"Have you heard? There's a rumor in St. Petersburg!" "Have you heard what they're singing on the streets!" Yes, we are making references to animated musicals. We're that awesome :P
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EDIT: Remember how we said that this story could bounce between serious and absurd? This chapter is more on the absurd side. There are important plot details in this one, though. However, the events in here are very much a hyperbole of what we think would really happen.
Arthur Pendragon, the crown prince of Camelot, pursed his lips in frustration. He had spent most of last night unsuccessfully chasing after escaped prisoners. As it was nearing the morning's death, Arthur stood in the council chamber. Behind him stood Merlin who was barely healthy enough to return to work. They stared towards Uther and Morgana while listening to a stream of testimonies concerning the escaped prisoners. After every knight who had any sort of run in with the escapees stated their observations, the rest of the testimonials proved useless, even Gaius'. Arthur sighed inwardly. At least Gaius had the decency to admit he didn't know anything of value about about them! For the past two hours they'd been bombarded by ridiculous theories from courtiers and commoners alike. If Arthur wanted to listen to hair-brained ideas he'd have gone to tavern and stayed sober the entire time.
"I understand that the old sorcerer is the leader," said a young courtier who by all accounts fancied herself an intellectual. "I'm certain that the other three are his thralls." (Arthur doubted that.) The courtier moved her hands expressively, "The young man must have sold his soul to the wizard!" Arthur pressed his fist to his mouth as the woman babbled on, "The woman in white is a ghost conjured by the wizard's dark powers."
Arthur bit back several humiliating remarks. Why? He cursed silently, Why doesn't my father send me back looking for those violent, magical psychos? Right now, he hated Sir Leon for leading the search while Arthur rotted in the council chamber.
"There is no doubt the one in red is a succubus."
Arthur heard Merlin let out a muffled snort that was quickly followed by a grunt of pain. Arthur couldn't quite remember what a succubus was. It seemed like it was some sort of mythical demon. Arthur could hear his servant shuffle his feet. It seemed that Merlin, however, did know what a succubus was.
Just as Arthur was telling himself that no one would take this stupid theory seriously, he realized something unspeakable. Uther was completely buying into this ridiculous theory. No, Arthur thought, This. Stops. Here.
"How did you come by this information?" Arthur asked.
The courtier replied with several strings of 'I heard from so-and-so, who heard it from what's-his-face, who heard it from John Doe...' This seemed to go on forever until Uther finally dismissed the courtier, stating that he had heard enough.
Actually, after the knights and Gaius had finished their testimonials, there was one interesting piece of information. Just one. One commoner, amongst all the rubbish he spewed, mentioned in passing that the escaped prisoners had asked about Merlin quite a bit. Uther asked Merlin what he knew about the sorcerers. Merlin replied that he was cornered a few times. He said that they were insane; most of what they said might as well been gibberish. To this, Uther gave Merlin a look that said, This coming from you? You don't have a brain.
Merlin walked gingerly through the halls, trying to finish his chores with as little pain as possible. He probably wasn't going to be able to finish his work today. And, Arthur had already tried to send him back to bed. Merlin didn't care. The whole point of working today was to prevent Arthur from being overly vulnerable to whatever the psychos in the woods planned next.
As if getting his chores done wasn't long and arduous enough, every gossip in the castle would sidetrack Merlin. He was losing count of the absurd stories he was hearing. Some of them even topped the ridiculousness of the ones he heard in the council chamber. Also, Cara's sticks had earned dozens of names overnight: the witch's sticks, the burning red clubs, the death sticks, the witch's torture toys... There were even heated debates over which name was more appropriate. To this Merlin would suggest to simply call it "the don't touch me sticks." This suggestion wasn't very appreciated by most people.
Worst of all, Merlin couldn't flee easily. He silently bemoaned this fact especially when someone he particularly disliked would stop him. Merlin didn't mind talking to most of the people who stopped to talk to him. What bothered Merlin was that a single errand took absurdly long to complete. He had already tried using the being busy working for Arthur excuse... multiple times. It didn't work. Instead of simply leaving, the person would tag along out of pity. They would good-naturedly hope to lighten Merlin's burden. It was nice and thoughtful of them. But little did they know, their "help" was actually a hindrance... a hindrance accompanied by ear-burning gossip.
The sorcerers wanted to curse the cattle into growing extra heads. They teach ducks to speak. They transformed some of the knights' heads into pumpkins. The wizard melted stones into manure. One man just got better from having been turned into a newt by the wizard. The intruders were trying to rob the vaults. They were even in league with goblin locked within the vaults. One of women was the goblin's lover.
Not every story was absolutely ridiculous. Some were impressively near the mark, but plenty weren't. Merlin didn't bother trying to refute any of the tall tales. Doing so never shut anybody up. Besides, Merlin would plenty to laugh about with Gaius tonight.
However, the most shocking rumor had nothing to do with the crazy crew.
One servant secretively pulled Merlin aside.
"You're Prince Arthur's manservant?" Was it Merlin's imagination, or did this man's voice have an edge of awe to it?
"Yes," Merlin answered. He stared in confusion at the other servant's behavior.
"How..." The servant glanced around. "Do you deal with his temper?"
"I usually duck and run," Merlin replied slowly, still completely baffled. Before Merlin could ask 'why,' the other servant cut in.
"He throws mud at you!" Merlin wasn't sure he heard that right.
"What?"
"I knew threw mud around his room, but at people?" The servant shook his head. "I don't know how you handle it. I've got to go back to work. Good luck."
Merlin stared speechlessly at the retreating servant. Merlin still hadn't fully registered what he had heard. Had they been talking about different people? No, that servant specifically said 'Prince Arthur.' Since when did Arthur willingly touch mud? That is, without some tactical advantage involved, such as hiding in the mud until the right moment to strike. Merlin couldn't imagine a reason for Arthur to fling mud around his room. Merlin knew that allowing mud to be tracked into the room might as well be an invitation for scolding and flying objects.
Once Merlin finally managed to make his way back to Arthur's chambers, Merlin was greeted by the room's usual state. No mud. Not a trace of it.
"So, Arthur," Merlin voiced, "you like to throw mud around your room?"
"How did you find out about that?" Arthur blurted out before he could stop himself.
"So it's true. I didn't know you liked mud so much."
"I don't. Where did you hear this?"
"Should I bring you some mud, Sire?" Merlin asked in a mock-innocent voice.
"You haven't answered my question," Arthur responded sharply. Arthur just wanted to make sure Merlin hadn't heard this from anyone other than the replacement servant. As long as Merlin was the only one he had told, that other servant could have a reprieve from punishment.
"You didn't answer my question either," Merlin replied impertinently.
"I asked first. And, besides, I'm in charge. I don't have to answer your questions, but it's your job to answer mine."
Merlin relented, "I don't know him." Merlin then added as a semi-helpful alternative to the name, "He was a servant."
"What do you mean you don't know him?"
"There are a lot of servants, Arthur. I know the ones I tend to bump into on errands. I don't have time to be familiar with anyone else."
"You run errands for Gaius," Arthur countered, "You must know everyone in Camelot by now."
"Going by that logic, you do too. Is there a single person's house you haven't searched?"
Arthur's face burned a warning signal.
"I don't know him, Arthur. But, he does seem to think I ought to be sainted for putting up with you. What did you do to him?"
"Nothing. I made him clean the mud, and I threatened to put him in the stocks."
"That's it?" Merlin laughed, then suppressed a pained grunt. "Why was there mud in here anyway?"
Arthur didn't like the way the situation reversed on him. Instead of the master interrogating the servant (as it should be), the servant was interrogating the master.
"That's none of your business," Arthur snapped.
"Maybe I'll tell Gwen that her prince likes to fling mud around his room," Merlin taunted.
"She already knows." Arthur sounded slightly pained.
"Really?" Merlin asked in surprise. Then, taking advantage of this information, Merlin asked, "Do you think she would tell me about it?"
Arthur paled slightly, "Of course not!"
"I'm gonna ask her," Merlin threatened with a smile.
"No, you're not," Arthur ordered, "You're fixing my armor. I need it for guard duty tonight."
As Gwen scurried off to complete some menial tasks her pathetic station required of her, Morgana crossed the room to her chest of drawers. She slid open the top drawer and lifted a set of keys from within. The same set of keys she had stolen in order to steal the crystal of Neahtid. Morgana smirked. She couldn't believe no one had gone through her stuff and found this during the year she was missing.
Satisfied, Morgana replaced the keys. Even though the keys obviously weren't going anywhere, she liked to check. It was an (unnecessary) reminder of what she planned for tonight. Also, looking at and feeling them again was, in a sense, a comfort. Morgana broke into the vaults once. No one caught her. She could do it again.
Tap, tap, tap.
"I can't believe how incorrigible everyone is today!" Arthur complained to his manservant.
"Sorry?" Merlin asked as he looked up from his task of minor armor reparations.
Arthur sighed, "Did you hear the nonsense in the council chamber?"
Merlin nodded nonchalantly.
"How are we supposed to catch those sorcerers when half my knights are taking unnecessary and CUMBERSOME precautions? Even when I tell them not to!" Arthur ranted.
Merlin furrowed his brow. Either Arthur was blowing something completely out of proportion, or Merlin had missed an incident. "What happened?"
"For starters! Sir Boris has taken to hanging bells around his neck!"
Merlin smirked, "Bell necklaces?" A part of him had expected something more bothersome. "That's it? You're upset because Sir Boris is making himself look like an idiot?" Merlin chuckled. Arthur was upset over decorum.
Arthur gave Merlin an exasperated look. "You don't understand do you?" Arthur snapped. His eyes suddenly narrowed. "You haven't seen the monstrosity," he accused.
Merlin shook his head indifferently and continued tapping the armor. He highly doubted that there was much of anything to see.
"It's this big!" Arthur motioned his arms to represent size. Merlin answered with a skeptical look. "I'm serious," Arthur said with a threatening look, "And he convinced some of the other knights to do the same."
"Wouldn't that break his neck? That's the size of a breastplate."
"There are bets on how long it'll take before it kills him."
There was a short silence.
"Whose bedchamber was Cara caught in?" Merlin asked without preamble. He had been dying to find out how anyone could come to the conclusion of her being a succubus. So far the only rational was the red leather.
"Cara? Who's that?" Arthur asked, startled.
"She's one of the maniacs that attacked last night. Blonde with the nasty sticks."
Arthur stared at Merlin quizzically, "How did you know what her name was?"
"Well, I was kidnapped yesterday morning. They screamed her name a lot. Apparently, she wanted to do something to me that they considered inhuman."
"From what I've seen of them, that's rather rich," Arthur said bitterly at the thought of the dead knights, kidnapping Merlin, and harassing Guinevere.
Arthur didn't voice it, but a corner of his mind worried that there was more to the kidnapping than Merlin had been saying.
Merlin meandered home, barely able to move his feet. He had originally planned to visit the woods today to see if the rumors were true, but he was too tired. However, even if he didn't check today, he was still indignantly certain that he hadn't burned down half the forest. Such devastation would be noticeable from within the citadel. Of course, nobody knew Merlin burned the woods in order to escape his kidnappers. The crazy crew was branded with the blame for the forest's state. Likely, those psychos had just enough sense to be the ones who put the fire out. Still, even if no one knew the true culprit, Merlin had to prove to himself that he hadn't done that much damage.
Today, Merlin hadn't completed even half the chores he normally had. In spite of that, he felt exhausted enough to have done triple his usual work. He had no intention of telling Gaius that. Merlin had to fight past his guardian to go back to work today. He couldn't afford to hear 'I told you so' and get thrown back in bed for the next few weeks. Who knew what those crazy people would think of next.
"Merlin," Gwen approached.
"Hey, Gwen," Merlin responded cheerily. He almost brought up Arthur's mud, but Gwen spoke first.
"Nobody's buying the story, Merlin."
"What story?" Merlin stared blankly.
"The cover story." When Merlin didn't show any sign of recognition Gwen continued, "The one about you falling down the stairs... and getting tangled in drapes."
"I've heard a lot of stories today. That wasn't one of them." In fact, no one had even mentioned Merlin's injuries today. He was slightly bothered by that. It wasn't that he wanted to be asked. He didn't want to go near the topic. However, it was eerie. Usually, even a small scratch could provoke a begging for an explanation from every other person.
Gwen looked surprised. She would have expected Arthur to at least mention the cover story to Merlin. She quickly explained all the details of the bogus tale.
"No one believes it though... except Morgana," Gwen continued, "Everyone else thinks Arthur maliciously beat you, or that you beat yourself to avoid work."
Merlin opened his mouth to speak. Arthur could be a prat. But he wasn't that bad. Then Merlin's jaw suddenly dropped much further. Sir Boris, hunched over, trudged by. Arthur had not exaggerated about the bell. It was a moment before Merlin could speak.
"People are willing to believe the wild stories about the invaders," Merlin motioned his head toward Sir Boris, "but not that I, a clumsy man, fell down the stairs."
Morgana crept down to the vaults. She clutched a small bag to conceal her quarry after she found it. Her eyes scanned the dreary room until they landed on what she sought. Two polished red sticks. They had been laid on top of the crate that contained the annoying little goblin.
Morgana had heard from various gossips that only those with magic could lift the rods without excruciating pain. The witch smirked. She reached out with her bare hand and grabbed one of the sticks.
She gasped in pain and horror. Her hand screamed in agony. She shook, still grasping the stick. It seemed an eternity before her fingers would respond. Morgana finally dropped the rod. It clattered on the ground.
The goblin's box shook ominously. "Hey! Who's there? Let me out! I'll grant you a wish," the voice tried to tempt her. Morgana wasn't interested in letting out the cretin that stole her healing bracelet just to lick it.
She carefully (and painfully) slid the magical sticks into her bag. Miffed, Morgana fled the vaults to the rendezvous.
Arthur walked through the almost empty corridors on guard duty. Some people would be shocked that the prince would spend a sleepless night doing something so easily delegated. He did not delegate it for two reasons. First, he demanded the same task of his knights. Arthur believed that a good leader proved to his men that he is willing to do everything he commands the soldiers to do, unless it is a punishment. Second, it is not unusual for necessity to demand of him to spend countless hours into the night fighting. Arthur felt that his chances of survival in the future were greatly heightened by keeping this vigil.
He rounded another corner.
"Morgana," Arthur said in surprise. "What are you doing up?"
Morgana looked just as surprised to see Arthur. "I just wanted to take a walk," She flashed a nervous smile.
Arthur's face turned serious. "You know," he said slowly, making sure she heard and understood, "that there are dangerous convicts on the loose?"
"I wasn't planning on leaving the citadel, Arthur. Unless, you're suggesting that you're not up to the task of protecting its walls," Morgana taunted.
Arthur jutted his jaw in exasperation. "Morgana—" He began, but then he noticed something. Arthur snatched Morgana's wrist. "Your hand!" He exclaimed, "What happened to it!" Morgana's hand was covered in angry welts.
"Nothing," Morgana said simply, "It's fine."
"Morgana! Look at it! That isn't fine!" Arthur reprimanded. "You should have Gaius take a look at it."
"Arthur, you're getting worked up over nothing. This is hardly something to drag an old man out of bed for," Morgana replied dismissively.
"Fine. Have Gaius look at it in the morning. Though, I think it could be a mistake to wait that long."
"I don't believe you're quite qualified to make that judgment," Morgana said coolly.
Arthur silently fumed at her words. Morgana took that as an opportunity to walk past him. It was true that Arthur didn't know the first thing about being a physician. However, he was a seasoned soldier. He was sure that he had a fairly good idea when someone needed to see a physician.
When Morgana reached the rendezvous point, a charred clearing, she sat and waited. The people who attacked the castle last night, whom Morgana released from prison after that, should arrive at any moment.
After Morgana had waited for several minutes, a female voice behind her said, "You've risked so much for us."
Morgana turned and jumped to her feet. "Of course," she responded resolutely, "Anything to bring Uther to justice."
"We are extremely grateful," the younger man said.
"What is your name?" the old man asked.
"I am the Lady Morgana. And you are?"
"I'm Richard Cypher, the Seeker," the young man jumped in. Morgana gave a quizzical look at the mention of his title.
"Don't worry about it," the dark-haired girl said gently to Morgana. "No one around here seems to know what a seeker is. I'm Kahlan Amnel, the Mother Confessor." Morgana wondered if they'd have enough time to explain what a 'Seeker' or a 'Mother Confessor' is.
The old man spoke up, "I am Zeddicus Zu'l Zorander, Wizard of the First Order."
Well, I know what wizard is. I suppose the the 'first order' thing is him thinking highly of his skills, Morgana thought, Let's hope that's justified.
"I'm Cara," the blonde girl said shortly.
Morgana was slightly disappointed. After hearing all the names of Cara's companions, Morgana expected something more interesting. Especially from a person who wielded such an interesting weapon. The sticks. She should probably give them back. Especially considering all the trouble she went through to get them. Gingerly, Morgana opened her sack.
"This belongs to you," Morgana said, showing the contents of the bag.
"Thank you," Cara said crisply as she took her weapons back and slid them onto her belt.
"How do you hold it without it hurting you?" Morgana asked. She wanted to know how to use it. Then maybe she would borrow it. Morgana imagined how she would love to torture and kill Merlin or Uther. Maybe she could make Uther watch as she tortured and killed Arthur...
"You don't," Cara replied pertly.
"What are they called anyways? I've heard many names. The witch's clubs, the smoldering sticks, the tortuous death, and," Morgana's personal favorite, "the crimson sticks of stinging death."
The group exchanged glances.
"It's called an agiel," Cara said.
Morgana hid her disappointment of the small, simple name. After hearing the different possible names all day she expected something... grander.
For the next hour, they exchanged information. Morgana explained the leverage she had in the royal household and announced that she had sent word to her (half)sister, Morgause. The Legend of the Seeker party explained what each of their abilities were. They avoided the topic of how they got here and how they expected to get home. That belief wasn't well accepted last time they spoke to a potential ally. Besides, it wasn't necessary information, and Morgana needed to return before she was missed.
The day was long gone. Arthur was no closer to recapturing the escaped sorcerers. How did they escape in the first place? He knew they had help. The guards were drugged. Arthur's first thoughts were that it was that mysterious traitor within the walls of Camelot. Now he was not so sure. Arthur worried that an innocent victim had been forced to help them. Merlin's words from the day before haunted Arthur. Merlin had specifically said, "Mind control." They wanted to control the boy. Arthur's blood ran cold at the thought.
It made a frightening amount of sense. First, they had opportunity. Then, the fact that Merlin knew Cara's name... Merlin had ample access to potions. Drugging the guards wouldn't have been hard... Merlin had insisted on coming to 'help' in the battle. Then, he insisted on coming back to work today. Was Merlin well enough for that? And the sorcerers seemed very interested in taking Arthur in the battle. Merlin, being the manservant, would have plenty of access to Arthur...
Merlin believed he had escaped. Arthur feared Merlin might be wrong.
We don't know if succubi exist in this particular realm. We're leaving that one open-ended. Nerd points if you knew what a succubus was without looking it up.
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