Sorry for the long time between updates. Real life and all that.

I hope you enjoy…

…

Chapter 10: Galahad returns

The familiar face was peering at him.

"Merlin! They are safe! The citadel was already empty when they took it. I knew they were coming and I rode as fast as I could. I arrived a few hours before they did. The Queen, the old physician, the knights: they are all safe! Do you hear me?"

The strong grip on Merlin's shoulders relaxed a bit and he was able to get a better view of this newcomer: the worn out traits, the long messy hair, the hunched shoulders…

"Galahad," said Merlin, amazed at seeing his old friend from Aria's Cradle.

They hugged briefly and then their attention returned to the people of Camelot. Many could be seen running through the fields and towards the hill. They would soon reach the top and realise that there was nowhere to go.

"You can make it rain, can't you?" asked Galahad, pressing a caring hand on his shoulder.

Merlin coughed. The sting of smoke and smell of burning wood was making him dizzy.

"It won't be enough," he replied to the knight.

Turning towards the fire, he raised his hand to the sky and bellowed, "Tídrénas!"

There was a crash of thunder and a rumbling up above. Suddenly tiny raindrops fell on Merlin and Galahad's hair. The drops became a heavy rain and finally a downpour. What was fire and heat quickly turned into a thick black column of smoke.

Yet, though he had made the hill safe, the forest beyond still showed signs of flames rising above the tree tops in other areas. Sparks of orange clearly showed that those woods were a death trap.

Merlin's chest felt too tight. Not nearly enough, he thought, glancing around in despair at the burnt trees. He could make it rain for days, put out all the flames, yet the damage was already done. The fire had destroyed the cover of the forest.

"I don't know which I like better. Burned or drenched," said Galahad, shaking his wet hair. "You're doing what you can… Oh! Look who's found us!"

Merlin wheeled around to see his horse Nuada striding through the smoke.

"He's the one who showed me where to find you," said Galahad while stroking the stallion's long mane. "That horse, he knows more about you thanyou do…"

But he was cut off by renewed screaming. This time Merlin did not need to look. These were not the dragon wraiths unworldly screams. These were the shrieks of men fighting for their lives and the panicked sobs of women and children

"FIRE! Fire in the woods! We must turn back! FIRE!"

Merlin barely had time to think that the people had already started to run back towards Camelot. However, it wasn't a safer destination at all.

His glance followed Galahad's. The knight had spotted this new threat first. A line of armed men, all dressed in black, had taken position outside of the city wall. They formed a deadly barrier. Nothing and no one was going to get through that gate.

"No!" yelled Merlin, in spite of his better judgement. "Come here! The hill is safe!"

But the people of Camelot were running blindly towards their enemy. In all the chaos, with the ominous shadows lurking overhead, what else could they do? They were like a trapped herd.

"I will not stand here and do nothing," Merlin said resolutely.

Before Galahad had time to react, Merlin had jumped on his horse and he was galloping down the hill, ahead of the crowds. Nuada seemed to know what he wanted to do before he had even made up his mind about it.

The stallion sped pass the frightened runaways and brought Merlin near the city gate. The young sorcerer touched ground and proceeded to send the horse away.

"This is my fight, my friend," he whispered to the horse's ear.

Nuada stamped his hooves in protest, but after Merlin repeated the command, the steed finally gave up and left.

The sorcerer knew that behind his back, the people of Camelot were running towards the wall. In front of him, a line of men in black – at least fifty of them – were aiming their sharp swords threateningly in his direction.

He took a few steps forward towards a particularly large man in the middle of the line and who also happened to be right in front of the main city gate.

"I will not let you harm these people," he cried out with as much self-assurance as he could.

He took a long breath to steady his nerves. Just imagine that you're Arthur, he told himself.

"What have we here?" snarled the large thug. "Is that a knight? Anyone can make a knight these days, even scrawny farm boys. Or are you a man yet? It's not easy to tell."

The sound of derisive laughter filled the air.

"If you charge against these people, you will die," Merlin said quite seriously.

"Are you threatening me?" said the large man. "You're the one who's going to die. In fact, I'll make you my first kill." He turned his eyes towards the wall where a sole cloaked figure seemed to give him an order with a glance.

Then he flashed a mouthful of crooked teeth at Merlin and bellowed a single command.

"CHARGE!"

With many growls and roars, the black men took off from their position.

But Merlin had been expecting this. In fact, he had been counting on it. His plan could not work otherwise.

Muttering the incantation under his breath, he gathered as much magic around him as he could. He called upon the powers of the earth on top of his voice. That alone was enough to make some of the thugs slow down their attack. Elemental magic was Merlin's strongest power. He had shaped it to his will many times before. It could turn a cloud of smoke into a galloping horse. It could turn heat into fire. It could turn water to ice.

And now he was going to shape something bigger. Much bigger.

The world around him seemed to slow down even as the army of thugs was almost upon him. He dropped to his knees to touch the ground with both of his hands. Then, concentrating all of his will upon the earth, he forced his magic to enter the dirt, to snivel through the cracks, to make its way in rock and stone. Down and around, he sent his magic. Like a drop of water following a tree trunk. Like a tiny ant making a home in the sand.

He lost track of time. He was feeling the dirt with his hands, burying his fingers in dust, hearing the sounds of every grain of sand moving underneath. It must have been seconds for the world, but for him it was a small eternity.

Then the angry roars of the mob turned into a loud rumbling. The ground began to shake. Tiny grains of sand and larger boulders alike were vibrating. The rumbling soon became a thunder; not from above, but from below. It crashed again and again, covering all other sounds. Then suddenly, a white light shot from Merlin's fingers and straight into the ground. It shook his body violently, making him almost loose consciousness. But he had to stay focused; otherwise he could cause the destruction of Camelot. He had shaped the elements before, but not quite like this. Turning all of his will on the earth underneath his hands and knees, he forced the light into it. He felt the effect before he even saw it. Under his command, and with a sound like an earthquake, the ground in front of him broke apart. Quick as lightening, the crack shot on both sides, following the walls of the city, bursting with an intense white light. The charging thugs began to turn back with panicked screams while the people of Camelot stopped their frightful race. The ground was opening up in front of their eyes.

As he heard the final crashing noise, Merlin knew without seeing it that the crack had run its course around the city. The circle was complete. It was now a trench, snivelling around the city walls, deeper a man's height and at last as wide as three horses in single file. At the bottom of it, a thick mud was already settling. It would take days just to build a bridge over it.

Someone screamed. "Sorcerer!"

Merlin looked up to see Morgause, her hood thrown back and her finger pointing directly at him.

"People of Camelot! Behold! A sorcerer in your midst!" Her eyes flashed full of hatred.

The next moment, she was surrounded by archers. Her hateful glared turned into an evil grin.

"Kill him."