A/N: Hey! Thanks so much for your encouraging reviews! They really make my day! Had a wee bit of trouble with this chapter...kinda ironic considering it's called "Troubles" but anyway... enjoy!
Chapter 18- Troubles
Uther ran a wearied hand over his lined face as he sat in his cold throne, alone in the Great Hall. Arthur had now been missing all day.
Uther sighed, and tried not to think of what might happen to him, reminding himself that Arthur was perfectly capable of looking after himself. Yet, it was hard to do so when sorcerers and their treachery filled his mind.
Why had he done it? Where had he gone?
Uther tormented himself with these thoughts over and over again. Why would Arthur abandon Camelot in its hour of need? His son was no coward, he knew that.
Many eye-witnesses had seen Arthur galloping out of Camelot that morning as though the Devil himself was behind him, fully armoured and armed, a look of determination on his face. He had not told anyone where he was going, or why.
Except...Sir Leon had come to him, telling him that Arthur had declared his intentions to leave to 'find someone who will help us'. Uther had no idea what he had meant, what other allies were there? All the kingdoms Uther had made peace with refused to come to help Camelot, claiming their 'Mutual Assistance Policy' did not apply to magical wars. Uther cursed them bitterly, he had always known alliances were a waste of time, mere words on a sheet of paper, they didn't mean anything.
The sun had long ago set, yet Uther could still hear the frantic goings-on throughout the castle. Smiths in the town still hammered away, Knights could be heard training in the arena, horses neighed as they were newly shod, servants scurried about, messengers came and went...the sound of war was everywhere.
One thought bothered him more than anything, the argument he had had with Arthur just prior to his leaving. Arthur had been proclaiming to the entire Royal Court that sorcerers had joined Cendred's army, after a tip-off by Merlin, of all people. It unnerved Uther, thinking about how confident Arthur had been on Merlin's reliability. Uther scoffed, Merlin could not be trusted, he was a sorcerer. Magic and trust did not go hand in hand.
It disturbed him. Had Arthur been manipulated? Had Merlin bewitched him in some way? He had assumed Arthur had taken his own view on Merlin's treachery, he had never dreamed that there was any doubt in the matter on Arthur's side. Why did Arthur defend him so vehemently?
Uther felt anger. How dare a sorcerer try to coerce his son! It was the only explanation. Merlin had always acted the faithful servant, Arthur must still have some of his old trust in him. Arthur could be so naïve, so trusting...he dreaded to think what the outcome of this would be. Merlin could only have lured him away for some specific purpose, and Uther could only guess at what that might be.
Uther also felt anger at his son. He had abandoned Camelot, their best fighter, the one everyone in the city looked up to and admired and respected, without a second thought. Did he have that much trust in Merlin? Was Arthur corrupted? He pushed that thought aside immediately. Arthur would never betray his kingdom, he was loyal, brave and just. Uther was exceedingly proud of him, and he found himself regretting the fact he had never told him that enough. He knew Arthur would be a great king one day, even better than himself, who he knew only too well was prone to unjustness and ruthlessness, especially when faced with magic.
His anxiety for his son increased. He knew, that even if Arthur were to return, it was all too likely he would be killed in the war. Uther could see no hope. If sorcerers had indeed joined the army, all hope was lost. His kingdom would fall.
Uther held his face in his hands. Everyone in Camelot would perish, they would all suffer at Cendred's hands. Perhaps this was all his own doing, his harshness with sorcerers and all who practised magic. He remembered the words Morgana had often told him, that how instead of destroying his enemies he was only creating more, his ruthlessness had turned people against him, his own vindictiveness would be his downfall.
For the first time, Uther saw what she meant. He almost agreed with her.
The sound of the large oak doors being crashed open brought him back to the present with a jolt. He sat upright and hurriedly composed his face into a look of control. It would not do to have the men see their leader in a moment of weakness.
A red-faced messenger ran to him, his armour askew, panting for breath.
"Sire, Sire! Cendred's armies have now crossed the border and have began attacking the outer villages! The will arrive at the city before sunrise! They are here my Lord!"
He fell back, having delivered his message, panting heavily.
Uther frowned.
"How are they getting here so quickly? The border is many days journey."
"Through magic my Lord." The messenger looked frightened at giving such a reply. "They were reported to cross the border at sunset, then they attacked a small village, and the next report we have of them was another attack on a village twenty miles away, just ten minutes later. Magic is obviously aiding them, shortening their journey."
Uther nodded, rage bubbling in his blood. Magic had no good purpose.
"How do we know this? The messengers could not possibly have reached here from the borders."
The messenger nodded in agreement.
"Through a new communication system my Lord. Giant pyres across the kingdom are manned day and night, they are lit when in danger. On a clear night like this, they are easily seen."
Uther frowned.
"I was not aware such a system was in place."
"It was your son, my Lord. It was his idea. So we could have faster communications with the outer villages. Tonight it had proven invaluable."
Uther nodded to himself. Yes, that sounded like something Arthur would come up with, although he was slightly put-out Arthur had not informed him of this. Yet again, the safety of Camelot was Arthur's responsibility. He certainly had much ingenuity, another thing he rarely gave him credit for...
The messenger waited hesitantly.
"Your orders, my Lord?"
Uther stiffened. It was finally happening. The doom of Camelot was soon to be decided.
"Send word to completely mobilise our armies, outside the walls and inside. Send the Knights to me to await their orders. Man the defences and post sentries everywhere. We will be ready for them."
Mānfull marched with his fellow soldiers, on their way to Camelot. His spirits rose and he felt a fluttering in his stomach as he thought about the sun rising in a few hours. When the sun had risen, they would attack.
Finally after all these years, they had a chance to destroy Camelot and that poor excuse for a king. Mānfull's own father had been killed by Uther's men, he felt anger surging inside of him at the thought of him. For too long Camelot had been allowed to grow strong, for too long it was allowed to swell its numbers and army. It had now gotten too big for its boots. Uther was arrogant if he thought he would be allowed to get away with waging war on Cendred all those years ago, completely unprovoked. Mānfull's own kingdom had been peaceful, living in harmony with the surrounding kingdoms when Uther took his arrogance too far, trying to extend his own lands, attacking innocent villages and slaughtering their inhabitants. Then his ban on magic, had many innocent citizens in Cendred's kingdom being persecuted and killed. Mānfull's blood boiled in anger. No longer.
The Peace Treaty had been an excellent move on the part of Cendred. A false alliance, to provide time to allow him to rebuild his armies, regain his strength. Uther was a fool. He had been deceived and tricked, made to look gullible and weak. Had he really thought words on a sheet of paper would be enough to save his own skin?
Mānfull sniggered. Camelot would soon get its comeuppance.
The men whispered excitedly, none could wait till they reached Camelot, their blue tunics almost black in the night. In only a few hours, they would have their revenge, Camelot would be destroyed, and it's savage evil inhabitants wiped form the face of the earth. The men in the armies, the ones who called themselves soldiers and Knights; they would suffer, as the innocent of their kingdom had suffered. They were pure evil, no mercy, compassion or goodness. It was said their red tunics glowed in the heat of battle, a fire nothing could quench. It was said they died their tunics with the blood of their enemies. Innocent blood. All that would change. Now they were more powerful.
Mānfull heard with satisfaction the distant screams in the night through the forest. It meant the other legion had been successful. His comrades were attacking every village they came across, burning houses, crops, cutting down everyone in their path. No one was to be spared. As none had been spared when it had been the same situation reversed. Everyone would die.
Mānfull smiled to himself. Camelot would fall. And he would be watching as it did.
He noticed one of the sorcerers walk past him. Each legion had been assigned four sorcerers to defend them, creating magical shields, preventing the enemy from even touching them, and magically transporting them through the lands of Camelot in the bat of an eyelash. They were not powerful enough to take them there in one go, yet, one night's intermittent marching was certainly better than three days of solid marching, at least when they arrived in Camelot they would have strength enough to fight. Mānfull grinned. The people of Camelot had no chance.
Byrne strode purposefully past one of the soldiers, grinning idiotically to himself. Fools he thought. Mindless sheep, believing the lies told to them by their parents, the propaganda by the king. But he did not resent that. These gullible idiots were much easier to command when they offered no resistance. And who was he to resent these lies, as long as they convinced the men to fight, there was no harm. They were to his advantage.
Byrne snorted as he thought about how excited all the men were. As if they could actually make a difference! He had allied himself with Cendred for only one reason, his own gain. He had wanted Camelot to be destroyed, made to pay for the suffering of his people. Cendred had wanted Camelot destroyed because he was a greedy pig, ogling lands that were not his, still smarting from the terrible war that had pursued his previous attempts to invade Camelot. Cendred was a weak and foolish man, yet their agendas were so similar, it appeared to his advantage to join him.
Byre had planned on attacking Camelot with just his own sorcerers, yet, he realised the battle could not have been won. His followers were loyal and fierce, but none of them had extreme power. Camelot would not have fallen. However, if there was an army at the gates of Camelot, if Uther was distracted...it would enable him to penetrate Camelot's defences. He could reach the king, holed up in his stronghold, and once he had the king, he had the city. It would be in his power. He would kill Uther, and all those who served him. He would rule the city, restoring magic to the lands, bringing it back to it's former glory. He would get rid of Cendred, and he would be left, more powerful than ever, with no one opposing him. It had been a dream almost twenty years in the making, it would not fail.
But Byrne was disturbed by one thing only. Emrys. It had always been his intention to recruit Emrys to the cause. He had waited and waited for years, until the day when it was prophesied he would appear. Emrys had been a disappointment, barely more than a boy, idiotic in his looks and responses, ignorant, careless and not the fierce warrior he had expected. But, when Byrne had seen the full extent of his power, the day he killed the Griffin, he had known, he had seen the true power in the boy, and believed him to be pliable, easy to manipulate. But it had not turned out so.
He felt anger rising inside of him as he remembered the boy's refusal. How could he defend Camelot after everything it had done! He himself had suffered personally at the hands of Uther. He was a traitor to his own people.
It had annoyed him no end that he had had to remove Emrys' magic. Such talent...wasted. But he had been reassured at the thought of all that magical energy being stored in the Crystal of Scinnlāc, where he could absorb it into his own magical reserves in time. He would be in possession of so much power...
Byrne felt rage rising within him once more. Morgana had betrayed him. She had somehow managed to go against her vow, break the magical bond between them, he had not thought it possible in one so weak as her. She had restored Emrys' magic, it was the only way Emrys could have travelled to meet Arthur in the forest. He made a mental note to make her pay for her betrayal.
His hands shook as he once again remembered their reconciliation. Was Arthur a fool? Taking back a sorcerer into his trust? One who had betrayed him? He had worked so hard in separating them, alienating them, trying to show Emrys it was his true destiny to protect his own people, not run after some pathetic prince, hoping fruitlessly one day to convince him magic was good.
He had failed. Arthur had forgiven Emrys, something Byrne did not understand. Why would he do that? But he did not waste time in contemplating this, all that mattered was that Emrys had allied himself with Camelot. And this was not to be taken lightly. Although Emrys was just one sorcerer, he was extremely powerful, prophesied to become the greatest who ever lived. Byrne cursed himself for not killing the boy when he had the chance, Uther, who had previously seemed so weak in comparison was now considerably stronger. Emrys would have told Arthur about the sorcerers in the army, the element of surprise was now lost. And if Emrys had convinced the other Druids to fight...
No, Byrne shook his head. The were too weak to condone violence. They would never fight. Although most of them would refuse to fight against Uther on grounds of a non-violence policy, they would never ally themselves with Uther. Byrne was grateful for this, it would make everything much easier. The fools, he thought, pacifism is weak. It was no wonder his people had been overrun over the years, they refused to stand up for themselves, to unite to overthrow Uther.
Byrne's only hope was that Uther would simply order Emrys and all other Druids to be killed on sight, regardless of what side they were on. He was so arrogant, he could not recognise enemy from friend. He would never consent to their assistance. Theirs was a hopeless case.
But wait...Byrne stopped suddenly. Perhaps there was another way to prevent Emrys from fighting. Byrne smiled cruelly. He would stop Emrys ever reaching Camelot. He would still be weak from losing his magic, nobody would be able to recover that quickly, perhaps he had a chance...
Byrne was decided. Emrys was a thorn in his side, a constant annoyance. But that would not last for much longer.
Merlin looked around nervously in the dark shadows in the trees, seeing enemies leap out everywhere. He felt exposed.
He walked beside Arthur, his armour gleaming in the moonlight, casting his eyes around warily. The Druids had set out for Camelot almost an hour before, no one spoke, or did anything else other than walk. Everyone's faces were solemn and reserved, none more so than Fyrmest's who looked graver than Merlin had ever seen him. The only ones who seemed to have the remotest inclination to fight were the warriors. They had once been peace loving, but it seemed, when the war paint came on, they were changed, and eager to fight. They had no reservations.
Merlin sighed, amazed at the upheaval in all of them. Was it only yesterday when everything had seemed so peaceful, was it only yesterday Byrne had betrayed them?
He observed Arthur closely, watching his eyes flicker constantly to Morgana, who was further ahead with the warriors, a slight frown on his face.
Merlin had to hold in his laughter. Arthur's face when he had seen Morgana's 'new look' had been hilarious. A mixture of shock, embarrassment, anger, outrage and well...just plain shock. The ensuing argument also had been funny. Merlin shook his head as he remembered how absurdly protective Arthur was of Morgana; didn't he realise she could look after herself? But he too felt a small sensation of worry. The fact that Morgana could not use her own magic disturbed him, he wished she knew how, it would set his mind at rest to know she was not defenceless against sorcerers. He knew Byrne's anger at her would be tumultuous. Merlin had grown closer to Morgana over the last day, he was viewing her now in a different light. Now they were no longer Lady and servant, they were equals. Well...almost; Morgana's recent promotion to acting Elder had thrown things off slightly. But now she knew who he was, he felt more at ease around her, no longer feeling the intense guilt he had felt in Camelot as he hid his identity from her.
A snapping twig drew his attention. He peered out into the gloom, but could see nothing. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and he felt uncomfortable, as though someone was watching them. He tried to reassure himself, telling him that some animal had probably made the noise, but he could not shake off the feeling that something was following him. His magical senses were telling him so.
He reached out with his magic, trying to sense if something was there, but the intense magic in the surrounding forest made it impossible to distinguish anything. The forest was teeming with life and magic.
He tried to put this at the back of his mind, but it still nagged away at him. He turned around to look at Arthur, surely if there was something there Arthur, the most skilled huntsman and tracker in Camelot, would have heard it?
But Arthur's attention was distracted. He was looking intensely at the ground, deep in thought. Merlin cleared his throat trying to indicate he wanted to talk, but Arthur did not hear him. Merlin tried calling him softly, not wanting to raise his voice amongst the silent Druids, but still Arthur ignored him. He tried pulling on his tunic, still no response.
Merlin sighed. There was only one option left.
He poked Arthur sharply in the back of the head, so strongly it pushed his whole head forward and yelled in his ear "ARTHUR!"
Arthur jumped about a foot in the air, his wide eyes betraying alarm.
"What? What? What is it? What's happened?" He frantically yelled, as Druids around him turned to watch the pair of them, startled by the loud noise.
"Did you hear anything?"
Arthur stopped looking alarmed, and looked seriously annoyed.
"Yes Merlin, I heard an extremely annoying idiot yell into my ear so loudly I'm probably deafened for life."
"It wasn't that loud, and besides it's your fault for letting yourself be distracted. I meant, did you hear someone in the trees. I thought I heard someone following us."
Arthur sighed.
"Since when have you ever been a good tracker Merlin? It was probably a deer or a fox or a rabbit or something stupid. Surely you can defend yourself against a rabbit? There's no need to be so jumpy."
Merlin fell silent, annoyed. He could defend himself against Afancs, Griffins, Questing Beasts, flying gargoyle things and dragons, but noooo Arthur thought he couldn't defend himself against a rabbit. Then again, rabbits had always creeped him out...
He tried once again to shake off that paranoid feeling. Arthur was probably right, it didn't seem out of the realms of possibility that there may actually be forest creatures in a forest. He was probably just being daft, as always.
Merlin turned back to Arthur.
"What were you thinking about so intently anyway? It's not like you to be so deep."
Brushing aside the insult Arthur replied:
"Camelot. How are we going to get there?"
"Through the magic of feet Arthur."
Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Don't you understand? How far away are we from Camelot? I've travelled to every corner of the kingdom, studied maps for hours, nowhere I've been seems remotely like this forest."
Merlin thought for a moment.
"Yeah, so?"
Arthur waved his hands in frustration.
"If this forest is nowhere I've been in Camelot then that means we're probably in some other kingdom, God knows where. Which means, we have to try and get out of this kingdom, whichever one it is, find our way to my kingdom crossing over what could be many other kingdoms, until we can even get to the border! And remember, it takes three days to go from Camelot to Ealdor, on the border, which means, that whenever we find our way to the right kingdom, we still have at least three days to get to Camelot. And seeing as Cendred's armies were on the border this morning they already have a huge head-start, which means, by the time we arrive in Camelot it will probably already be a crater in the ground! We don't even know where we are! We could be hundreds of miles away, we have no chance of getting to Camelot in time!"
Arthur said all of this in a great rush, as though this had been weighing on his mind for a while. Merlin didn't know what to say to him. He too had noticed the flaw in the plan, he honestly had no idea how everyone was going to get to Camelot in time. He could simply Transport there, but the majority of the Druids could not, and Merlin doubted he had the energy to Transport them all there individually as he had done with Arthur.
As it turned out, it was Fyrmest who offered the words of comfort.
"Do not despair, young Pendragon. All is not lost. We are, in fact not too far from the border now. Cendred's men only have a few hours head-start on us. We may yet catch them up."
"And if we don't?" Arthur did not look convinced.
Fyrmest smiled weakly.
"We do not yet have the authority to judge on what will happen and what will not. As of yet, anything is open to us. Some opportunity may present itself. Always the unexpected comes when it is just that, unexpected. Do not give up hope. There is no room for despair or defeat, until the life leaves our bodies. We do not know what is coming, therefore to give up all hope now is pointless."
Arthur fell silent as Fyrmest's words, contemplating them.
"How can you have so much faith in the world?"
Fyrmest looked at him in earnest.
"Because, Arthur, I have seen the world. There is good, and there is evil. Life, you cannot predict, it may seem hopeless now, but so it seemed to every young man who marched into battle. Not all of them perish. Many live, despite the odds."
Arthur once again looked down at his feet, seemingly unnerved by Fyrmest's intense gaze.
Merlin said nothing, only allowed Arthur some time to think. Arthur didn't need his aimless blabbering.
However, once again, he heard a slight noise amongst the trees, and his wariness rose once again.
Something was definitely there.
Then he felt his whole body freeze as he heard a high cold voice in his mind.
"Hello Emrys."
Merlin almost stopped in shock. Byrne.
"What do you want?"
He looked around him in alarm, but no one else seemed to have heard Byrne's voice. He continued walking, trying not to alarm anyone else, at least until he knew what he wanted.
"The usual, Camelot destroyed, Uther's head on a plate, you...the list is endless. But at this present moment I require only your company, for a...pleasant talk you might say."
"Like I believe you. What are you really after?"
"I see you're not to be dissuaded Emrys, that is a pity."
"How so?"
"Well, perhaps maybe because I'm standing about six feet away from you, ready to kill your beloved prince."
Merlin felt a flicker of fear cross his face. He looked around wildly, but could see no one concealed in the gloom.
"You can't. I won't let you. Your power is no match for mine."
He heard Byrne laugh softly.
"You may feel like all your old strength had returned, but I assure you it has not completely. It is erratic and not completely tame at the moment. But anyway, I do not speak of a physical attack. Perhaps Morgana has already become aware of the memory I placed inside her mind and the spell I cast; the spell that prevents her from entering another's mind. It exemplifies her magic so much it will consume her, as the spell becomes active. She could not survive an attack like that."
Merlin secretly disagreed, knowing that Morgana had indeed survived this attack on her mind after sending him to Camelot, but he chose not to reveal this to Byrne. He did not want him to know just how strong Morgana was. He allowed him to continue.
"My power over the minds of others has always been great. I excel in using my mind as my main weapon. It has been a great asset over the years, implanting spells in the minds of my enemies, preventing them from doing what I do not wish them to. It has been a source of great annoyance, these last few years, using my mind for only primitive mental communications, using my mind to speak so often as I am cursed to silence, I had almost forgotten to use it properly."
Merlin did not like how this conversation was going.
"My mind is right now fixed on the mind of Arthur, reading his foolish thoughts. Though I admit, he is justified in his despair, you will never reach Camelot in time, but that is not what I am getting at.
At the slightest provocation from you, I can reach into his brain, cast an...unpleasant spell, and kill or incapacitate him. A very useful trick don't you think? Of course, I would cause him a great deal of pain first, just for fun."
Merlin's eyes widened in alarm. Was that even possible?
"You're doubting are you? Shall I experiment?"
At that moment, Arthur threw his hands to his head, yelling in pain, his eyes screwed up.
"Arthur!" Merlin yelled, trying to help him. But almost immediately, it ceased and Arthur opened his eyes, breathing deeply.
"It's all right Merlin. I just had a splitting headache for a moment, that's all."
Arthur was murmuring, rubbing his temples.
Merlin turned away from Arthur.
"All right, you have my attention. What do you want me to do?"
Merlin could almost hear Byrne's smug grin through his next words.
"Make some excuse to get away. Come to me, through the forest. Keep walking until I find you. I only want to have a little discussion with you, at least, it will only be a discussion as long as you comply with my proposals. Do NOT tell anyone what is happening, I will know if you do. And pretty soon Arthur will have pretty much more than a headache."
Byrne's ominous words slowly faded from his mind, as Merlin tried to think desperately what to do. He knew he couldn't trust Byrne, walking to find him would be suicide at the very least, yet, what choice did he have? He couldn't risk any harm coming to Arthur. And Merlin knew he was more powerful than Byrne, at least he would not be walking blindly into a trap.
Arthur looked at him in concern,
"Merlin, are you all right? Something's troubling you."
Merlin shook his head, still trying to think of an excuse to leave him.
"No Arthur, I'm fi-" he stopped mid-sentence. "Actually yeah, I uh...kinda..need a bit of privacy...if you know what I mean...you know..."
Arthur wrinkled his nose. "Yes Merlin I know perfectly well what you mean. That's disgusting. Trust you to think of your bladder at a time like this."
"Hey! It's perfectly natural!"
"Just go Merlin, and don't be long."
"I won't be," sad Merlin, hoping fervently that it was true. He made his way into the trees, hopping from foot to foot bent over slightly for dramatic effect.
As soon as the Druids were out of sight, Merlin straightened up and proceeded further into the trees cautiously, expecting Byrne to leap out at him.
Nothing happened.
Merlin was getting slightly fed up, when he finally saw Byrne emerge from behind a giant tree.
Merlin tensed immediately.
"Well done Emrys. I knew you would come with the right kind of provocation. I must say your excuse was...original."
Merlin felt hatred inside of him for the man standing so casually in front of him.
"Just tell me, what is it you want?"
Byrne smiled.
A/N: Okayy, before you all get annoyed at me for another cliffhanger just know it wasn't supposed to be one! I just got carried away writing too much on the OC Pov's that if I had kept going this chapter would have been about 10 000 words and sorry, but it's just too late at night for that! I hate stopping and starting writing, I lose my train of thoughtt. My chapter plans NEVER work! Sorry...I promise I'll update tomorrow! Please review!