's neck. Neither he nor Arthur had any idea of what he was about to do next.

Both of them focused on the movement of Barak's hands as he wound the rope around to form another loop. Then taking the length below that he nodded at Merlin's captors, who let him go and Barak yanked Merlin forward. Since he had enough warning, Barak was making quite a display of this moment, Merlin stepped with the pull without mishap. It also reassured him that the rope around his neck was not designed to choke him.

However, Arthur looked like he was about to choke when Barak stepped towards him and slid the noose over his head. Barak tugged the trailing length of rope that remained and slid his fingers into the noose to check the fit. Arthur gave a low angry growl. Merlin grimaced at the look on Arthur's face. If Arthur ever got free, and on a level playing field with Barak, the bandit would not be in for a good time.

Arthur's eyes flickered to Merlin, who felt a shred of embarrassment at the situation, even thought there was no way to really avoid it.

Merlin did realise that this little humiliation was nothing to directly do with him. He was just part of it. Unwillingly participating but it was him that Arthur was now roped to like a slave, or a criminal. Arthur was neither of those things, and he was arrogant enough that this would sting. Barak backed up, holding the end of the rope in his hand, a smirk almost warping his features. No doubt he was going to be the one to have the pleasure of leading them along. By the gleam in his eye, Merlin guessed that it was going to be enjoyed by the large domineering bandit. The man really needed to get out more, Merlin told himself.

"Where's I'lian?" Merlin asked, thinking that the bandit leader wouldn't stand for this. Barak smirked at him, wound up the excess of rope into one hand and said.

"He's busy making sure the meeting area is ready, and making sure the king stands by his word.

"He's the king, of course he does," Arthur snapped, he lurched back against the tug as Barak jerked the rope. He wound it up tighter around his fist.

"I'm sure. Don't worry, I'lian trusts me to get you there safely. We're getting a good sum for you, my pretty prince."

Arthur gave another rumbling growl to indicate his anger. Some of the bandits watched the confrontation warily. Barak's eyes moved around, taking in the current mood. He stepped back away from Arthur and relaxed his grip on the rope, but he pulled lightly to get Arthur to step forward. Merlin followed before the rope between himself and Arthur could pull taut. The rest of the bandits moved into position around them. Merlin watched Arthur twist his wrists in the ropes binding him, in the hope of trying to get free. Looking at the ropes, Merlin guessed unless he intervene they were restrained for the duration.

"Come on, then," Barak said. "We have a way to go. We wouldn't want to make your knights worry by being late."

Merlin sighed, following along where Arthur was led. If Arthur got loose, Barak was a dead man. The situation could get a little messy from there, so Merlin decided for the time being, and for Arthur's own safety, to do nothing except let Barak lead them wherever he wanted them to go.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

The rage was like a white-hot stone in Arthur's chest. He was just glad the heat was not making it's way up to his face. The last thing he wanted to do was blush, in front of this man, who was determined to humiliate him. Trapping him in an arena, and making him fight had not done the trick. He had been trained to fight from the moment he could stand up. His father had been very insistent on that, and Arthur had liked doing things that his father approved of, it seemed to be the only time his father showed him any affection.

He could sense Merlin behind him, seemingly relaxed, or resigned to it. But Merlin was a servant, he knew his place, most of the time. Only now and again did he really forget himself.

Arthur's jaw clenched as Barak tugged again and Arthur tensed to prevent the jerk affecting Merlin, who would undoubtedly stumble. And if Merlin fell Arthur would go down with him, which was probably another of Barak's little torments. Although, Arthur noted, Merlin wasn't having much trouble walking even though he was restrained. It was a sudden major improvement, which again reinforced Arthur's theory that Merlin had been doing it on purpose. He could hear Merlin panting a little but with the rope around his neck Arthur knew it would be hard to turn around and check on him without causing himself, or Merlin to fall.

"Are you all right, Merlin?" Arthur asked.

"Fine," Merlin replied, sounding like he was talking through gritted teeth. He hadn't moved around much over the last two days or so, now he was forced to, it couldn't be doing him much good, but he appeared to be determinedly carrying on. Barak gave another tug, which Arthur braced for, his shoulders throbbing as he resisted. He was going to be sore by the end of this walk.

And it seemed to be an oddly long one. There was no discernable change in direction but Arthur was convinced they were not actually travelling any distance. The large oak tree they were just passing he was fairly certain was a landmark he had seen before, although it was a little hard to tell. They appeared to be passing it on the other side, a greater distance away from it previously and heading in the other direction. He had been trying to spot significant features in the hope of being able to backtrack and find the camp, with a group of knights in tow.

However, it was probably something that I'lian had planned for, which was why they were slowly traversing through the forest, and moving around the same stretch of ground. Whichmeant Arthur was never going to be able to follow it back, or try and work out a direct route through. And as much as he knew Barak was enjoying dragging them around like dogs, Arthur got the feeling he wasn't doing it for this length of time for his own amusement. As the man in question stopped for the second time since they started Arthur halted, Merlin almost bumped into him.

"Water them," Barak ordered the men. The men pulled out waterskins so they could give their prisoners a drink, and take some themselves. Arthur took his second opportunity to turn and check Merlin over.

He didn't look very good, he was pale, his eyes dull and face shining with sweat. One of the men went to Arthur first, still wary of him even though he was restrained, which did something for Arthur's ego, certainly enough for him to say.

"Give some to Merlin first."

The bandit didn't argue, Merlin almost did and then thought better of it, either because he didn't want to argue with Arthur in front of the bandits, or the fact that he suddenly decided he needed a drink. He swallowed several gulps of water greedily, and he licked at the droplets that trickled down his chin. Arthur took several swallows, a little more elegantly than Merlin, and it only took one level glance for the bandit to give Merlin a little more.

The rest stop was only momentary and then started off again. A drink appeared to have perked Merlin up, because he broke the monotony of the walk by moaning.

"Couldn't you have picked a ransom spot that was a bit nearer?"

"No," Barak said. "And have you try and track our camp, I hardly think so."

"Couldn't we have travelled on horseback?" Merlin then asked.

"We can't all be rich nobles who travel on horses."

"I'm a servant, I travel on a horse," Merlin pointed out.

"Aren't you special?" Barak snapped sarcastically.

"Not really," Merlin said at the same time as Arthur announced. "Yes, he is."

"Am I?" Merlin asked.

"You're the personal manservant to the Crown Prince of Camelot," Arthur snarled at him. "Which means you are also in training to be the personal manservant of the King, if you manage to survive that long."

"And if you do," Merlin retorted.

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur huffed. Merlin pouted, looking ready to carry on arguing until Barak turned to assess him.

"Gag the 'personal manservant' if he says anything else."

Merlin shut up, Arthur glared at Barak and the walk carried on.