Beyond Recall

A/N: Thanks very much for the reviews! I'm back a lot sooner than expected due to the fact that I had a highly productive writing weekend! Managed over 8000 words and so I'm quite a few chapters ahead of myself. Soooo, I thought I might as well post again. This chapter hasn't been as thoroughly checked as usual, but hopefully there won't be too many typos.

Anyway, please let me know what you think!

Chapter 19

For several minutes, Merlin didn't move as an encasing panic spread over him and seeped through his skin. He could feel the desperation clawing its way through his chest until he found it difficult to breathe.

He doubled over, planting his hands on his knees as a way of steadying himself. He took deep breaths, closing his eyes as he did. He focussed all his attention on the steady in and out of his chest; he could hear the inhale and exhale of air loudly in the room and he allowed it to block out all of his thoughts until there was nothing left in his head.

With something verging on clarity now in his mind, Merlin moved over to the table and heavily sank down on the stool there. He put his elbows on the table and buried his head in his hands.

What could he do?

All his life he had protected his mother from everything; from the moment he understood that he was the man of the household, that it was his duty to look after her and be there for her. His father, whoever he was, had never been around and his mother had never mentioned him. At first, Merlin had struggled with that, struggled with who he was and where he had come from and why his mother had been left alone by someone who should have loved her. But when he had once voiced his anger at the man who had abandoned them, his mother had told him so fiercely, and with such conviction, that his father was a good man who would have stayed if he could, that Merlin had fallen silent. Since then, he hadn't asked anymore, but he had decided that his mother would always have someone to look after her.

Part of him wondered why he had come to Camelot, why he had gone against such a deeply engrained instinct to stay with her, but having read her letters -which were still scattered on the floor- he knew that she must have wanted him to go. She must have supported the decision otherwise, quite simply, he wouldn't be here. So maybe leaving her to go to Camelot had been acceptable, but nothing could take away his guilt that he had not gone and found her rather than staying in Cyathia. He clenched his fist together and squeezed his eyes closed: why had he let himself get so swept up in the life that Cyathia had supposedly been offering him? He had put it before everything else. His desperation to fit in, to be accepted, even to be admired, had convinced him that his mother would be fine without him, at least for now. Looking back, he had never known himself to be so selfish and so self absorbed. He had put his own happiness before that of others and now they were paying for it: Gaius, Arthur, Gwen, his mother.

He thought of her again, remembered her gentleness and compassion. She had never done anything to harm anyone. But now…now he was here and she was in trouble. And he could do nothing to help her. He would have to go through with his deception; no matter how much he felt like he shouldn't; no matter how much he believed he should be at Arthur's side, he could not risk his mother's life. And suddenly it really did feel like her life was in danger: in danger from Steven and from Tiden. Never before had Merlin really felt any genuine threat from the two of them. He had become wary of them; had been more measured in how he interacted and addressed them and –when it came to Steven- he hadn't ruled out the idea that the man would quite happily cause him a lot of physical harm, but he had never believed that they would go as far as to threaten someone's life.

But he had seen Steven's face, had heard the dark resolution in his voice. He would carry out his threat, which meant that Merlin was trapped as a spy in the very place he wanted to be a servant. But did that mean that once the talks had officially failed Merlin would be free from this obligation? He could promise not to expose Cyathia, could give his word that the kingdom would stay safe from Camelot's prejudice's, but would Tiden accept that, would he believe Merlin? Somehow, it seemed unlikely.

The implications of that threatened to thicken the walls of the prison that Merlin suddenly found himself in and so he refused to contemplate it. He raised his head and stared resolutely ahead. He could do this; he could see this through. He could shut out his sympathies for Arthur; he could stand by silently and wait out the end of the talks; he could pretend that he wasn't destroying his own dream in fuelling their demise. He would do as Tiden wanted.

But even as the bitter resolve entered him, he found his confusion rising. What did Tiden and Steven want from him? What more could they possibly need from him? Merlin had kept them informed of Arthur's fears over the talks, had given them –he now realised- everything they had needed to destroy Arthur in front of the other monarchs; they had known exactly how to back Arthur into a corner; exactly how to destroy his confidence, and all because of the information Merlin had given them. The fact was, he could leave Camelot right now and it wouldn't change anything. The talks were headed for disaster

So why did they still want him here?

From the other side of the room, a banging on the door made Merlin jump, and as the door flew open he jumped to his feet, expecting it to be Steven returning. So it was that when Gwaine caught sight of him standing up, one hand up in front of him and a fierce glare in his face, the knight's smile faded to be replaced instantly with a look of concern.

'Merlin? What's the matter?' He shut the door behind him and walked over to Merlin. Merlin quickly dropped his hand and forced his body to relax. He shook his head and plastered a smile on his face, but he knew it would look weak.

'You just surprised me,' he said, sitting back down. 'Did you want me?'

'You asked me to come and fill you in, remember: help you jog your memory,' Gwaine said with a frown. 'Merlin, what's wrong?'

'Nothing.'

Gwaine shook his head, moving until he was right in front of Merlin. His concern was clear.

'Don't forget, Merlin,' and there was something more forceful in his voice now, 'at the moment I know you better than you do. So what's wrong?'

Merlin shook his head. He was certain that informing one of Arthur's knights about Cyathia's plan would be a sure way to get his mother and Gaius killed very quickly. He forced a laugh out, but it seemed to stick in his throat.

'Really, Gwaine-'

'I'll go and ask Arthur then,' the man said, turning on his heel.

'No!' Merlin called, standing up again before he could stop himself. Gwaine looked at him, a grim victory in his face. He stayed still for several seconds, his expression making it clear that if Merlin didn't speak he would head up to Arthur.

Merlin took several moments to consider his options, but he realised that there weren't many. If Gwaine went and told Arthur that something was wrong, Merlin feared that the King would not let up until he found out what it was. It would most likely make him even more suspicious than he already was after Merlin's abrupt departure from the room earlier.

Could he make something up? But what could he possibly say that would explain his behaviour, which undoubtedly looked odd, especially to someone who apparently knew him as well as Gwaine did. But was the truth any better? He couldn't implicate Tiden; Gwaine would surely feel honour bound to tell Arthur, and that was Merlin's end of the bargain gone. But if he told the truth and laid all the blame on Steven then Gwaine would want to know why he was holding Merlin's mother and Gaius hostage. He would want to know exactly what they wanted Merlin for.

Unless…

Merlin looked up at Gwaine and considered all that he knew about the man, all that he had surmised about their past relationship. It was very little in all, but he guessed, and hoped, that he could get away with the next few words.

'Gwaine,' he began steadily. The knight waited patiently. 'I need your help.'

'You know I'll help you with anything.'

Merlin nodded. 'I'm realising that about a lot of people. But…' he sighed and gathered his resolve. '…I also need you to trust me.'

'Merlin, what is going on?'

'You must promise me that you won't tell Arthur,' Merlin continued and he could hear the pleading in his voice. Gwaine looked at him uncertainly. He had a feeling that in the past the man wouldn't have given a second thought to agreeing, but now he hesitated.

'Are you in trouble?' he asked instead.

'Promise me that you won't tell him, or anyone else,' Merlin repeated.

'Merlin-'

'Promise.'

'Fine,' Gwaine said with a sigh, 'but you better start telling me what the hell's going on.'

Merlin swallowed heavily and closed his eyes in relief. Knights of Camelot were bound by a certain unspoken code, and keeping promises were most definitely part of it.

'I need your help to find my mother.'

'What are you on about? She's in Ealdor.'

'No she's not,' Merlin said, taking another deep breath.

'What are you on about?'

'She and Gaius are being held hostage by someone from Cyathia.'

'What?'

'Their lives are in danger.'

'What?' Gwaine repeated, frowning at Merlin as if he'd gone mad.

'I know it sounds ridiculous-'

'Of course it does. Merlin, your mother sent a letter to Arthur.'

'I've looked at letters she sent me,' he said, gesturing to the papers scattered about the floor. 'It doesn't match the handwriting from the letter.'

'But why would someone take your mother hostage? Why…' but he tailed off and then slowly fixed his gaze on Merlin.

'What have you got yourself into, Merlin?' he asked, all his disbelief gone as he stepped closer.

'I can't tell you,' he said quickly shaking his head and refusing to meet Gwaine's gaze.

'Someone's blackmailing you?'

'It doesn't matter what they're doing, you just need to know that my mother and Gaius are in danger.'

'Merlin, what are they making you do?'

'It doesn't matter,' he said. 'You said you'd help me.'

Gwaine watched him for several seconds, his expression grim. He studied Merlin, searching him out, and Merlin knew the knight was trying to set his personal feelings aside and look at the situation as a knight of Camelot, not a friend of someone who could barely remember the last few years off his life. There was doubt on the man's face, uncertainty. A battle seemed to rage in him as if wanted desperately to believe, but couldn't quite bring himself to. Merlin realised that the knight was wondering whether he really could be trusted. The thought sent a pang of sorrow through him. No-one from his old life had mistrusted him; they had all accepted him back with no questions asked.

'Is Arthur in danger?' Gwaine said slowly, after a long pause.

'What? No!' Merlin said forcefully. 'You know I'd never put Arthur at risk.'

'I know that in the past you never would have done,' he replied quietly, but Merlin could see how he hated saying the words.

'I remember enough of my old life, Gwaine. I will not let any harm come to Arthur.'

'Then what can they possibly be asking you to do?'

Merlin shook his head desperately. 'Please, Gwaine; there isn't anyone else who can help me. I don't know what to do.'

'Alright,' the man agreed heavily, 'but I won't go against Arthur and I won't forsake my loyalty as knight.'

'I'd never ask you to.'

'In that case, tell me what you can.'

Merlin spent the next few minutes explaining as much as he possibly could to Gwaine. The only name he gave was Steven and Gwaine didn't ask about anyone else's involvement. The knight looked more and more uncomfortable as Merlin explained his rapidly forming theory about what could possibly have happened at Ealdor: that someone under Steven's command had beat Arthur's messenger to the village and then posed as a watchman of some sort, trying to keep visitors away from the supposed-illness that villages were suffering with.

'Well, I can find out for you,' Gwaine said as Merlin finished.

'What do you mean?'

'It was Elyan who took the message.'

'Elyan,' Merlin frowned. The name seemed familiar. 'The Queen's brother?' he ventured uncertainly.

'Yeah, he took the message; he brought the letter back. I'll go and get him.'

'We can't involve him; he's the Queen's brother. He'll tell her or Arthur.'

'We can trust him,' Gwaine replied, 'He will keep our confidence.'

Merlin hesitated, but in the end, he knew he had no choice. 'Very well. You can't bring him here though,' Merlin argued, but didn't elaborate on his hesitation; he somehow thought that mentioning his suspicions that Steven would be watching him was not a good way to make Gwaine feel any better about the situation. 'How about we meet in the stable in a few minutes?' he continued quickly. The man looked set to argue, but he eventually nodded.

'Alright. I'll be there.'

The door closed, leaving Merlin alone in the room once again. He wasn't entirely sure that this was the best course of action, but he wanted his mother out of Tiden's grasp, and not to mention the fact that as soon as she was, Merlin would be free of his obligations once again. The tension between himself and Tiden would meet a stalemate. The King was unlikely to expose Merlin as a sorcerer for fear that Merlin would expose him in return and bring Arthur's wrath down on him. Where that would leave Cyathia? Merlin didn't know, but he doubted it would come to that. As soon as Merlin's mother was safe, so was he.

He looked around the room and saw his mother's letters still caste about the floor. Quickly he bent down to pick them up, scooping them together and allowing his eyes to take in the messages of love and care that lay on them. He felt his eyes prickle with tears, but did nothing to hinder them; with a plan now in motion and his initial shock wearing off, Merlin found that sadness and desperation were all he had to focus on. And with them came tears that he couldn't help but let fall.

By the time he arrived at the stables, Merlin had managed to reign in his emotions to a point where he could nod cheerfully to passers-by who called to him and could even smile at the few that called him by name. He had walked quickly through the courtyard, allowing the sounds of clinking armour, friendly conversation and general bustle to fill his head so that he was not able to contemplate the darker thoughts that were vying for his attention.

The afternoon light was beginning to fade into evening and Merlin felt the chill of the night air creeping in. So much so that he couldn't help but shiver in his thin clothes; he wondered if that was entirely down to the coolness of the hour or whether his body was reacting to the emotional trauma that he had been through over the past hour. What with his mother, Arthur, Steven, Tiden and Gwaine, Merlin was hard pressed not to let his thoughts spin out of control.

Realising that he was beginning to sink back into the mire of fear, Merlin shook his head and focussed on his surroundings instead. The stables looked much the same as they had done every time he'd been to see Peter over the last few days, which had been frequently to ensure that the boy wasn't doing something that would later turn out to be stupid. All around, Cyathia's horses shuffled back and forth, but there were a couple of stalls that were empty. For a second, Merlin wondered if some of Steven's men had the other horses and were up to something else, but then he heard the click of hooves behind him and saw Peter leading two horses back to their stables.

'You're here early,' Peter grinned when he saw him. He quickly took the horses into their stables and fed them a few apples that he had in his pocket. 'I thought you had meetings and servanting to do.'

'They finished early.'

'How early? Don't you usually get grilled for information by the rat afterwards?' Merlin said nothing, which caused Peter to look over at him, his brow furrowed. 'Merlin?'

And that was all it took for Merlin to relay the story back to Peter. He told the boy everything, even mentioning his desire to serve Arthur in a genuine capacity. Up until now, he had avoided saying too much along those lines; he knew that Peter wanted him to go back to Cyathia and, before today, Merlin had still be relatively certain that he would. Still, Peter must have picked up on the change that Merlin had been going through over the past few days because at the mention of staying in Camelot, the boy didn't make loud, shocked objections; he simple studied the ground for several seconds, sadness and loneliness etching itself into his face, but above all he seemed to exude a sense of inevitability. It seemed that he had known it was coming before Merlin had.

Whatever his feelings on the decision, however, he pushed them aside, and his outrage at Steven's actions and threats were more than evident.

'I knew he was up to something,' he muttered. 'Poor excuse for a man. Power-hungry and deluded. And Tiden!' he added, his eyes going wide. 'A moral king who doesn't want to use magic for evil? Strange way of showing it!'

'Will you keep your voice down,' Merlin told him firmly, glancing around frantically, but there was no-one there. Peter did the same, looking around with fearful eyes; evidently he had forgotten exactly where they were.

'And James,' he added, his voice a whisper. 'So much for his friendship; he was playing you the whole time.'

'James?' Merlin asked. With a jolt he realised that he hadn't even thought about James; the man hadn't even crossed his mind in the last hour or so. Steven's threat had not made Merlin think of his mentor from Cyathia, and even now the notion of him been a part of this plan seemed absurd.

'Well, he's the King's advisor too,' Peter pointed out. 'It's not as if Tiden could do this without his knowledge.' Merlin shook his head.

'James can't be involved in this.'

'Why not? He's been part of the rest of it hasn't he? You said yourself that you passed on your information to him as well as Steven.'

'But…he seemed different somehow,' Merlin argued. 'When I spoke to him, he was always…I don't know. He'd hardly say anything.'

'He never says anything anyway.'

'But he wasn't like Steven. He took no pleasure from destroying the talks.'

'He just covers his emotions better than Steven.'

But Merlin shook his head. Although he hadn't seen much of James since they arrived in Camelot, he remembered clearly how the man had looked after him in Cyathia; how he had taught him about magic and encouraged him. He couldn't deny that the man did seem to have changed since the start of the talks, but that didn't mean he was in on the same plot.

'Well,' Peter ventured after a few moment's silence, 'either way, I don't think you should involve him in this plan.'

'I agree.' He was going to follow that up with another desperate defence of James, but sounds from outside drew his attention. A moment later, Gwaine appeared with one of the knights that Merlin recognised; he hadn't really said anything to this new knight however. His familiarity with him stemmed mostly from comments Gwen had made about her brother.

'I've filled him in,' Gwaine nodded towards Elyan as they approached. 'And no-one's been following us as far as I can tell.'

'You promise me that Arthur is in no danger,' Elyan asked, fixing Merlin with a stare. His tone was gentle enough, but there was a determination in his eyes.

'I promise. As I said to Gwaine, I would never do anything to harm Arthur.'

That was all it really took to placate Elyan and Merlin guessed that the man had already come to the decision to help, or else he wouldn't be here; he would be filling Arthur in on a few details that he was currently missing.

An uneasy silence followed, but Peter soon broke it.

'Don't you think coming up with a plan of some sort might be an idea?' he asked pointedly.

'Your friend's got a lot to say,' Gwaine said, raising an eyebrow in Peter's direction.

'What information do you need from me?' Elyan asked, stepping forward towards Merlin.

'I think that one of Steven's men got to Ealdor before you. Can you tell me what happened when you arrived?'

'The journey was straightforward. I arrived in the early morning the day after I set out –the day after you arrived in Camelot.'

'And did you speak to my mother or Gaius?' Merlin asked urgently.

'No. When I got within half a mile, I was met by an old man. He was turning people away from the village because of a sickness.' Movement from one of the other stables stopped all of them for a moment and Gwaine carefully ventured outside, but returned seconds later saying that it was just some of Gwynedd's stable hands

'So you didn't go to the village?' Merlin continued. He shook his head.

'The man went instead. He told me he would pass on the letter from Arthur. I saw no reason to doubt his word and he returned half an hour later with a response from your mother.'

'And that's all?'

'Yes.'

'Did you notice any other horse tracks on the floor?'

'Not that I recall, but I wasn't looking for them. There may have been.' Merlin nodded his thanks. Elyan's story did nothing to disprove his suspicions, but it also did nothing to corroborate them.

'And he didn't do anything else before you left?'

'No,' he sighed apologetically, 'I'm sorry Merlin. Nothing seemed amiss and-'

'How did you know he was old?' Peter interrupted. All of them turned to him.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean, how did you know he was old? Grey hair? Slow on his feet?'

'Well…' Elyan began, but he frowned. 'I just assumed,' he continued, almost to himself. He looked up, a new intensity in his eyes. 'I assumed he was old because he was stooped and his voice was frail, but I never saw his face. He was cloaked and hooded.'

'See!' Peter said triumphantly.

'See what?' Gwaine asked.

'It was Steven's man. He raced out of here as soon as that first meeting finished. He beat you there,' he said turning to Elyan, 'got rid of you with the letter…'

'…and then told my mother and Gaius that I was alive, convinced them he was sent by Arthur and then took them somewhere,' Merlin finished. 'There was never any sickness. It was a deception to keep you out of the village and then take my mother and Gaius.'

'One man to kidnap two people?' Elyan asked sceptically.

'But he wouldn't have had to.' Merlin pointed out. 'They'd have come willingly; they'd have used Gaius' horse and just followed him.'

'But they both know the way to Camelot.'

'That's easy,' Peter answered, 'just tell them there's a fallen branch on the road, or that one of the rivers has flooded, or that there have been sightings of wolves. Any of that would have worked. And they'd have been so desperate to see Merlin that they'd have done what he said. They'd have walked straight into a trap.'

'Gaius wouldn't have fallen for it,' Gwaine argued. 'Trust me; that man is shrewd.'

'Well obviously this time he wasn't,' Peter retorted. 'Anyway, that's beside the point. We need to work out where he took them.'

Merlin watched Gwaine and Elyan's expressions go from confusion to mild irritation as they looked at the stable hand; perhaps Peter was more of an acquired taste than Merlin had realised.

'Please,' Merlin said, cutting off any further tense exchanges. 'I don't know how to find them, but if either of you have any ideas.'

'I can go to Ealdor,' Gwaine suggested; 'At least then we can find out if the sickness is real, and if not I can ask when Gaius left. I won't be missed for a day or so; Elyan can cover for me, but there's no guarantee that anyone will know anything. If, as you suggest, they left of their own freewill, no-one will have thought twice.'

'But what then?' Elyan asked. 'Any tracks will have gone. The trail will be cold by now.'

Merlin felt his frustration mounting. Elyan was right; tracking was hard enough when there was only a few hours delay, and they had been in Camelot for well over a week now. At that thought, though, something else crossed his mind. He grasped at it desperately.

'If they're being kept prisoner, then someone must be taking them food and water.'

'Unless they have enough where they're being kept,' Elyan replied reluctantly.

'If they're being held prisoner, then I doubt they'll be given freedom enough to provide themselves with those things.' No-one said anything, but Merlin could see that the knights weren't convinced. Peter, too, stayed uncharacteristically silent. 'Well, we don't have anything else to go on,' Merlin told them firmly.

'Alright, it's a start,' Gwaine nodded. 'So if someone's bringing them food, then are they likely to be going from Camelot?'

'I don't know. Have you noticed anybody leaving?' Merlin asked turning to Peter.

'You told me not to spy on them,' he replied incredulously.

'I know. I don't mean that. I just mean have you seen anything unusual; people leaving at strange times? It might help us out.'

'Imagine how much more use I'd have been if you'd let me spy,' he retorted pointedly.

'Yes, I know,' Merlin sighed.

'Well lucky for you, I don't listen to what you say.' He grinned at Merlin.

'You've been watching them?'

'Yes.'

'Peter,' he said through clenched teeth.

'Well it's a good job I did, because now I can tell you that somebody has been going in and out of the stables every couple of days.'

'What?'

'They take a horse in the middle of the night and they're back by the early hours of the morning.'

'How do you know that?' Merlin asked, turning to face him fully and torn between the desire to shout at him for once again putting himself in a position to be a problem to Steven, and hugging him for being so reckless. At Merlin's question he walked around the corner, past where Zephyr's stall was. Partially hidden behind several crates, Merlin caught sight of what Peter was trying to show him. A pile of blankets and an old pillow were arranged there.

'You slept in here?' Merlin asked him in disbelief.

'Only for a few nights. I noticed that Torrent was worn out in the mornings; that he slept longer than the other horses. He had mud on his hooves so I knew someone must be taking him out.' He shrugged. 'I wanted to find out who.'

'But if you'd been seen?'

'Well I wasn't.'

'Who did you see?' Gwaine asked, cutting off the next reprimand that Merlin was going to throw at Peter. But as much as he wanted to tell the boy off for doing something so dangerous, he couldn't stop the gratitude that flowed from him at the devotion he seemed to have from him.

'It was one of Steven's men, but I don't know which one. All of them have been out and about in Camelot as much as each other so I'm not-'

'Wait.' Merlin interrupted. 'You've been watching them in Camelot as well?'

'Of course,' he nodded. 'And they're up to something,' he continued, seemingly unconcerned by the look Merlin was giving him. 'They're spending all their time with the soldiers. And not just Camelot's or Cyathia's, but from all the different kingdoms.'

'Which men are you talking about?' Elyan asked, stepping forward.

'I can't remember all their names,' he frowned. 'I think there's Thomas…' he looked over at Merlin for confirmation. Merlin couldn't remember ever hearing them referred to by their names, but that seemed familiar.' He nodded.

'Thomas and-'

'Joseph?' Gwaine interrupted.

'Yeah, I think so,' Peter replied. 'How do you know?'

'Because you're right; they're always around. Elex and John as well. I actually get on quite well with them,' he admitted reluctantly.

'You've been talking to them?' Merlin asked.

'As have I,' Elyan added. Merlin looked between the two of them and then back to Peter.

'See, I told you they were up to something.'

'Well what do they talk about?'

'Nothing really,' Gwaine shrugged. 'They're interested in missions and expeditions-'

'And you've been telling them?' Merlin asked in alarm.

'Well, yeah. They never asked anything to make me suspicious; they never ask about Camelot or anything about Arthur.'

'They just seemed interested,' Elyan added.

Merlin looked between the knights, but he could see a growing unease on their faces as they considered Steven's men. Merlin couldn't stop his own fear from rising up as he went back over what had been said: dark figures leaving in the middle of the night; people posing as old men outside villages; Steven's men involving themselves with the soldiers and knights; not only involving themselves, but seemingly being accepted quite readily by them.

He felt like blackness was swallowing him. The pit that he had been plunged into at the news of his mother seemed to be deepening. The urgency in him to act was growing with every passing second and he could see that the same was true of the others. With a numb detachment, he watched the three of them make arrangements. Gwaine would set out for Ealdor. It was agreed that he would wait until night, just in case one of Steven's men was planning to go out that day; anything to make the task easier. If no-one appeared, however, he would wait until first light and see if he could find the tracks that Steven's man would have left from his night time journeys. The knight had been concerned that his missing horse would raise alarms and so Peter suggested Zephyr, which the knight agreed to with very little prompting.

As their planning went on, Gwaine's uncertainty towards Peter seemed to fade, not least because the boy showed such determination and had so many good ideas. After suggesting Zephyr, he also suggested that they mark Torrent's shoes so that tracking would be easier. Both Gwaine and Elyan had stared at him in admiration at the suggestion and then set to marking the metal shoes using tools that were kept in the chests at the back of the stable.

With Gwaine's task sorted, Elyan then determined to pay closer attention to the things that Steven's men were saying to see if he could work out what was going on. Before Peter could tell them what he planned to do, the two knights had left the stables on their own separate missions. Gwaine had arranged to come back that night to sleep in the stables.

Soon, Merlin was left alone with Peter.

'Things are being done now, Merlin. Gwaine seems tough enough and mad enough. He'll find them.'

'Something's going on,' he replied instead. He had barely heard what Peter was saying.

'I know.'

'Something bigger than just me and Steven.'

'I know,' Peter repeated, this time his voice had softened.

Merlin looked up. He saw Peter staring at him expectantly and felt determination flood through him. He thought of his mother, in danger because of him, because of whatever Steven and Tiden had planned. He thought of Arthur, so pleased to have Merlin back and yet about to see his dreams of a united future torn apart because of that very same person. Merlin could not let his mother die; he could not let Arthur's kingship take such a blow.

He took a deep breath.

'Whatever Tiden and Steven have planned, I am going to stop it.'

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