-23-

It had been so long since she'd had anyone to talk to that Ryll had forgotten how much she liked having a friend. Lancelot was fast becoming a friend. They seemed to have more in common than you would have thought possible for two strangers who met by chance. Lancelot was quietly kind and seemed to think only good things about Ryll no matter how much she told him about herself. She'd long ago forgotten hiding details of her life. Lancelot was easy to talk to and eager to listen. She soon found herself pouring out the story of her life. She shared her doubts and fears with him – her own insecurities about herself.

"You're not to blame," he'd said at once when she'd told him about unleashing the wraith.

"But so many people could have died."

"How could you have known? And you didn't let them die. You sacrificed your own life for them. You sacrificed everything."

"A whole lot of good that did. It landed me in exile with a death sentence hanging over my head if I ever return."

"Uther has no leniencies when it comes to breaking his rules."

"He's harsh. He's driven his own ward away because of his cruelty."

"Is it the Lady Morgana you speak of?"

"Yes. She's really the reason I came to Camelot."

"You saved her life."

"Yes."

"Merlin told me about that. About how you nearly died. It seems unfair that Uther should forget how much he is in your debt."

"I think I pushed my luck a few too many times," Ryll said laughing without humor. "One day all his acts of cruelty are going to catch up to him. He's going to lose even the ones he loves. I understand that he's king, but being king isn't about being all-powerful and having everyone fear you. It's about the respect and love of your people. It's about holding their opinions and needs in high regard."

"You'd make a good queen."

Ryll laughed at this. "A queen? Do you really think so?"

He smiled. "Your people would certainly love you."

"That's kind of you to say. No, I'm not sure I could be a queen, but Arthur, he will make a great king some day. He's already a much better man than his father. He follows his heart and looks out for others before himself. Yes, he can be a bit arrogant, but that's not really who he is. I'm afraid we rather got off on the wrong foot when we first met. I accused him of treating people poorly. He's changed though."

"I hold him in high regard. He was fairer to me than anyone I'd ever met. He still wanted to make me a knight even after learning of my identity."

"Uther's blind to think that royal blood is everything."

"Unfortunately that's not going to change." They sat quietly for a moment before Lancelot spoke again. "What are you going to do?" he asked. "You can't live in a forest the rest of your life."

"Where else can I go?" she asked.

"I'm not sure where I'm headed, but perhaps we could travel together – if you like. I would be glad of the company. We could find work somewhere, maybe find a new place to live."

Ryll did like the sound of that. She'd travelled too long and too hard, calling nowhere her home. Maybe it was time to put Camelot behind her and move on. She looked up at Lancelot. "Maybe we could," she said, smiling.

"Then it's decided. There's a village north of here we might try. I passed through it awhile back. It looked decent enough."

"I like that idea." Ryll laughed, feeling light for the first time in a long time. "I like the sound of starting over."

Lancelot stuck out his hand. "Partners?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Partners," Ryll said, taking his hand and shaking it warmly.

…

The village was called Meldoran and lay north of Camelot in the kingdom of Mercia. Ryll didn't feel at home on this land, but she hadn't felt at home in a long time. The villagers were suspicious of them, offering no greeting as Ryll and Lancelot entered the small town, leading Owl behind them. They had agreed to pose as a married couple for the purpose of blending in. After asking around – at first receiving only gruff replies – they found a small cottage at the edge of the town that was available. It had one room and a small lean-to big enough for a couple of horses and was set on a small plot of land.

"We can grow our own crops!" Ryll said, looking around the land. It was browned from the sun and untended, left abandoned by the former tenants, but to her it was full of potential. Lancelot laughed at her enthusiasm. "What?" she asked reproachfully.

"You're just so happy. It makes me happy too," he said. "It gives me hope."

"Well, we all need a little hope every now and again."

"It's been a long time since I've had any."

Ryll smiled and took Lancelot's hand. He seemed surprised at first, but squeezed her hand after a moment, smiling in return.

To Ryll this little falling apart cottage was everything. It was a real home. It was hers. She pushed aside the emptiness that always crept up on her when she thought of Camelot and entered the house, leaving Lancelot to tend to Owl. The entire house was one small room with a great stone fireplace and a cot shoved against the wall. A pantry was built into the wall on the far north side and a heavy oak table with matching chairs sat in a corner. There were two small windows – one at the front of the house and one at the back – hung with shabby draperies. A couple of logs were still stacked by the fireplace, and Ryll started a fire, chasing away the dampness that had worked its way into the house.

Lancelot came in, carrying their supplies. "I guess our blankets will have to do for now," he said, setting them on the cot.

"And the food we have until we can earn some money." They'd used up all the coins they had paying the first month's rent on the small cottage. "Tomorrow we can look for work."

"Who knew settling down could be so complicated?"

Ryll had to laugh at that. "It's almost easier to bunk down in the woods and hunt your food," she agreed. "But this is nice. I haven't had a place of my own since I was a child."

"Me neither."

They were quiet for a moment, and then Ryll asked, "Do you believe in destiny?"

Lancelot gave her a queer look. "Why do you ask that?"

"Because I think destiny brought us together so that we could have a second chance. If we hadn't met, we'd both be wandering around the wilderness. We wouldn't have a place to call home. We wouldn't have a friend." She smiled and he returned the smile.

"Then, yes," he said. "I do."

…

A hunting trip was Arthur and Merlin's cover but when Morgana came barging into Arthur's room the morning of their departure insisting that she come with them, the cover got difficult.

"Father's never going to believe you're coming on a hunting trip with us," Arthur told her.

"Why? Because I'm a girl?"

"Well, yes. That and you've never shown any interest in coming on a week long hunting trip with me before. He'll think it's odd."

"Well, I've already spoken with him and he thinks it's a good idea for me to get out of the castle and spend some time with you."

"And he wasn't suspicious?" Arthur asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Of course he was, but I convinced him otherwise."

Merlin was surprised at the amount of venom in her words. It was usual for her to be defiant toward Uther, but she sounded bitter and hateful in that moment. Their relationship seemed to be steadily declining.

"I still don't like it."

"You don't have to like it," Morgana told him. "I'm already packed. I'll meet you in the courtyard." She left the room.

Arthur sighed. "Sometimes I wonder how I have the patience to deal with her."

"She just wants to help. Ryll was like a sister to her," Merlin replied softly.

"I know that. We all want to help her," Arthur atoned in a more serious tone. "Well, I think I'm set. Let's go." He handed Merlin his pack to carry. Merlin sighed, shouldering both his and Arthur's packs before following the prince.

Their horses were ready in the courtyard, and Morgana mounted as soon as she saw them. She was clothed to travel and had her long black hair braided down her back. She wore a sword at her side as well. Arthur and Merlin mounted, following her out of the courtyard and onto the pathway at a steady canter. As he settled into the horse's gait, his thoughts wandered to Ryll. Would they get to her in time? She was more than capable of taking care of herself, he knew, but she was not expecting these men to come after her. Hadn't someone once told him that only honorable men could enter the tournament – they were nobles after all, and so by Uther's thinking, they must be honorable. There was nothing honorable about murdering a girl in cold blood though.

What would it be like to see her again? He could see the surprise on her face. She'd be glad to see him – at least he hoped. It still was difficult for him to accept that someone like Ryll – someone who had once been involved with the prince of Camelot – would ever look twice at him. But she had. It can't ever lead to anything, he told himself. She had been banished, and he had his duties in Camelot. They had agreed that this wouldn't hold them back. They had to go on living their lives as if nothing had ever happened. Merlin could continue on with his life, but he refused to just forget her. He had tried to forget his feelings for her, but the prospect of seeing her had roused them all over again. That flutter in his heart when he thought of her face. The rush of excitement to hear her voice again. He couldn't just ignore that. Ryll was anything but ordinary. She wasn't someone you just forgot.

"We'll ride until sunset and then rest for the night. It will be about a three day ride to the forest, and then we have to actually locate her in the forest. I'm hoping Merlin has some bright ideas about how to handle that." He looked back at Merlin who didn't react. "I would say I'm joking, but I'm really not," Arthur said, his tone was not amused. "If this leads to nothing, I'm going to be rather irritable."

"You're always irritable," Merlin interjected.

"Not as irritable as you apparently." Arthur frowned. "What's got your trousers in a knot?"

"Ha ha," Merlin said sulkily. "I'm just worried, that's all."

"Are you going to be all silent and moody now?" Arthur asked.

Merlin didn't answer. "Oh leave him alone," Morgana shot back, frowning at Arthur.

At dusk they made camp. Merlin set the fire and cooked the meal as usual. Morgana was preoccupied and Arthur sulky after being ignored most of the day. Usually it was the complete opposite – Merlin was the talker and Arthur was always telling him to shut up. But Merlin didn't feel like talking. His worry grew each day. By the third day of their journey, he was feeling nearly frantic. He didn't know if this was some foreboding or if he was just worrying too much.

"We're about to cross into Mercia," Arthur told them. "King Bayard is still on good terms with Camelot, so we shouldn't run into any trouble." They crossed over the border and stopped their horses to look ahead for a moment. Merlin could see a line of trees up ahead.

"That must be the forest," he said.

"So how do you propose we find her?" Arthur asked.

Merlin hesitated. "Well, we can try tracking her, but I doubt she would have left any tracks. Let's start on the main path and see if we can find somewhere she could have made a camp." He pushed his horse forward, leaving the others to follow him. As they reached the edge of the forest, Merlin paused. He'd never attempted anything like this before, but now he shut his eyes and focused on Ryll and locating her. He opened his eyes and, with the help of his magic, saw the forest in a different light. It was as if Ryll's essence glowed – wherever she had been now had a soft glow that could lead them straight to the spot. "This way," he told Morgana and Arthur, leading them into the woods. Neither questioned him, though Arthur looked unsure.

They reached what looked like an abandoned campsite half an hour later. "Someone was definitely here," Arthur said, motioning to a fire pit. "But where did she go if this was even Ryll?"

"Let's keep moving." They rode on until Merlin stopped them again. An arrow protruded from a tree trunk a few yards away. "That's one of Ryll's arrows," he said. He plucked it from the tree. Had she been hunting or defending herself, he wondered.

"It's getting late," Arthur told him. "We should make camp and resume our search tomorrow. We have to face the possibility that she's moved on. She could be anywhere. Those men may never find her."

"They can keep tracking her," Merlin replied.

"Well, we can't do anything in the dark," Arthur insisted. Merlin relented, tucking the arrow into his pack. Ryll's essence had faded from the forest. She had moved on, he knew. But where?

…

They set up camp quickly, setting a fire and enjoying a warm meal before turning in for the night. Arthur didn't think it necessary to set watch. They hadn't come across any form of life in the forest, and if Ryll had been living there, obviously there weren't any serious dangers to be found – at least Merlin hoped. He had trouble falling asleep as he lay watching the fire crackle. Ryll could be anywhere. It was a big world, and she didn't know they were trying to find her. Maybe seeing her would make it all the more difficult to live without her. He'd had to say goodbye once, could he really go through that again? This time instead of watching her leave, he'd be the one leaving. Why am I thinking about leaving already? We haven't even found her yet? But leaving was inevitable. He couldn't stay and she couldn't come back. It was as simple as that. And yet nothing about it was simple.

He turned over, shutting out the light of the fading fire and closed his eyes. He thought he had fallen asleep and was dreaming for a moment, but then he realized that he was hearing voices. He sat up, on alert. Straining his ears, he could just make out the sound of a man's voice and then another responding. They were too far away for him to make out what they were saying, so he stood, creeping toward where the voices came from.

It took him nearly fifteen minutes to navigate the forest in the dark while trying to stay as quiet as possible, but he finally came to where the voices were. There was a fire too, and he saw two men sitting next to it. A map was spread out on the ground next to them.

"I just don't get it," one of the men said. "She should be here. Somewhere."

"We've been scouring the forest for a day now, and we've seen no sign of the girl," the other man snarled impatiently.

With a jolt, Merlin realized that these must be the men who were after Ryll. He looked down at the map. In the light of the fire, he could just make out the small red dot that marked Ryll's location.

"Maybe the map is faulty," the first man suggested.

"It had better not be for the amount of gold I paid for it."

"Maybe you need to put the blood against it again."

"I don't need the map to track her!"

Merlin kept his eyes on the map, hoping the men would go to sleep soon. Ten minutes later, they grew weary of their argument and lay down. A few minutes after that, Merlin heard their breathing slow, and one of the men began to snore.

Merlin took his chance, slipping forward silently and taking the map. He stared at it in the firelight, and as he touched it, the red dot began to move north until it stopped on a tiny dot titled 'Meldoran.' That was where Ryll was, and if the men didn't have the map, they couldn't find her. Merlin rolled up the parchment and snuck quietly away.

Tomorrow they would make their way north and warn Ryll of the danger. But without the map, perhaps there would be no danger. When Merlin reached their camp, he lay down again, clutching the parchment to his chest. This time sleep came easily, and he dreamt of a future where everything was different.