- Nine -

The wind had picked up, bringing with it a dull fall of drizzle, that stung the eyes and settled heavy in the clothes. Uther ignored the way it clung to and clogged his eyelashes and kicked his horse on faster. Over the stallion's withers, Garth's body bounced with each stride that ate up the leaf-covered road.

Behind thundered the knights, Gorlois' destrier keeping step with the hindquarters of Uther's own. They rode at a blistering pace, back towards the flickering orange lights in the distance denoting Camelot's windows. Behind one of which Godwyn was slowly but surely dying, along with the long held peace between Camelot and Gawant.

The thought wrung a cry from the Prince. He spurred his horse on, asking more than he knew the animal could give, and cracked his reins for all the good it would do.

The drizzle drove on, the tall trees of the Darkling woods banking the hill above the road illuminated by the thin rays of a grey dawn breaking the distant cloud. Worry buzzed in Uther's head, every thought niggling and jabbing his considerable confidence with negativity and pessimism.

What if he was too late? What if Godwyn had already succumbed?

He gnashed his teeth in the foul weather, the thundering of hooves on the hard ground heralding the change in terrain to stone as he and his men rounded the bend in the road on approach to the city.

They could not afford to be too late.

"Gaius!"

The physician looked up, Vivienne's frantic call drawing him from his tome. Balinor did the same, halfway through leafing a page aside. Alice left the work table, hurrying to Godwyn's side.

The King's expression had become tight, his body shifting and twitching in deep discomfort. He began to cough.

Gaius rushed to his feet, shoving the bench back from his table in his hurry and joined Alice at the King's side.

Balinor looked from one healer to the other, stomach twisting itself in nervous knots. He remained still, aware that Gaius needed space to make his examination.

"Vivienne, step back, my dear."

She did as Gaius instructed, clasping her hands over her mouth. Her eyes never left Godwyn as Gaius listened to the man's heart, and checked his pupils.

"Gaius?" Alice watched him in uncertainty, lines of worry crossing her sweet face as the physician pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head.

"The poison has entered the final stage. Balinor's spell cannot stay its effects any longer."

"I had feared as much."

"Then that is it?" Vivienne let out a cry, "You must do something! There must be more you can do?!"

Sir Thomas took a step away from his spot banished against the wall. "If you can stop this," he began in a low, supplicating tone, "then you must. Please."

Gaius looked from Vivienne, to the knight, and back to his patient. There was little that could be done. The poison had progressed too far, done too much damage. He swallowed, and glanced at his apprentice. "Balinor, come and try to keep him still. Alice, assist me."

Balinor lay his book aside and pushed himself to his feet to lope over to Godwyn while Gaius and Alice retreated to the work table.

"Gaius." Alice braced herself on the head of the table, dipping her head to look the physician in the eye. "We have tried everything. There is nothing more can be done."

"We must continue to try." Gaius returned as evenly as he could muster.

"The poisoning has progressed too far. The amount he ingested to bring him to collapse, it is a miracle that his life has been sustained this long."

"I am aware."

Nothing more was said between them. Alice took the phial Gaius handed her, and examined the book he opened and turned to her that she may see what magic he wished her to place on whatever it was he now brewed.

Their preparations passed Balinor by. He halted at the head of Godwyn's bed, and gingerly laid his hands on the King's shoulders. He felt more than a little awkward. How was one meant to comfort a man? A dying man, at that? With one foot he drew Alice's chair to himself and sat down. He took a breath, and began to rub small circles on Godwyn's trapezii with his thumbs.

"It's alright." He murmured in a low tone, his voice gruff, more than comforting, he thought. "Be still."

His efforts made little difference. Godwyn's twitching and coughing graduating to ragged exhales and shallow gasps. Balinor murmured useless platitudes, himself growing more and more anxious by the moment.

Vivienne was there at Godwyn's side, taking his hand in both of hers and holding it tightly. Her fearful eyes met Balinor's, finding him to be in much the same state of terror as she.

Between them, Godwyn twitched, and began to convulse.

Balinor's breath hitched. "Gaius!"

The physician looked up, a flash of worry crossing his face to see the progression. He turned up the flame beneath the flask of straw-coloured liquid he had concocted, and willed it to work faster. "Turn him onto his side. Move the pillow further under his head. Keep speaking to him!"

Balinor paled further. With Vivienne's assistance, he managed to roll Godwyn onto his side and shift the pillow into a better position against the hard patient cot. That done, he stood and stared, aware of Vivienne's eyes on him begging him to do more, but feeling at a loss as to what. The King continued to seize, the strained, choking sounds he made terrible and painful to hear. Standing and watching, Balinor felt helpless, lost as to how to fix this. Any of it. He laid a hand on Godwyn's shoulder, careful not to hold the man down, and gently ran his other through the King's hair.

"Come on, Sire. Please be still..."

Godwyn jerked, and gave a particularly violent convulsion, his head slamming down on the pillow hard. Balinor took a breath, and gripped the King's shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, and tucked his chin to his chest, willing all of this to stop, to just go away and everything be as it was when Godwyn's party had first arrived. When everything was well. He wanted Godwyn to be well. He began to hum to himself.

Vivienne looked up, and watched him, able to see the terror he felt as keenly as that she felt deep down in the pit of her stomach. Her heart thudded in her chest, time seemed to drag by achingly slowly. Her own hand rested on Godwyn's ribs, her intention to offer what comfort she could. It felt weak, and feeble in the face of the man's increased thrashing.

Then, he no longer thrashed. His movements lessened, gentling to become slight twitches, and spasms. For a moment, she feared that it was all over. Fearful, she shifted her hand across his chest, pressing tight to his ribcage in search of some assurance that he was alive. She felt the small rise and fall of breaths below her hand, and the slow, irregular beat of a weak heart.

Relieved, she looked to Balinor. His low, melodic humming continued. She wondered at it a moment, equating it to a lullaby, that quiet, soothing sound rising from the trembling boy rubbing circles on the King's shoulder. She wondered if it was perhaps magic. Then Balinor blinked, his eyes opening enough for a glimpse of his irises. There was no gold in them, no glow of magic.

Gaius was with them suddenly, turning Godwyn onto his back and encouraging Balinor to sit the unconscious man up a little. He tilted a phial to Godwyn's lips.

Vivienne did not miss the glance the physician gave his assistant, unseen by Balinor as he held the King upright to swallow the mixture from the phial.

The liquid disappeared down Godwyn's throat. A few moments followed, filled only with the King's unchanging, ragged breaths. Gaius shook his head.

"It has no effect."

Sir Thomas stepped closer. "There must be something else?"

"That is all we can do." Gaius exhaled deeply, and sent a solemn, resigned look at the knight. "I am sorry."

All fell into silence. Balinor continued to unconsciously card his long fingers through Godwyn's damp hair, staring at the King with a feeling of deep sadness. Lord Godwyn did not deserve this.

The man's face was tight with pain, each breath punctuated by a quiet wheeze of discomfort. He twitched again, though they were lessening with time.

Sir Thomas coughed. He folded his arms around himself, and turned his head away from his dying King. "Physician. You are certain that there is nothing can be done?"

"There is nothing." Gaius conceded tightly.

"Then, if there truly is nothing. If there is no hope, then please. Do something to... to ease his passing. He is in pain."

Gaius raised his hand to his face, and rubbed at his eyes. He did not say anything.

Sir Thomas tried again. "You can do that, can you not?"

"I can."

"Then do so."

"I won't."

"Why?"

Gaius took a breath, and shook his head. "I will give no deadly medicine to any one if asked -"

"- nor suggest any such counsel.*" Balinor finished in a quiet voice, looking up at his mentor in understanding.

Gaius nodded, and turned his stare back on Sir Thomas.

The knight was incredulous. "You will not help him? None will harm you for assisting him. I ask as his friend, not as his subject!"

"We cannot." Gaius asserted sternly. "It will not be long for him, but we will not cause his death, nor assist in it in any way."

Sir Thomas did not say anything further. He nodded, but did not leave his position near Godywn's feet.

Silence descended on the chambers once more, only the pained breaths of Godwyn himself to break it. Balinor swallowed, and raised his eyes to meet Vivienne's. The Lady sobbed, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth. Tears spilt over her pale cheeks, unchecked as her other hand still clutched Godwyn's tightly.

No one spoke.

Balinor bit his lip, and grounded his stare on the top of the cot above Godwyn's head. What more could be done? They had tried all that was within their collective abilities. Now there was nothing could be done but sit quiet and listen to the pained breaths of a good man as he died.

Commotion outside drew his attention. Clattering in the courtyard below, echoing up around the physician's tower, the shouts of guards.

Vivienne sniffed and looked up. She rose from her chair and hurried to the stairs at the window, hitching her skirts up to climb and look out.

"It's Uther!" She called, looking from the window to Balinor still seated at Godwyn's head. He straightened and blinked, turning in surprise from her to the door.

Gaius did the same, Alice wringing her hands beside him.

Rushing footsteps on the stairs outside heralded the bang of the door as the Prince burst in, dripping wet. Gorlois followed closely behind, one hand on the hilt of his sword reflexively.

Uther paused briefly, and took a breath, Godwyn's state had deteriorated so much since he had seen him last. He noted the hopeful eyes on him suddenly, glancing around at the others in the chamber, before his own met Balinor's and he came back to himself.

"We have the assassin."

"Did he tell you what he had done?" Gaius demanded hurriedly, all propriety and deference forgotten in the situation.

Uther did not respond, the question sending him trawling back through the encounter in the Licburg, and the glaring lack of method mentioned by Garth.

"My Lord." Gaius prompted him.

Uther snapped back to reality, shaking his head hard. "No. He said nothing."

"Find out, Sire!"

"I-" He was interrupted by the entrance of Johfrit and Goveniayle behind him, the two knights bearing Garth's dead body between them.

Gaius stared at the Prince in disbelief. "You killed him!?"

"No!" Uther raked a hand back through his hair, his own hand going to the hilt of his sword in want of security. "He – he killed himself! I did not!"

A shuddering breath escaped Gaius. The physician shook his head slowly, his shoulders slumping as though beneath a great weight. "Then there is no hope. The means by which to save Godwyn have died with his assassin."

That oppressive silence descended once more, the atmosphere heavier than it was previously by some miracle. Uther glanced at Balinor, grateful for the sympathetic wince on his friend's face, but did not exchange words. For the first time in his life, he did not feel entitled to break a silence. He had failed.

The realisation seemed to be punctuated as Balinor looked away and resumed his soothing of Godwyn with quiet humming.

This was it, then? Godwyn was going to die. Edmund would be hanged. Even with the assassin it was likely that Camelot and Gawant would come to war. With Garth dead, there was no proving that he was Godwyn's murderer. The little bastard had won. Curse him.

Uther started, raising his head a little.

Curse?

Garth had said -

"Gaius!"

The physician snapped to attention, looking round from where he had drifted to supervise Johfrit and Goveniayle as they laid out Garth on the bench. Uther swallowed, and dropped his arms to his side. He took a confident step forward. "It's a curse. Godwyn is cursed."

Gaius did not ask how the Prince knew such a thing. He all but stumbled backwards under the realisation, and left the two knights be to run for the shelves and tear a book from them to begin leafing through.

"One moment!" He called to Sir Thomas, the knight having moved closer at the prospect of new hope. Alice went to the work table, waiting patiently for instruction, her heart constricting in her chest.

Exhausted suddenly, Uther collapsed into Vivienne's chair, his shoulders sinking with the release of tension that came with sitting down. He breathed a deep and long winded sigh, and lifted his head to find Balinor looking back at him from where the idiot still sat stroking Godwyn's hair.

The dishevelled peasant offered him a nod that spoke more than words ever could, winning a very small smile of thanks from the Prince.

"Took you long enough."

Uther snorted at that, and folded his arms over his chest.

Balinor smiled, and opened his mouth to speak when Gaius was with them seemingly from nowhere, holding his book up that Balinor could read the words inked within.

The language on the creased and yellowed page sent a quiver of unease through the young sorcerer, the implications of Gaius' actions in showing it to him difficult to misunderstand. Uncertain, he raised his eyes to meet his mentor's over the top of the book. "Gaius?"

"You need to speak the counter curse, Balinor." He jiggled the book lightly for emphasis, hoping to draw his assistant's attention back to it.

The boy blanched. "Me? What about-"

"This is no small spell. It is going to be physically taxing. Alice must be fit to perform the purging spell. The poison has spread so far through Godwyn's body that to remove it is in itself going to be no easy task. She will need all of her strength to do so."

Physically taxing? Balinor shook his head. "I don't know if I can."

"You can, my boy. Look at what you achieved before. It is because of you that Godwyn is still alive. You are capable of this, Balinor, and you must do it. We are losing him."

They were. Godwyn's breathing and movements were laboured, and continuing to deteriorate. Watching him, it was with a conflicted pang of guilt and elation that Balinor realised Gaius' words to be true. He had prolonged Godwyn's life to this point with his unintentional magic, but it was that same magic that was drawing out Godwyn's suffering now. The poison was killing him as slowly as it had travelled around his body. The man's prolonged pain was also his fault.

He drew deep, calming breaths, and squeezed his eyes shut. He had to do this, and he had to do it quickly.

Alice arrived on the opposite side of Godwyn from Uther, a phial in her hand. She gave Balinor an encouraging nod. He returned it shakily, and turned his eyes on the words of the counter curse.

With one last deep breath, he looked to Alice. "Ready?"

She nodded again. He leant forward and placed a hand on either side of Godwyn's head. Heart thumping three times as fast as the King's, he closed his eyes.

"Godas sylfym æld. Ádée þes mann fram sé nearusearu. Áflíeme sé wordgerne. Ácwiðe sé áwierigung!*"

At the flash of gold in Balinor's eyes, Godwyn threw back his head, his own eyes flying open. He screamed, a deep, painful wail that rattled around the walls, sent a shiver down Balinor's spine. A thin sheen of colour – a sickly yellow imitation of the gold of magic passed over the King's irises, and then faded to nothing. Alice leant forward, her hands clasped above Godwyn's chest.

"Áfeorme sé ater. Áflieme dréor glófa ond oflinn seó siþ sé ædre. Blód, þiet æt mín galdor. Neáde úre gegenga fram geþonc bónsele. Eftbót hine!"

Godwyn's scream grew louder, his convulsions more violent. Gaius lunged forward, seizing the King's arm and pinning it to the mattress, mindful that he may injure the King, and shouted for Uther to do the same.

Godwyn thrashed, bucking against the bed like a man possessed.

Balinor's heart hammered against his ribcage, every unnatural jolt and spasm Godwyn gave not the movements of a person so close to death. This was something else.

All of a sudden Godwyn became rigid, flat upon the mattress. His screams subsided, becoming a deep sigh as a thin, dark mist began to rise from his skin. It leaked from every pore, freeing itself from its victim until it hung above him in the air. Silently, it dissipated until only clean air remained.

Godwyn fell silent, his head lolling against the pillow and Balinor hands, deep in unconscious.

All eyes turned to Gaius as he released Godwyn's arm and laid a hand on the King's forehead.

"Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare.*"

As he spoke, Godwyn's breathing eased, and settled into a regular rhythm. The man still looked deathly pale, but significantly better than he had mere moments ago. Gaius held out his hand for the phial Alice held.

"Lift his head." He instructed Balinor, waiting until his assistant had done so to tilt the glass against Godwyn's lips and encourage him to swallow.

The others in the room watched in silence until the last of the liquid was gone, and Gaius had completed his examination of the King's breathing, pulse and pupils.

At last, Gaius breathed a huff, and rubbed at his eyes. He was aware of the myriad pairs of eyes on him, but it was to Sir Thomas that he spoke.

"The curse is lifted and the poison gone. However, I cannot yet say what lasting damage has been done, nor whether he will live. These next few hours will be crucial. Alice and I shall continue giving healing, but the danger now is not from the poison's presence, but from the damage it has already caused."

The knight nodded, managed a very tremulous, grateful smile, and turned to leave. Likely to convey the news to the others of Godwyn's entourage.

Once the door was closed behind Sir Thomas, Uther turned to Gaius, a pensive expression on his face. "What was that draught you gave him?"

"A concoction to ease his breathing. Infused with more than a little magic. It should help to repair some of the damage done to his respiratory system, but I fear that his overall health shall never be the same."

"He is alive. That is the most important thing." The Prince heaved a tired sigh, and scrubbed his hands over his face.

Behind him, Gorlois breathed easy also, and finally released his grip on the hilt of his sword. Vivienne descended the stairs to stand beside him. Her fingers flexed as though she wished to reach for him, but refrained. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

He nodded slowly, as though undecided. "I am well, my Lady. It was the Prince who faced the assassin. The circumstances were unusual to say the least. He did not want to give up his secrets. It was quite a scrap."

Uther shrugged his shoulders, brushing off what he expected was probably a compliment. A glance at Balinor showed the boy to be watching him with one eyebrow raised in a silent demand that he understood all too well:

"You do something stupid?"

Uther shrugged a shoulder thoughtlessly. "Perhaps."

Balinor huffed through his nose, his other eyebrow rising to join the first. "You going to tell me about it?"

Uther pressed his lips into a thin line. "Later."

Carefully, slowly, Vivienne's fingers brushed the tips of Gorlois' gloved ones, curling around them lightly. "I'm glad you're safe," she told him in a little above a whisper.

He squeezed her hand gently, and offered her a small smile of thanks. A smile which grew to become amused when she whipped her handkerchief from her bosom and swatted Uther around the back of the head with it.

"No thanks to you!" She snarled, incensed when the Prince merely dismissed her with a silent wave of his hand over his head.

Her attack did however jolt him into action. Uther got to his feet, and gave a demure stretch of his shoulders. "I had better report to my father. Inform him of the situation." And get Edmund released, he did not say aloud, though all present heard it. He looked to Gaius, nought but serious in his expression as he inclined his head respectfully. "Thank you, Gaius."

The physician returned the gesture. "You are very welcome, Uther."

The Prince said nothing. He breezed from the room, his sodden, dripping cloak dragging regally on the ground behind him, leaving a damp trail to mark his graceful passage.

On his way out he passed Nyneve and Rion, both flushed from hurried flight and the pressure of emergency. He acknowledged them with an inclination of his head, and continued on down the stairs out of the tower.

High Priestess and Dragonlord looked at one another, puzzled.

The reason for his relaxed behaviour became apparent as they stepped through the door into Gaius' chambers.

Gaius himself was busy cleaning his phials and other equipment, while Alice wiped the remnants of herbs from the work table.

The Lady Vivienne was seated upon the lowest steps to Gaius' high bookshelves with Sir Gorlois, the two of them speaking in low tones about subjects known only to them. Balinor sat at the head of the patient bed, tired out but happy as he assisted the unconscious Godwyn to take some water. The King himself looked to be breathing normally, and was no longer twitching or perspiring.

Nyneve surveyed the scene with an imperious air of amusement, a small smile pulling at the corners of her red lips. Rion beside her looked at his son in bemusement. Balinor noted their presence suddenly, looking up and offering his father a bright smile.

At the sight, Nyneve folded her arms across her chest. "Well. It would seem that I am not required after all." She turned her head to meet Rion's confused, blinking eyes. "If you would be so good as to return me to my girls, Rion."

The stoic Dragonlord blinked once more, opened his mouth to speak, and snapped it shut again. Appearing to gather himself at last, he gave a grunt of assent.

Balinor watched his father go, waiting until the door was closed to acknowledge the feeling of eyes on him. He looked over his shoulder to find Gaius watching him with a proud smile. Such a sight could not help but inspire a feeling of warmth in Balinor. With a smile of his own, he turned back to Godwyn and helped the King finish his water.

*From the original Hippocratic oath, Line seven, late 5th Century.

*Godas sylfym æld. Ádée þes mann fram sé nearusearu. Áflíeme sé wordgerne. Ácwiðe sé áwierigung - Gods of old. Set free this man from the evil trick. Put to flight the dark saying. Banish the curse.

* Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare – I heal you thoroughly from your mortal wound.