Part 15

Out of The Trees

'Merlin?' shouted Arthur swinging around to look behind him. The night was dark and the distance a flickering light was moving towards them.

'Sire, Prince Arthur,' came Gawain's voice.

Gawain, what are doing here? I heard Merlin, where is he, is he alright?'

'I'm here Arthur,' came a voice at his side. Merlin held his arm. 'I'm here.'

Arthur clasped his hand over Merlin's 'I can't tell you how good it is to hear your voice.' laughed Arthur. Gawain's torch lit them and the two friends looked at each other with foolish grins, like boys escaping from some dangerous escapade.

'I thought I'd killed you,' said Arthur gravely.

'You did!' The Prince frowned deeply. 'Did you feel anything?'

'No, not much Arthur, No.' Merlin reassured him even though it were not strictly true.

Arthur was silent for a little while. 'I don't know what to say. Can you forgive me Merlin?'

'There's nothing to forgive I know it wasn't about me. Although you did accuse me of a few things……' Arthur winced.

'But really I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, that's al'

Arthur could not suppress the huge smile on his face and could only nod at his friend who indeed stood before him alive and well.

'I thought you were imprisoned forever,' said Merlin, looking down at his feet.

I realised as soon as I found that Cabal's body was gone. I realised that it was another test and when I heard your voice…'

Gawain prompted them to follow him back to the Smithy. Arthur touched Merlin again as they moved off, he needed the physical contact to make sure he was real, the last time he touched him the coldness of death was already setting in. They continued talking as they walked, Gawain moved slightly ahead to give them some privacy, like Rupert he understood the depth of their friendship and did not judge them.

'So how did you do it? That man in the Forest spoke with your voice, just now, as everything slid into darkness. Arthur stopped and narrowed his eyes, ' It was you hunting in Heaf just now?'

'Why would you think that?'

'I said, I heard your voice, only someone else was speaking with it.'

'What did he look like this other me?' asked Merlin.

' The most incredible man I've ever seen and quite the perfect hunter, so…. not at all like you.' Merlin didn't rise to it.'

'Merlin,' said Arthur lowering his voice, 'I know it was you. Arthur looked over to Gawain who was in earshot.' You better tell me later,' he whispered.

'I didn't do it Arthur.' Merlin said insistently.

'No? queried the Prince unconvinced.

'No, and soon you will meet the one who did.'

*

As Lillian was sending Rupert and Merlin into The Forest, Brand went ahead to the Smithy with Ayden and Gawain. He made ready to greet whoever walked over the moor into the real world. Rupert stumbled out first, just as Merlin had done the night before, but he was in much worse shape. Brand and Gawain half carried him into the house and stretched him out on the bed. Gawain looked worried and demanded to know if this was usual. Brand had to admit it was not. 'I must look for the Prince,' said Gawain reluctantly, 'please look after Sir Rupert.' Then he took a torch and walked out towards the moor.

'Doesn't look right,' murmured Brand. Ayden climbed up and put his had on Rupert's brow, his eyes shone gold, No, Ayden, not him, he would not welcome it. Ayden shrugged and climbed down. Rupert stirred and made a low sound as though he were in pain.

Brand sat by the bed watching Rupert closely, he had to admit that Lillian had never done anything like this before, perhaps they had gone too far, mimicking the power of the trees. Perhaps it had not worked and yet this man was here so he must have passed through.

The blacksmith raised his head at the sound of laughter and quickly went to the door. Laughter was a good sign. Gawain, Arthur and Merlin walked together out of the night. They were tired and careworn but their faces were alight with happiness and triumph. Brand too would have leapt for joy if he could leap. 'She did it them Emrys ,' he said. Arthur looked up at the giant of a man, his huge silhouette framed by the doorway, almost blotting out the light entirely, then he looked at Merlin and mouthed the words' Who is Emrys?' Merlin pointed to himself apologetically.. Brand acknowledged Arthur quickly, Welcome sire he said, then turning to Merlin 'your friend the knight seems to be in trouble.'

All three men entered the house. Arthur went to Rupert who now lay still and pale on the cot.

'What has happened to him?' demanded Arthur.

'He was went into Heaf to bring you out sire,' said Brand.

'He was Cabal Arthur,' said Merlin gently..

Arthur looked at Merlin with disbelief,. ' He looked down on his stricken mentor and again to the faces that watched him now: the black haired stranger, Gawain and Merlin. You all did this for me?' Arthur wondered if he could ever be worthy of such devotion. His father had brought him up to expect self sacrifice but Arthur the man felt keenly the valour of these men, willing to face danger and death for him even when he had failed them. This was a debt Arthur would forever remember. And that he would repay tenfold.

Gawain, who had stayed in the doorway turned and went back out into the dark. His eyes were bright with tears. Magic was too frightening for him. He didn't want to be any part of it in the first place and now it had all gone wrong.

*

Lillian had never cast a spell so complex, her head throbbed and she felt as though she walked a little above the ground. She had done her best to consult the Trees of Heaf and found no enmity in them. Lillian was not a true sorceress; all her power came from the forest. Their role as guardians gave Brand and Lillian, and even Ayden a kind of communion with the trees that had grown stronger through the years. Brand did not use it. 'Rather trust the power of my arm, is all he would say about it. If there was anything Lillian would miss when she was free it was this.

She rode her horse hard back to the Smithy, she wanted to see the two she had sent into Heaf, it was a complicated game , holding the illusion especially when emotions were running so high. She was concerned about the polite one. He was strong, but to him magic was an enemy, his body may have accepted it but his mind: that was a different matter.

When she arrived at the house she knew straight away something was wrong. Gawain sat outside alone, his head in his hands, the cat winding its way around his legs and mewing loudly. 'Is all well?' she asked. Gawain glared at her. 'Don't speak to me witch,' he said spitefully.

Lillian ran into the house. The Prince was standing over the bed and Merlin was there too. The knight was sleeping or else unconscious, he did not move but she could see his chest rise and fall unevenly.

She went to him and laid her hand over his heart. She felt a steady beat, but his breath came in stops and starts.' She hung her head in relief.

'He is strong,' she said to Arthur, 'he has a strong heart. He will dream his way out and then sleep: we must leave him to it. She turned to Arthur and Merlin t. She put one hand on Merlin's arm and held the other out to Arthur as though he was a commoner. Arthur took it gladly. 'Sire,' she said. 'I am Lillian, welcome. We have a lot of work to do.' And with that she called to Brand to light a fire in the forge.

'You have to find the stone she said with a nod to Arthur then touching Merlin's hand affectionately, she added 'and you must destroy it. Then we can all leave this place.'

* Rupert of Ficere

His boy was fine, so fine that Rupert could not take his eyes off him. He was not like him at all but rather the image of his namesake his brother Cénean. It gladdened his heart that it was so, because his brother had died many years ago and it seemed as though the gods had blessed them with his image. The child was barely three and yet had such strength and knowing that he craved to already take himself off into adventures and was so persistent that someone had to follow him everywhere, someone he tolerated. Rupert didn't mind. He managed his lands at Ficere well and supported the people on them. He was a fair master and men worked willingly in his service. Life was peaceful and there was plenty. He had no need to busy himself just for show so he watched his boy.

But Sian, his wife, was worried. She did not understand the wanderlust of the child. Rupert thought that it was partly that she was so young and a woman unused to the nature of men and boys but also he feared she believed that Cénean would share his uncle's fate since they were so alike in all else.

'Can you not find someone to guard him My Lord?' asked Sian one day.

'Come Sian do not call me that.'

Sian bristled slightly, she liked calling him that, he was twelve years older than her and she felt protected when she addressed him so. She leant over to him affectionately and kissed him.

'But My Lord you are and ever will be, so I shall not desist.'

Rupert smiled, truthfully each time she named him Lord his heart swelled, for it was a show of her true love and devotion and the vows she had made him.

'Find someone to guard him I beg you. I cannot bear it.'

'He will tolerate none but you or I and even I cannot keep track of him. Short of locking him up I don't know what is to be done.'

'Lock him up then,' said Sian desperately.

'I will not my love,' answered Rupert smiling. He ran his hand over her black hair and lifted it from her tearful face. 'I have been wondering about letting Brandóm mind him.'

Sian laughed mirthlessly. 'That's typical of you Rupert, the dog?'

'He's the most intelligent animal there is and he can follow him anywhere, and he is big enough to bring him home. Cénean will love it, he won't even realise he is being watched.'

' Really, you mean to make a hunting dog a nursemaid?' Sian gave him a sidelong look. 'You are serious aren't you?'

'I think it will work Sian. Trust me in this. I know boys and I know that dog. I have raised him from a pup. He even saved my life remember? At the battle of Exan, he took that terrible wound to the head.'

'Very well,' said his wife cautiously. 'Try it then. But watch them for a time, for a good time please.'

The child and the hound were inseparable. Brandóm lay at Cénean's door all night and at his side through every meal. The boy hung about the animal's neck and wrestled him to the floor but Brandóm was a model of patience, as though he understood that this was a young thing and not fully aware of its actions. Never once did Rupert have fear for his son. Indeed sometimes he feared the dog might suffer at the child's rough hands.

Sian was gradually won over as she watched the two together, the great rust coloured hound and her black haired boy. It seemed truly as though the dog was an elder brother to him and she lost her fearfulness.

All summer the boy grew into his life of play and discovery. He was now four and wandered even farther, but the parents did not fret. Each afternoon Brandóm brought the boy safely home. Until one day in the middle of summer, a long day that still held the noonday heat, the boy and the dog did not return. Rupert took his men out, following the paths he knew they took, visiting the stream and the waterfall, the copse and the blue stones that stood at Lygetorn. It was here they found them amongst the standing stones in the beginning twilight. His boy lying still as death, the earth, darkened with his blood. Above him the hound, jaws still wet and bloody, standing over him head lowered as the men approached.

At first the dog did not recognise them but growled menacingly. 'Leave him Brandóm,' demanded Rupert firmly, his voice bearing no trace of emotion. Brandóm whimpered and walked towards Rupert. He looked up at him as though he were pleased with what he had done as though a bird was fetched or a command obeyed.

'My Lord,' said one of his men, breaking him out of his daze, 'there is no sign of a struggle, no other prints of man or beast here.'

Rupert looked at the dog, now sitting quietly at his feet and left him where he sat and knelt beside his boy. There was a great gash at his throat, his little body had not lasted long, 'perhaps he did not suffer,' thought Rupert coldly. Rupert did not feel anything. These were just words he would repeat to his anguished wife, the sweet girl he would have to plunge into misery. He felt numb and sick, he felt as though Time itself had shifted and he was now in an upside down world, a place he did not want to be. Without word or expression he returned to the dog. He took its huge head in his hands and it leaned into his touch, he jerked the head swiftly sideways. The dog went limp and fell silently against him. He let its head go and stepped over him to lift his son's body.

*

Brand gathered everyone in the forge. He smiled at Lillian and then took on a formality that seemed to come from another age, when he had perhaps been more than a blacksmith. He addressed Arthur.

'Sire, we welcome you. Although we are master and mistress of our own household we have yet been in bondage to a ghost these three hundred years, But today, allegiance we are free to give, we give to you, Prince Arthur of Camelot.' Brand gave a low bow and sat down, indicating that Arthur should speak.

'I thank you both for your kindnesses and I suspect for more, that I will hear of. But here I am not a prince. I am just as you are, a seeker of peace and freedom. I would not have you call me sire, I would rather earn your trust and any allegiance by my worth, though I am honoured that you offer it.'

Brand and Lillian smiled at him in appreciation. He went on. 'Please let us all talk freely and work together. I do not pretend to have an advantage over any of you but that I have a strong arm and I hope, courage. I would welcome the chance to find out what has been happening here and to tell you of what I have surmised from the book.

'Aidith's journal! exclaimed Merlin, 'of course you had it Arthur'

.

'What is this book Merlin?' asked Brand.

'It is an account by the warrior Aidith, of her journey here and you are in it Brand,' said Arthur, drawing it from his pocket and handing it to him.

Brand and Lillian examined the book. 'Can we read this tonight?' asked Brand.

'It took me two days!' warned Arthur.

'That's not bad for you.' whispered Merlin. Arthur shot him a look of mock annoyance.

Brand stood again and shook the Prince's hand, he could not have been more delighted in Arthur for truly he did not bear the yoke of any man kindly.

'Well I think we should all get some sleep and gather in the morning,' he said 'There is plenty of room for you in the barn.'

Lillian handed Merlin some blankets and a basket of food. 'It's a warm night, you should be fine in there,' she said. 'And here, not that you need it,' she said handing them a flagon of wine, 'you both look dead on your feet already.'

*

Lillian opened the door quietly. Gawain had fallen asleep in the chair. She went over to Rupert and put her hand against his forehead. He was slightly feverish. She moved the blanket and carefully pulled up his shirt. There was no wound on his chest but lifting his arm she found a livid mark on his side where he had been pierced. Although there was nothing embedded in the wound she recognised that he had been shot by an arrow, it was almost healed but still she wondered if it could be something he had sustained in the forest.

'What are you doing there?' Gawain grabbed her hand and she levelled her clear blue eyes at him calmly. 'He has been wounded…. see here?' she said showing him.

'But that is mending already,' said Gawain confused, 'he did not get hurt on the journey here.'

'Will you leave go of my hand Sir knight? Asked Lillian gently.

'Sorry' said Gawain distractedly and let her go.

'I think this is no ordinary wound, but one of his own making,' said Lillian.

'How so? He is not a man to do such a thing.'

'I do not mean it that way,' said Lillian, 'only that he allowed it to happen.'

'I don't understand you,' said Gawain sharply.

Lillian bathed Rupert's brow with a cloth and searched her medicine bag. 'You may not know him as well as you believe. Perhaps when he is well he will confide it to you.'

Gawain watched the woman as she returned her hand to Rupert's face and dampened his fever. He noticed how gentle she was, he had believed her to be a brute and hardly noticed how much kindness resided in her as well as power. He saw this now and could not help but mark her beauty. She caught him looking at her and laughed. 'Oh you see me now do you? She teased, 'you see me and not the sorcerer.'

I should not have spoken to you like that,' said Gawain chastened. Lillian observed the young man before her and was aware for the first time how like Arthur he was. Like him in everything but for his green eyes and a childish vanity she did not see in the Prince.

'Tis no matter, you were upset that is all. Now if you want to help him then you must get some sleep so you can tend him later, he will need to go easy and he will not want to. The wound is healing so it follows that he has found some peace. See his breath is even and he has a good colour.'

Lillian lent over and gave Gawain a motherly pat on the hand. He looked a little confused by her touch. 'I will look to his needs and you can sleep, over there in Ayden's bed.' She stood and with a turn of her hand gestured for him to get up and go to bed. Gawain obeyed.

*

Merlin started to fill the sacks with straw and Arthur stood for a moment watching him as he always did, but somehow this time it didn't feel right. He picked up a sack and started to copy him. His servant looked over and smiled.

'You might like to choose bigger handfuls otherwise it will be lumpy.'

'Right,' said Arthur doubtfully. 'I suppose I get to sleep on the one I make do I?

'Seems fair,' laughed Merlin.

'Merlin….' began Arthur. Merlin made a grunt in answer. 'You realise that you and I must talk.'

'Yes,' said Merlin stopping what he was doing. He was thankful that they were not face-to-face as he was blushing so violently. 'I suppose we do.'

'Are you…ready to do that?'

Merlin sighed. He turned and faced Arthur, 'I don't know if I'll ever be ready.'

'You're frightened.' stated Arthur with surprise and disappointment.

'No…no not really,' he gave Arthur a furtive look and the Prince responded with an agitated shake of the head.

'I just don't know where to start.' pleaded Merlin, 'there is so much to tell.'

'Well, I imagine that 'I am a sorcerer.' would be a good opening line Merlin!'

Merlin looked at him in astonishment. 'You know…you knew? How long have you known?'

'For certain? About five seconds ago.' The Prince couldn't help laughing at his friend's face, which wore a curious mixture of shock, disbelief and embarrassment.

'I suspected it when you told me about your father. You are a Drangonlord's son so I was pretty sure you must have inherited something from him.'

Merlin was at once joyful and terrified. He could not read what his friend was thinking. Arthur's voice carried little emotion except the disappointment that had made him cringe. Arthur looked up at him and saw again the fear in Merlin's eyes.

'Oh for god's sake Merlin! Have some faith in me.'

'It's alright then?'

'Well I wasn't sure how I felt about it at first, I must admit. I had visions of smuggling you out of Camelot and discovering that you had been casting spells on me…' He glared at Merlin under his eyebrows. 'You haven't have you?' Merlin smiled broadly and shrugged. 'I thought about it.' They laughed together in relief. It was all over! The big secret was out and it hadn't hurt one bit. Then suddenly Merlin lost all his humour, he turned away and started making the beds in earnest.

'We'd better get on,' he said, his voice betraying emotion. Arthur joined in finishing the sacks. 'What is it Merlin? He asked in a concerned whisper.

'It doesn't matter now.'

'How can it not matter, you just stopped hiding things from me, does it all start up again now!' Arthur was annoyed and frustrated. Merlin could do that to him as no one else could. Without looking up, Merlin answered him. His voice so quiet that Arthur had to move closer to hear him.

'My magic has left me. I'm just an ordinary man now, not a warlock anymore… you found out to late Arthur, to ever truly know me for who I am'

'How can that be?'

'I don't know,' said Merlin miserably, 'but when I tried to stop you in the forest I couldn't, that's why I grabbed your arm and you…' He fell silent and began to arrange the sacking mattress on the floor of the barn. Although there was lots of room he did not intend for them to sleep too far apart. The last few days had left them both edgy and vulnerable.

'What do Lillian and Brand say about it?'

'Really Arthur, I can't talk about it now, it makes me feel sick.'

'Alright..alright…let's eat now.' Arthur clapped him on the back.

'We'll find out what's going on Merlin.'

Merlin nodded mutely and threw the blankets over the sacking beds. Arthur grabbed the food basket. 'I could eat a horse!' Merlin looked up at him quizzically. 'Well no actually I couldn't.' he added with a smile.

They sat and ate by the light of tallow lamp. Its flickering flame was too low for them to properly see each other, if it were Merlin might have noticed tears in the Prince's eyes. What Arthur mourned for could not be guessed at but he would not weep again for many years.