"Can we hold the lower field?" Arthur shouted amongst the noise.
Leon, his face smudged with soot and dirt and blood, shook his head. "Not without heavy casualties, Sire." As soon as Gaius had patched him up, Leon had insisted in joining the fight.
The battle had begun soon after midnight. Camelot's army had barely had enough time to pack their camp and get ready. From where they were stationed at the east of the citadel, Annis' own troops had come to close ranks until both armies held the line just north of the citadel on what Arthur had called the lower field.
The Saxons poured out from the forest above the lower plain. They came with fire and attacked in waves. In-between attacks their archers sent sheets of flaming arrows from the shelter of the woods.
Arthur nodded. His knights were holding their own, but the lower field was not a spot easily defended. The Saxons would pick at them and retreat, until both Camelot and Caerleon's armies were exhausted and thinned out. Without Emrys' help their casualties would have already been much higher.
"We are stretched out too thin, Arthur," Merlin said as well.
Arthur nodded. "We need to give up the castle. Move beyond it to the higher ground. I have to tell Annis. Hold the line! Wait for my signal. "
Both Merlin and Sir Leon nodded and turned back to the fight.
As Arthur left to find Queen Annis, Merlin heard an ominous screech behind them. He looked back and saw Aithusa circling in the sky to the west of the castle.
"Morgana!" he shouted. "She's attacking the west flank. I have to get to her."
"We need you here, Emrys," Leon yelled back, through the din of swords clashing and men's cries. He reached out and grasped Merlin's arm. "If you leave now, they'll cut through our lines."
Merlin knew he spoke the truth. He was torn, caught between rushing to protect Arthur and protecting hundreds of soldiers.
"Just a while longer," shouted Leon. "'Till he gives us the signal."
Merlin gritted his teeth and turned back to Leon. He couldn't abandon the men now. They'd be cut down. He just hoped Arthur would return right away and not try to do something stupid, like go out on his own to fight the dragon.
Arthur ran across the field to the back of the line. He spotted Annis, and yelled his message to her. She nodded in assent, and sent the call for retreat to her troops.
Suddenly from the west, Arthur heard the screech of the dragon and heard the telltale sound of the attack. From the vantage point behind the lines he could see the west flank. The Saxons attacked them from the front, and now a new group of men was coming at them from the west, moving across the field to block their escape.
He called a few of his men to him.
"You there, give Sir Leon the order to retreat south of the castle," he barked the orders at the men. "The rest of you, with me to the west flank."
Without pausing, he turned and rushed westward. The fighting there was fiercest. The men there fought bravely, but they were pinned between two enemies. The white dragon came circling at them with fire and with claws that picked up men and threw them.
In the back of Arthur's mind, he started to realize he would not take down the dragon easily. He wished Merlin was with him, but there was no point going back now.
As he got closer, he shouted to get the dragon's attention. The knights around him fell into formation. He glanced left and saw Percival beside him, and on his right Gwaine.
"You didn't think we'd let you get a piece of this all by yourself, did you?" Gwaine said casually.
Arthur grinned. "To me!" he shouted.
The dragon landed twenty feet before him and stalked slowly to the right. Behind it, through the smoke and dust came a dark shadow, and soon Arthur recognized Morgana.
"Kill him!" Morgana shouted at the dragon. "Attack! What are you waiting for?"
The dragon shifted sideways giving Morgana a quick glance. Its wings were drawn in protectively and its head was held low.
Arthur frowned. He'd seen a horse look like that, when his rider pushed it to do something it did not want to do.
"I said kill him!" Morgana shouted and the white dragon twitched and started forward.
In that instant, Arthur noticed a hooded figure had made his way to his side. As he reached him, the man lowered his hood. He held a carved staff with a simple band of iron encircling it.
The newcomer held out his staff towards the dragon and spoke words Arthur didn't understand, but the beast was pushed back by an invisible wave.
"I am Alator of the Catha, Sire," the man spoke.
"A friend of Merlin's?" Arthur said softly so that Morgana would not overhear them, and Alator nodded.
"I will take care of the dragon," Alator spoke. He tossed off his hood and taking the staff in both hands like a weapon, he went forward.
The dragon bellowed and blew a torrent of fire towards him. Alator raised a blue shield before him that stopped the fire. Arthur had seen Merlin use that shield in the caves beneath Camelot, when he'd revealed his powers.
They circled each other, the dragon taking to the air and attempting to attack from above. Neither one could best the other, until Morgana stepped in between them and with a spell, knocked Alator off his feet. The staff flew out of his hands and as he struggled to stand, the dragon circled again and closed in.
Alator reached his staff. He rolled onto his back. From his position he saw, unguarded, the underbelly of the dragon. He knew a dragon's heart was on the right and not the left. In his mind he saw the choice: to shield himself and hope that another opportunity be given him, or to strike. He lifted his staff towards the dragon's heart and shouted his spell, just as Aithusa covered him in flames.
A fiery explosion broke out between them. The dragon was thrown backwards through the air and landed on the ground beyond. Soldiers caught at the edges of the blast were tossed outwards as well, Arthur, Gwaine and Percival among them.
When the blast had passed, Arthur rose to his feet. Reinforcements were arriving. Morgana's army was being driven back, and the men retreating. A few steps ahead of him lay the body of Alator. He twisted a few times on the ground and then was still.
Arthur walked forward, sword drawn, towards where he'd seen the dragon fall. He would see to it that the beast was dead before he left this battle field.
The dragon lay on its side on the charred ground. One of its wings was broken and twisted beneath it. The bone pierced out through flesh. A large gash on the right side of its chest revealed its beating heart. Blood soaked the ground around it. Its breath was harsh and weak. It made a pitiful keening sound of pain, and as Arthur came near it, its large blue eyes watched him in fear, without the strength to move.
Arthur stopped before the dragon, Excalibur gripped tightly in his hand. He raised his sword arm high above his head. The dragon sighed, its eyes still locked with Arthur's. It blinked and large tears spilled out and rolled to the ground. Its keening sound grew soft.
Arthur stood there, sword raised, muscles ready. He saw the dragon's tears and in his mind's eye, he remembered the way it had responded to Morgana's commands. It hadn't wanted to attack them. It had been afraid.
He remembered also from long ago, the white unicorn that he had slain, a creature of the Old Religion, and how he'd heaped misfortune on Camelot with his rash deed. This wounded creature seemed to Arthur so much more than the unicorn. All that Merlin had taught him came rushing to him, until he could almost hear Merlin voice in his head, "Don't kill it. It is a creature of magic, but it is not evil." And creatures of magic were now his subjects also. He was duty bound to give them justice.
He lowered his sword and took a step back. The dragon's eyes opened and met his again, and in them Arthur recognized an expression of surprise, and hope.
He looked around and saw Percival and Gwaine rushing towards him, swords drawn. Across the field, Saxons were pouring out of the forest in the wake of the retreating army of Camelot.
"Emrys! I need Emrys!" Arthur shouted at his knights. They stopped in their tracks, and Percival turned around to run back for the sorcerer.
"We have no time, Sire!" Gwaine bellowed. "The Saxons are upon us! The army is retreating. You must come away."
But Arthur didn't heed him. He turned around and placed himself between the fallen dragon and the incoming Saxons. His blade crashed against blade. Gwaine was at his side, but they were two men against hundreds.
And suddenly Emrys's voice rang strong and true behind them, and rows of Saxons were thrown back like twigs. Emrys advanced, his staff raised, and the encroaching army fell before him. Those that remained standing turned back and ran back into the cover of the forest.
"Of all the stupid things you ever did, Arthur Pendragon," Merlin started.
Arthur didn't let him finish. He grabbed him by the wrist and brought him to stand before the dying dragon.
"Can you heal it?" Arthur asked. The dragon's eyes, wide and luminous, watched him, mesmerized.
Merlin stared at Arthur.
"Can you heal it, Merlin?" In the heat of the moment, he'd forgotten to keep Merlin's cover, but none but Percival and Gwaine were around to hear it. Nothing seemed to matter except that the dragon should live. Dawn was breaking and the horizon was stained with blood-red light.
"She's become a creature of Morgana's evil, Arthur. She's dying," Merlin said, looking at the beast with pity.
"She?"
"Her name is Aithusa. I called her forth from the egg. A white dragon! She was supposed to be a good omen for Albion." Merlin shook his head bitterly.
Arthur stared at him open mouthed. "How much exactly do I still not know about you, Merlin?"
"It will take months, Arthur," Merlin replied dryly.
Arthur shook his head. "She didn't want to fight us. She feared Morgana. I could see it. Can you heal her?"
"It is beyond my power to do so," he said, and Arthur looked away in frustration. "But I know someone who might."
And raising his face to the sky, Merlin spoke the words that would summon Kilgharrah, the Great Dragon.
Soon they heard the sound of beating wings. The knights stepped back, their swords raised. Kilgharrah came, large and dark, blotting out the light. He circled above and landed beside the dying Aithusa.
"Merlin, you're going to explain this, right?" Arthur mumbled, his eyes glued to the dragon, his body in full defensive alert, sword drawn and knees bent. "Is this the same dragon I supposedly killed?"
"One and the same," Merlin agreed.
"It is obviously not dead. What exactly did I do to it, Merlin. Scare it away by fainting?"
"You called me, warlock, and I have come," Kilgharrah spoke.
"Right!" muttered Arthur, giving Merlin an irritated side glance.
"It seems to me we have not met in some time, yet the string of days is shrouded in mist." The Great Dragon's eyes narrowed. "You've chosen to turn back and travel a different path."
Kilgharrah turned to Aithusa. He looked at her sadly.
"Aithusa, The Light of the Sun," he murmured. The young white dragon wheezed in pain, her breaths weaker.
"Can you heal her?" Merlin asked him.
The dragon turned its head to look at him.
"If you wish it. It is within my power. But are you prepared for what it will bring about? Will you take the responsibility of her going back to follow Morgana?"
"I will," said Arthur, from Merlin's side.
"And so will I," Merlin added.
Kilgharrah stared at Arthur long and hard then sighed and bowed his head. He drew in a great breath and blew it across the white dragon like a shower of light. As the light dissipated, Aithusa rose to her feet, whole and new. She stretched out her perfect wings and flapped them. The gash in her chest was gone. The crippling injuries she got at Sarrum's hands were gone. She was a brand new dragon, perfectly formed.
"I have done what you asked, Dragonlord," Kilgharrah said.
"Thank you!" Merlin called, and Arthur echoed it.
The Great Dragon bowed its head and with a powerful flap of its wings, it lifted himself into the air and flew off towards the horizon.
The sun was rising in the east, its rays bright and golden. The redness that stained the sky melted into warm sunshine.
Merlin frowned and shielded his eyes. Behind Aithusa he could suddenly make out three figures. Three hooded figures each holding a staff. He grasped Arthur's wrist and pointed to them.
"The Disir," Merlin hissed.
Aithusa flapped her perfect wings as if to test them and then rose up into the air. Distracted, Merlin didn't mind the white dragon. If it was returning to Morgana, there was nothing to be done about it. The dragon had heard his name, and knew Merlin and Emrys were one and the same. He felt a stab of regret and worry of what future suffering they'd have to endure because of it. But in the presence of the Disir, all those thoughts were swept away.
The images of his dream came to him. The red sky. The battle field. The Disir and Mordred plunging Excalibur into Arthur's chest.
"Pendragon," the Disir said in unison. "You have fulfilled your promises to us."
Merlin's heart pounded, and then almost stopped beating altogether. No, they could not take Arthur away from him now. Not after all that he'd done. After all that he'd changed. Merlin stepped in front of Arthur, his staff raised, ready to take on the Triple Goddess herself if he had to.
"Don't be hasty, warlock," the Disir said. "We have not come to dispense punishment."
"Then why are you here?" Merlin demanded.
"The life of the white dragon has pleased the Goddess. In sparing it, Arthur Pendragon, you have spared your own." The three voices spoke as one, "Your doom is lifted."
The figures shimmered and faded, and they were left staring into the brightness of the rising sun. Merlin shielded his eyes and turned to Arthur. He felt stunned. His friend looked equally stunned and also humbled. A grin blossomed on Merlin's face, and he let out a loud bark of laughter, throwing his arms wide open. Arthur smiled sheepishly back.
"Oh, gods, Arthur!" Merlin shouted. "You big Clotpole! You Dollophead! You did something right, you golden Cabbage-Head!"
And then Merlin's arms went around Arthur and he hugged him tightly. Forgetting his age, he lifted Arthur off the ground in one big swoop. Arthur cried out in surprise.
"Oh, gods, my back!" yelled Merlin, setting Arthur back down.
Gwaine was almost doubled over with laughter as Percival rushed to Merlin's side to help him stand.