Gold

Chapter Two

"Merlin," a woman's soft voice flowed through his mind. "Merlin".

Merlin sat bolt upright in bed and looked around fearfully.

There was no one there, and nothing was out of the ordinary. He frowned and he brought both hands up to his ears to stick his fingers in them to clean them out. He listened again.

Nothing.

Not even Arthur yelling at him that he was late.

Nothing at all in the blackness of the night.

The hoot of an owl was loud enough to make it's way through Merlin's shuttered window all the way from the forest outside of the castle. If he really strained to listen, Merlin could just about hear Gauis snoring from the other room. Gauis didn't always snore, but he was particularly tired that day after dealing with a baby with measles.

There really wasn't anything else for Merlin to hear, but unlike a week ago, when he thought the voice had started to call out to him, he was definitely aware of it now and it bothered him. He was sure that someone was calling out for help, a woman.

He sighed and fell back to his pillow and was fast asleep again within seconds.

He woke up again as the sun was rising, but he hadn't slept well again. He hadn't had a proper night's sleep since these dreams had started a week ago. But after he'd gone back to sleep again last night, not only could he hear her voice, but he was sure that he could almost see the ghostly grey outline of the woman, long, flowing hair fanning out around her, her long and flowing dress doing the same, as if she were underwater. And like being underwater, she was just an outline- a dim image in his mind that was fast disappearing.

He groggily sat up, swinging his legs around to rest his elbows on his knees and massage the back of his neck with his hands.

With a deep breath, he got up and rubbed his eyes hard until he saw stars in his vision and got dressed.

He was up before Gauis this time and so he sliced them each some bread and a little cheese, halving an apple to share between them.

He ate his and left the rest for Gauis for when he woke up, and then went to find something for Arthur.

Merlin kept his head down while he walked to he kitchen's and back up again to Arthur's chambers. He didn't see anyone as the other servants seemed to be just as busy that early in the morning preparing the castle for the nobles. He was deep in thought and he was frustrated. He felt like he really ought to be doing something- anything, really- just to help this woman. He was sure she was desperate for help.

He opened the door and left the breakfast tray on Arthur's table as per usual. Gwen was just leaving the chamber as he walked in. She smiled.

"Good morning Merlin," she said as she finished adjusting her hair. "Arthur's already awake."

Merlin smiled back at her, his frown instantly melting away as his dear friend spoke to him. "You had that honour then?" he laughed.

Gwen laughed back, more so when they both heard Arthur's put-out voice wafting out from behind the privacy curtain.

"I heard that!" he said, voice slightly raised.

"Have a good day," Gwen said, squeezing Merlin's arm as she walked past him.

"You too my lady," he said.

"Merlin," she chided him as she got to the door. "It's Gwen, you know that!"

And she left, smiling.

The exchange had made Merlin forget his thoughts entirely.

He got out Arthur's clothes for him and took them around to the bed.

"Morning Sire!" he said, injecting as much cheer as he could, as usual. It made his day to see Arthur's face in the morning when he was overly cheerful, and their banter was good for both of them.

Arthur got out of bed and allowed Merlin to help him dress. "Yes," he sniffed. "It will be. We're going on patrol. Nothing like some fresh air," he said.

From his position adjusting Arthur's belt, Merlin looked up at Arthur, raising an eyebrow slightly. "By 'we', I assume you mean I'm coming too?"

Arthur smirked at him. "Of course- I need you to carry everything!"

Merlin finished and stood up, his shoulders slouching in defeat.

"Of course you do," he said, sighing.

An hour or so later, Arthur, Merlin, Sir Gwaine, and Sir Leon were on horseback making their way towards the borders of Camelot by the road through the forests. Merlin could tell that while Arthur was generally in a good mood, the current situation with the grave-robbing was bothering him intently.

The most recent reports had seemed to point towards the grave-robbers looking for something in particular. Sometimes they took things from a tomb if there was anything worth taking, but quite often, they just left everything alone. What had at least caused some relief for everyone hearing these reports was that the dead themselves were usually left alone. They clearly weren't bothered with the people, just the riches.

"There is something else, Sire," Leon said, as he finished telling Arthur the most recent report about the bandits. "There seems to be a certain type of tomb that these men are going for, and that's any tomb either within ancient castle ruins, or within caves and rock. If there is a tomb under the earth, then it is ignored." Leon patted the mane of his horse, Hafaleil, to alleviate his discomfort. He didn't want to show any weakness, especially in front of his King, but the very idea of the dead not being able to rest bothered him greatly. There was a silence for a moment and Leon stole a look at his comrades. Even Merlin and Gwaine were silent, so Leon took that as a sign that they were all disgusted by the knowledge contained within the report. He felt marginally better, but he continued to pat Hafaleil.

"Well then," Arthur finally said, nudging the reins of Sigral, "we should send out patrols to all the ruins and rock tombs in the realm and warn our allies in the neighbouring kingdoms to do the same, if that is indeed what they're aiming for."

"We're coming up to the village of C'aer Gog, Arthur," Gwaine finally spoke up to say. He rode up to be next to Arthur and pointed through the approaching treeline towards the clearing ahead where many a thatched roof was to be seen. "Maybe we can finally get a drink!" he said, trying to lighten the mood by just being himself.

Arthur grinned, resisting the urge to cuff his own knight playfully around the head. He checked around the make sure that the unusually quiet Merlin was still with them, and seeing him trying not to nod off on his horse's back in the warmth of the summer's day, Arthur rolled his eyes and yelled back- "MERLIN!"

Merlin jumped a foot, although by some miracle, he didn't fall off Peronell's back. Arthur made another exaggerated show of rolling his eyes so that Merlin could see, and he was gratified to see that Merlin at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Sorry Sire," he said, the blush searing his cheeks. Gwaine laughed, and even Leon forgot his discomfort to genuinely smile for the first time in quite a while.

Only Peronell seemed to take Arthur's outburst and Merlin's jumpiness completely in her stride and without reaction- she was used to these strange, sometimes loud, creatures who looked after her well and whom she served well in return.

As they came to the treeline and looked out over C'aer Gog, they could see that the village was actually quite large and busy, having been granted a charter to have a market. It wasn't market day that day, by the look of it, but it was still important enough to be busy. They made their way towards the tavern, much to Gwaine's delight, the colours of their Camelot cloaks shining brightly in the sunshine against the browns of the buildings. Without question, all the people they rode past bowed, lowering their eyes in deference. At the tavern, which Arthur said was the best place to get information and food as well as drink, he conceded to Gwaine, they got off their horses and handed them to the stable-hand there.

At any other time, Arthur would be wanting to keep a low profile and not show off his royalty. It just wasn't his style, but at this particular time, he wanted information and this, he had to admit, was the best way to get it quickly. The four of them walked into the tavern where the low hum of conversation between the locals and tradesmen and the raucous laughter in the corner immediately stopped and all eyes stared at them.

Arthur held up a hand in mild embarrassment and turned to speak to the giant of a tavern-keeper behind the bar who was polishing a tankard. He faltered when he caught Arthur's eye.

"Sire!" the man said in a heavy accent. He straightaway took out four tankards for the King's party and filled them to brimming with ale and placed them in front of Merlin who took them to the table that Gwaine and Leon had occupied, leaving Arthur to talk to the tavern-keeper. "On the 'ouse Sire," the man said.

"Thank you, Sir," Arthur said. "What is your name?"

"John, Sire," he replied.

Arthur nodded. "Well John, my friends and I," he gestured to the others at the table who were watching him while talking, keeping their voices low. The other chatter in the room had started back up again too, but Arthur kept his own voice low as well so as not to cause concern. "Are in need of information. We have been hearing reports of bandits doing unspeakable things to places of rest. We are travelling to find out for ourselves what stories have come your way."

John leaned forwards, conspiratorially, and picked up his rag and tankard to carry on polishing. Arthur leant forward also to better hear what he was about to be told.

"Well Sire," John began, "we 'ave indeed been hearin' the stories of grave misdeeds with nary a thought for common decency." He looked around to make sure he wasn't being overheard and then looked back at his King. "We 'eard a bloke in 'ere the other day- 'e's gone now, mind- tellin' us about these bandits. Seems to be the right ones that you'll be lookin' for. Said that they'd come to 'is village askin' about the castle ruins nearby- turns out, they be lookin' for the old castle of Arosslegne within the realm of Nythfa."

John leant back again, knowing that he'd dealt some very interesting information to the King.

Arthur stayed where he was and he leant his arm against the bar. "Arosslegne? Nythfa?" he asked, looking quizzically at John. "But that's a myth, it doesn't exist."

John smiled at the King knowingly. "Not in these 'ere parts," he said. "Nythfa and Arosslegne come from a legend with roots in the real world. It tells of Queen Alianor, a powerful sorceress and benevolent woman well-loved by her people who was betrayed by another sorcerer and a rogue who were in cahoots with each other."

"I've heard the legend," Arthur said, half wondering how John knew the word 'benevolent', "but a kindly sorceress? Really?" He said it as if he were scoffing at the idea, but it was only half-hearted. His views on magic were definitely friendlier than Uther's views had been. John, wisely, stayed silent. The King was famously a just king, but John didn't want to push his luck, especially as the King had been gracious enough to come into his tavern.

Arthur brought his finger up to his chin, tapping it thoughtfully. "I have heard of the realm of Nythfa though," he said, almost to himself. "Old history lessons." He looked up at John again. "Was there anything else you could tell me?" he asked the man.

John shook his head ruefully, "Sorry Sire, although me wife could probably fill you in a little more- she spoke to the man for a little while longer. 'E seemed right keen on 'er," and to Arthur's surprise, John laughed at that comment. "My Rose- she can make men buy many a pint!" He turned and spoke to someone behind him whom Arthur hadn't even realised was standing there all that time, so small was the woman compared to the enormous man before him. "'Ere, Rose, tell the King more about that man sayin' about Arosslegne," and he gently moved his wife before him. Such a small and pretty woman she was, that Arthur could scarcely believe they were married- she was tiny, although buxom, and had lovely golden wavy tresses and a coy look about her, but a ready smile.

"Good day, Sire," she curtsied behind the bar.

"Good day, Rose," he replied. "What can you tell me?"

"The man said that the thieves were after Arosslegne for the legends- the riches of the Queen Alianor. Legends in these parts say how she kept a great cavern of gold and wealth in reserve, should any plague or drought come upon the land and people were in desperate need. She was a very wise woman you see, Sire." Rose had a quiet voice, but Arthur could hear her easily, even above the rising din of the tavern and the raucous laughter which had started up again. Rose sighed in sympathy for the mythical Queen. "Well Sire, she was betrayed, although legend has it that one day she will wake up to take revenge on those who betrayed her and on anyone who tries to take the wealth of the kingdom of Nythfa."

Arthur leaned back and blinked.

Rose looked at him. "That's all I know, Sire," she said, curtseying again.

"Thank you Rose," he said.

She curtseyed again and left to attend another patron, seeing that Arthur didn't need her anymore.

He turned to finally join his friends at the table and drank his ale, grateful for the cooling drink in the hot weather.

"What did they have to say Arthur?" Merlin asked, having not taken his eyes off him the entire time they'd been separated.

Arthur put his tankard down and leaned in to tell the others of what he'd been told.

"I've heard of this tale," Gwaine said. "It's quite well known in certain parts of the land. Queen Alianor is something of legend, and people sometimes call her the 'Golden Queen', in part because of her riches, and I think sometimes in part because of her golden eyes because she was a sorceress, and also because it was such a golden time in which to live- she really was that wonderful, or so I've heard," he said.

Arthur nodded in agreement. "I've not quite heard of that, but I've definitely heard of the legends of Arosslegne, and the realm of Nythfa is actually mentioned in the court records. It's absolutely ancient- Camelot and Mercia, and so many other realms didn't even exist back when Nythfa was around. Part of Nythfa's lands are now within Camelot's borders."

"Even in Ealdor, we'd heard of the Golden Queen," Merlin piped up. "After a good harvest, there would always be a festival, and in the deep of the night, that's when the stories would start to be told by the village elders who had been told the stories from their elders when they were little, who had heard it from their elders, and so on. Well," he carried on swiftly, "The legend of the Golden Queen was a favourite story and it was always told."

The others were quiet. Arthur liked it when Merlin told tales of his village life back home in Ealdor. It was a simpler life, and it held such a sway over Arthur at times.

Gwaine, for his part, had once visited Ealdor at the time of a harvest festival, and he smiled, looking into the distance for a moment, remembering the time as a very pleasant time.

Leon, who had a thoughtful look on his face spoke up. "It is interesting, is it not, how reverently people mention this Golden Queen, despite her being a sorceress. Yes, there was clearly an evil sorcerer in the story, but the story doesn't try to be moralistic and say what is right, and what is wrong. It just tells a tale."

Arthur and Merlin both kept quiet at that, each for their own reasons.

"So where to now?" Gwaine asked, finishing his ale.

Arthur looked up and then finished his ale as well. "We'll travel to the next market town and then we'll go back to Camelot. I want to speak to Geoffrey and Gauis about Arosslegne, Nythfa, and this Queen Alianor. They know the castle and the land records better than anyone in Camelot. I want to know what it is they know about it."

This was agreed upon by the others at the table. They finished their drinks and left the tavern.

As they left, Arthur leaned over the bar again to speak to John. "Thank you, John, for the information." He looked back at the empty tankards. "And thank you for the drink. Generosity like that is remembered well," he said, and he left with his knights and Merlin, leaving a beaming John behind the bar, still polishing the same tankard.