Chapter XIX: Reunion
It was good to be Emrys.
Magic surged through him like a storm, brilliant and terrible. It filled his blood with lightning and his eyes with light. It obeyed him as easy as thought—easier, in fact, with the remnants of the mystery drug in his system.
All this was to say that without the shackles, Merlin's captors stood no chance. He willed their weapons to fly away, and they did, clustering right above Rience. A thought, and dust rained down upon the pharmacist's head. Another impulse (not even a thought, less formed than that, more primal and instinctive) grabbed hold of the men and slammed them together. Ropes appeared from thin air, binding them tight to each other.
The whole series of events took roughly five seconds, and it barely quieted the tempest within. The ocean was surging through the broken dam. Merlin wasn't afraid of being swept away in the flood, but he didn't want to accidentally kill the poor horses. Or the prisoners, he supposed, but mostly the horses.
The land-bond hummed as Merlin redirected the wild flow of magic. In his mind's eye, he watched grass and flowers spring up around the ruins of the Dark Tower, saw the fields and rivers ready themselves for new life.
It felt as though the surge lasted forever, but logically, it couldn't have been more than a few seconds before Merlin's magic settled down. He pushed a bit more towards Listeneise—the entire kingdom, as he was too far away to aim for anything more specific—then wrenched his attention away from the no-longer-quite-so-perilous lands and stoppered the flow.
His wrists hurt. Merlin lifted his arms to inspect them, wincing at the twin rings of blisters and the red swelling around them. Clear liquid oozed from broken skin. Not good. He'd need to see Gaius when he got back, but right now, he had far more pressing matters. "Where is Arthur?"
"He's—" the guard began.
"Don't tell him," Rience ordered. "Keep your fool mouth shut. Don't answer any of his questions, any of you!"
"Not even about what your favorite animal is?"
"What?" The pharmacist's bafflement was strong enough to momentarily overcome his rage and fear.
"I'm thinking of turning you into animals," Merlin bluffed. While he knew the spell, he'd never actually performed it. "If you're not going to talk, you don't need human tongues. I'm thinking something small and easy to transport in a saddlebag. Maybe birds of some sort. I like birds."
"There's another camp!" the guard shouted. "It's to the east, off an overgrown dirt road that leads into the woods."
"Be quiet!" Rience ordered.
Merlin squatted down, met the frightened guard's gaze with unsettling, unblinking eyes of yellow gold. "Keep talking," he advised.
The guard told him everything: location, defenses (rudimentary, thankfully, especially against what he had in mind), weaponry (less rudimentary), numbers. Merlin nodded along, committing every word to memory. When the guard was finished, the warlock sent his prisoners into enchanted sleep and levitated them into the cottage. He'd have to come back once all this was settled so he could go through the papers and books kept within, not to mention the gean canach, assuming it was here. For now, though, he had a rescue to attend to.
It seemed counterintuitive to teleport away from Arthur, but Wyrmbasu was faster than any horse. The red wyvern blinked in surprise when the warlock appeared before him, tilted his head in question. "Smart enemies," Merlin summarized. "That's the worst kind, especially when you don't realize right away how clever they are."
Basu hummed.
"Of course we can make a dramatic entrance! What do you take me for?"
The wyvern, pleased, knelt down so Merlin could clamber onto his back. "I'm going to teleport us most of the way. I swear it's no impingement of your capabilities, but they're a couple hundred miles away from our current location and I'd rather not leave Arthur and the knights with their captors any longer than necessary."
Basu deemed this an acceptable compromise. Merlin scratched him in his favorite spot as he recited the whirlwind spell.
Listeneise vanished, and the forest of Camelot surrounded them. Merlin had brought them to the cottage's roof, reasoning that this way Basu wouldn't have to maneuver through branches. The red wyvern spread his great wings and leapt into the air.
Merlin sent out a silent message directed to his friends. "I'm coming. I'll be there soon. Just hold on."
It was a small camp, barely worth the name. Just thirty men lived in these tents, but they were armed to the teeth. Spears, swords, maces, shields, bows and arrows, fine armor…. Even their horses were high-quality.
Madawg (still wearing Arthur's crown, which made Morgana's blood boil) had ordered his goons to erect two poles in the center of the little army camp. The knights and Marrok had all been tied to one, but Arthur was alone on the other. The prisoners still looked a bit groggy, but they were conscious.
One less thing to worry about, Morgana told herself.
Merlin wasn't there. Unless he was hidden within a tent, he hadn't been brought here with all due haste. Morgana told herself that there might be another camp hidden in Madawg's lands, separated in case one was discovered. She'd have kept the men together to get the most use out of the anti-scrying wards, but she could see the logic behind their caution.
Assuming that this other camp existed and they hadn't just killed the most dangerous warlock in Albion.
Morgana gave herself yet another little shake. Focus on what she could do for now, burn the world down later. Except knowing where Merlin was would help them plan.
The knights and Marrok couldn't use thought-speech, though they could hear it if it was directed at them. Arthur had tried to teach them over the winter, but without a spellbinder nearby to provide practical experience, they hadn't been able to pick it up, and things had been so busy since magic's return to Camelot that they hadn't had time for lessons. Only Arthur and Gwen knew how to respond to a spellbinder communicating through thought-speech. That would be enough.
"I'm here with Gwen, Morgause, and five warriors," Morgana projected, making sure to let her fellow rescuers hear. Dai and Neifion startled, looked at her closed mouth, but they said nothing.
"That makes this much easier," commented a wonderfully welcome voice. Morgana's grin nearly split her face. "Basu and I are in the skies." The rescuers looked up, but their view was blocked by leaves. "I promised him a dramatic entrance, so perhaps you could use that as a distraction."
"Much more effective than your first idea," Arthur grumbled.
"I'm so glad you're all right," Morgana told Merlin privately. Tears of relief prickled at the corners of her eyes. "Gods, Merlin, I was afraid they'd killed you."
"I thought they'd kill me too, but it turns out that they somehow managed to acquire a pair of magic-nullifying shackles," the warlock answered solemnly. Morgause sucked in a breath. "There aren't any left in Camelot, so these people clearly have contacts outside this kingdom."
"I suspect it's Alined," Arthur interjected, "but we won't know for sure until we've captured these traitors and interrogated them."
"What's a Basu?" whispered Neifion, clearly dreading the answer.
"Merlin's wyvern friend," Gwen explained just as softly.
Morgana managed to slap her hand over Dai's mouth before he squawked out "What?!" but it was a near thing.
"Are any spellbinders close enough to undo these knots?" Arthur asked.
"Not yet," Morgause replied, "but we will be soon. I'll unknot them as soon as I'm in range."
"You could walk up invisibly and borrow some weapons along the way," Merlin suggested. "Then, when Basu and I drop down, you release the prisoners and the rescue party can charge in from the forest. Most of them are facing Arthur's front, so we could try to trap them between our parties."
"A good idea, but we don't need to steal weapons. We brought extra."
Most spellbinders couldn't send the impression of a smile and laugh through thought-speech, but Merlin wasn't most spellbinders. He managed it just fine.
"I'll circle around the camp to make certain that no strays escape," Morgana volunteered. "Are we in agreement?"
They were. Even Marrok and the knights were making clear, if subtle, gestures of approval.
Morgana was already on the move. "I'll let you know when I'm in position," she told the group. Her next words, though, were for Merlin alone. "Thank all the gods you're still alive. I was terrified."
"I'm sorry. I should have realized that you'd be worried when we didn't return in time and tried to make contact."
"You were more focused on the rescue mission," Morgana pointed out.
"Yes, and you could have helped. You are helping."
"Bad habits break slowly."
"That they do."
"What happened anyway?"
"Smart enemies. Delyth, Madawg's wife, knowingly ate contaminated food, or perhaps the potion was in the wine. We assumed that she wouldn't drug herself, so we ate the same things that she'd already tried." A grimace. "And here we thought we were so clever."
"Gaius thought it was something like that." Idiots, all of them. Now that the worst of Morgana's fear had abated, she had the emotional space to feel annoyed.
"…He's going to kill me, isn't he."
The witch smiled. "He might just tell your mother."
"That's even worse!"
"I might tell your mother. She can help me lecture you."
"Mercy!" It was only half a joke. "But I suppose I deserve it, don't I."
At least he was somewhat self-aware. "Yes," the witch replied, letting anger tinge her mental voice before she redirected it. This conversation had to end. She sent her thoughts out to all her allies, not just Merlin. "I'm in position. Morgause?"
"Ready."
"So am I," Merlin said.
"Then let's begin."
An earsplitting roar—possibly magnified with magic, possibly just Wyrmbasu's natural ability—split the air. A red blur swooped down, crimson wings flaring at the last moment. The wyvern and rider had chosen their landing place well; Arthur was between them and the knights, so their location allowed them to cut off a possible escape route.
Gwen's party burst from the trees, swords at the ready. They cut down three men almost before the shocked, panicked rebels realized what was happening.
By that time, the knights had fanned out from their pole, grabbing for the swords that had suddenly appeared by their feet. Arthur followed suit a half-moment later, grabbing a sword of his own. Morgause appeared between him and Merlin. She too held a sword, but hers was on fire.
"Fight back!" shouted Madawg. He drew the sword at his hip. Excalibur glinted in the sunlight; the impostor king had stolen more than just Arthur's crown.
Four men had been cut off from the others. They were outside the ring of rescuers and former prisoners. One chose to flee into the woods. He didn't make it far, for Morgana thrust out her hand with a cry of "Acwele!" The man slammed into a tree. He did not get up.
The second man was heading for Merlin. Morgana turned her attention to him, but she needn't have bothered. Basu spun, remarkably fast for something so large, and pounced. The second man went down, his sword flying.
The third and fourth men were charging at Morgana, their faces contorted with rage and hate and fear. She summoned a shield. The attackers hit it and quite literally bounced off. A flick of Morgana's wrist, and they too went flying.
Her allies had acted just as quickly. Most of Madawg's men had been flung about with magic, and the others had been so surprised when the rescuers burst out of the forest that they hadn't been able to put up much of a fight. Between the non-magical rescuers, the spellbinders, and the newly freed knights, all the traitors save one been disarmed and/or wounded in less than a minute. The only traitor still standing was Madawg, who was dueling Arthur. As Morgana watched, the true king disarmed the false, raised his sword to the other man's unarmored throat.
"Going to kill me, brother?" Madawg spat.
"We aren't brothers," Arthur replied. "We wouldn't be even if we did share blood. Leon, you're in charge of seeing that the prisoners are restrained. Morgause and Morgana, you can both conjure ropes, right?"
"I can."
"Yes."
"Good. If they run out of rope, make more. Merlin, what became of the men who took you hostage?"
"Unconscious, sire, and tied up in a cottage to our west. I put them under a sleep spell, so they won't wake for hours."
"Good. You're to come with me for our first interrogation."
Merlin bowed slightly. He trotted over to Arthur, picking up Excalibur along the way. The king nodded his thanks as they exchanged blades.
Arthur reached out and seized his crown from Madawg's unworthy head. Morgana beamed.
Merlin was alive, her friends and family were safe and well, and they'd struck a major blow for magic. The future was bright.
"Why do you want me to help interrogate him?" Merlin asked his king.
"Quite frankly, I mostly just want you to stand there quietly and look more intimidating than you actually are. I'll handle the actual questioning."
"All right, Arthur. Do you think me casually using magic to, say, set up wards would make me look more intimidating?"
"Probably," Arthur was forced to admit. Either that or the blatant display of what he was fighting against would harden Madawg's heart further, but he was already bringing his Court Mage to the interrogation of a man who despised magic. That ship had sailed.
Merlin murmured a few words, gesturing at the sides of the tent in which they found themselves. Madawg watched with undisguised loathing, but he jumped when a trio of stools whizzed through the flap. One flew behind Merlin, one came to Arthur, and the third nudged Madawg's shin. Merlin went back to his arcane muttering with the ghost of a smile on his lips, then sat down. The light caught in his golden eyes, making them appear to glow.
Arthur would never admit it to his former manservant, but Merlin's gaze could be incredibly unsettling if you weren't used to it. Madawg wasn't. He was unsettled.
"Sit," Arthur ordered.
Merlin sat. Madawg waited just long enough to make his defiance known, then grudgingly seated himself upon the stool. The hate in his eyes hadn't lessened a whit.
"You've lost," Arthur told the man who would be king. "You've lost today and you will lose tomorrow. You and your men will be brought to Camelot for trial and sentencing. Once we've taken your castle, your wife will join you."
Fear flitted across Madawg's face. "And my son?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"My Camelot does not murder children," Arthur vowed. "Eliwlod and your unborn child, assuming the pregnancy is successful, will be safe."
"…Of course."
Arthur fought down his irritation, told himself that Madawg's distrust wasn't personal. It was not uncommon for kings to put would-be usurpers' entire families to the sword. If Arthur had been as evil as Madawg thought, then that would be a logical fear.
"Now, start talking."
No response, just clenched teeth. No matter. Arthur had expected this. "Merlin, remind me how long it takes to brew a truth potion?"
The warlock's lips twitched. He recognized this game. "That depends, sire, on whether or not you want to give him side effects."
Madawg began to look nervous.
"I caught him red-handed in an attempt to overthrow me. Madawg's guilt is not in question. The potion with side effects is faster, is it not?"
"Significantly so."
"Then brew that one after we get back to Camelot."
Merlin bowed, the very picture of obedience. Arthur fought not to roll his eyes. "Of course, sire."
"What would I get in return for my information?" Madawg demanded.
Arthur arched a brow. "Get? You're giving it up one way or another. Why should I give you anything?"
"Because you want these answers quickly, and if I give them of my own free will, I can save you several hours of waiting." A muscle jumped in his jaw. "My cooperation would make it significantly easier to put down this entire rebellion."
The king considered. "Your son can keep his lands," he declared. He'd have done that anyway, but Madawg wouldn't have guessed that. "They'll be placed in trust until he's of age, and he will be given to a member of my court to raise."
Madawg looked in horror at Merlin, who stared impassively back.
"A knight," Arthur clarified. As entertaining as it would be to let Madawg think that his son might be raised by the Court Mage, the belief would be incredibly counterproductive. "Perhaps my fiancee's brother, a skilled and honorable man. You and Delyth can raise your unborn child, as well as any subsequent children, in exile, and I will grant you annual visits with Eliwlod." Maybe he could ask Merlin or Morgana to teleport the boy and his foster-family to these visits. "You'll also be allowed to take a small sum of money from your estate to establish a household in exile."
It was a good deal, and Madawg knew it. Still, he remained quiet a few moments longer. Perhaps it was a matter of pride, or perhaps he was weighing the likelihood of further concessions if he pushed. The moments dragged on.
Merlin spoke a few words. Madawg jumped, stared at the quill and parchment that had appeared in the warlock's hands. Merlin stood. His stool floated before him, a perfect little table. "For notes, sire," he said blandly. Arthur knew him well enough to recognize the subtle signs; he was struggling not to laugh.
Madawg talked.
His sentences were short, clipped, punctuated with long pauses and quick glances at Merlin. He didn't know the location of every camp, though he could assure the king and mage that each camp was quite small to avoid attracting attention. Most of their recruits were staying in their day-to-day lives, unable or unwilling to leave until they were explicitly summoned.
That was good, Arthur decided. It meant they were less likely to organize on their own, more likely to slink quietly back into the fold and avoid causing trouble. They might cause trouble for individual spellbinders, which he could hardly approve of, but it could have been so much worse.
Then Madawg kept talking, and Arthur's nascent cheer died.
His men had been summoned. Before he'd brought his captives to this camp, he'd sent word to strike. The rebels were to go after anyone known to possess magic, then regroup and strike again. They would attack silently, in the dead of night, as fast and deadly as lightning bolts, killing not just spellbinders but also the families who had welcomed them back.
Worse still, this movement wasn't limited to Camelot. Madawg didn't know many details, but he did know that magic-haters in almost every other kingdom were plotting against their monarchs. The only exception was Deorham, whose king was supplying the rebels with weaponry and the occasional magic-nullifying chain.
Apparently, Alined had concocted a grand scheme to lure spellbinders out of hiding, trick them into congregating in his kingdom, and then kill them once their guard was down. The rebels would drive magic out of their own lands by either killing the local monarchs or terrorizing them into betraying the treaty. The spellbinders would flee to Deorham, which was supposedly safe, where Alined would welcome them with open arms… until he'd finished moving his own men into position. Then, supposedly, the slimy king would strike.
Arthur had his doubts about whether Alined actually meant to carry out this plan the way he claimed, and he thought that Madawg might, too. He decided to push. "You really think that Alined would keep his end of the bargain? He's notoriously untrustworthy. I wouldn't be surprised if he's trying to get all the spellbinders for himself."
"Even if he did betray us and try to keep the sorcerers safe, once we had the other kingdoms secured, he wouldn't be able to stand against us. One way or another, our movement would take Deorham, too."
Logical enough.
Merlin spoke up then. He'd been remarkably quiet, half-hidden in a corner as he took notes. "How does the gean canach fit into this grand scheme?"
Arthur had almost forgotten about the stolen slug thing. "Answer him," he ordered when Madawg hesitated.
"…The slug creature?"
"Yes."
"We were going to use it against Court Mages and other powerful sorcerers. Make examples of them."
Arthur didn't know how he knew, but he was completely certain that Madawg was… if not lying, exactly, then not telling the entire truth. He leaned forward, holding the rebel's gaze. "What else?"
"And less powerful sorcerers, I suppose, though I thought that went without saying."
"And what else?"
"That's it," Madawg lied.
"No, I don't think it is."
"I'm telling the truth."
"Would you like me to find you another scribe, sire?" Merlin asked. "I can start the truth potion right now."
"I might just take you up on that offer, Merlin."
Madawg broke. "We—have you ever heard of the Crystal Cave?"
Arthur hadn't, but Merlin nodded. "It's supposedly the birthplace and ultimate source of magic," he explained to his king. His eyes were very wide. "That's what they want to do. They want to destroy magic itself."
"…Would that even work?"
"Almost certainly not, but the wretched creature could cause damage before it died from overeating. Get slime all over the walls when it exploded."
"It will work," Madawg spat. "Perhaps not at first, but we will find a way."
Merlin shook his head. "There's about five or six different reasons that it wouldn't work, but they involve some higher-level theoretical stuff that would take a long time to explain." The brief-lived tension was draining from his shoulders. He smiled, relief bringing him to the edge of laughter. "You can't destroy magic any more than you can slay the stars or the wind or the sea. The world just doesn't work that way."
Arthur believed him. Merlin Emrys was born of dragon's blood and Sidhe royalty, of prophecy and hope; he had flung the caul from his golden-eyed head at the moment of his birth. He would know.
One less problem to worry about, then.
Good. Between Alined's involvement, the still-missing artifacts, the impending attacks, and the international scope of this whole mess, they already had enough problems to solve.
Alternate chapter title: "In Which Merlin and Arthur's Inevitable Lecture is Delayed by Necessity"
Next chapter: May 19... I hope. Gaius shows up and our intrepid heroes try to prevent as much disaster as they can.
Those of you who actually read my AN ramblings might know that I've been struggling with the end of this fic. I've replanned the ending several times (and probably have to again), I've had to do a fair amount of rewriting (and still do), I've had writer's block. Additionally, I've been extra busy for the last few months because I took on a contract job to produce some materials for a museum, which is hopefully the foot in the door that I need to switch careers. All this combined means that I need to redo chapter 20, scrap the little I have of chapter 21, and create everything else except the epilogue. I should be able to finish chapter 20 by my deadline, but if not, I'll get it up as soon as it's finished. I've got a staycation coming up in May, so I can probably rebuild a bit of buffer then. Thank you for your patience, and wish me luck!