NOTE – my humblest apologies for the very long hiatus on this and congratulations to anyone who is still following it. My writing mojo upped and left when my Dad died last year but I've made a resolution to finish this so let's see how that goes. Happy reading.
Emrys, Emrys, where are you?
Merlin woke up with a jump, the small voice still echoing in his head. It was early morning and the sun was streaming through the trees creating wells of light across the forest floor. He squinted up at the canopy of green and let his eyes adjust. He had worked late into the evening to repair the damage caused and the entire forest clearing was still humming with the residue of energy and fresh new growth. Small shoots of green grass were tentatively showing through the charred earth, having germinated from the magic energy overnight, and the majority of the blackened bark on the trees was now a healthy brown with spots of green and yellow lichen. He sat up and winced as his head throbbed and black dots danced across his vision. Having lost his temper and carelessly expelled so much magic, he was going to be weak for a little while and the immense concentration from yesterday had left him feeling slightly woozy and with a dreadful headache.
He stood up and stretched, easing his cramped muscles and squinting at the bright sunlight. He dismissed the echo of the small voice from his mind deciding it must have been a dream and walked a short way to the stream he had found last night, squatting down next to it to refill his water bottle. He dunked his head under the fresh water and shivered as the last elements of sleep were chased away by the icy cold blast that hit his senses. He gasped and vigorously shook his head like an oversized puppy, sending water cascading in all directions. Running fingers through his wet hair, he tried to smooth it down without much success before turning back towards the camp.
Emrys, I can't find you.
Merlin stopped in his tracks and looked around. There was no one in sight but he had certainly heard a voice calling for him. He knew that his use of powerful magic yesterday may have affected his strength but he'd never experienced hallucinations as a result of its use before. He waited, listening, but there was no further sound except a light breeze through the leaves and the sound of a bird calling to his mate. Merlin looked up and saw a small brown bird perched on the branches above his head. It cocked its head and regarded him curiously, a bright spark in its black eye.
"What do you want?" Merlin asked. The bird squawked and flew off, causing other birds in the nearby tress to raise an alarm call and leave the area. Merlin sighed and rubbed his face in irritation. Just one day without human company and he was already talking to animals! How ridiculous, Arthur would laugh at him for weeks if he ever found out about this. Thinking about his friends made Merlin's throat constrict and his eyes sting. He pushed his thoughts away and stalked back to the camp grumbling under his breath.
He sat down and rummaged through his backpack for some strips of dried meat that Gaius had packed. He really needed to consider what he was going to do and where he was going but his brain felt like wool and was refusing to cooperate with his demands. He felt an overwhelming sense of despair wash over him and his black mood of yesterday threatened to return.
Emrys, help us!
Suddenly a child's scream shattered the peace of the clearing, the terror obvious in the young voice. Merlin leapt to his feet, instantly banishing all dark thoughts as he frantically searched for the source of the voice. A small brown bird flew into view and soared over Merlin's head, chattering angrily. He looked up at it and a memory stirred. "It can't be" he muttered, thinking back two days (was it really only two days, it felt like a lifetime) to the small bird he had held in his hands and healed. The creature chattered incessantly at him, hopping from branch to branch. Seeing it had Merlin's full attention, the bird flew to a further tree, alighting on a lower branch and turning to once again look directly at him. Feeling very foolish but realising he had no better alternative clue to the source of the cry for help, Merlin followed the bird. Once it was satisfied it had the young warlock's attention, the bird flew on, further this time, leading the way out of the clearing and into the forest. Keeping his eyes on the bird proved to be problematic as Merlin's natural clumsiness caused him to lose his footing several times over the rough forest terrain. Every time he scrambled to his feet, terrified he'd lost his guide, the bird would appear nearby, chattering as though it were scolding him for delaying.
Emrys hurry!
The cry seemed more desperate this time and Merlin redoubled his efforts, hurtling mindlessly through the dense vegetation, with his only thought being to find the source of this plea. Suddenly, he heard the sounds of battle to his right, the unmistakable clash of swords breaking across the relative calm of the forest. He looked at the bird which cocked it's head in the direction of the sounds and then flew directly towards them. Merlin advanced more cautiously, finding himself at the crest of a small slope, looking down into a natural dell in the forest. At the base of this gentle natural hollow, he could see there was a group of people and one small child who was running for her life. A large man moved from the sidelines of the group and caught the child with ease, swinging her off her feet none too gently.
EMRYS!
This time, the scream was not just in Merlin's head and reverberated around the clearing as the terrified girl wriggled and kicked for all she was worth. The sounds of battle ceased as the brown haired young man at the centre of the group instinctively turned towards the child, dropping his guard.
"Drop your weapon or we slit her throat" The command carried across the clearing from the large man now carrying the child back towards the group.
A flash of pure rage crossed the face of the young man but, realising he was hopelessly outnumbered and fearing for the safety of the small girl, he lowered his sword before throwing it to the ground and taking a step backwards, holding his hands out showing he was unarmed. At a signal from their leader, two of the men behind him grabbed his arms and roughly pushed him to his knees.
Shoving the girl towards one of his men, the leader of the gang advanced on the kneeling man placing the tip of his sword under his chin. Merlin was uncomfortably reminded of being in the same situation only a few days ago and he felt a shiver of fear as he considered how terrified he had been of what Arthur might do. It seemed however, that the man in the clearing was not concerned for his own life as much as that of the child. "Let her go" he snarled.
The bandit leader laughed "I don't think you are in any position to be making demands. You've cost me time and good men and you're going to pay for that."
He turned to look at the child and his eyes brightened. "She is a different matter. Even I can see she is special." He walked across to where the child was held tightly by one of his men and placed a hand under her chin, forcing her head up. Merlin gasped. Even from this distance, he could see the girl's eyes were burning gold as tears streamed down her cheeks. The leader gently stroked her cheek "The king of Camelot will pay handsomely for this one". His mocking laughter was cut short as the girl bit his finger hard, eyes blazing. Merlin could feel the magic emanating from her but it had no effect on the man who cursed and slapped her across the face. "Plucky thing, but that makes no difference. Once I've been paid, she'll burn like the rest of them."
This was a throwaway comment that the bandit leader would regret as the young man tore away from the grasp of the henchmen and threw himself at the leader, sending them both tumbling to the ground. There was a flurry of movement as both men rolled around on the forest floor trying to gain the advantage before several of the bandits dived into the melee and managed to wrestle the young man away from their leader. The leader stood up panting and spat a mouthful of blood from where the younger man had managed to land a blow to his jaw. He looked coldly at his adversary, who was now held by three of his men and dealt a hard blow to his stomach. The young man groaned and would have collapsed to the ground were it not for the men holding his arms in an iron grip. "That was foolish" said the leader, landing another blow. "I was going to sell you to the slave traders but I think you'll be too much trouble". He delivered a third punch and then nodded to his men "Finish him off, we need to move out."