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Ryll pulled the saddle from Owl's as she and the knights made camp for the night. Arthur and Merlin were there too, Merlin unsaddling Arthur's horse as well as his own. Ryll sent Arthur a scathing look which he met with wide-eyed innocence before grinning cheekily and turning away. "Make sure you get dinner going, Merlin," the king said. "I'm hungry enough to eat a horse."

"You know, it might do you some good to learn how to cook for yourself," Ryll said loudly. Arthur turned his smirk to her.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, a nice lesson in humility."

The knights laughed. It felt so good to be back with them on quests, teasing each other. It was like having four older brothers. They set to making a fire, Ryll and Leon going for wood. Merlin struggled to set up the pot for cooking stew.

"Want something fresh?" Ryll asked, pulling her bow and quiver out.

"You don't have to go far," Percival said. "Just check Gwaine's boot."

Ryll smiled as the knights doubled over in laughter. She exchanged a look with Merlin before setting off into the woods. It didn't take her long to shoot down two fat birds. The woods were ripe with them as spring lengthened toward summer. Ryll would be celebrating her fifth year in Camelot soon. She couldn't believe that much time had passed. She felt like she'd been there forever as if a past before Camelot never really existed. She hadn't forgotten where she'd come from or the troubles she'd been through, but for the first time in her life she felt as if she could start anew. She could choose the life she wanted to live. That life was right here with the knights, by Arthur's side, with Merlin close by as always.

She returned to the camp where the knights offered her a round of applause for her kills. She curtsied before offering the birds to Merlin. She helped him skin them and make the broth while the knights joked around and chatted in the background.

"Are you glad to be back?" Merlin asked.

She smiled at him. "It feels like I never left. I was wrong to have turned away from being a knight."

"We all have times when we don't feel as if we can keep going. The important thing is that you came back after it all. You always do."

"No thanks to you." She sent him a warm smile.

Merlin shook his head. "You don't need me to get you back on your feet. You've never needed anyone. But I'm happy to be here."

"Alright, enough of the sappy talk," Gwaine cut in.

Ryll threw a bowl at his head. "Don't forget we're the ones serving you food," she warned. "You'd hate for my hand to slip and spill your serving on the ground."

"You're all talk," he said. "You wouldn't do that to your favorite knight."

Ryll just rolled her eyes. "Always about you," she muttered under her breath, smiling all the same. Before the knights lined up to eat, Ryll poured two bowls, hiding them behind a stack of extra logs. She gave Merlin a wink. The knights would not be hogging all the food tonight and then teasing Merlin pretending as if they hadn't left him any. She knew their routine. Sure enough they all lined up, forcing their way in so that Ryll and Merlin had to back up. After they'd sat down and started eating, Ryll pulled her and Merlin's bowls out and they sat together. Ryll lifted an eyebrow at the knights who looked surprised. Gwaine gave a mock bow, and Ryll smiled smugly.

After they ate, everyone piled their bowls into Merlin's grudgingly outstretched hands. It was the usual routine, and Ryll had ceased to be amused with it a long time ago. She opened her mouth to protest, but Gwaine threw an arm over her shoulder. "Spare us the lecture, we're only having a laugh," he said.

"At Merlin's expense."

"It's alright," Merlin said, stumbling under the load of bowls.

"I'll help you," Ryll said, joining him at the river that ran a few paces away.

"Thanks." Merlin gave her a smile. It didn't take them long to finish the dishes though the others did not volunteer to help. Some things would never change.

Ryll curled up next to Merlin later that night when the others were settled. He was asleep in seconds, snoring softly, but Ryll found herself wide awake. The noises of the forest that usually put her to sleep kept her awake tonight. She heard an owl far off and then two echoing cries of night larks. Elyan was on night watch, but she could tell he was getting sleepy. She was about to offer to take over, giving up on sleep when she heard a shrill cry. They both started, Ryll sitting up straight.

"What was that?" Elyan asked, looking over at her.

Ryll shook her head, drawing her sword. "I'm going to go have a look. You stay here."

"You shouldn't go alone."

"I'll be fine. I'm quiet as a mouse." She drew her hood over her head to hide her golden hair and stole into the woods. With her grey traveling cloak she blended into the shadows perfectly. She kept her sword close to her side and avoided spots of moonlight where the metal might send off a reflection. The cry had come from a quarter mile west by her reckoning, and she soon saw hints of torchlight up ahead. She ran forward, bending low, and knelt down in a patch of bushes. She pushed them carefully aside and peered through. A caravan was passing by on a well-worn path. Horses pulled the caravans and men walked alongside holding torches and swords. What drew Ryll's eyes was the cargo the caravans were carrying. People. Men and women and some children hardly out of their young years. Slave traders. It sickened Ryll to see this. The selling of other humans was strictly forbidden in Camelot. She and the knights had been travelling toward a village that had been raided three nights before. One of the villagers had come asking for help. She had been the only one left in her village. It seemed as if they'd caught up to the caravan sooner than expected. Ryll watched for a moment longer before sneaking back into the woods to warn the others.

…

"Arthur has gone to help a village to the west," Agravaine said to Morgana. "He rides out with his most trusted knights. And Merlin of course."

"Is that what you came all this way to tell me?" Morgana asked. Agravaine was always trying to please her, make himself useful. But most often he simply tired her.

"I just thought it might be a good time to speak to you. I'm growing concerned about Amaryllis."

"Ryll? Why?" Morgana turned her eyes to Agravaine.

"It's no mystery that she does not like me. She has made that very clear since she resumed her duties as a knight. I've been nothing but friendly to her, but I think she suspects me."

"She is very close to Arthur. You must take care, Agravaine." Of course Ryll would figure out that Agravaine was working with her. Ryll was nothing if not shrewd.

"How can we continue our plans with her guarding over Arthur like a watchdog?" he asked. He was clearly unsettled by Ryll, and Morgana felt a stab of pleasure. She did enjoy watching Agravaine squirm sometimes. "If she suspects something she will waste no time in telling him. I've seen her hunt down evidence until she is able to accuse someone. Just last week she had a travelling jester thrown into jail after someone finding out he was trying to sell illegal potions to the girls in the lower village. She's more competent than all the other knights, and Arthur trusts her completely."

Morgana contemplated this. She knew there was one thing Arthur did not know about Ryll. One thing that would completely destroy his trust in her. She wasn't sure she was ready to play that card yet though. Ryll could still be of some use to her. She'd never join Morgana willingly, but what if Morgana didn't give her a choice?

"Maybe what she needs is something to make her forget her allegiance to Arthur," Morgana said.

"What did you have in mind?" Agravaine asked, sitting down at the table across from her. Not for the first time Morgana thought he was making himself far too much at home. She pushed her annoyance back.

"A simple enchantment that will make her change her mind about joining me. I will be able to control her to a certain degree. All we need is something she wears everyday. I think I know just the object. I need you to steal the necklace she wears and bring it to me. I can't risk going into the city. Do you know the one?"

"I think so. It's got a pink stone. She never takes it off."

"That's the one."

"How do I get her to take it off?" he asked, looking frustrated.

"I'm sure you'll think of something. Don't draw suspicion though. She doesn't need more than a nudge to make her suspect something. She doesn't trust people easily."

"I know that."

"Here." Morgana got up and went over to one of her shelves, picking out a small vial. "This is a sleeping potion. It should knock her out for a couple of hours. You can take it off her neck as she sleeps. Just slip this into something she drinks. Just make sure you get it to me and back to her before she wakes up. Use the whole vial."

"I'll do it the moment she returns to Camelot," Agravaine assured her, standing.

"Good. It's time she made herself useful to us. I'm tired of her meddling in our schemes." Any hopes of manipulating Merlin or Gwen or the knights were useless when Ryll was there. She was always on alert for danger, usually several steps ahead of Morgana.

"What of the druid boy?" Agravaine asked. "Will he help us?"

"Byron is waging his own campaign right now. He supports us though." Byron had proved very helpful, an unexpected ally in Morgana's fight to win the throne of Camelot for herself. He saw as she did that her ascending to the throne was the only way their people were ever going to live in peace. He would make a good advisor when that day came.

"Good. Well, I'll return as soon as I have the necklace." He picked up the vial and tucked it into his pocket.

Morgana watched him leave. Sometimes when she looked around the hovel she was forced to live in, she felt as if she'd never triumph. Was it her fate to live here, hidden away, persecuted for being who she really was? Without her sister there to encourage her, Morgana found hope harder to reach every passing day. Ryll had always been one to encourage her. She'd always been looking for something to give Morgana hope. Morgana had built up walls to protect herself after Ryll had betrayed her. She realized Ryll must feel the same way – that Morgana had betrayed her after all those years. Morgana just couldn't understand how Ryll could live under Camelot's shadow for so long, hiding who she was. Was it really worth it for a serving boy she professed to love? She knew Ryll was close to Arthur, but Arthur would not hesitate to cast her out of Camelot if he knew her secret. He would spare her, of course, but their friendship would be ruined. Part of Morgana wanted to shout Ryll's secret to the world, but she knew that was rash and childish. After everything, she wasn't sure she wanted to hurt Ryll that much.

Her thoughts swayed to Emrys, the sorcerer she'd dreamt about. The one the keeper of the dead had said was her fate and her destiny. She had been sure Ryll knew who Emrys was, but Byron had reported back to her that Ryll knew nothing. Morgana was suspicious that the druid boy still harbored feelings for her, but perhaps under her control Ryll would divulge Emrys's location. If Morgana was being completely honest with herself, she was missing Ryll. She wanted so much for her to support Morgana's cause. Why couldn't she see that the world Morgana envisioned was one where they could finally be happy and free of persecution? Merlin. He was always getting in the way. As soon as Morgana took control of Ryll, she would see if she could use Merlin to her advantage. He was close to Arthur. He might be perfect for her plans if she proceeded carefully. Morgana smiled. With luck, everything would go her way, and she would be rid of Arthur soon. Camelot would be hers.

…

When Ryll returned to the camp, Elyan was standing in the center, sword ready. A wave or relief passed over his face when he saw her. "What did you see?" he whispered.

"Slave traders. It looks like they're the ones who took the villagers. That was bold of them. I've never heard of them raiding an entire village. There are a lot of men though. I'd say close to thirty."

"And six of us."

"Seven." Elyan gave her a questioning look. "Merlin isn't completely useless, you know."

"Right. Of course."

"We can take them. If we free the villagers they can help us fight. I have a feeling they would be more than happy to. It makes me sick that those horrid people raided their villages to sell them as slaves. What kind of person believes they have a right to own another person?"

"We'll free them," Elyan assured her. "Help me wake the others."

They shook the others awake, and Ryll explained what she had seen. Arthur nodded when she had finished. "Good job. Now we'll be outnumbered, but I have no doubt of your skills. I think Ryll's idea of setting the villagers free as we fight is a good one. We could use the extra help, but we should also get the women and children to safety."

"Leave that to me," Ryll said.

"I'll help," Merlin put in.

"Good. Those who want to stay and fight may do so. With luck we can get the slave traders to surrender."

"Just get Gwaine to start small-talking them," Ryll suggested. "They'll give up in no time."

"Haha." Gwaine gave her shoulder a shove.

"Ready?" Arthur asked.

"Always."

"We split up. Surround them. On my signal we attack," Arthur instructed.

They nodded in agreement and moved forward as one until they could hear the telltale rattling of caravan wheels. Arthur motioned for them to spread out, and they moved off into the woods. Ryll and Merlin went together. Merlin had no physical weapon, but Ryll knew his magic was weapon enough. They positioned themselves at the back of the caravan, waiting for Arthur's signal. When it came – a low whistle that blended in with the night – Ryll and Merlin burst from their hiding spot. The other knights ran onto the road, shouting out battle cries, swords held high. The slave traders stopped, spinning around in surprise. A few grabbed for their weapons before the knights reached them but were quickly disarmed. Ryll barged her way forward, knocking out two men as they reached for their swords. Merlin sent three more flying backwards with a flick of his magic. When they'd cleared the way, they approached the last caravan in the lineup. Ryll broke the lock with her sword, and Merlin opened the doors.

"Come on, you're safe now," Ryll said. "Anyone who wants to stay and fight, please do. You won't be thought a coward if you don't. We need someone to get you to safety."

The women and children hurried past, fathers and brothers followed, some electing to stay behind, grabbing thick branches from the side of the road to fight, and some going to protect those who escaped. They moved onto the next caravan. The fight was going poorly for the slavers, and Ryll didn't think they'd hold out much longer. Even though they outnumbered the knights, they were scattered and disorganized and seemed to realize they were beat. Ryll opened the second caravan. One left. The fighting surrounded the first caravan, and Ryll had to fight her way to it. Several of the slavers looked at her in astonishment as she fought onward. She cornered a man at the back of the caravan.

"But you're a woman," he said as she disarmed him.

"Not just a woman," Ryll told him. "A knight." She brought the hilt of her sword down on his head, and he slumped to the ground. They released the final caravan, and the people ran off to join their fellow villagers. It must have been several villages, the amount of people the slavers had crammed into the caravans.

The battle was soon won as the remaining slavers held their hands up in defeat, letting their weapons drop to the ground. The knights ushered them into the caravans they'd kept their cargo in, tossing the unconscious in as well. They shut them tight. The villagers wandered back, praising the knights of Camelot and thanking Arthur. One little girl ran up and hugged Ryll around the knees much to her surprise.

"I want to be just like you when I grow up," she said.

Ryll smiled down at her, patting her head. "And maybe some day you will," she said. "We could use some knights just like you."

The girl smiled widely before running off to rejoin her parents. Ryll noticed Merlin watching her and smiled shyly. "Not sure what that was all about," she said.

"They look up to you," he told her. "You're a role model."

Ryll flushed. "I'm not so sure about that."

"I am." He gave her a grin. "One day they're going to sing songs about you and write poetry."

"Who is?" Ryll asked, giving him an amused smile.

"Everyone! Bards, poets. There will be legends about the first woman knight of Camelot."

"Well if there are going to be legends about me, there most certainly are going to be legends about you. Legendary servant of Arthur. They should give you a medal."

"I'm not sure there's a medal big enough for that achievement."

…

The villagers made their way home without fear of danger, and the knights rode the slave traders back to Camelot to await their judgment in the dungeons. As Ryll walked up the castle steps after dropping off Owl in the stables, she was greeted by Arthur's uncle. She stopped short. The last thing she wanted to do was speak to him. Nothing about Agravaine felt right. He was too quick to try to convince Arthur to do something that wasn't, in her opinion, in his or Camelot's best interests. He was always too eager to be in Arthur's favor, and something about the way his eyes darted around whenever Arthur was discussing something important made Ryll uncomfortable. She knew Arthur trusted him, but she did not. The fact that he'd been asking Gaius about Emrys was as much evidence as she needed to be convinced he was somehow working with Morgana.

"Ah, Ryll, I was just hearing about your valor tonight in the battle." He smiled encouragingly at her.

"Oh, well thank you. It wasn't just me fighting though. Everyone did the job well. Even Merlin knocked out a few slavers."

"I was hoping to offer you a celebratory glass of wine. I made the offer to the others, but so far Gwaine is the only one who accepted."

"He would," Ryll said, forcing a smile. "Thank you. That's very kind, but I'm afraid all I want to do right now is go to bed." Dawn had already risen, but she hadn't slept at all the night before and was dead on her feet. And taking a drink with Agravaine was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Ah, of course. Well perhaps another time."

"Perhaps." Ryll gave him a smile before passing him to enter the castle. She found her way to her room and managed to change out of her armor and into her nightclothes before collapsing onto her bed and falling into a deep sleep.

She found herself in a clearing strewn with dead leaves and dim light. Something was wrong; she knew that at once. She wasn't in danger herself but in danger of doing something she would regret.

"I'll ask one more time. Who is Emrys?"

Ryll turned to see that Morgana was pacing around her dressed in all black, her once beautiful hair like a crow's nest. Her pale face was filled with hatred, and Ryll wanted to shrink away from it. Instead she stood where she was.

"I…" It was like a physical strain not to answer. "I don't know," she spat out.

"But you do know. I can tell that you do," Morgana insisted.

Ryll felt a tugging on her mind, felt herself relenting against her will. "He's…" She fought against it.

"Yes?"

"He's…" Ryll closed her eyes knowing that she could no longer control her will. She opened her eyes and looked straight at Morgana. "Merlin," she said the words and they could not be taken back. "Emrys is Merlin."