Episode 8 – Revenge!

Merlin pressed his palms against the door and pushed. Not that he actually thought he could open it without magic – he was aware that he wasn't exactly Schwarzenegger in the muscle department – but something, maybe insanity from being trapped in this cell for hours on end, told him to keep trying.

'Blast Gaius' he muttered to himself. 'Why couldn't he have gotten a crush on someone else? Why me? I'm no Robert Pattinson. I can't make all the teenage girls swoon! The only thing I've got going for me is magic! And even that can't get me out of here!'

He kicked the door in frustration; then hopped up and down, holding his foot and swearing under his breath. Finally he got fed up and sank to the floor, exhausted.

After banging the back of head against the stone wall for ten minutes, for lack of anything better to do, Merlin decided no; that probably wasn't the best idea as his head hurt, and instead took the time to study his cell. At the far end was a weird looking contraption he couldn't make head or tail of. What it was for, he didn't want to guess. Although from the rumours he'd heard of Gaius's perversions, it probably had something to do with torture of some description. Merlin couldn't imagine getting off on someone else's pain. He didn't like pain, full stop, his or anyone else's! Even Jim Rose's Circus, which had so fascinated Arthur (the sick prat), made Merlin squirm!

Other than the contraption, which boasted straps for arms and legs and something Merlin assumed was a head restraining device, there was precious little else in the room to occupy his time. He could have at least left me a book to read, Merlin thought, crabbily. I'm going to go crazy in here, staring at the walls!

Suddenly he heard the sound of a key in a lock and sat bolt upright. An idea was forming in his mind. If he could just trick Gaius into thinking he was okay with being his prisoner, maybe the old boy would relax and make a mistake, which would give Merlin time to escape!

The old healer entered the room, being careful to close the door and lock it behind him. 'Ah' he said, with a look on his face Merlin didn't fancy, 'Finally we're alone'.

Merlin gulped. 'Uh… Yes… and I've been looking forward to it, all day'.

Gaius blinked, but didn't respond. 'The birthday party's well and truly over'.

'Yes, well, a rampaging dragon tends to do that' Merlin pointed out. 'I wonder who set it free'.

'I don't care' said Gaius, shrugging. 'Uther's been keeping that thing prisoner for two decades. Stands to reason it would be a little ticked off, and want payback'.

'Like me, being cooped up in here?' Merlin reminded him. 'I wish I could barbeque you with a single breath! You were supposed to be my friend…'

'Again you start with that. Betrayal is the least of your worries'.

'So… what are you going to do with me?'

Gaius smiled. 'All in good time; my dear boy'.

'What are you waiting for? If you're planning on taking advantage of me, let me know now, so I can practice going to my happy place'.

'Oh, I'll make you go to your happy place' Gaius leered. 'Unfortunately, I'm an old man, and Horny Goat Weed takes a while to kick in. So let's talk'. He grabbed the chair and put it down opposite Merlin on the floor. Sitting down, he proceeded to slide a foot up Merlin's leg. Merlin hissed and folded both legs up against his chest.

'Have you heard anything more about Camilla and Eris?' he asked Gaius, desperate to take the focus off himself. 'Do you know where Uther's keeping them?'

'If I did, do you think I'd tell you? You just want your little girlfriend back. Well, Uther's going to execute her tomorrow, and you know what that means'.

Merlin winced and drew a finger across his throat, gulping.

'Nope' said Gaius, brightly. 'The men get the axe; the women are burned at the stake'.

'Well, that's hardly fair!' cried Merlin. 'Why do men get to die quickly, while women have to suffer? My darling Camilla…' A tear rolled down his cheek.

'I wish I could tell you I cared, but…' Gaius shrugged. 'No such luck'.

'Just do whatever you're going to do' said Merlin, suddenly. 'It doesn't matter any more, anyway'.

Gaius pouted. 'You're meant to cry, scream, struggle! It's no fun if there's no fight in you'.

'You're sick'.

'Thank you'. Gaius took a bow. 'Are you hungry?'

'Yes! I'm starving!' Merlin said, giving Gaius his best puppy dog eyes. 'If you bring me a hamburger, I promise to cry and scream, as much as you want'.

'Very well. A hamburger it is' said Gaius. Standing up, he leaned over Merlin and ruffled his hair, condescendingly. Merlin resisted the urge to punch the old boy in the guts, preferring to bide his time. When the court physician had his back turned, and was unlocking the door, Merlin stood up and tiptoed behind him. The second Gaius had the door open, Merlin put his arm around the old man's throat, and squeezed until he collapsed to the floor. Then he jumped over Gaius's body, grabbed the keys from the door and locked Gaius in his own torture chamber!

'Now' said Merlin, aloud, 'Time to find Camilla and Eris!'

Camilla couldn't believe she was in this situation. Here she was, the maid of a Goddess, and the silly bint couldn't even break them out of jail because Uther didn't believe in her magic! I guess that's the big downside to being a deity, she surmised. If you're a plain old witch, like Mab, it doesn't matter if people believe in you or not, you can use your powers in a place like this! Maybe I should have joined forces with Mab instead, Camilla thought. She wouldn't let a pesky lock hold her back!

'What are you thinking?' Eris asked suddenly. 'And don't tell me you're not – I can practically see the wheels turning, in there. Have you got a plan to get us out of here?'

'Me? A plan? Isn't that your job? You are, after all, a God' Camilla reminded her. 'I thought you were supposed to be able to whip up a tornado by sheer force of will? Instead you're this impotent hack, who has to resort to silly plots to get people to lose their mind! You couldn't even summon a gentle breeze in this place! Why, even that old cow Mab makes you look like a total incompetent! I should have teamed up with her instead….'

Eris's face was getting redder and redder as Camilla continued to insult her. Her hands curled into fists, and her eyes narrowed. But it wasn't until Camilla made some crack about purple making her look washed out that the Goddess finally snapped, and lunged at her not-so-loyal handmaiden, grabbing her ponytail and sinking her nails into the girl's cheek.

'Ow, you bitch! Get off me' said Camilla, applying a one-handed Chinese burn to Eris's forearm.

'You first, Slag!'

'No, you first!' Camilla grabbed herself a handful of Eris's dark hair and pulled hard. The Goddess shrieked, and all of a sudden, thunder rumbled above their heads. 'What's that?' Camilla said. 'Sounds like the party's warming up'

'It's thunder, you dim bitch' Eris snarled. 'Turns out I'm not so impotent, after all'.

'Yeah right' Camilla scoffed. 'They're probably bowling up there. At a guess I'd say we're right under the main dining hall'.

'Bowling in the dining hall? Gee, you really can't believe that I'm capable of using my powers here, can you? So much for a loyal servant' Eris let go of Camilla's hair and crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. 'Don't you remember how when I used to get angry, lightening would strike my nemesis dead? I could arrange that if you keep pissing me off'.

'So go ahead, then' Camilla challenged. 'Strike me dead! I bet you can't'.

Eris glared at her. 'Don't push me, Camilla…'

'Or what? You'll pay someone to curse me?'

'Aaarggh!' Eris howled, in rage and frustration. 'Shut up, you… you… short freak!'

'Short freak? Is that the best you can do?'

And it was on for young and old. Fists flew, nails scratched and even teeth were employed, at one stage! The fight dragged on and on until finally, beaten and bloodied, both combatants dropped to the floor, exhausted. Eris was about to say something when the door to their cell burst open, and in walked an odd-looking knight. His chain mail was far too loose, and his helmet looked too large for such thin shoulders. Even the boots he wore weren't the best fit. 'You're the skinniest knight I've ever seen' Eris said, rather rudely. 'Who are you?'

The knight ripped off his helmet, and Camilla gasped in joy. 'Merlin! You've come to rescue us!'

'Yep' said Merlin. 'But we've got to hurry. Hang on… what happened to you two? Did Uther order his men to rough you up?'

'No, that was her' Camilla said, gesturing at Eris, who was surveying the damage the fight had done to her dress. 'We kind of had a disagreement'.

'I'll say' laughed Merlin. 'You can tell me about that later. Right now, we'd better go before Uther's men come back. If I couldn't pass for a knight with you guys, I've got even less hope fooling them'.

Meanwhile, Mab had managed to get away from Kilgaro while he was busy roasting the singer to a crisp, and was now busy packing her bags up in her chambers. Why on Earth I decided to come to a place like this is beyond me, she thought, sniffing as she thought of her poor manservant, Alfie. How he must have suffered in those last moments… Being eaten alive by a dragon was one of Twenty-to-One's top most painful ways to die, according to the terribly orange fat man with the bad facelift on TV. Along with being skewered on a bed of nails and stung by a hundred scorpions at once!

Picking up her suitcase, Mab turned toward the door, but was shocked to see Morgana standing in her way. And behind her was none other than the dragon!

'Were you going somewhere?' Morgana asked, innocently.

'Getting the hell out of here, that's what I'm doing' Mab snapped. 'Get out of my way!'

'Oh… I thought you were a big bad witch who could just fling me out of her way if she wanted'.

'I will, if you don't stand aside and let me through! And keep that animal of yours away from me! His breath stinks'.

Morgana folded her arms over her chest. 'He has a name'.

'Kilgaro. Whatever. Move'.

'Actually, we might have a teensy problem with that. See, in return for freeing the last dragon, he's agreed to help get rid of anyone I deem to be a right royal pain in my arse. And you, Mab, are on that list'.

Mab pouted. 'What did I ever do to you?'

'Oh well… let me see. Apart from using my toothbrush to clean the mould off the bathroom tiles, there was the time you drank all the V8 juice and didn't think to replace it; all the times you barged in while I was having a bath and insisted I listen to your incessant whining about how men just don't appreciate your many talents; the times you borrowed my clothes without asking; how you accidentally on purpose spilt cranberry juice on my favourite top when I caught you wearing it without asking…'

'Are we finished yet, dear? I need to go collect my pension' Mab interrupted, rolling her eyes. 'Okay, okay so I did all those things! So what? They're only minor annoyances! It's not like I deserve the death penalty for being the world's worst houseguest'.

Morgana frowned as she pondered Mab's words. 'No. Probably not' she decided. 'So here's what I'll do. I'll give you a thirty second head start. If you're not out the gates of Come-a-lot by that time, Kilgaro here gets his supper an hour early'.

'Fine', said Mab. 'I guess I'll see you, then. You have a lovely home. Thanks for letting me stay here'. Before Morgana could respond, the witch had disappeared into thin air.

Kilgaro made a huffing noise. 'I suppose I should be glad I didn't have to eat the old cow' he muttered. 'She was mutton dressed up as slightly younger mutton, and she probably tasted like that, too'.

'Ew', Morgana said, making a face. 'You're grossing me out. Okay… Until Uther shows up, let's hit number three on my death list'.

'Ay' said Kilgaro, licking his lips. 'Now that sounds like a plan'.

Meanwhile Arthur and his knights were galloping through the forest, acting on a tip that the last dragon had set himself up in a cave there after the debacle that was the king's birthday brunch. But after an hour and a half of searching, Arthur was forced to admit they'd been sent on a wild goose chase. By Morgana, of all people!

'What is she up to?' Arthur asked no one in particular. 'It's almost as if she wanted me out of the way, for some reason! But I have no idea why! I should have trusted my instincts, back there in the bomb shelter, when she told me she'd had a dream the dragon was in the forest! I mean, her visions have come true before, but…'

'My Lord' interrupted Lancelot, 'Morgana would never lie to you about something like that. She is a lady, and a lady is true to her word'.

Arthur shook his head. 'My man, you have a lot to learn about women'.

Suddenly the horses up ahead reared. Something was coming. Arthur peered into the dark of the forest. 'What is that up ahead?'

'It's a carriage, my lord' Galahad called back. 'Sort of like one of those old gypsy caravans. I wonder what it's doing out this neck of the woods?'

'Well, we'll soon find out' said Arthur. 'I know every civilian in the kingdom. I don't know anyone who owns a horse-drawn gypsy caravan. That can mean only one thing'.

'You don't know everyone?' Lancelot guessed.

'No, you fool, they're outsiders. And you know what the old man thinks of outsiders. Especially gypsies! To Father, that's just another word for sorcerer'.

The odd little caravan soon came into view. Pulled by a single white pony, the brightly painted wagon boasted a large blue, red and yellow banner on the side, which read, simply, "The Leyland Brothers"

'The Leyland Brothers' Arthur read, aloud. 'What kind of a name is that for a legitimate business? It doesn't even tell you what they're selling'.

'What makes you think they're selling anything?' Lancelot asked.

'Gypsies are always selling something' Arthur murmured, putting his hand on the hilt of Excalibur. 'And tricking people out of their hard-earned money; while they're at it. Be on your guard, men. They'll try their best to charm you. Don't be fooled by their wiles'.

The old man at the reins called the pony to a halt, and the caravan stopped several feet in front of Arthur's posse.

'Who are you people?' the prince asked, warily. He was careful not to sound too defensive, as gypsies had a reputation of being moody, and could put a curse on you for the most ridiculous of slights. Or at least, that's what Arthur had heard. He'd never actually met one in person.

The old man sitting up in the driver's seat didn't say a word. Instead, the door to the caravan opened and out stepped a man with a ginger walrus moustache, wearing a tweed waistcoat. His head was as bald as a bowling ball. 'Hello, chaps' he said. 'Nice night for a ride in the woods, eh wot?'

'You're not a gypsy' Arthur scoffed. 'What are you playing at?'

'I'm Mike Leyland' said the man. 'I'm a travelling hypnotist and showman'.

'And I'm his brother, Mal' said another man, slightly taller than the first, and with more hair, but otherwise, a dead ringer for his sibling. 'We're the Leyland Brothers'.

'Yeah, yeah I get that' said Arthur, impatiently. 'What I want to know is, what are you doing in my woods?'

'Your woods? You own the forest, then?' asked Mike. 'Well, you're a lucky man, eh wot?'

'Stop saying that!' Arthur commanded. 'I asked you, what business brings you to these parts?'

'We're just setting up camp for the night' Mal replied. 'We're just passing through'.

'What's this stuff about you being a hypnotist?' Lancelot asked Mike. 'Can you help people stop smoking?'

Arthur glared at Lancelot, but said nothing. The fool would find out for himself that people like these… Leyland brothers were not to be trusted.

Mike nodded. 'I can make a man stop smoking; I can make him cluck like a chicken, if I've a mind to'.

'And I am an illusionist' Mal added. 'I don't call myself a magician, because of the bad connotations of the word, especially around here. Nothing I do is actual magic. But the kids love us at parties'.

'That's what you do?' Arthur asked, incredulously. 'You perform at kids' parties?'

'Any occasion, really' Mike Leyland replied. 'Anywhere there's an audience, that's where we'll be'.

Arthur bit his lip. 'Well… okay then. You can camp here tonight, but you're to be on your way tomorrow. There's a dragon in these woods, or so we're told. Not sure I believe it, myself. But you'd best be careful, anyway'.

'Thank you for the tip' Mike Leyland said, bowing before the prince. 'We appreciate your hospitality, Sir'.

'He's the Crown Prince Arthur' Lancelot told them. 'So it's a royal welcome'.

Something changed in Mike Leyland's tiny, pig-like eyes. 'Is that so? A prince, eh? Might you be related to Uther Pendragon? I haven't seen that old coot since, well, the Great Purge'.

Arthur's hand instinctively headed for his sword, again, on mention of his father. The king had made so many enemies; he'd lost count of who was bearing a grudge these days, and who was still a friend. 'Yes. He's my father'.

'Arthur! My dear boy! I haven't seen you since you were knee-high to a grasshopper!' Mike Leyland chortled. 'Send word to the castle and I'll come up and see the old chap!'

Lancelot nudged Arthur's foot with his own. 'I think they're on the level' he whispered. 'At least give them a chance'.

'I'll tell my father you were asking after him' Arthur replied, finally. 'And get word back to you if he wishes your company'.

'My, you're a stuffy old sock already, aren't you?' Mal Leyland exclaimed. 'Chip off the old block, that's for sure'.

'They certainly seem to know your old man' Galahad said, over his shoulder. 'What should we do, Sire?'

'Like I said. Let them camp for the night, and let the old man know they're in town. If he wants to see them, he'll send for them'.

Mike Leyland bowed again. 'Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Arthur. I look forward to catching up with the king'.

'Well… have a good night, then' said Arthur. 'And we'll see if he's as anxious to catch up as you are, soon enough'.

Gwen, meanwhile, had trudged back up to her chambers after spending the afternoon locked up in that dismal bomb shelter with the king, Morgana and Arthur. It had taken all she had, physically, to keep a neutral face, and not show that she knew something they didn't know. If they even guessed she knew something, they would want to know what it was she knew, and that would be bad, very bad, for Merlin. But Gwen by nature was not a very good liar. And what she'd seen in that dining hall had so freaked her out that she was itching to tell somebody. So it was a relief to finally leave the confines of the bomb shelter and go somewhere alone, where she could think.

So Merlin's a sorcerer, she mused, as she poured far too much bubble bath in the tub. If I hadn't seen it for myself, I wouldn't have believed it. I mean… Merlin? He's so… normal! What makes magic choose people, then, she wondered. Is it their inherent wickedness? Uther would have me believe so. But I just can't believe that Merlin's wicked. There isn't a malicious bone in his body!

The more Gwen pondered the subject the more she came to believe that Uther was the one who had it all wrong. If Merlin indeed was a sorcerer, then he was using his magic for good, not evil. In fact, Merlin having magic in him at all explained a great deal of weird shit that had been happening over the past few years! Like every time Arthur seemed to get into strife, something improbable – impossible, even - would happen to get him out of it, and Merlin was always right there, in the mix. Gwen didn't believe in coincidences.

Suddenly, just as she was about to drop her robe and hop into her bath, the door burst open, and Morgana sailed in, followed by the dragon, who had some trouble fitting through the door.

'Ew, don't bring him in here' Gwen said. 'He smells of burnt human flesh'.

'There's a good reason for that' Morgana beamed. 'He just got rid of Henry, Father's faithful bit of rough trade – whoops, loyal manservant, for me! First he cooked him til he was medium to well-done, then he…'

'Gross, Morgana!' cried Gwen. 'I don't want to know! I mean, I know you hated the guy, and I know he gave you the skeevies, but he didn't deserve to die like that! Jeez!'

'He did more than give me the skeevies' said Morgana, staring out the window. 'He was a dirty old man who won't be feeling anyone up, where he's gone'.

'You should have told Uther, you know' Gwen pointed out. 'If he'd known, I'm sure he would have cast the creep out, himself. Or had him executed – which would have been a far sight better than being eaten alive'.

'He wasn't alive' protested Kilgaro. 'He was well and truly dead by the time I finished cooking him'.

Gwen held her hands over her ears. 'Lalalalala' she sang, aloud. 'Wow – Merlin's right, this does work'.

'Where is Merlin, anyway?' asked Morgana. 'I haven't seen him since brunch. Do you think he's all right?'

'Why wouldn't he be all right?' Gwen asked. 'The chief cause of all the trouble is right here, smelling up my bathroom! You didn't happen to eat Merlin in the middle of all that drama downstairs; did you?' she asked the dragon.

'Merlin… Let's see… skinny kid, who kept me chained up so he could use me for free advice on his destiny. Nope, I think I left him alive' Kilgaro joked. 'But he was lucky. If I'd been in a worse mood, he would have been toast. And I do mean literally'.

'Destiny' Morgana pondered. 'That's an odd word to use. Merlin has a destiny?'

Gwen bit her lip. 'Well… I suppose we all do, in a way' she said. 'Would you like a bath, my Lady?'

'Don't try to change the subject, Gwen!' Morgana scolded. 'You know something!'

'No I don't' said Gwen, quickly. 'I know nothing. Really'.

Morgana narrowed her green eyes at her servant girl. 'I'm not sure I believe you. Kilgaro, will you leave us?'

'Very well, my lady' said the dragon, and backed out the door, again, with great difficulty.

Morgana turned back to Gwen, who was looking more sheepish by the minute.

'Spill, Gwen' she ordered. 'What is this about Merlin and a destiny?'

Gwen laughed, nervously. 'I r-really, do know nothing about it, my Lady. Except… I think…' then inspiration hit 'I think he's betrothed'.

'What? Merlin? He doesn't even have a girlfriend'.

'Yes he does. He's going out with that pixie chick who does the Goddess Eris's make up for her'.

'But they've only known each other a few days! Gwen, you're making this up! I know you know something'.

'No you don't' said Gwen, boldly. 'You know nothing. Even if you recognised that you knew nothing, then that would be something. But you don't'.

'Cut the BS, Gwen' Morgana snapped. 'Or I'll go to the source, and ask him, myself'.

'No, you can't' said Gwen, panicked. 'Um… Because… there's nothing to know'

Morgana groaned, and slapped her forehead. 'I feel like I'm going backward, here! All right… have it your way. But I will find out your secret, Guinevere! Or should I say, Merlin's secret'.

'Merlin's secret is… he's in love with you' blurted Gwen. 'There… I told you. He's been desperately in love with you from the moment he first clapped eyes on you. He believes it's his destiny to make you fall in love with him. But he's just a simple servant boy, so he thinks he's not good enough for you. Oh my God, he is so going to kill me when he finds out I told you'.

Morgana had a strange look on her face. 'Merlin's in love with me' she said, almost to herself. 'Me?'

'Yes, you' Gwen said. 'But like I said – don't let on that I told you. He'll never forgive me'.

'All right' said Morgana. 'I promise. I won't tell. Now hop along out of here. I'm having a bath'.

'Hey' Gwen cried, indignantly. 'That was my bath!'

Uther trampled through the broken glass still scattered over the dining room floor as he headed up to his chambers, tired and hungry after spending much of the day in the bomb shelter, for his own safety. The others had left earlier, but it had been Arthur's idea that he stay put the longest, just in case someone actually made good on their threat to kill him. There were far too many people getting about with gripes against him, Arthur had pointed out. What with Eris trying to poison him, and someone setting the dragon on him, and Mab, one of his oldest enemies, just being in town… He felt as though he was walking around with a massive target on his back. What he needed was a rubdown from his faithful manservant, Henry, a nip of that Scotch and a big fat Stogie…

Come to think of it, where was Henry? Uther hadn't seen him since that morning, when the middle-aged, greying Scotsman handed him a cure for what ailed him in the bedroom, in the hope that that foxy minx Ke$ha would decide that she wanted to fuck royalty. Yes, Henry was good for a lot of things. He was kind of like the best concierge at a hotel, who always had the best seats to a Leeds United game, or knew where all the happening parties were. The man was a freak, it was that simple. He always knew what Uther wanted; sometimes before Uther even knew he wanted it! So where the hell was he?

'If you're looking for Henry, don't bother' said a voice Uther hadn't heard since… well, that morning, really, but he'd successfully managed to repress most of that nastiness.

The king looked up at the dragon, which was perched on the newel post at the top of the stairs. The mythical creature smelled of death.

'What have you done with Henry?' Uther asked, his face going red with pent up rage. 'I demand you answer!'

'You might want to ask Morgana that question' Kilgaro replied, casually. 'He's made life pretty difficult for her since she turned fourteen, going by what she told me'.

'Difficult how?' said Uther, refusing to acknowledge out loud what he knew in his heart to be true. 'She never mentioned anything to me'.

'She wouldn't. She thought it would be his word against hers'.

'So… he's dead' said Uther, flatly.

'Yes' said Kilgaro. 'But he's not the only one on her shit list'.

'She's the one who set you free, isn't she'.

'She might be'.

'And you told her… what? That you would smite her enemies in return? Who else has she had you kill for her?'

'Well, she was gunning for Mab, but her reasons were rather trivial, so…'

'Trivial? The whole reason the bitch came to town is to plot my death! Morgana couldn't have had her bumped off, oh no…'

'Because Numero Uno on Morgana's shit list, my Lord, is…'

'Father!' Arthur interrupted, as he and the knights returned from the forest. 'You'll never guess who we ran into… Bloody hell!' The young prince rushed to put a barrier between his father and the dragon. 'You were supposed to be shacked up in the forest somewhere! So much for that', Arthur hissed at Kilgaro. 'That's the last time I listen to one of Morgana's so-called feelings…'

'Morgana said that to get you and the knights out of the way' Uther told his son, quietly. 'So she could set her pit bull terrier here on my faithful manservant'.

Arthur looked up at the dragon. 'You killed Henry? Why?'

'Because he'd been trying to take liberties with her since she was fourteen. If it weren't for that chastity belt, he'd have done a lot worse' Kilgaro told him. 'He deserved it, the lecherous old creep'.

'Here here' cried Galahad. 'Where is My Lady?'

'Having a bath' said the dragon, with something that approached a grin on his scaly face. 'I dare you to go in there'.

'He'll be doing nothing of the sort. What news do you bring of the forest, Arthur?' the king asked, holding out an arm to block Galahad's progress up the stairs.

'Well, we didn't find the dragon, because obviously, he's still here', said Arthur, rolling his eyes, 'But we did run into a couple of chaps by the name of Leyland. They say they know you, Father. In fact, from what they were saying, they know you quite well! What do you say of them, are they good people?'

'They most certainly are' said Uther, a smile on his dial for the first time since Ke$ha had sung Happy Birthday to him that morning. 'Those guys go right back to my days at Eton! Send word that they can join me here, at the castle, while they're in town, will you? My, my! The Leylands… well as if that isn't a blast from the past…'

The king made his way up the stairs, past Kilgaro, who looked as though he was considering putting a torch to Come-a-lot's main man right there and then, but had to rethink that plan when five knights thrust their swords at him. 'All right, all right' grouched Kilgaro. 'I'm going'.

Gaius opened his eyes, only to realise he was staring out at his own dungeon. His head hurt like a bitch, and his mouth felt like… cashmere! What the hell? He tried to move, but his head seemed stuck in one position, and something cut painfully into his forehead. As he tried to lift his arm, he discovered that he couldn't – and then it dawned on him why. He was strapped into his own contraption! Someone had fixed him to The Rack!

'Hello' said Merlin, his face coming to view from the side. 'I was wondering when you were going to wake up! Or should I say, we were wondering'.

Gaius's eyes followed Merlin's across to his left, and saw a gleeful looking Camilla Everhart. 'Hi, Gaius' she said, as if talking to a person strapped to a torture device was the most natural thing in the world. 'Have a nice nap, did you?'

Gaius tried to curse, tried to yell, but there was something stuffed in his mouth. It smelled like Merlin's cologne. He was gagging on Merlin's neck scarf!

'Nice touch, right?' beamed the boy. 'I mean, I know you like me, so I figured you wouldn't mind having a piece of me in your mouth. Since you're never getting any of the real deal, that is'.

'Mmmf' said Gaius. 'Mmm Mm fff… FFFFffff'

'Do you think he's angry?' Camilla asked Merlin, in a conversational tone.

'I think if he isn't then by the time we're finished with him, he definitely will be' answered Merlin.

Gaius felt hot tears trickle down his face. This definitely beat having his buttocks taped together at high school for the ultimate in humiliating incidents!

Next on Misadventures of Merlin…

Just what do Merlin and Camilla have planned for Gaius?

Will Morgana reveal what she knows – or thinks she knows – about Merlin?

And the Leyland Brothers put on a hell of a show…