A/N: Concerning the way the last chapter kind of disappeared the other day: often has this... glitch, I guess, in which sometimes when you post a chapter it will show up only to vanish only to show up again, or the story will say there's a new chapter but it won't be there. This is not because of the author, this is because of the site. The chapter isn't gone, it's just a matter of waiting for it to reappear, which it will. I remember a few years back where this glitch kept happening all the friggin' time. I mean it seemed like every other day a fic would have a new chapter but you couldn't get to it. So believe me when I say this glitch isn't as bad as it used to be.

Ch. 6

The hill was silent save for the banners snapping in the wind. The sky had become overcast sometime during the night, and it made Arthur wonder if the natural world was feeling just as grim about the situation as he was. Everyone was lined up along the hilltop, their eyes fixed on the rolling hills as they waited for the giant to make his appearance.

Then he did. He crested a hill far in the distance, and his army soon followed like spilled ink spreading over the landscape. The giant's steps were slow and ponderous but the length of his legs made his arrival unnervingly fast. He had his club resting casually on his shoulder, while his cloak was barely stirred by the wind.

The giant smiled, showing filthy teeth.

"Are we ready to play?" he boomed. He let his club fall from his shoulder to rest its thick end on the ground. "I certainly am. Let today's challenger step forward."

The man who walked onto the battle field was dressed in heavy, cumbersome looking robes of deep blue and violet trimmed in silk. His head was bald and his face clean, and as he approached, the giant frowned, then shrugged, as though something about the man displeased him but at the moment it didn't matter.

"You may make the first move," the giant said dismissively, as if already bored.

The man lifted his hands, spat out strange sounding yet unnervingly familiar words, and a fire-ball launched from both palms straight at the giant. The giant spun around, presenting his cloak, and the fireball exploded harmlessly against the strange fur.

The sorcerer gaped. The giant glanced over his shoulder wearing a beatific smile. Then he turned and swatted the sorcerer with his club as though he were little more than a fly. The man went flying and smashed into a tree, where he crumpled to the ground. He didn't get up.

The giant sighed. "Such a pity. I was hoping for something a bit longer. Any other challengers wish to step forward? I would prefer this day to end with at least one true trial."

The next man to step forward was massive, his muscles so thick they were more like fat, giving him a round belly and legs like tree-trunks. And whereas the past two challengers had been like mice compared to the giant, this man was, at least, more like a mole. He carried a massive battle ax and was dressed in only leather breeches and a fur cape, as if his muscle alone would be his armor.

The giant smiled approvingly. "Now this is more like it," he said. This time the giant made the first move, and despite all the bulk, the challenger proved to be quite agile. He leaped aside, then went in swinging at the giant's legs only for the giant to side-step him. The giant swung again, only for the challenger to sidestep him. This went on for a good amount of time, each combatant going in, then dancing or dodging from the path of the attack, and the giant laughed.

Then he stomped his foot on the ground. The entire hill shook as if caught in a massive earthquake. The challenger stumbled, and when he did, the giant swung his club and sent the man flying with more force than the giant had used with the sorcerer. The challenger didn't just smash into a tree, he plowed through it. He plowed through several, thin enough to give way to his bulk and fall. When the man finally landed he, too, didn't get up.

The giant laughed hardily. "Oh, now that's what I call a good day," he said. He lumbered over to the fallen opponents, gathered them both by the legs and swung them over his shoulder like chickens to be taken to the butcher. The giant turned, and he and his army departed.

Arthur glanced toward the trees where he saw a flash of familiar red and brown as Merlin scurried down the branches. Arthur recalled Merlin's words from last night, and felt his stomach knot.

~oOo~

Merlin hurried down the tree, nearly slipping twice in his haste. He jumped from the last branch to the needle-littered ground, and once down he took off in a run.

A sorcerer and a giant of a warrior. A sorcerer and a warrior. And they couldn't even make a dent on that giant. Two men with years of knowledge and training, and the first was dead in a moment while the second was sent flying like a piece of wadded-up parchment.

Merlin staggered to a stop and leaned against a tree. He turned his back to the rough bark and slid down to the ground. His hands were trembling so hard he had to clasp them between his knees to get them to stop.

"What are we going to do, what are we going to do, what are we going to do…?" Merlin said, over and over again breathlessly, his stomach churning violently and his eyes stinging with the promise of tears. He gulped repeatedly, then took several deep breaths until he was relatively sure he wouldn't vomit. He pulled his still shaking hands from between his knees, cupped them and held them up.

Merlin spoke a single word of magic. Nothing happened. He tried again, pouring all his focus and concentration into the magic, and for a moment he was so certain he had seen a spark, a flicker, a flash of light there and gone. He tried again. Again. Again.

His cupped hands remained empty.

Merlin lifted his hands and scraped his fingers back and forth through his hair, making it stand up.

"What are we going to do?" he croaked.

Even if he could perform his magic, what did it matter? Nothing could touch that giant.

Merlin surged to his feet and moved at a fast walk back to Ealdor and his mother's hut. There he waited for Gaius to return from having observed the battle on the hill. Gaius soon stepped through the door, looking only momentarily surprised on seeing Merlin.

"I assume you saw the challenge as well?" Gaius said.

"Gaius, what are we going to do?" Merlin said, pacing. "You saw how easily that sorcerer was taken down. The magic that this giant possesses, it's… it's impossible, isn't it? I can shield against a spell but not that easily. That fire spell should have at least sent him staggering, but it was as though nothing had struck his barrier or whatever it was that protected him."

"I know," Gaius said moving to his books. He began sorting through them. "But it was his cloak that deflected the blow, thus why he turned his back on his opponent, which no seasoned warrior in their right mind would ever do unless they had a reason." Gaius pulled out several tomes and Merlin knew them well enough from research, rearranging and dusting them to know they focused on magical artifacts and enchantments."

"I believe the cloak may be the key to his power, or at least his protection," Gaius said. He held up a red-bound leather book before handing it to Merlin. "This one in particular talks of being able to enchant objects to hold a particular spell. Which, of course, is a magic we're both quite familiar with. However, the book also speaks of ways in which an object can hold more than one spell, and that's what I've been focusing my research on. I believe that it's possible the giant's cloak was created in a manner to hold much of his power."

"Like a magic staff?" Merlin asked, flipping through the book.

Gaius shook his head. "No. Staffs merely enhance power or direct large amounts of power. No, I believe the cloak actually holds power, and quite a large amount at that."

Merlin frowned at this. "But the book says that objects are limited in what they can hold, and that by using a constant bombardment of magic you can weaken the object's power."

"And that," Gaius said, holding up a finger, "has been what is hindering me in my research. See, that is the trouble with magic. There is so much it is capable of, so much that hasn't been researched or properly understood. You yourself are proof of that, Merlin. There are also ways of getting around certain limitations, certain spells that when combined the right way can do what most might think is impossible. Flight, for example. There was a sorcerer named Evland who had attempted to create a spell that would allow one to fly. He wasn't able to, and mostly ended up injuring himself in the attempt. Then he realized that rather than creating a spell that would make him fly, he would use a spell to make him lighter, light enough that he was able to leap great distances and land safely. It was later said that he was able to construct a pair of wings that actually worked when combined with the spell, but whether that's true or not is a thing of debate. At any rate, there are ways to get past the limitations of a spell or enchantment, and if that's so…"

Gaius shrugged helplessly.

"He really could be unstoppable," Merlin finished, feeling the blood drain from his face.

"Not completely," Gaius said. "Not if we can understand the nature of his powers."

Merlin snorted bitterly. "That's not going to happen, not unless we can get that cloak, or at least find out where he keeps going after every battle."

"Arthur is already working on the latter. He has men positioned to follow the giant. They should be reporting back to him at any moment."

Merlin's heart beat fast with a surge of hope. "Do you think his plan will work?"

Again, Gaius shrugged, looking grim. Obviously it was too soon to tell, but more than that this giant was proving himself to be clever, and had already proven himself to be arrogant and certain of victory. It could be that his location couldn't be found, but it could also be that his location could be found, but was so impenetrable that it didn't matter.

And with Merlin's magic refusing to do his bidding, there was little Merlin could do to help.

Gaius, on the other hand…

"Gaius, how are your enchanting skills?" Merlin asked.

"Not the best, to be honest," Gaius said. "Enchanted potions I can manage, but objects are, unfortunately, another matter altogether."

"But what if we kept the enchantment simple? Just as long as it's something that would be able to point in the direction of a source of active magic."

Gaius grimaced slightly. "That might be tricky. It would be simple enough even for me, yes, but until you actually came to the source of active magic, then whatever we enchanted would keep pointing to you since you are magic."

Merlin slumped, scraping his hand through his hair, then tossing his hands up. "It's the only idea I've got, Gaius."

Gaius nodded in sympathetic understanding. "Then we'd best get started."

~oOo~

It was midday when word finally came that Arthur's men had finally lost sight of the giant. The man in charge of delivering the news had been contrite, as though he alone bared the responsibility for what he saw as a failure.

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "It can't be a failure since this is only the beginning. I need to see where the giant was last spotted."

It was tempting to take as many men as possible should their search of the giant's last known location yield results. But with so many others trying to be the first to locate the giant, and being rather vindictive about it, the less conspicuous he was about their endeavors the better. He took Gwaine, Percival, Lancelot and the messenger, and had Leon, Elyan, Kay and Fenrick take a squad each and head out in various directions, keeping up the pretense of haphazardly searching just like everyone else with only the hope of stumbling on to something.

"The giant's path was deceptive," the messenger, Sir Tyron, explained. "He kept to the hills for quite a ways before suddenly turning to lead his army into the woods. It's a thick woodland, one you would think would slow an army of that size down, but it's in this woodland where we lost them."

While following Tyron to the location they came across the men Arthur had positioned along the hills to follow the giant. Arthur sent them back to camp for food and rest. Then they came to the woodland Tryon had spoken of, where another man waited as a marker. The underbrush was indeed heavy with ferns, fallen logs, shrubs and young trees, and the carpet of moss so spongey and thick that mere seconds after stepping on the stuff it sprung back into shape.

A giant's footsteps, however, not even spongey moss could recover from immediately, and Arthur and his men found several massive indents in the ground. But there were only five imprints before the footprints vanished, and moss having recovered.

"Do you think this is where he spirited off?" Gwaine asked.

Arthur sighed, rubbing his face and wishing that his father's hatred toward magic hadn't been so absolute that he hadn't even thought to prepare his men to counter magical attacks. Because that would mean having to teach them about magic, and heaven forbid that the knights of Camelot should know their enemy and have the means to counter them. That would have made life too easy.

Arthur rubbed at his aching forehead and tried to banish the bitter thoughts from his mind. Still, it amazed Arthur how much his father's prejudice had crippled him, and amazed him even more that Camelot had survived what should have leveled the kingdom to the ground.

Except Arthur knew why they had survived. At least, he knew now. Bitter thoughts became melancholy thoughts, but those he also shoved to the back of his mind. Regret wasn't going to solve their current dilemma.

"Spread out," Arthur said. "See if you can find any more tracks, broken branches or… I don't know, something off or odd or that you might think is magical in nature. Maybe he vanished or maybe he used magic to cover his tracks, but I don't want to leave until I know there's nothing to find. And mark where you've been. It's too easy to get lost in a woodland this thick."

His men nodded, and they split apart, each taking the opposite direction deeper into the woods. Every so often, Arthur would stop and gouge a mark into the trunk of a tree – a C for Camelot. But the further he went, the less there seemed to be to find, as if the very woods themselves were conspiring to keep the giant hidden.

A twig snapped somewhere in the distance, its crack sharp and jolting. Arthur froze like a deer, his heart hammering and his ears straining for any more sound.

"Gwaine?" he called. "Hello?"

No one answered. An animal, then, maybe a deer or badger. Arthur continued on but more slowly, his footfalls more careful and his ears taking in every noise from bird calls to a falling twig clattering through the branches. Arthur turned to another tree and made a mark.

And that's when something hard and heavy made violent contact with his skull. Day turned immediately to night for Arthur, long before he hit the ground.

TBC...

A/N: I am so, so sorry. No, really, I am. Timing decided not to be kind, I guess. I really hadn't intended to post a cliffhanger. Actually, I'd kind of forgotten there was a cliffhanger in this chapter ^^;