So, Merlin's a werewolf now...rawr...
~13~ Mark them Deep
The cage clashed as it hit the ground several paces behind the liberated werewolf, and the beast howled in triumph as people scurried to their positions around it, all aiming deadly weapons.
"Hold steady!" Baldwin bellowed, holding up his own sword. "Target the heart! Don't let it escape!"
"No!" Arthur screamed even as an arrow shot from a longbow pierced the monster that was once Merlin in the shoulder. The werewolf snarled and clutched at the quarrel, then plucked it out as though it were not but a splinter. It gazed at it intelligently, and then threw it away in a rage, spittle flying from its jaws at it roared at the offending archer.
"Don't hurt him!" Arthur yelled, struggling to make himself heard. The werewolf noticed him, in any case, and turned towards him, sniffing. The king froze, pale, when the beast's ebony muzzle twitched and then bunched up as it growled. Arthur had but a moment to throw himself to the opposite side of his cage before the werewolf lunged at him, knocking the structure back and lifting one edge a whole two feet before the whole thing fell back down with a loud, rattling clang!
What were they thinking? The king raged inwardly as he scrambled back to his feet. They didn't attach the cages to the ground? Idiots!
"Bolas!"
With Baldwin's barked order, ropes with balls at the end whirled through the air from every direction. One set lassoed the werewolf's right arm while others looped around its shoulders and legs. It howled in frustration and tore at the bonds, destroying many with unsettling ease.
There was an order to fire. Arthur watched helplessly as his oldest friend-turned-beast was peppered with arrows. It howled, but it did not fall. Its tough hide prevented the bolts from dealing any damage, but they still made it mad.
"Defend yourself!"
A Silverblood ducked beneath a kite shield as the werewolf pounced and slashed at her. Its finger-length claws screeched like banshees across the metal, and sparks danced for a moment through the night. Gwaine jabbed at the beast from behind, distracting it and allowing the red-haired Silverblood to retreat. But the werewolf lunged for her again, and Gwaine, in a bout of courage, charged straight at the beast, shield up. He collided with it hard enough to make it stagger, and it growled in fury as it abandoned its pursuit of the Silverblood, who fled for the cover of the ranks. Gwaine began to retreat as well, only for the werewolf to follow, one arm up and ready for a crippling swing.
"Benjamin!" Baldwin suddenly roared. "By Larentia and Nocturn!" He began to chant again. Just as before, the werewolf's attention immediately fell on the captain, ears turned towards him, sniffing as though curious. It even ignored its wounds as it stared like a magpie would at a gleaming bauble. Behind it, two knights and two Silverbloods were sneaking up with a wiry net held among them. Then there was a slight hesitation in Baldwin's chanting, as though he had been distracted, and the werewolf whirled around like it knew that they were there the whole time.
The four net-wielders threw their snare, but it was clumsy and hasty, and one of the Silverbloods let go too late, resulting in a mess that let the werewolf lunge, jaws gaped, unhindered. The men fled, drawing weapons as they did so and keeping an eye over their shoulders.
Arthur yelled something unintelligible as one of his knights threw himself between the retreating men and the werewolf, swinging his sword defensively. The beast rose above the warrior and glared down at him, a giant even to Percival, who was the knight standing before him. Percival had to lift his shield as the monster swung a clawed arm, intent on disemboweling the puny human before it. The shield took the blow, but Percival was left staggering to his right, his face contorted with pain and shock. Before the beast could strike again, Elyan rushed up from behind and stabbed its flank, but like the arrows, his weapon failed to pierce the hide effectively. The werewolf still snarled in irritation, and spun around before batting Elyan aside like a cat with a yarn ball, effortlessly and mercilessly.
Other men and women took courage from the knights, however, and moved in to circle the monster and keep its focus away from any single one of them. It growled warningly and never let one quarter of itself remain unguarded for more than a second. Leon jabbed it with a spear to distract it as a Silverblood swung a mace its side. The beast snarled and faced the Silverblood, not giving the man a chance to retreat before slashing his throat out with one single swipe of its lethal claws. It was the first death.
The men and women withdrew from the attack, reluctant to get closer to those claws. The werewolf crouched now, on all fours but with one arm up in preparation. It focused hard eyes on the knights and Silverbloods, readying itself to pounce. And then a werewolf howled in the distance.
Merlin's beast perked, ears up and head cocked. Its black nose sniffed the air in the direction from whence the howl emerged, deep in the trees, as though it had entirely forgotten the humans surrounding it. It took a curious step towards the forest, and the men and women before it scrambled back fearfully, only to hastily fix the line and uphold weapons in defence. The werewolf ignored them and took another step, sniffing. Suddenly, a blonde-haired Silverblood rushed it from behind, a gleaming silver dagger in hand.
Several things happened at once. Gwaine bolted forward and intercepted the Silverblood, who was Asmodius, Baldwin's lieutenant. He shouldered him and sent him sprawling. The werewolf whirled around, claws slashing. Gwaine took the blow across his abdomen, and there was no air in his lungs to scream as he was knocked flying through the air, helpless, as though he were not but a leaf in the breeze.
Arthur watched in shock as the knight slammed against the cage still holding him imprisoned, sending a teeth-gritting clang through the air. As Gwaine slumped lifelessly to the ground, Arthur scrambled towards him and reached through the bars to touch him, vaguely hearing a woman shrieking in despair. He tried shaking Gwaine to revive him, then checked his pulse. The knight was alive, but unconscious. Merlin had nearly killed him.
It hit Arthur then the danger his servant, his best friend, now posed. If he wasn't stopped, and soon, there will be hell to pay, and when Merlin realizes what he had done, it will tear him apart. But how does one stop a werewolf?
The only solution was out of the question. Or was it?
What choice had they?
The line broke after Gwaine was felled, and now the werewolf had open access to the trees. It howled once more to the sky, and then charged on all fours to be swallowed by darkness in moments. There was an incoherent cry, and Asmodius rode after the beast on a white stallion, wielding his gleaming silver dagger high.
"Asmodius, no!" Baldwin roared, but the man was already gone, the ivory tail of his steed soon out of reach of the blazing torches. No one pursued him.
Then all was silent. Even the crickets had fallen still to witness the spectacle, but after several tense breaths, they continued their raucous, indifferent racket.
Arthur was seething. He remained crouched near where Gwaine lay unconscious, him inside and the knight outside the cage. A whole storm of fury raged inside his head, feeling like it was going to burst forth at any moment. He nearly spewed his thoughts but instead, he swallowed his anger and said, in the calmest way possible, "Let me out."
A Silverblood nearby heard him, Arthur could tell, but ignored him.
"Let me out," he said louder, more commanding. Now the Silverblood shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do.
"Release him," ordered Baldwin, whose back was turned from the king, watching the darkness between the trees, where his second in command had vanished. Arthur was surprised that the leader had heard him.
"What if he changes?" the standby Silverblood protested. He cringed as his commander turned and glared daggers at him, and then strode towards him, thunder faced.
"I said, release him," Baldwin growled, and gave the man a shove.
A key was hastily shoved into the lock, and seconds later, the door swung open and Arthur emerged. Many backed away, wary of the king, but Baldwin raised his voice. "He will not turn tonight. His body will not permit it, for it is not restful. Calm yourselves."
The king was burning with a thousand questions, but he retained them and crouched to inspect Gwaine. He was vaguely surprised to see a woman, a Silverblood, already kneeling by the knight and looking him over. Then he recognized her flaming red hair and realized that it was the woman Gwaine had covered, and therefore rescued, from the werewolf.
"How is he?" Arthur asked gruffly, but the woman only shook her head.
Gwaine was wearing a shirt of mail, and so the degree of the injury was undetermined. However, blood seeped through the metal links, darkening his front a deep red. More was oozing gently from the wound in the knight's head where he had hit the cage. Arthur pulled off his jacket and bundled it before placing it on the ground. He then eased him into a lying-down position, using the jacket as a pillow.
"I need a physician," he said through his teeth. "...Now!"
A Silverblood came forward, a satchel already falling from his shoulder and opening to reveal unrecognizable herbs and salves. Arthur stood, leaving the red-haired woman and the healer with the knight, to inspect the rest of his men. The Silverblood who was wounded in the throat was deemed dead, as expected, but Elyan and Percival, both having being hit, were fine, just shaken.
"That was Merlin," Elyan was saying, shaking his head in disbelief. "I mean, that was...Merlin."
Arthur licked his dry lips as he glowered into the darkness of the trees, just as Baldwin had done. He realized how parched he was, and tried to remember the last time he'd had a drink. He couldn't.
"He'll be all right, son," said Baldwin from behind the king. Arthur turned, glaring.
"Your promises and reassurances are becoming ever more untrustworthy, captain," he growled. "You knew that silver rock wasn't going to work. You knew that the cage wasn't properly constructed." His gaze would have made the gods tremble. "There will be serious repercussions for this. Mark my words, captain. Mark them deep."
Ͻ Ϫ Ͻ
Argus Vane paced restlessly in the circular chamber, the second to top floor of the ruined outpost's tower.
"The Silverbloods are here?" he hissed angrily to himself. "They weren't supposed to come! Not yet! They'll ruin everything."
Claudius, the soothsayer, tried to keep his face devoid of expression, but the fear of having to be the messenger made it a trying task. When he delivered the knowledge that King Arthur had been marked by the beast because of the quick thinking of Remus, the former Keeper of the Heart, it was something to be proud of. But this...
"And they have already made an attempt to kill both the servant and the king," said the soothsayer cautiously. "Their attempts failed only because of Rowan."
Argus paused, frowning. "Rowan?"
The other Blackhand nodded. "When the cursed servant heard Rowan's howl, he ran after it, as is their nature."
"But the Silver Heart," said the cult leader. "It should have kept the beast in place. Don't tell me it becomes immune to the Heart when it hears the call of its kin."
Now Claudius had something to smile about. "It is because the Silverbloods placed their Keeper back into the trees to keep him hidden. Our spies captured him." He left the unspoken consequence hanging, and Argus had to rein in a gleeful cheer.
That means we once more have possession of the Silver Heart, he thought excitedly, pleased that he managed to keep his outward dignity intact.
"And what of Rowan?" he asked, and was again bombarded with relief as Claudius kept his smile.
"Our family is tracking him even as we speak. By now, the servant would have returned to human form, but that matters little. Rowan will soon be back in our grasps."
Argus nodded and turned to the window, which looked out into the dark forest. Not much of a view, but it gave him an excuse to hold his silence until he disentangled his roiling thoughts.
"How many Silverbloods escaped arrest?" he said.
"Six, master. Including their priest—thanks to us—and their best assassin. They are now merely refugees."
"And we can offer them sanctuary," the cult master finished, nodding. "This we can work to our advantage. Once they hear my ingenious plan, they will cut Baldwin loose."
"Only six, master?" asked Claudius, confused. Argus snorted.
"What have you done in a past life that would condemn you to another lifetime of stupidity?" he wondered aloud. His forehead creased. "With the promise of glory once more, Baldwin's company will trickle towards us."
"Our glory will be for not if Camelot no longer trusts the Silverblood name," Claudius replied flatly.
"We will make them trust us," Argus snapped. "Them, and all of Albion. Once they see our powers over werewolves, they will flock to us like sheep. Now, leave me. I wish to rest tonight."
"I'm sorry if I've caused you any pain. Remember me as I was." ~ King Baldwin IV (Kingdom of Heaven)
