Chapter nine: Under siege

Once the town got held under siege at last a message from King Ecbert landed on the Round Table. Merlin though glared at the piece of parchment in disgust. "Surrender to my rule", the main message of the letter said. "I'm going to steal your land and crown, and I am prepared to do so by force."

No matter how elegant Barton tried to disguise the harsh words there was no way those who stayed loyal to the values of old could agree with the terms. Mercia would rule over Leon whose decisions had little weight left if Ecbert had anything to say about it. Worse than that the man out for conquest had not even acknowledged Queen Guinevere in his letter or his terms. All he had further mentioned were the vaults and how its contents would suffice as payment for their lives.

Word of Mercian rule had come from a crumpled Albion. It was whispered King Ecbert cared not for the people, not unless they paid incredulous high taxes and they obeyed his laws without protest. Ecbert was ruthless to the poor and he bathed his trusted Lords with riches, until he was bored with their grovelling. Some then got sent away. Others had disappeared and nothing was heard from them since a last disagreement.

"Sire, Milady, you must accept. It is the best way to end the siege before we get dragged into a war we can not win. A treaty of surrender will save lives, not only of this court and our knights, but of the people as well." At last Barton finished his useless, to Merlin's ears anyway, effort to unite the council behind one solution.

Leon looked at Gwen for confirmation; a wordless gesture which Merlin had seen them share so often since they got married. When she nodded in answer to his unspoken question Leon began to write his reply in name of them all. "We will invite King Ecbert and his consorts over for peace talks, but immediate surrender is not a viable option for these terms are not acceptable. The Queen and I refuse to sell Camelot for a gold coin to watch our people be enslaved in name of the rich."

"Hear, hear", someone muttered while Barton glared at the King in dismay. "But sire…"

Gwen held up her hand to silence him. "Our decision is final."

For all but the remainder of the day Merlin felt like the letter Leon signed in name of Camelot offered them a slight victory. Between the spoken lines during the meeting he had understood the quiet strategy which grew more solid the moment Percival excused himself. More than written words the exchange of letters offered them a precious delay from the oncoming fight to further prepare the knights, soldiers and the dozen trained magic users Merlin had instructed to defend the town.

Battle was inevitable, which Leon knew from his long experience as senior knight, and he acted according to that knowledge. Ecbert was a leader who craved power beyond all else. No one stood a chance against his greed… and yet, Camelot would not bow, not on Leon's watch at least.

By evening Merlin, Leon and Gwen walked along the battlements. The plan of strategy had at last fallen together, and they wanted to see for themselves that everyone was in place. Merlin assured the royal couple that the defence on the walls was stronger than ever before. He explained how the dozen of druids spread out around the town would each ensure the archer's arrows burned far more deadly. Their magical flames could not die, not for as long as their spell lasted anyway.

Sir Raynold bowed as they passed, sending Merlin a nod of respect in its wake. He smiled in turn when the knight laid his hand on the cloaked shoulder of his companion, a younger druid named Adair, who would aid him during the siege and battle ahead. The unprecedented sight of the two of them working so in tune together had Merlin feel proud even though he felt bitter about the reasons for it in the first place. At last knights and druids no longer feared each other's strengths and weaknesses…

No, the time had come when they could be friends. Raynold and Adair sure were an example of how foolish Uther had been to deny them all of such companionship. The two had found common ground in tactics, aided further by Percival's steady input for the gates of the town and their King's overall ground plan. Where Merlin had put protective spells into the mix it had been Adair who delved into a darker territory of magic. The iron arrows for one had each benefitted from his potions and further magical enhancement to fly faster to their targets.

As they walked further away from the two men Merlin realised that Raynold had not quite removed his hand from Adair's shoulder. In fact he squeezed it for comfort. The gesture betrayed the fact they'd become more than friends, for they were now brothers in arms. Looking back at them one last time Merlin saw them both stare towards the enemy camp in full alertness and tension of what came next. Camelot was as ready as it could be… and no matter the outcome, at least these two showed that the old values were not lost.


Chaos reigned the next night. Ecbert had not wanted to negotiate any further, and to Leon's sadness he attacked without any provocation or warning. Though his people were prepared for the battle Leon did not like the odds at all… and of course none of them did. Percival had done a rough headcount from the wall on the day before and he'd come up with numbers which suggested that for each Camelot soldier stood four armed Saxons.

"Fire…" Leon ordered the archers on the wall to rain down their arrows again and again, showering the enemy with sharp iron. To his dismay each fallen man got replaced by two more soldiers. The enemy was as relentless in their answering fire as they were in their attack on the drawbridge. Even from where he stood on high he saw how hard Percival swung his axe to fend off the foot soldiers aiming to get in through the gate.

On the southern wall Sir Raynold rushed passed him in a flash of chainmail. Leon smiled when a druid shadow followed in his wake. Quick he stepped to the side to let the two friends get on with the fight. Though Leon had come up to lead his men for a while he knew that he could rely on the fact most of the older knights would not surrender their station until he called them to retreat.

Done overseeing as a King ought to Leon unsheathed his sword and he joined the fight by the side of his knights, most of whom he had led under the guidance of Arthur. Parry after parry he fended off two soldiers and soon he sent them crashing back down to their deaths at the bottom of the wall. Blood spat into his face when a third one struck lucky, slicing his blade into his arm. Leon ignored the wet splashes in favour of meeting the man on a next blow. Not even aware of the pain due to the adrenaline in his veins Leon ripped into his opponent with a fierceness which belied his usual calm.

A Camelot knight appeared by Leon's side just when he struck the fatal blow. "I may be King instead of a knight now, but wielding a sword is as easy to fall to for me like riding a horse", Leon winked to the younger man who'd once been his squire. "Come with me… Percival needs more hands." They ran inside and down the stairs, gathering several more men along the way. Once in the courtyard Leon spurred them on to join his friend and knight commander in his defence of the main gate. "No one can get passed the bridge! If they do we're all lost. Go!"

Leon ran along with them, flashing a brief though wry smile when Percival gave him a grim nod of relief. Though his taller friend stood strong by himself he had lost many of his men and the defence of the bridge and gate suffered for it. Now stronger in numbers again they stood a better chance of keeping the enemy out of their home.

"For the love of Camelot!" Someone shouted, and after a breath Leon realised the old battle cry had torn from his lips. He threw himself in the fight then, because he was unwilling to think about the tragedy of loss and how wrong it felt to ask so much of the knights fighting by his side. Two younger men had fallen since he came… how many more would die on this small stretch of land?

An axe swept his way and Leon ducked just in time to avoid a direct hit. The swift move of the weapon ruffled his curls, but the iron did not touch his flesh. Not having the breath left to sigh his relief Leon put his weight back onto his left leg to swing his blade towards his enemy. Blocked on his first effort he tried again… and again, until something knocked hard against his head. In reaction to the blow he stumbled and fell down on his backside, twisting his wrist as he did. Stunned by the sharp burst of pain his trusted sword slipped from his blood covered hand…

But where Leon expected to get cut down a different shadow than he expected loomed up above him instead. A large hand reached out to offer him support to get up and Leon grabbed it in gratitude of the rescue. "Percival", he grunted out his pain.

"Inside with you", his friend wasted no time on pleasantries. Instead he shouted for a servant to take care of the king for him. "Bring him to the infirmary to get patched up."

Leon thought of protest, but Percival shook his head when he swayed where he stood. "Not a word. I've got this, Sire." In a flash his friend threw himself back to the fight while the servant tucked on his sleeve in a wordless request to follow orders.

Once in the infirmary, sitting on a stretcher amongst his fellow injured knights did Leon stop to think again. How had he gotten in here again? The world around him spun and his head hurt. Worse than that he felt a desperate need to get out there and see how his people fared in the battle. Worries for those he knew best, fear for what could be lost at any moment… his mind urged him to get back and fight, while his body refused to listen.

Leon tried to get up once more but a pair of gentle hands urged him down. "Leon… please, you're worrying me." At last the dizziness faded and Gwen's face swam into his still somewhat blurred line of vision. He tried to answer her, but instead a burst of debris and flames blew into his awareness just before the world turned black.


In the infirmary Gwen rushed about in one of her old dresses. She wasn't a servant anymore, but her royal dresses were too fine and elegant to move around in while working hard to help her people. Blood had seeped into the rougher cotton of her lilac dress. So many injured men, and each of their wounds needed attention. Gwen had lost count of how many souls she and the other women had tended to.

At her side she noticed that Hunith hobbled around to aid a blonde haired knight down onto a makeshift cot. A streak of blood was smeared on the older woman's face, but no one would stop to wipe it off. There just wasn't the time for it. In the past Gaius would have ordered them both around, but now Merlin dashed in and out of her attention. The odd spell set a leg, or closed a bad cut… and for that she was glad. To have his magical aid offered them all a touch of hope, even amongst the injured men who had not trusted Merlin to the full before.

A hand rested on her shoulder just as she stepped back from another patient with a tired sigh. She turned her head to face the owner and smiled when Hunith nodded to her as if she understood the burden her Queen carried for them all. Had Leon and her made the right choice to fight? Looking around the infirmary Gwen began to doubt that they could win. So many souls lost so far…

"We had no other choice", Hunith squeezed into her shoulder and let go. "One way or another King Ecbert will be the death of us all. He is too driven and does not want to listen to the people."

Gwen sighed, "That is not what Barton said. Why do you think he still insists Ecbert will be merciful should we surrender?"

Hunith shrugged before her eyes drew elsewhere. Following her line of sight Gwen saw how Merlin slipped out of the room once more to tend to his other duties on the defence of Camelot. As ever Gwen could not fathom how far her friend stretched his abilities on a dreadful day like today. "Two places at once. I don't know how he does it."

"He pushes himself hard, like we all do." Even as she spoke Hunith beckoned to a couple of servants who brought in another person in need of care. They both wasted no time in following them over to the bed where they laid the broken man down. Setting out to wash his wounds and bind them Hunith answered Gwen's earlier question at last, "I fear that Lord Barton is wrong to trust in Ecbert's promises. From what we saw in Ealdor the foreign King knows no mercy. Even the children… he struck them down, Gwen, for no reason other then what he calls victory."

Gwen heard the tremor of sadness in Hunith's voice and understood how what the older woman had seen still hurt her. It made her reach out to squeeze a weary shoulder in turn. "I know", she said. "And that makes it all the stranger he should side with Ecbert. Maybe I ought to talk to Barton one on one to find out his reasons why?"

"You could", Hunith mused. "But I have not seen him around in a while."

Laying the washcloth to the side Gwen looked around. Yeah, she too had not seen or even heard of Barton in a while. Earlier that evening he had walked around with a certain air of arrogance and self importance about him, but from the moment the first arrows flew through the air he had fallen silent. In fact he had disappeared to the point where she had not seen him try and persuade other people's mind to surrender in quite some time. What did it mean? Gwen had no clue, but she worried it meant nothing good.

Intrigued by his absence she was half of mind to go and find him, but then movement by the entrance of the infirmary stopped her dead in her tracks. Shock and a flash of pain filled her heart at the sight of her husband leaning onto a squire for strength. Blood seeped into his copper coloured curls and he held his wrist against his chest at a sickening angle. Panic threatened to bubble up, but Gwen swallowed it back down.

"Over here", Hunith ordered. Her calm reaction spurred Gwen on to move too. Like one they gathered clean bandages, a bowl of fresh water and the herbs which Merlin had told them would ease the pain of the wounded.

The moment Gwen reached her husband's side though she faltered at the lack of recognition on his by far too pale face. Hazy blue eyes avoided her; restless in movement and dull in glance, as if Leon could not quite gather his awareness together anymore. Was it the knock to his head? The wound half hidden by his hair scared her. "Leon? Please… love. Do you see me?"

"I must…", Leon's voice did not rise above a mumble. "They need… the knights…"

Catching only the odd word or so Gwen reached the conclusion that his mind hadn't quite caught onto where he was yet. "It is alright. Here… lie down, let us…"

A weak hand tried to thwack her efforts away. In the corner of her eyes Gwen saw that Hunith too narrowed her eyes at his slow and uncooperative behaviour, "Sire?" Not even the call of his title shifted Leon back to awareness.

Gwen tried a different approach then and caressed his cheek. "Leon? Please, you're worrying me."

Haziness blinked away to sudden alert blue which was by far more normal for the childhood friend she had grown to love over the seasons. Leon opened his mouth then to speak, but Gwen never heard the words for they died before they could form. In a flash of abrupt terror a ball of fire and a forceful shift of unnatural pressure blew into the full infirmary, sweeping into the room and the weak with devastating force. Was it magic?

Gwen had no time to even register the new arrivals or wonder about what hit her. All she could do was surrender to the same force which threw Hunith several feet through the air and knocked her friend hard into a wall. Her anguished cry of pain as Gwen threw herself over Leon to protect him ended on a whimpered last breath. In its wake a heavy silence of defeat and grief fell down over Camelot.