Artoria II

Caer Gradawc should have been an inspiring sight. To a girl that grew up on the edge of a fishing village, its towering limestone curtain wall was beyond anything she had ever witnessed, and the wonders only increased after she rode through the gatehouse. For one thing, everything was so clean!

Artoria's jaw nearly dropped when the gleaming white mountain of a keep loomed out of the cityscape. After she and Kay parted ways with Merlin to stable the horses, they traveled on spotless white pavers that put even Durnovaria's well-tended streets to shame. If she ever got the chance to build a capital, she wanted it to look like Caer Gradawc, but as beautiful as it was, the view was ruined by the sad state of the city's most precious treasure: its people.

Almost zombielike, the pale, sweaty locals shuffled along the roads, which somehow stayed quieter than her hometown despite serving twenty times the people. The stable keeper had taken their coin with hardly a word, then he put his head down, and began to snore. On the way to the stables, they passed one of the hardworking street-sweepers, and on the way back, he was pushing his broom along the same stretch of pavement. Something terrible had happened here. Something that sucked the life out of every man, woman and child in the city.

She ground her teeth, and a painful thump-thump-thump in her chest swelled in time with her rising temper. When I get my hands on that magus… She tapped a rhythm on Caliburn's hilt.

A hand gripped her shoulder, then Kay's worried grimace popped up on her right side. "Easy, Arthur. He's not going anywhere."

"Let me go, Kay!" She growled, and roughly pulled free of his grasp. "We lost a week already, and his confederates could be anywhere!"

He matched her glare with one of his own. "And working yourself into a lather's gonna change that? Calm down before you collapse again!"

Artoria jerked back like she was slapped. Her face crumpled. Why did you have to go there, Kay?

Kay's eyes widened, and he threw up his hands in surrender. "Arthur, I'm sorry! Forget I even said it."

She hung her head in shame nevertheless. Kings didn't have weak hearts. Kings didn't need their companions to care for them. Neither of those facts stopped her from collapsing in a wheezing heap four days ago while running up a hill of all things, forcing Kay to tie her like a sack of flour to his horse and carry her back to camp. "No, you are right. I will not help our cause by suffering another attack of weakness."

Her throbbing heart sighed in relief, but no sooner had she calmed down than a random passerby almost bowled her over.

"Guh!" she yelped, and flapped her arms.

Staggering to a halt, the man wheeled around, blinked at her sleepily, and winced. "Sorry kid, didn't see you. That fever going around's really kicking my rear–feels like my head's full of wool." After giving his cheeks a few hard claps, and shaking his head, he turned away and ambled off.

Thump-thump-thump-thump

Never mind Artoria, you have a duty to complete. She looked at her brother sharply. "Actually, I have a better idea. We should double our pace after questioning him!"

Kay slapped his forehead. "Argh, for crying out loud! Why do I even bother...know what? let's make a deal. If you rest for a day after we handle the magus, I'll give you first shot at his family jewels—"

"I do not care!" she interjected.

"—and a manchet roll," He finished, grinning like a shark.

Artoria's mouth snapped shut on reflex. It was a lucky break, because otherwise she would have drooled on her tunic. Kaaaay, that's not fair! She really should have seen this coming when the argument started—Kay had always been a dirty fighter, and he loved using words to throw her off balance, so of course he attacked her Achilles heel: her stomach.

Manchet rolls were the last word in rural decadence, the ultimate tasty treat. Ector bought one every year for her birthday, and they were nearly as precious as the gifts she got. Kay wanted to buy one now? This was pure bribery!

She gulped. Would a day's rest make much of a difference? Merlin sees everything when he puts in the effort, and he said we'll finish recovering in a few days, her belly pleaded.

But which is more important, her conscience demanded. Your appetite, or your duty to Britain? Justice must be done!

Realizing what she had to do, Artoria wilted. Curse the blessed genius who added milk and eggs to bread, for making this so difficult! She solemnly shook her head. "I will not be swayed from my duty, Kay, especially not by bribery."

Kay gawked at her like she had reached out and tweaked his nose. However, he quickly recovered—shaking his head furiously, he stormed past her. "Fine, let's get this over with. Merlin should have an audience by now."

Artoria warily peered at the castle in the distance. She bit her lip. I hope this Ambrosius is willing to help…

XXX

"Introducing Merlin the Magus of Flowers, Sir Kay, and Arthur Pendragon!" cried the herald. The seated courtiers broke into excited whispering when her party stepped into the throne room.

Artoria fidgeted under their stares. She hadn't seen this much power and finery gathered in one spot since that fateful day in Durnovaria, but their attention was on a whole different level than the half-hearted scoffs she got from the knights and lords. Nevertheless, she steeled herself. Remember that you're a king in training. Kings don't get nervous. Stiffening her posture, she eyed the man they had come to meet.

Ambrosius Aurelianus perched on his throne, watching them like a hawk. A scarlet cloak draped over his shoulders, but left enough uncovered to reveal the set of bronzed chainmail protecting his torso. He grasped his chin, and quirked a dark eyebrow. "It's been a while, Merlin. What is it, eight years since we last met?"

Merlin gave him a crooked grin. "Spot on, Ambrosius. It was the second time Kent laid siege to Badon. Fortunately for you, someone discovered their battle plan." He chuckled merrily. "That was a good day."

Their host rolled his eyes. "A shame that pair of snakes haven't learned their lesson yet. I have reports that they're gearing up for their ninth push, like I haven't figured them out after a decade of cracking Saxon skulls on the mountainside." He leaned back on his throne, and swept a hand across the room. "Court dismissed. This is a private matter between me and the wizard."

The courtiers erupted in dismayed groans, but they obediently rose from their chairs, and filed out of the hall, though a few threw curious looks over their shoulders while they passed through the double doors. When the last stragglers departed, a pair of armored guards pulled the doors shut behind them, and the four of them stood alone in the throne room—her, Kay, Merlin, and the lord of Atrebatia.

Artoria almost vibrated with anticipation. Time to make a good first impression! Stepping forward, she bowed at the waist. "Thank you for your time, King Ambrosius."

Merlin winced.

Ambrosius' eye twitched. "Just call me Ambrosius, boy, or dux if you have to use a title. I'm Roman. We don't hold to that kingship tripe."

Her face colored in embarrassment and offense. Tripe? He's calling my sworn duty tripe? She began to retort—

"So I heard you caught a magus," Merlin cut her off.

Ambrosius scoffed, and slapped the arm of his throne. "Of course you're spying on me, if the bloody Pict-lovers are sniffing around."

Merlin furrowed his brow. "Strathclyde?"

He gave a sharp nod. "Yes, that lot. Their court magus sent one of her revolting familiars, and offered to buy him off me." Raking a hand through his dark hair, he glowered at one of the mullioned windows lining the far wall. "Scared my courtiers half to death in the process."

"Don't tell me you accepted!" Merlin choked, turning white as a sheet.

But their host nodded gravely, grimacing in distaste. "I did. Don't get me wrong, she's a disgusting woman, but she offered too much for me to shield a murderer. Five thousand siliquae? I need that silver for the sake of the realm, because half of my troops are stricken with fever."

Artoria's morbid curiosity got the better of her. "Merlin, who is this court magus?"

Looking like he was sucking on a lemon, he replied, "Lady Hellawes is her name, and despite my many warnings, King Caw hired her as his court magus during your father's reign. Not that she isn't powerful or knowledgeable, because she has both in spades, but she has certain…" he wrinkled his nose. "…dark tastes."

Ambrosius matched his expression. "Yes, that's one way of putting it." Then his disgusted look morphed into a scowl. "But I don't care what she does with his body, so long as she takes him off my hands. That madman turned up soaked in blood on day one, then he put four of my guards in the infirmary when he tried to escape. I just want him gone."

She swallowed thickly. Do what with his body? I agree that he has to be punished for what he did—which now includes murder on top of everything else—but that Lady Hellawes sounds…sinister. Her face fell. It's a moot point anyways. He is the dux's prisoner to judge, not mine or Merlin's. The best we can do, is to accomplish our original purpose. Stepping forward once again, she asked, "Before you send him away, can we speak with him? Merlin said that he was involved in wrecking Stonehenge, but he couldn't have done it alone. We need more clues to hunt the culprits down."

He turned to Merlin. "Is that true?"

Merlin gave a fierce nod, and gripped his staff tightly. "I Saw it. He was alone when he left the ruined circle, but a magus that can be held by iron bars couldn't have done it alone. He must have allies somewhere."

Ambrosius rubbed his face, and grunted. "Fine, knock yourself out. But I hope you have a translation spell handy, because none of my men can make heads or tails of his jabber."

"Oh, that won't be a problem," Merlin said, smiling tightly. "I have just the spell for that kind of thing."

"Okay, then it's settled." He pushed himself out of his throne, stepped off the dais, and marched toward the double doors. "I'll have my jailer escort you to his cell within the hour. But don't let him escape," he said, glaring over his shoulder. "I need to extend Badon's earthworks in time for the summer campaign. If he gets out? I'm taking it out of your hides."

Hearing that threat, Artoria felt a small measure of pity for the doomed magus. I hope you have the answers we're looking for, because it might be your last chance to atone for your sins.

XXX

An ear-piercing squeal broke the silence, then a sharp crunch cut it off. "Fuck!" Kay cursed, and flailed his arms wildly.

"Mind the rats," The jailer rasped. "The wee beasties like to trip you up on the way down. Makes it easier to reach your soft spots," he chuckled, prodding the nub of cartilage where his ear used to be.

Artoria grimaced, but watched her footing—it would be far too easy to slip and fall in the darkness.

They descended into the black pit of Ambrosius' dungeons, with only the jailer's torch to light the way. Reaching the end of the staircase, they scared off a group of rats that were swarming over…something.

Their guide peered closer, and scoffed. "You were always a dumb cat, Gwalchmei, but this trumps it all." He glanced over his shoulder. "Keep close, and stay in the light. Your friend's five doors down the hall."

Her stomach lurched. Is it so hard to cull the vermin? Ambrosius wouldn't want his prisoners getting gnawed to death, would he? She looked at Merlin. "Could you give us some more light?"

Merlin wrinkled his nose. "As you wish." A ball of cold flame appeared at the top of his staff, and exploded forward, illuminating a broad swath of hallway.

The jailer peered at his torch, then Merlin's staff, and gave him a dirty look. "Bloody showoff."

A few minutes later, the group stood before a heavy wooden door with iron banding. Their escort pulled out a key, stuck it in the lock, and turned it with a loud clunk. "You have an hour. Scream if he causes trouble," he said, and chuckled darkly.

She forced an uneasy smile, and pulled Caliburn from its sheath. "We should have no trouble, right men?"

Kay drew his own sword. "Right, a garbage magus won't get the drop on us."

He grinned, revealing a mouth full of crooked, yellow teeth. "Then I'll leave you to it. See you soon." The jailer spun on his heel, and plodded up the hall, cackling like a hyena.

Artoria suppressed an eye-roll. She wondered if jailers' pay was based on creepiness. If that was the case, this man had to be the richest in Atrebatia. "Prepare yourselves, men!" She pushed the door open, and stepped into the cell.

She immediately encountered a problem—it was too dark to see. A tiny window allowed a weak shaft of light into the cell, but all that did was ruin her night vision…though a closer look revealed dozens of crushed rats scattered around the floor—

Something rustled in the corner.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Taking a shaky breath, she raised her sword with trembling hands. "Merlin, I could really use that light now..."

Merlin ducked through the doorway with Kay at his back. "Right away, Arthur." He aimed his staff at the corner.

"Guh!"

A figure squatted there, completely unchained, and shielded his eyes from the glare. He shot to his feet, and stared at her.

She stared right back.

The first detail that caught her eye, was his fiery red hair. That by itself wasn't strange in Britain—it was actually very common—but not when paired with his bizarre yellow-tan complexion. Wherever this magus came from, it was nowhere any Briton had gone before.

Then she saw the blood.

Crimson flecks dotted his form from the tattered rags on his shoulders, to the odd-looking shoes on his feet. Some of it had to come from hungry rats, and the carcasses decorating the cell floor, but not even a hundred of them would explain the crust of old blood staining his tunic rusty brown.

But worst of all, were his eyes. They were a warm amber color, and might have been attractive if his face wasn't twisted by a deranged leer. He looked joyous—no, rapturous, when his gaze raked over her body.

The madman's teeth glittered in the dark. "Seibah…" He shuffled towards her.

Her blood turned to ice. "MERLIN, RESTRAIN HIM!"

Her teacher bounded forward. "STAY AWAY FROM MY PUPIL!" He thrust his staff like a spear, and the air rippled with the force of his magic.

The bloody magus's eyes bulged comically, and he soared backwards, striking the cell wall with a heavy thud. He struggled and thrashed, but stuck fast—Merlin's spell firmly pinned him to the wall.

Merlin prowled across the room, glaring fiercely at the struggling magus. He roughly gripped his head with both hands, and peered into his eyes. "Hold still, this will hurt," he bit out. His hands glowed pale blue…

"AAAAAAHHH!"

The magus's mouth opened in a blood-curdling scream. His whole body bucked against Merlin's spell in a wavelike motion, and his eyes spiraled crazily in their sockets every time he thumped against the stonework. Ten beats passed, then blood seeped out of his nostrils, and after twenty, the magus reached the end of his endurance. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped against the wall.

Merlin lowered his shaking hands. Then he staggered backwards, staring blankly at the unconscious magus.

She frantically scanned him for injuries. Ten years, and he never looked half this shocked. What did he see in the madman's mind? Artoria carefully approached her teacher, and laid a hand on his shoulder. "What is wrong? What did you see?" She whispered.

Merlin jumped. He glanced at her, then back at the magus, back and forth until he finally settled on the latter. A flurry of emotions crossed his face—pity, desire, shame, and finally awe. He whirled around. "We have to get him out of here."

Artoria's eyes bulged. What the—She backed away from him, suddenly worried that the magus's madness was catching. She looked at the blood-drenched lunatic, then back at her teacher, the man who had never led her wrong. "Why?"

His eyes dimmed. "Because he's done nothing wrong."

"What the fuck are you on about!" Kay barked, stalking towards Merlin. "He's covered head to toe in gore—how did you think he got that way, a shaving accident? I wonder if that spell backfired and rotted your brain!"

Merlin snarled. "I mean that the blood is all his own, and the only man he's killed in his entire life was a madman trying to sacrifice a child to bring about the end of the world!"

Kay froze stiff, and all the blood drained from his face.

Artoria choked. She rounded on Merlin. "The end of the world?"

He nodded solemnly. "Yes, and what a nasty curse it was. Drowning mankind in All the World's Evils? It almost makes me happy that we got this mere catastrophe instead of the apocalypse."

Artoria could only stare at the man her mentor claimed saved them all. He is a hero…a hero! All this time, I was searching for a villain, but he was a hero all along! She turned to Merlin. "So, he is not a murderous madman?"

Merlin snorted. "Oh, he's definitely a madman, just the helpful sort. The boy wants to save everyone he ever sees, some half-baked dream passed down from his father."

Kay regarded the man—the boy hanging from the wall like he was some kind of absurd animal. "How did he live so long, if he's that fucking stupid?"

"He has a powerful healing ability," Merlin replied, giving the magus an impressed look. "The magus overseeing the ritual tried to melt the flesh off his bones, but he powered through the spell, healed completely, and stabbed him in the heart."

Artoria looked at the two men in her life with annoyance. "That sounds heroic, not mad."

Merlin grinned. "It's a good thing you like him then, because I want to recruit him."

She blinked. "Really?"

"Yes! He's brave, he has healing powers, good archery skills, a little training with the sword, not to mention certain…exotic abilities I'm eager to cultivate," he replied, turning to clean the blood off the magus's face. "I bet I can make something useful of young Shirou, with a little time and some high-intensity training."

Artoria looked doubtfully at the magus—Shirou apparently. She recalled how it took barely a minute for Merlin to overpower him, restrain him, and knock him unconscious, turning him into a bloody ornament dangling a foot above the cell floor. To be honest, he doesn't look like knight material at all, does Merlin want to train him in battle magic? It sounds ridiculous, but I'm sure that he knows what he's talking about. She nodded sharply. "Then wake him up."

Merlin clapped his hands. "Wonderful! One wake-up call, and a primer in Brittonic, coming right up." Once again, he gripped Shirou's head, and his hands glowed.

Shirou jolted awake. "Ugh…nan—huh? Wait, what's going on?" He croaked, and tugged at his magical restraints.

"What's going on, boy, is you're in deep, deep trouble," Merlin replied. "The lord of this land thinks you're a murderer—technically true—and he wants to sell you to a necromancer that's a bit too attached to her craft."

Shirou blanched. He made to speak, but Merlin cut him off.

"Now Shirou, there's only one way you're leaving this cell healthy and whole, and that's with us. But getting you out of here's bound to land us in a heap of trouble, so I have to make it worth our while." He waved a hand her way. "That boy over there is Arthur Pendragon, and he's destined to unite our people." Merlin stepped aside, revealing Shirou staring openmouthed.

Artoria flushed. Is there something on my face? She scrubbed her forehead, but found nothing obvious.

Merlin continued. "My young charge has dedicated his life to saving Britain from those who would harm it, both within and without. He is strong, and skilled, better than anyone I've ever trained, and trust me, I've trained a lot of swordsmen. But he cannot do it alone!" His gaze pierced through the hanging magus. "Now, I know how your kind works. Even the best of you are shifty sorts, and I need something a little more reliable than your word to bind you, hence the geas."

Shirou frowned. "The curse of coercion?"

A sinking feeling grew in the pit of her stomach. Wait, a curse?

Merlin laid a hand on Shirou's chest. "Will you swear to faithfully serve my king, heed his every command, and do everything in your power to aid him, until he saves our people?"

Her eyes shot wide open. Merlin, you're going too far! She made to step in between them. "Wait!"

Shirou nodded forcefully. "I'll do it—I'll help him save them all!"

Merlin grinned. "Wonderful!" He chanted too rapidly to understand, then a flash of light engulfed Shirou's chest. "Welcome aboard, boy!"

Artoria's face twisted in horror. "Merlin, why?"

The man she'd have angry words with later peered over his shoulder. "I told you why, he's a magus. Their whole society's built on backstabbing and betrayal, so it's standard practice to enforce agreements with a geas. The form I used was actually pretty lenient. Some of those reptiles bind their souls with contracts signed in blood!"

She gritted her teeth. The more I hear about magi, the viler they get, but that doesn't change a thing—I don't want to enslave him with a curse! "I don't care, undo it!" she shouted.

Sucking air through his teeth, he grimaced. "Sorry Arthur, but I can't do that. Once he agreed to the terms, the geas became irreversible. The only way to escape it, is to fulfill the terms of the contract, meaning he must serve until you fulfill your destiny."

Artoria paled. But that could take years!

"Arthur, don't be upset. I'm fine with it, honestly," Shirou soothed.

"No!" she shouted. Taking a deep breath, she turned to her newest companion—not her slave, never her slave!—and gripped her hair. "I do not have any wealth, or lands, or titles for you. I cannot give you anything but freedom from this cell. We sleep in tents! Why would you do this to yourself?"

Shirou's hollow eyes bored into her soul. "I didn't have a reason…I just wanted to save people," he answered slowly, and quirked his head to the right, looking for all the world like he couldn't fathom her reaction.

Kay nearly tripped in his hurry to back off. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" he muttered hoarsely.

Artoria could only stare. That's noble…but so stupid! Why would you throw away your freedom like that? I would have brought you along, binding curse or not!

Merlin clapped Shirou on the shoulder, and he fell to the ground. "Hate to remind you, but our time's running out. We have less than an hour to come up with a plan, and get out of here before that jailer comes back to check on us."

The bottom fell out of her stomach. Oh dear, he's right. How are we going to get out of here?

"Fortunately, I already have a plan!" He crowed. "Just sit back, and let the wizard explain!"

And so, Merlin launched into his explanation. It was bold, and risky, but despite that, she felt a ray of hope. Everything had been one shock after the next since they entered this cell. She had encountered a murderous lunatic, found out he actually wasn't murderous, heard that the world nearly ended before this boy stopped it, then watched this mad fool magically bind himself to her service. In spite of all that, she felt that she'd come out ahead. Shirou, while not free, would be safe from the clutches of that necromancer, and she would gain a companion who was…frightfully devoted to saving the innocent. She needed time to figure out how to handle this noble idiot, and scream at Merlin in the meantime, but if things went to plan, Artoria would gain her first ally.

She bit her lip. It can't be that difficult to sneak a lone boy out of a city, right? Merlin has it well in hand.