"Guards aren't supposed to be asleep." Blaise banged Merlin's helmet. Morning light streamed in from a distant window.
"Agh—guards also get relieved," Merlin pulled the helmet off, rubbing his head.
They entered Anna's chambers to see the black Arabian tied to the bed.
"Cara." Anna shook Caradoc's sleeping form. "Cara."
"I'm awake!" Caradoc sat up. She squeezed her eyes tight and opened them wide in a hyperbolic display of blinking. She looked at the horse. "Damn. I fell asleep." She flopped back on the pillows.
"Well, now we have proof," Merlin said.
"Somehow, the prankster found out you were trying the halter the first time, but not this time." Blaise patted the black Arabian and probed the halter around its head.
"Blaise thinks the guy was hiding in my chambers last time," Caradoc called from her supine position.
"That's disturbing," Anna said.
"Where else did you discuss your plans?" Blaise asked.
"So, he was in your room last time, levitating the horse down from the window, and sending it to the stables with magic," Merlin's face fell with the realization. "What about the second horse?"
"There is no second horse," Anna said, bringing her hands up to her mouth.
"That bastard crapped in my room!" Caradoc sat up.
"Cara! I think we should concentrate on how long someone's been hiding in your chambers," Anna said. "And how he got there unnoticed in the first place."
"Wait, you think someone transformed himself into a horse?" Merlin looked at Blaise, "can that be done?"
"It explains why no one saw a second horse—and why two appeared the same night," Anna said.
"It doesn't explain how he got the halter on," Caradoc muttered.
"It can be done, though—don't get your hopes up, Merlin—it takes more power and skill than I have. In fact, I've never known anyone besides a priestess who can perform transformations like this."
"What about revealing true forms? Expose the—horse," Merlin asked.
"That," Blaise looked at Merlin, "that we probably can do." Blaise rushed from the room. After a moment: "I said we!"
"We'll help, too," Anna said to him, sniffing herself. "But after I bathe."
Cadoc and Taran crept up to the decrepit gates of Coludd. The walls on either side had long since tumbled down the steep inclines that turned the tiny isthmus into a precarious bridge linking the Fortress to the cliff where four horses now stood.
"Cadoc, the next time you want to drag me off on some idiotic quest for a pat on the head, just shoot an arrow in my eye and get it over with," Taran hissed as they passed beneath the arch that was more formality than barrier.
"We haven't died yet." Cadoc peered around the grounds.
"We haven't faced anything yet."
They heard a commotion from the main building. Running toward the grand entrance, they saw Arthur dwarfed by a large serpent whose sinuous form darted and swiveled as Arthur attacked. Its green-yellow eyes leered down at Arthur, its scales like black feathers. Several bleeding gashes in its body showed where Arthur had landed blows. The serpent made one last feint—Arthur swung once, a wide arc slicing down halfway through the serpent's neck. He readjusted his footing and completed the separation as the creature flopped and rolled. Arthur paused, trying to catch his breath as he stared at the decapitated snake. A woman's bare foot touched the head, folds of red dress falling around it. Her long dark hair swept the stones as she bent over to pick it up. She gazed into its dead eyes, declaring "this debt has been repaid. Perhaps you'll be more conscientious in the future" She met Arthur's eyes, then exited through a small door in the back.
Arthur watched her go, his mouth moving as if he were going to shout after her, but instead he exhaled. "We have to get him back to Cameliard," Arthur pointed to Bors slumped over in the corner to the left of the two knights.
Taran scooped Bors up, while Cadoc offered his shoulder to an exhausted Arthur.
The roan horse had been removed from the stables to a jail cell.
Blaise led the way down the dank corridor. Merlin strode close beside him, carrying a book and a mirror. Leodogran, Anna and Caradoc followed. The stones bled yellow and orange in the torchlight—when they rounded the corner to view the prisoner, Erik was standing by in the shadows, and there were two guards on either side of the cell.
"Lord Erik," Leodogran said, "we would be poor hosts to burden you with our minor troubles—you should return to your chambers. Julia will gladly provide you with entertainment, I'm sure."
Erik looked over to the cell where the roan horse chewed some straw. "I heard your 'minor troubles' involved a sorcerer—since your Captain is preoccupied, I feel I would be a poor guest not to lend my services."
"I think of all kingdoms, we are most qualified to contend with sorcery," Anna said and Erik turned his gaze to her. "But if you won't think any less of our hospitality, we accept your offer."
"Blaise," Leodogran said.
Merlin stepped back so that he was nearly leaning against the farthest wall. He held up the mirror that Blaise had charmed earlier, and everyone stared into it, clearing the way so that the featured subject was the occupant of the cell. Merlin bent his head to gaze at the upside-down image. Whereas their naked eyes saw a roan horse behind the bars, the mirror revealed a tall man, lean, wearing a red shirt and brown trousers. Several baubles and pendants hung around his neck, and dark bangs obscured his eyes. He smiled—not so much at his image in the mirror, but at Caradoc whose face had fallen with recognition.
"Eliavres," she said softly.
"Cara?" Anna turned to her.
"I rode you!" Caradoc pivoted toward the cell door. Anna grabbed her hand and stroked her arm, holding her back. In the cell, the horse's hide split, a cracked shell that fell to the floor and sublimated in a burst of vapor. The man now standing there matched his reflection.
"Not yet," he smiled at Caradoc, ignoring everyone else.
"Caradoc," Leodogran's voice was firm, his face hard, "who is this man?"
Caradoc's upper lip trembled and her eyes narrowed. "A powerful sorcerer—more powerful than I had initially thought—and far more selfish than I had thought."
"My good king," Eliavres kept his attention locked on Caradoc, "I have shown this woman nothing but respect and admiration, and she has shown me nothing but scorn."
"So you hid in her chambers?" Blaise stood rigid, his voice a pinprick of ice.
"I only provided what she asked for. And I make an excellent mount," he smiled. Caradoc rushed the cell, flinging her arms through the bars in an attempt to punch him, but Eliavres backed away. Anna and Blaise pulled Caradoc toward the center of the room—Blaise remained next to the bars, glaring at the sorcerer within.
"My Lord," Eliavres turned his gaze to Leodogran, "is it a crime to impersonate a horse?"
"It's a crime to enter a woman's chambers without her permission or knowledge," answered Anna.
"You have certainly presented me with a unique situation, I'll warrant that," Leodogran said.
"And you have certainly offended the Lady," Erik stepped forward, drawing all eyes to him—they'd forgotten he was there. "She clearly doesn't want your attentions—"
"Then I shall take my leave." Impatience had clouded Eliavres's face as Erik spoke, and he lifted one of the pendants around his neck to his lips. Blaise shouted for the cell to be opened, and almost hit the guard for not obeying swiftly enough—he entered the cell as Eliavres completed his incantation. Blaise made a wild grab, but Eliavres had disappeared into black smoke, leaving Blaise only with a few strands of hair in his long fingers.
"I'm sorry," Erik said.
"For what? That was his escape plan all along." Leodogran stared into the cell where only his own sorcerer stood. Anna held Caradoc's hand, and the two guards stared agape. Merlin, still backed against the farthest wall, lowered the mirror.
"Well, at least you managed to pull some hair." Merlin watched Blaise brew a potion.
"Yes I did." Blaise dropped the hairs into the boiling liquid. He looked into the pot. "I wanted to apologize for not believing you earlier—about the horses. I've never seen abilities like yours—it was easier to think you messed up."
"It's alright," Merlin smiled.
"Here, stir it until it gets thick," Blaise handed Merlin a thin ladle.
"How long will that be?"
"Oh, it'll be a while," Blaise said as he left the room. When Blaise returned, it was through the door of the adjacent room. He threw a small jar of a yellowish, viscous substance at Merlin, and grabbed a vial from one of the shelves, eyeing the level of the blue liquid inside. Merlin followed him into the larger room containing a dozen beds—Bors lay unconscious in one bed while Arthur sat, trying not to fall over, in another. Anna sat beside him.
"Will they be okay?" she asked, steadying Arthur and looking toward Bors.
"It'll take a few days to flush the poison from Bors—but he's mostly just cut and bruised," Blaise indicated Arthur. He poured some of the blue liquid down Bors's throat and instructed Merlin to rub the yellowish substance into the skin around the hole in Bors's shoulder where the serpent had bit him. Blaise then turned to Arthur, cleaning and binding his wounds, a little deeper than mere cuts.
"Well, I guess we don't have to worry about the witch's curse anymore," Arthur said, watching Merlin rub the ointment onto Bors's skin.
"Mostly," Blaise said as he bandaged Arthur.
"What do you mean?—I killed the serpent—the giant serpent—it was huge—of Coludd." Arthur swayed on the bed. Anna and Blaise propped him up.
"The witch's name is Ninaeve. And she was upset about my behavior as well. My punishment is to train Merlin—personally, I think you got off easy."
"Oh." Arthur collapsed back onto the bed as Blaise finished. Anna and Merlin pulled blankets over him. She sat by him and Bors for a few minutes while Blaise and Merlin returned to Blaise's chambers. Blaise poured the thickened concoction that Merlin had been stirring—that had somehow reduced to little more than a spoonful—into a mold. Merlin looked around, wondering if Blaise had pilfered his tools from a baker or a blacksmith. Perhaps he had borrowed from every trade in the city. The mold set in a few minutes, revealing a purple stone.
"Is that my warning bell?" Caradoc stood in the doorway.
"It'll get warm and change color when Eliavres is nearby."
"How nearby?"
"How far can you throw a rock?"
"How big a rock?"
"This big." Blaise held out the purple stone, and their fingers brushed as Caradoc took it. "Where are you sleeping?" he asked.
"Anna offered to let me stay with her."
"Where are you sleeping?"
Caradoc looked at the stone in her hands, her face worn and worried. Blaise tilted his head toward another door in the room that led to the small chamber where he slept.
"Go," he said. "I'll be out here all night anyway, checking on our returning champion."
Caradoc smiled weakly and nodded, closing the door behind her.
"Do you think Eliavres would hurt her?" Merlin stared at the wood of the door.
"I don't know, Merlin, I really don't. Believe me, I wish I did."
"Are you and she—" Merlin started, but the look on Blaise's face stopped him.
Blaise placed the small pot in a bucket of water, staring at the ripples his hands made. "Do you know what it means to trust someone with your life—truly trust someone you care about?"
"Arthur can't know—you shouldn't have said anything." It was almost a whisper—Merlin wasn't sure Blaise heard him.
"Arthur is not Uther." Blaise finally turned around to look at Merlin. "I've known him a month, and I can see that. If you were truly his friend, you'd have realized that as well."
"How do you know Uther?" Merlin paused a moment, but Blaise didn't answer. "Did you used to live in Camelot?"
"I used to be Gaius's apprentice," Blaise said after a moment, as he began transferring books from the table back to the shelves. "He was my teacher for ten years—I left Camelot in the middle of the Purge, during which I got to watch as innocent people were slaughtered and Gaius revealed himself a coward."
"At least he stayed and did what he could—you chose to run away."
"Run away?" Blaise swerved. "Look around you, imbecile—how do you think I got all these books—where do you think they came from? Most were smuggled—by me or to me—at great risk—because we all believed the knowledge in them was worth saving. We smuggled people, too—because innocent lives were definitely worth saving. 'Did what he could'—what Gaius could do was keep his head down."
"Then why did he save my father's life?"
Blaise looked at Merlin.
"My father was a Dragonlord, and Gaius protected him."
Blaise's face softened. "You're Balinore's son? That's interesting." Blaise turned to organize his bookshelf. "So Gaius remembers one of the few he helped." Blaise replaced the last book then looked as Merlin, crossing his arms. "Tell me, does he even remember the names of those he watched burn?"
Merlin said nothing—he turned his attention to his fingertips.
"Oh, I see—you think Uther's the only villain in this story. You think it's enough to disagree internally—that so long as a man believes that a thing is wrong, he can watch from the sidelines with a clean conscience."
"What was Gaius supposed to do?" Merlin looked up at Blaise.
"More than he did. For example, I know he wasn't the one who taught Arthur to judge people based on the merit of their actions rather than the quirks of their birth."
Once again, Merlin could only respond by turning away.
"Arthur is not Uther." Blaise sat down at a small desk. He opened two books, one a worn volume full of writing, the other only half full. Blaise turned to a blank page and began transcribing, concentrating on each word as he wrote it.
Uther sat at the long table in the main hall. Before him, a plate a food he sporadically picked at. He held his goblet of wine close to his lips, but didn't drink—he stared at the empty chair at the other end of the table.
The doors opened. Gaius entered.
Uther sat forward in his chair, placing the goblet back on the table. "Any news?"
"Nothing definitive, I'm afraid—only that there have been no more reports of a manticore or similar creature. Although, no carcass has been sighted either."
Uther sighed. "You were right, Gaius, I should have summoned him back to Camelot."
"No, sire, you were right—Arthur can take care of himself. I'm sure this is just a problem with communication." Gaius smiled weakly, then bowed his head and left.
Uther leaned back against his chair, closing his eyes and muttering.
It might have been a prayer.
-end-