Beyond Recall

A/N: In light of the dozens of typos that I found when I re-read this chapter, I'm going to apologise in advance for any mistakes that you find. Hopefully they won't take away from the story! Thanks very much for the reviews!

Please let me know what you think of this chapter!

Chapter 25

With the echo of Arthur's shouts following him through the catacombs, Merlin raced up through the dungeons and into the castle. As he reached the top of the stairs to the dungeons, he became aware of footsteps coming down the corridor. He pressed himself back into the shadows and held his breath. He couldn't help but close his eyes in relief as he heard Gwen's whispered tones. He waited silently as at least two dozen servants and rulers hurried quietly down the corridors. Their panic was evident, especially now that the bells were ringing throughout the halls, but Gwen's calm leadership seemed to be keeping their fears at bay.

Merlin counted everyone as they walked past. It seemed that nearly all of the leaders had been rounded up, but Merlin didn't see the King from Powys in the small entourage. His wife, however, was there; she was crying and one of the servants was leading her gently by the arm. Merlin wondered where her husband was. Powys and Camelot were on good terms, or at least they had been, would that be enough to avert a war if the King was dead?

As soon as they had moved past, Merlin extricated himself from the shadows and headed back up through the castle. Once at the top, he paused to consider his options. He could go and confront Tiden, but he had no idea how to stop the man after that. He could try and find Peter, but he didn't know where they were keeping him or even…even if he was alive. He closed his eyes for several seconds and took deep breaths as panic began to rise up in him. He could not afford to make mistakes. And he couldn't stay here much longer. As soon as Gwen got to the tunnel, which would be in a few minutes, Arthur would attempt to come after him. He only hoped that Gwen could talk him down.

Above him -he didn't know how many floors- Merlin heard the first clashes of swords. He froze, suddenly expecting to feel his magic draining from him, or the loyalty oath burning into his arm, but there was nothing. He cautiously reached into his body with his magic, gently probing to see if there was anything that seemed out of the ordinary, but there was nothing. If Tiden was using his magic, then he definitely couldn't tell. Hope began to bubble in him, however: perhaps the oath hadn't worked on him.

The sounds of metal striking against metal reverberated distantly again, drawing Merlin from his reflections. It spurred him to action and he turned towards his and Gaius' chambers, hoping against hope that his spell book would have something to help him. He ran, but even as he did so, he found that the pages of his book began flicking through his mind, his memories returning to him; page after page after page. Every time his feet hit the ground, a new spell and enchantment came back to him from the leaves of his book. And the further he ran, the more desperate he became. None of the spells that he was remembering would help him with either the loyalty oath –if indeed it did manifest at some point- or Tiden's control enchantment.

By the time he had reached the servant levels of the castles, his steps had slowed almost to a stop. He paused and leant against the wall, trying to clear his mind, trying to think of a plan, but nothing came to him. Around him in the surrounding corridors, he suddenly became aware of movement; he pushed himself into a doorway, worried that it was Arthur, or soldiers, but it was servants that appeared, stumbling down the main corridor towards the side passage that Merlin was in. He realised, with a jolt, that he recognised many of them from Camelot, recognised them from before. He stepped out and saw a young servant who he had seen in the kitchens on countless occasions, and who had said hello to him over and over again in the last few weeks.

'Merlin!' she called as he stepped forward. She had a shawl draped around her shoulders and her eyes shone with tears. She shivered, though it wasn't cold.

'Robyn,' he called and he saw a smile grace her features as he said her name.

'Yes,' she nodded. 'Yes, it's me. What's happening? Where's the King and our soldiers?' Merlin grasped her lightly by the soldiers.

'We're not sure what's happening, but I need you to tell everyone you see to get into their rooms and lock the doors until they're told it's safe. Don't wonder the castle, don't leave the servants' quarters. Do you understand me?' She nodded firmly, seeming to take confidence from the resolve in Merlin's voice.

'I will, I will,' she assured him. 'But where are you going?' she asked as he ran past her.

'I need to put some things right,' he told her. With that he was gone.

Arthur slammed his hands against the door with all his force, knowing that he was bruising and tearing the skin there. Quietly he thought he heard Merlin's voice giving another apology, but it only made him pound on the door even harder.

'Merlin!' he yelled. 'Merlin!' But he knew the man was gone. He let out a shout of rage that tore at his throat, and slammed his fists one final time against the door. How could he do that? How could he, after all his self-righteous comments about wanting to make Arthur trust him, how could he go and do that? Steal from him; lock him in the siege tunnels; lie to him again! He kicked the stone wall and instantly regretted it as his foot screamed in protest. He clenched his fists together and pictured himself tackling Merlin to the ground.

What was he doing? What part of the plan was this? Had Arthur been fooled so easily again into believing that Merlin wasn't a threat? He didn't know what to believe anymore; he didn't know who to trust or who to turn to. But he knew one thing for sure, he would not let Merlin do this easily; he would stop him, demand answers, make sure that Merlin knew exactly how much he had lost in deciding to throw aside all that he had once been.

He turned back down the tunnel and saw the torch still flickering where he had dropped it, and the bunch of keys -minus one very important one- a few feet away. Purposefully he strode back down the tunnel, trying to ignore the way his whole body was trembling with rage. He picked up the keys and attached them to his belt. Merlin may have managed to lock him in this tunnel, but as long as the cave in they had heard was small enough, all Arthur had to do was walk out the other end. He calculated that if he went at a flat out run, he could be out of the tunnel and back in Camelot in fifteen minutes, on top of however long it took to clear the tunnel. Without another thought, Arthur started to run; he would not let his kingdom fall to ruin and he would not allow Merlin to be the cause.

The blade of a sword slicing towards Merlin's shoulder caused him to stumble to the ground in an attempt to avoid it. He fell hard on his side and let out a grunt of pain, even as he scrambled to the side of the corridor to get away from anyone else who might try and skewer him, but none of the soldiers around him took any notice; the sword that had nearly slashed through his skin hadn't even been aimed at him, but a soldier from Powys.

It was the same everywhere in the castle. The ring of metal clashing against metal was all that could be heard above the shouts and grunts of men doing their best to kill each other. They had formed territories of sorts – groups of soldiers from the same kingdoms were defending certain sections of the castle; some of them close to the areas where their leaders had been staying, but whether or not they knew that their kings and queens were elsewhere, Merlin didn't know. It didn't seem to matter. There was a glazed look in their eyes and their fighting, while better than anything Merlin could manage, didn't seem as finessed as he would have expected from trained fighters.

Merlin edged along the wall to where the fighting was less concentrated and then pushed himself up. He was still only in the main entrance hall, having run into trouble on the level below when several corridors were blocked with groups of fighting soldiers, who must have been on some sort of watch duty over their supplies. As such, he had had to double back and find an alternative route; there was no way he would have got through there unharmed, even if the soldiers were ignoring him.

The entrance hall, though, was proving to be just as difficult to navigate, maybe even more so. The problem lay in the fact that the courtyard was just down the main steps and it seemed that the thickest fighting was taking place there. From where he was currently stood, Merlin could just make out the scores of men fighting as he looked out of the window.

And there were fatalities. Merlin tried not to think about the number of fallen soldiers he had seen. It wasn't huge numbers, not yet, but it would be enough to risk war. Somehow, Merlin had to make it to Tiden, he had to stop him. Taking several deep breaths and scanning every detail of the room, Merlin set off at a run, dodging between the vicious attacks that were taking place everywhere and, every now and then, using magic to create a gap by forcefully pushing soldiers out of the way. He ran on in the same vein for several minutes. The whistle of weapons past his head became a familiar sound, the sight of blank-eyed men raging against strangers created the scenery of his journey. And there was nothing Merlin could do if he didn't stop the person who was controlling them all.

It took much longer than Merlin would have liked, and several detours, to finally reach the corridor that would lead him to Tiden's room. He had no evidence, of course, that Tiden was there, but the fact that Cyathia had arrived in Camelot last meant that their rooms were quite out of the way; if Tiden wanted to remain undisturbed, then his best chance would be to stay where he already was. Merlin slowed his pace as he rounded the final corner and was met with a dozen Cyathian guards who were no doubt quite capable with magic as well. Without giving them time to react to his sudden appearance, Merlin instinctively threw out a huge blast of magic in their direction. Many of them crumpled instantly, their bodies been thrown against the wall and sliding down it, while others managed to stay on their feet, having thrown up some sort of shield. Merlin sensed several spells being flung back at him, but put his hand up. At first he thought it was just his body's instinctual reaction to attack and that he would find himself hitting his own wall in a few moments, but instead he felt his magic weave itself into a shield in front of him. He was pushed backwards by the combined efforts of the five remaining guards, but he stayed on his feet unharmed.

Feeling a confidence that felt both familiar and foreign at the same time, Merlin sent a second attack towards them, this time instructing his magic to completely immobilise the men in front of him. It worked instantly; the men froze, unable to move and so Merlin impressed a desire to sleep in their minds. Within moments their eyes were closed and Merlin let them fall to the ground, less gently than he really should have done. The hallway was silent once more, but Merlin looked to the door, expecting it to open any moment. It remained closed, however, and for several seconds Merlin worried that he had got it wrong after all and Tiden wasn't there.

That fear disappeared moments later when Merlin pushed open the door to Tiden's room, unlocking it with magic first, and stepped in. He staggered slightly at the intensity of magic that he felt in the room and for a few seconds it disorientated him, but then his body seemed to readjust and he was able to process the sights before him. Tiden and Steven were both in the room, but they looked very different. Steven was knelt on the ground, his head bowed and his eyes closed as if he was in a deep meditative state. Tiden on the other hand stood upright, his eyes glowing gold, his whole body tensed in concentration. Around him were several artefacts, including the bracelet that Merlin had been supposed to present to Arthur on their first day in Camelot. Merlin remembered only too well that its purpose was to store magic for later use and he guessed that each and every item arranged on the floor by Tiden's feet served the same purpose. The room seemed to vibrate with power.

As Merlin stepped forward, Tiden's eyes switched their focus from some unseen point in the room, onto Merlin. He smiled, the expression filled with malice and evil, an impression which was only heightened by the way his eyes glowed with power.

'Your discovery of my plan has been for nothing, Merlin,' he mused. Even his voice, seemed to shimmer with power and Merlin felt a genuine despair fill him. How could he possibly beat this?

'You need to stop this,' he said calmly. 'You're going to kill hundreds of people.'

'Cyathia will be safe.'

'How? You've turned all these kingdoms against her.'

'None of them know that we are behind it. There will be no-one left alive to tell them.'

'Many people know,' Merlin argued. You won't get away with this. You'll bring war to Cyathia.'

'No, I will bring peace to Cyathia. She will be free to flourish while this war rages on, and for years after while mistrust holds the land apart.'

'I will stop you,' Merlin told him.

'No you won't,' the man replied, his gaze shifting from Merlin and back onto the unseen point. With a yell, Merlin threw a blast of magic at the man, but it curled away like smoke as it was met by an invisible barrier.

'You're not strong enough,' Tiden told him.

'That's what you think, but your mark didn't work on me did it!' he said. 'I was strong enough to stop that.'

The laugh that came from Tiden's throat, enhanced as it was with such malicious magic, made Merlin shudder. He felt Tiden's eyes drift to him again, almost lazily, but they were filled with amusement.

'You think I've started using your mark yet?' he asked. Merlin swallowed back his fear at the words. 'Believe me; you'll know when you're being drained of your magic.'

Merlin opened his mouth to respond, but found that no words came out. Sounds behind him, however, caught his attention. He turned just in time to see Arthur, Gwaine, Elyan, Leon and Percival come crashing through the door. Merlin felt fear in case him in an instant.

Earlier

Arthur had been both suspicious and relieved to find that there was no cave-in in the siege tunnel as he had expected. As he reached the entrance, breathing so hard that he was forced to double over, he glanced around, wondering if the source of the noise had been some attack from outside. Had Tiden found out about Camelot's defences? Had Merlin told him? Arthur tried not to focus on that; any thought of Merlin just caused his anger to flare up again, making him lose focus. But as it turned out, there was no-one waiting at the other end; Arthur was at a loss as to how to explain what the noise had been earlier, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

The siege tunnel came out on the boarder of the eastern woods, hidden in a natural cave, with a metal grill cover that Arthur unlocked with a key that Merlin hadn't thought to remove. The cave entrance was then shrouded by a thick coating of trees that Arthur had to squeeze through. With that done, he turned back towards Camelot and quickly reached the east gate. He was somewhat alarmed to see that the guards had abandoned their posts, and Merlin's warning –accompanied by a restrained rage- came back to his mind. If what he had said was true –and the distant sounds of battle indicated that they might well be- then walking into Camelot looking very much like himself was likely to get him attacked.

Cautiously, Arthur slipped into the eastern gate and made his way to the houses against the wall. The streets were empty, people evidently barricaded in their houses, and it seemed that all the soldiers were up in the castle. As quietly as he could, Arthur inched forward. With his free hand, the one not clutching his sword, Arthur knocked on the door. There was no reply, and so with a firm kick to the door, Arthur made his way in.

He was met by a dully lit room and two men, evidently father and son, brandishing various improvised weapons at him. The father, who had to be in his fifties, was pointing a broom in his direction, while the boy had a washboard raised high. Behind them a woman and three younger girls were huddled together, their eyes closed tightly. Arthur lowered his sword immediately and held out his hands.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,' he began hurriedly.

'King Arthur?' the man asked, his eyes wide. Instantly he and his son lowered their weapons and dropped to one knee. The mother and daughter behind did the same. 'What's going on, Sire. The fighting?'

'I'm sorry, I don't have time to explain, but I must ask a favour.'

'Anything, Sire.'

'I need to borrow some clothes.'

A few minutes later, Arthur had discarded his royal clothing, which he had left in the care of the family, and donned a non-descript pair of breeches and an old shirt. He wore them over his chainmail, unwilling to part with that, even in a disguise. His sword in his hand didn't exactly help him to fully blend in as a citizen, but there was no chance that he was entering the battle ground that his castle had become without it.

With everything as ready as it could by, Arthur made his way quickly up through the town. As he got closer, he began to see groups of fighting soldiers and saw townspeople running away from the skirmishes, but he didn't try to intervene. He had a more pressing task at hand and he doubted that his involvement here would do any good. He instinctively knew that the soldiers would not listen to him. He could see the looks on the men's faces, even from a distance; their eyes were blank as if their bodies were moving of their own accord. Merlin had been telling the truth, at least in that respect.

As he got closer to the castle, the fighting intensified, but it seemed as if his disguise was working. The soldiers, though they glanced at him every now and then, did not seem to register him as a threat; even with his sword, they ignored him. Clearly they didn't realise who he was. He doubted he would be so lucky if one of Camelot's soldiers spotted him and so he avoided them more diligently.

He reached the courtyard a moment later and tried not to think about how difficult it would be for him to get through. The entire area was awash with men trying to kill each other. Their parries and blows were clumsy somehow, but just as strong as would be expected from trained fighters. And there were many of his men in there; he could tell from their chainmail and helmets. He scouted out a route quickly, not allowing himself to consider finding another way in that didn't cross the courtyard. This was the quickest by far, and the sooner he got to Tiden and Merlin, the sooner he could put an end to everything.

Gripping his sword more firmly in his hand, Arthur made to move forward, but a hand on his shoulder pulled him back. He swung around instantly, sword at the ready to meet any attack, but the face was a familiar one.

'Leon?' he breathed, but instantly Merlin's words of warning arose in his mind. The knights had been enchanted. He brought his sword up again, just in time to see Percival, Gwaine and Elyan join Leon, all of them with an equal look of confusion on their faces.

'Arthur, what is it?' Leon asked. He still hadn't raised his own sword. Arthur said nothing, his instincts warring inside. Could they be trusted? He thought back to what Merlin had said. It was true that soldiers throughout Camelot were enchanted, but his knights didn't wear the same blank expressions as those under the curse.

'Arthur?' Elyan asked. Slowly, watching their every move, Arthur lowered his weapon.

'The soldiers are enchanted,' Arthur said by way of explanation.

'We can see that,' Gwaine told him wryly. 'As you can see, we're not.' The tone made Arthur narrow his eyes at the knight, but another thought made them widen instead.

'You're not in Ealdor. He lied…again.' The last word came out as more a growl. Why was Merlin creating such a web of lies? What plan was he in on? The thoughts echoed back at Arthur and he felt a wave of nausea rise in him. This wasn't right, it just wasn't right to be thinking of Merlin as the enemy; his mind couldn't process the idea without feeling like it was being spun in different directions. But he had lied, he was still lying. He had said that the knights were enchanted when they clearly weren't; he had said that Gwaine was in Ealdor when in fact he was right in front of Arthur. But with every lie, Arthur found himself trying to push them aside; especially now that the anger had subsided by a small amount. He didn't want to believe this of Merlin; he hated thinking of him in this way. Why hadn't he just got to Merlin in time on the day of the accident? Why hadn't he stopped him from falling over that cliff?

'I was in Ealdor,' Gwaine replied, snapping Arthur from his internal condemnations. 'Merlin told you?' he asked, pushing forward in the group.

'He told me everything, or at least I think he has. He's lied too much for me to know for sure. You've got Hunith and Gaius?'

'They're safe, a bit dehydrated and very hungry, but alive. I left them in the town when I heard the fighting and then found this lot.' Arthur nodded in relief at Gwaine's explanation, but he knew that the relief wasn't entirely down to Hunith's and Gaius' safe return. He was relieved that Merlin's story had been the truth. Hope started to rise in him, but he pushed it down. Merlin had still destroyed the talks and locked him in the siege tunnel.

'What do you mean about Merlin lying?' Leon pressed, evidently confused. 'And why were Gaius and Hunith in danger?' He looked back and forth between the two of them and noticed that Percival seemed equally confused. Elyan, on the other hand, looked less shocked at Gwaine's excursion.

Arthur glanced at the castle and then back at his men. If he was going to defeat Tiden, then he needed help. Who better than his best knights? But if they were going to help, they had to have some understanding of what was going on. Quickly, biting back all his anger and betrayal, he filled the knights in on what he knew, with Gwaine and Elyan –much to Arthur's annoyance- filling in a few missing details. It took no more than a minute, but it still felt like time was trickling away. Their shock was clear, and hesitantly, Leon confirmed that Merlin hadn't been in his chambers all night. Arthur had almost forgotten that he'd asked the knight to spy on his former manservant. He pushed the thoughts aside.

'We need to stop him before he turns Albion into a war zone,' Arthur finished. 'Are you with me?' The men nodded, delivering their affirmations. The knights quickly discarded their Camelot robes in an attempt to blend in, and then the small group moved forward.

They made quick work of the courtyard. Where possible, they tried only to injure men, but it soon became clear that any injured man was as good as dead when thrown back into the mob of soldiers. So it was that they changed tactics and tried instead to simply push the men far enough back that they could get past. Sometimes that involved a skirmish, at other times it was a simple kick or punch. The problems came when the soldiers began to recognise who Arthur was. Arthur would see it in their eyes, for a split second there would seem to be some sort of focus in them. To these men, Arthur did deliver stronger blows in the hope of distracting their attention. It got them away from him, but probably signed their death warrants as they returned, disorientated, into fray.

Eventually, they reached the steps and fought their way up as a unit. Being in full control of their bodies and also being highly skilled warriors meant that making their way through the castle surrounded by soldiers who weren't fighting at their very best was quite straightforward, but it was slow work.

Even so, they soon found themselves moving through the upper levels, eventually reaching the corridor where Tiden's room was. Arthur's instincts told him that the King would be there. It was away from the fighting, away from everything.

They rounded the corner carefully to find several guards sprawled out on the floor. Arthur frowned. What had happened to them? He was willing to bet that Merlin hadn't been able to disarm a dozen heavily armed men. Had someone else got to Tiden first? They crowded around the door and then Arthur looked across at each of them in turn. With a final nod, they crashed through the door, their swords drawn, their muscles tensed. They stopped at what they saw. Tiden stood up straight at the back of the room, while another man knelt beside him, and Merlin was stood in front of the King, seemingly in the middle of talking to him. His manservant turned as they entered and Arthur saw the fear shoot through his features as he saw who it was that had arrived.

'What are you doing here?' he asked, his fear palpable. Arthur ignored him and addressed Tiden instead.

'You will stop this attack on Camelot and on the other kingdoms now,' he said firmly. 'You are killing innocent people and bringing war to the land, and I will not allow it.' He faced off against Tiden, unrelenting in his gaze, but the King looked entirely unconcerned at Arthur's words.

'Get out of here, Arthur, and get away from the knights,' Merlin shouted. 'You're not safe. Gwaine,' he tried, when Arthur simply glared at him to shut up.

'Enough, Merlin!'

'You're in danger!' Merlin shouted. 'Get out!'

'Now Merlin,' Tiden said. Arthur saw Merlin tense up at the words, his eyes filled with some hidden and terrible understanding. 'I think it's time to us my final mark. The strongest of them all.'

'I won't let you,' he snarled, his attention completely gone from Arthur.

'You won't be able to stop me.'

Arthur had no idea what was going on and he was about to ask, when Merlin's whole body suddenly froze. He watched as the man's back began to arch, his limbs spreading out and shaking uncontrollably, strangled gasps of defiance being wrenched from his throat.

'Merlin?' Arthur asked in alarm. All earlier anger and distrust disappeared in the light of what was currently happening to the man he had called his friend for the past six years. He moved closer, but Merlin trembled even more violently, his face contorting. He let out a scream of pain that Arthur had never heard coming from him before and it sliced through him like blades of ice.

'What are you doing to him?' he demanded of Tiden, moving to attack the King, only to be met by some invisible shield that sent him careening backwards. He half expected one of the knights to help him up, but he felt no hands and so scrambled to his feet. 'Stop it, now! What are you doing to him?'

'It's not what I'm doing to him; it's what I'm taking from him,' Tiden explained, his voice quiet and calm, but somehow laced with something that Arthur couldn't quite distinguish. There was a depth and power to the words that didn't feel real. 'But,' the King continued, 'you have other things to worry about, young king.' Arthur frowned, but movement from behind caught his attention. He turned, meaning to organise his knights into some sort of formation ready for whatever attack was awaiting them, but he quickly realised that no help would becoming from them. They were stood, each of them, in a defensive stance, their faces blank and their eyes empty.

Merlin had been right…again, Arthur realised.

That was the only thing he had time to consider before Percival jumped forward. Arthur just about managed to cut through his shock in order to bring his blade up and meet the blow that fell towards him.

Seconds later, they had all joined the fray.

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