Hello from Ichibancon! I am in North Carolina where my friends' and my panel group was asked to provide panels at the convention, so after a gueling drive here, I am enjoying the hotel immensely. Lol
And yet I still managed to find the time to write. I'm proud of me! 8D
So thank you to everyone at the Heart of Camelot site! Not only did they listen to me gripe about having to write a siege, they helped me with several writing sessions that helped me push through! I hope you all are happy about the results!
Reviewer Responses
Glacier22: Yeah... Merlin does tend to get the short end of the stick of... everything. Doesn't he?
StarWritingFlute200: Hope the answers to your questions is everything you hoped! Lol
MegamiTenshiHime: Everyone in my stories is always screwed. Always... every single time. XD
Liv it up 124: Lol, I love Gwaine. I have found that I really enjoy writing Gwen. I have always loved her character and I think that it makes her a lot more fun to write for. She's got her own type of BAMF.
CaptainOzone: You're right. I'm not, LOL. I got this idea that Morgana is using the druids as her main strength and intelligence in her army, but the rest of the mercenaries and bandits are basically just there to fill space so any idiot with a desire for gold would have wound up on her side. XD I like the elders too. I've pretty much been developing the ideas for them since I started writing the story, so to finally see them come out was a lot of fun!
blackcallalily: Done!
IndiaMoore: Here 'tis!
Angeleye87: Once again, not that I mind PM's, but here's the next chapter! Hope it was soon enough for you! XD
Emrys Is Merlin: Always her, innit?
DairyMilk123: Glad you like Sword!Merlin! And yeah... worried about my mental health is probably the direction to go there. LOL I got really into the Hawking thing during my research for this story, and I'm glad it has come across so well. And you haven't weirded me out, hun. Not only do I got to anime conventions, I have thought the same thing. XD Actually I think I originally planned on putting a line about that somewhere earlier, but it just never felt right.
1983Sarah: Yeah, Dayla has appeared as quite the enigmatic character through the story, but I wanted to try and reinforce that she is still, in essence, a child. She was forced to grow up quickly simply because of the nature of her family's duty, but even more so after what happened to her family. I got the feeling that Gwen would bond strongly with her simply because of Gwen's compassion.
lilyflower1345: Yeah, when I came up with the idea for Sword!Merlin, opening Arthur's mind to understanding was one of the things I was excited about. The idea that Arthur would get a glimpse into true magic was something I loved writing. And it isn't over yet!
AmberW: Eeee! Thank you!
Alright, here we go!
The night was long and painful. Small glimpses of sleep were caught in between the spasms of his shoulders and the sharp pain radiating from his ribs. Each breath felt as though it were being torn from his chest, and he called upon every bit of experience he had with broken ribs to calm himself and simply get him through the night. Several times he attempted to speak to Merlin, though the concentration it required to direct his thoughts or the physical strength it took to raise his voice were absent within the span of two or three tries. Even if Merlin had replied to the king, his mind was too fuzzy with exhaustion from the fight, the day's ride and the pain from his injuries to comprehend what had been said. In the end, perhaps an hour of actual sleep had been gotten, snatched only when his body had reached the absolute end of his energy reserves.
The air in the morning was even colder than it had been the night before and a shiver pulled Arthur fully alert. From what he could tell, the knights at his sides had slept through most of the night (the bastards) and only came to when the large wooden door in the left of the room rumbled open. Meurig was leading the small procession of elders inside; the impassive Rowan helping Rhodri in the door and depositing the old man against the wall. They were not dressed in the robes from the day before, but traveling clothes with a sword at each hip. A flick of Meurig's hand signaled five armed men to flood the room, drawing swords and aiming crossbows at the three prisoners.
"I hope your stay was satisfactory," mocked Meurig. Beside him, Rowan pulled out a large set of iron keys and made his way through the mercenaries toward the king.
Arthur smiled. "Oh of course. I might replace my bed with a set of these," he laughed, tapping the wall behind him.
"Arthur!"
The king sat up straighter, looking around as though fearing the enemy would catch on. But like the night before, the words seemed only whispered in his mind. Merlin's voice was much louder and stronger than it had been and it filled Arthur with a cautious hope.
"Be ready!"
Arthur's mind spun for a moment, forcing energy into his muscles like winding a rope tight. He snapped his fingers quietly, then flattened his hands against the wall and tapped twice, hoping the knights noticed and were ready.
Rowan knelt before the king and grabbed the heavy lock that hung from the manacles.
And then something snapped.
There was a rush of air from the opposite side of the room, followed by a bright flash of light and the sound of metal on stone. Magic rushed into Arthur's mind so fast he nearly flinched. The group of mercenaries turned their weapons toward the commotion and Arthur saw his chance.
He opened his hand.
The instant the cool metal of the hilt was in his palm something felt complete within his mind. It was not Merlin's mind that belonged within his, but the sword itself that belonged in his hand. His body moved almost of its own accord. From years of training and battles fought, there were instincts so engrained in his mind that he could fight some of the younger knights without the slightest concentration. His shoulders loosened and the pain in them ebbed away. The broken rib that had been pushed to the back of his mind snapped back into place with nothing more than a slightly uncomfortable click and a mild wince. A deep thrum resonated in his chest as Merlin's magic flooded him, running through his arms and slamming violently into the manacles that held him bound. His left hand gripped tight the druid's shoulder and his other thrust the sword forward.
Before Arthur fully came to himself, he was staring into Rowan's lifeless eyes.
"Rowan!" screamed Meurig. At his side, Rhodri seemed ready to faint and leaned against the back wall, slowly moving to stand behind the larger druid.
The cry of their patron seemed to spur the already-anxious mercenaries- it seemed a feat that none had shot the knights out of surprise at seeing a sword fly across the room into the king's hand and then immediately kill a man- into action and every single crossbow in the room loosed its arrow. Arthur stood and Merlin's magic spread quickly around him and his knights like a large pair of protective arms. The bolts slowed, then spun and shot back at those that had fired them, impaling legs, torsos, and even one neck.
Arthur wasn't sure he was ready to admit it to anyone- even himself- but the return of magic to his mind was like breaking the surface of the water and taking his first gulp of pure air. His mind and emotions were once again mixed with Merlin's and he could feel the servant smirk.
" Sorry that took so long," he said.
Arthur smiled as well and waved the sword across his front, the tip brushing the stone at his feet and sending a few sparks flying. The manacles holding Percival and Gwaine shattered and the two men stood, rubbing away the soreness on their wrists and eyeing the mercenaries with confidence. "I thought you were meant to be good at this, Merlin. The best in fact," chuckled Arthur. The king's eyes flashed gold and two of the sword-wielding men were yanked forward as their weapons were wrenched from their grasps. The hilts were presented to the knights and they happily took them. "A simple druid stuffs you back into your gem and it takes you a whole night to break out? Perhaps we should warn all the druid tribes that Emrys is a bit of an idiot." As one, the three aimed their swords at the last bandit. He hesitated no longer, dropping his sword and dashing back out the open door, the unarmed and uninjured men hot on his heels.
"Emrys..." whispered Meurig suddenly, taking a step back. "Emrys is here?" he demanded.
Arthur held up the sword, pointing at the gem fixed to the hilt. "Here."
At first, Meurig floundered for a way to react, but a glance over his shoulder seemed to suddenly bolster his confidence. Rhodri's voice rose above them, shouting in a foreign tongue and Arthur's body suddenly locked up as it had the day before. He screamed as another containment spell tore through him. Fire crawled down his back and through each bone in his body. Pain burst into his head, forcing his eyes shut.
But just as soon as it had come, it was over. He did not fall completely to the ground. Almost immediately after his legs gave out on him, they strengthened and he caught himself on one knee. The magic had been pulled from his mind again, but something about this spell felt different than the one the day before. His body rebounded and he leapt to his feet, forcing himself forward and slashing down at Meurig with all his strength. The large man pulled his own sword and steel clashed against steel. Gwaine and Percival rushed past their king toward Rhodri and Arthur could hear the old man muttering short spells to defend himself.
Meurig was a better swordsman than Arthur would have figured for a druid elder. Each slash was parried, and each attack difficult to dodge.
"Whether Emrys is somehow helping you or not, your kingdom will fall! Morgana is besieging Camelot as we speak!" cried Meurig, swinging down his sword with one hand and bringing his other fist around to slam into Arthur's previously-damaged chest. Arthur did little more than grunt at the impact and he silently thanked Merlin's magic for healing him. He brought his mind into a sharp focus but unlike before, Merlin's magic did not respond. The containment spell had once again erected a wall between the magic of the sword and the king's mind, but something about this wall seemed unsteady. It was a dam beginning to rupture. "Even if you were to make it out of here alive, your city will fall long before you can reach it!" cried Meurig, bringing his blade down on Arthur with strength enough to buckle the king's knees beneath him.
Though they had been bolstered, Arthur's shoulders screamed the weight of Meurig's strike. "Just as you shouldn't assume that Camelot is helpless without her king," he began, tipping his sword and sending the strength of Meurig's swing down to the stone beneath them. Arthur was at his side in an instant. "Don't assume I'm helpless without my warlock." The point of the blade slid easily between the large man's ribs and reappeared between his neck and shoulder. The light faded from Meurig's eyes almost instantly and Arthur let the large man fall from his blade. A pool of red began to form beneath him, the blood sliding into the cracks between the stones and snaking its way toward the fallen body of Rowan.
"NO!" Rhodri's scream echoed in the small room and Arthur felt himself blasted from the side. The magic that was suddenly loosed suddenly threatened to overwhelm him. He lost his footing and flew back toward the wall where he and his knights had spent their night. His back slammed against the stone, expelling the air from his lungs and he struggled to breath in again. The pressure that had sent him flying did not retreat: it continued to compress him as though it was trying its best to pulverize the king. A glance to his sides told him that Gwaine and Percival were in the same predicament. Gwaine's small frame was light enough that his feet were off the floor and he was held completely aloft by the pressure.
"Your reign has ended!" shouted Rhodri, his green eyes wild and manic. "Morgana Pendragon will bring true peace to this land, and our children will finally be at peace!"
SNAP
The pressure released and Merlin's magic flooded his mind again. His body reacted and as his weight relaxed back onto his feet, he gripped Excalibur tight. A wave of sympathy washed over him as he thought about the old man's words the night before. Such pain and grief had been inflicted upon the druid people, and this man was but one of the victims driven to madness by his loss. But whatever Arthur may have felt for this man was completely cleansed from his mind at the thought of what he would see done to his kingdom and its people. "I'm sorry," he muttered quietly before throwing the sword with all his might at the druid. The blade impaled itself through the old man's throat and he collapsed into a heap.
Arthur held out his hand again and the sword sailed into his grip. The instant his hand touched it, a shiver of discomfort and no small amount of disgust ran up his arm. He glanced at the blood-stained blade. "Merlin?"
"Oh that was horrible," the servant moaned.
Arthur rolled his eyes. "It wasn't that bad Merlin. We came out alright."
A tense silence followed. "Have you ever been plunged through a man's gut?" he suddenly demanded. "Wipe the blade off, will you?!"
Arthur paused at Merlin's outburst, but obeyed and grabbed a thick cloth from one of the fallen men and rubbed it down the blade. He could feel it was barely clean enough to satisfy Merlin's sensibilities, but he threw the cloth down anyway and shoved the sword into his belt.
"We have to get to Camelot!"
Gwaine and Percival exchanged a look and hurried after their king.
"We're at least two days ride from the city, Sire!" cried Percival. The cave outside their prison was mostly deserted except for one injured crossbowman, who leaned against one of the stone pillars, a hand gripped tight around his bleeding leg. The three paid him no attention and dashed toward the entrance of the cave. "How are we to get to Camelot in time?"
A pair of druids met them at the cave entrance. One of them pulled a knife and the other held out a hand. Arthur growled. He had no time to be held up again. He held the sword before his body, and the wave of magic that the druid threw at them rebounded and sent the druids flying.
The camps outside were full of men, but none bore the black cloak of the enemy druids. They scrambled away from them and the knights and their king were premitted access to the road that would lead them back to where their horses had been tied.
"We have to trust that the knights can hold Morgana's forces at bay until we can get there. I don't suppose you could figure something out, Merlin?" asked Arthur. "Perhaps speed the horses?"
"I think I can do a bit better..."
Arthur nodded and pushed Excalibur into his belt. "If it gets us to Camelot in less than two days, I will take it."
~ooOoo~
It started as a sound.
The instant her energy had connected with the gem of Taliesin, the city's layout had been in her head; in her heart. As magic exploded against the shield around the city, Dayla heard it as though it were happening in the very room she was in. But as the day wore on and then gave in to night, the sound got louder until it was no longer a sound at all; it became a feeling. Each explosion of magic hit her heart as though she had been slapped. As the men attempting to invade came to understand what it was that they were up against, the pounding began. Battering rams, weapons, and angry fists pounded against the invisible barrier, turning into a deep thudding in her chest. But even that she had gotten used to.
And then Morgana walked straight through her.
She flinched in Guinevere's arms, holding her tighter before pulling back and looking at the queen. "The... the fox... the witch has breached my wall!"
For an instant, the druid had felt completely crushed, as though two walls were pressing in on her. And then there was nothing but a fleck of impurity within the layout in her head. Morgana was walking the city.
Guinevere dropped to her knees and settled Dayla gently on the floor, taking her small face in her hands. "Dayla, what do you mean? Do you mean Morgana?" she asked quickly.
Dayla nodded. Suddenly the pounding began quietly in her head as well. It was getting more pronounced with each second. "She walked through me like I was nothing," cried the child. A realization struck her and she sent pleading, tear-filled eyes at the queen. "If she's in here then," she glanced to the table where Merlin lay. "then if Emrys dies it will be my fault!"
Gwen shook her head. "Not at all, Dayla. None of this is your fault."
Dayla sat down and slumped a little, Frio (who had been wandering around Guinevere's knees since she picked the child up) wandering over to nestle down next to her thigh. "Mama would have been able to do it." Once again- and for more than one reason- the queen felt her heart break.
"Dayla, look at me," Gwen demanded. The girl obeyed. "Such a burden should not have come onto your shoulders. This is not your fault."
The druid girl shrugged. "It's my job. Mama was the real guardian of Taliesin's gem. Because of... what happened, I had to do it." A soft smile forced its way onto Dayla's lips and for the first time Guinevere feared for the child. "Besides... helping makes me feel better."
As Frio got the child's attention, Gwen stood and wandered to the table where the sleeping Merlin lay. "Helping makes her feel better," she whispered so softly she almost couldn't hear herself. She had seen love turn to bitterness and hate before; up close and in detail. She had watched as Morgana had crumbled from a loving and caring woman into the twisted witch that became the bane of every citizen of Camelot. Was this simple phrase a sign of bitterness and revenge in a child who was too young and innocent to fully understand them? If it was, could she do anything but watch as the love gave way to hate and the innocence give way to damaging wisdom?
She shook the thoughts from her head as another explosion rocked the council chambers and she caught sight of Merlin's face. He was such a stark contrast to their surroundings: his face was so peaceful even covered in dust as it was. She pulled a rag from her pocket and began brushing his cheeks clean as Bedivere approached from his self-appointed post at the window.
"How does it look?" she asked, not looking up.
"Well, the walls are holding it seems. I haven't seen any injured or dead come through the coutyard so I would assume nothing big has happened at the gates," said the knight, shifting anxiously.
"Sir Bedivere," said Gwen suddenly, hunching her shoulders in thought and pausing in her dusting of Merlin's face. "There's something I need you to understand." The tall knight took a step closer to the queen, but when she turned to face him she couldn't help but notice the man was a stickler for tradition and still remained a few wide paces away. "The guards outside the door are the ones here to protect me," she said firmly. He cocked his head at her. "Your job is to ensure that Merlin and Dayla remain safe. If anything should happen-"
"But My Lady!" cried the knight.
She silenced him with a wave of her hand. "If anything should happen to me during the battle, you must keep them safe. Your duty right now is with them."
She could see the struggle in his eyes. Bedivere had been snatched from the battle lines to cower in the council chambers -as she had now doubts he saw it- and now he was being told that if things became dangerous, his queen's safety was not his first priority. She could see everything he had learned from Arthur and from the knights' code struggling against his oath to obey orders.
He glanced to Merlin's still face and then looked behind her at Dayla. His eyes widened. "My Lady!"
She followed his indicating hand and looked down to where Dayla had huddled down against one of the large council chairs, hugging her knees tightly against her chest and ignoring Frio's attempt to comfort her. The small girl was shuddering violently as though someone were shaking her. Guinevere had spun and was on her knees in front of the girl in an instant. "Dayla! What's wrong?" she demanded.
Dayla's eyes were wide open and manic as she stared sightlessly at her knees. Her voice was hoarse and cracked a little when she spoke. "They're..." Tears welled in her eyes. "They're hitting the wall... so hard..." Tears streamed down the small girl's dusty face, leaving pale tracks.
The pounding continued. It was as though her mind were being assaulted from every angle. She could feel every fist, every battering ram, every weapon come down against the wall with an angry cry.
And suddenly it all came to an end with an explosion of pain that made her fear for an instant that her heart had burst. She gave a short screech and fell onto her side, curling in on herself while Guinevere could do little but watch. Her body convulsed slightly and a sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead, her face scrunched in pain.
The girl's strange behavior, as well as Merlin's current state, were not things that Bedivere understood at all, but excessive curiosity was not something he had ever found himself cursed with- specifically when there were so much more important things to be concerned with. A deep thrum seemed to pass through the entire city like a roll of thunder crawling along the ground and echoing in his chest. From the squeak of the queen, she had felt it as well.
"What's happened?" she demanded of no one, looking up at the window.
When Guinevere looked back to Dayla, the child had uncurled and propped herself up on her hands, her eyes drawn also the the one view they had of the city. Her brown eyes were once again filled with terror.
"She broke it..." she whispered. "The witch... she broke the wall!"
How the girl knew this or what wall she was referring to didn't seem to matter to Bedivere; the sudden shift in the atmosphere along with the tension that overcame the queen's body was enough to spur him into action. He ran to the window, but the view down into the courtyard seemed to offer little information. Even so, he couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had changed. A heavy feeling descended upon Camelot and every citizen could feel it even if only a few of them could identify what it was:
Evil.
Guinevere remained crouched by Dayla's prone form for another moment or two before gathering the shivering child into her arms and holding her close, placing a kiss on the top of her head. A deafening silence descended upon the room, matched by a disturbing amount of silence outside the windows. Bedivere began pacing, his long red cloak sweeping the ground behind him and kicking up dust and bits of mortar as he moved. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes- though it seemed to be hours to the anxious knight- before the doors to the council chambers flew open to permit Leon and Elyan.
Gwen stood, bringing Dayla up with her. The small druid leaned her head heavily on the queen's shoulder and the had to check a few times to see that the girl had not fallen asleep.
"What's happening?" asked Guinevere.
"They've rushed the west and southern gates with battering rams. Morgana must have told them exactly where our pitch barrels are mounted because their sorcerers are keeping us from using them. They're even protecting those with the battering rams safe from our archers," reported Leon. There was a strange exasperation in his voice that almost seemed ill-suited to the direness of the situation. Gwen easily figured that years of fighting for Camelot would quickly do that to any knight.
"It's only a matter of time before they get in. With their numbers, I don't know how long we can hold them in the lower town," continued Elyan.
"Are the barricades up?" asked Bedivere.
Leon nodded. "They won't buy us much time with the druids and sorcerers coming for us, though."
Gwen remained quiet, her mind spinning while she cradled and slightly rocked the druid girl in her arms, who looked barely conscious at this point. Despite what Gwen knew about her, she looked then no different than a young child ready to fall asleep during nap time.
"Are there any citizens still in the lower towns?" she asked suddenly, interrupting the conversation that had continued while she pondered.
Leon looked to her. "No. They've been evacuated to the vaults and the citadel. Each gate has two full platoons of knights ready for when they finally break down the door. I'll have the men at the northern gates relocate to the gates that are under attack."
Gwen stopped him as he turned to leave. "No, Leon." she commanded. The knight spun. "Order your men to retreat from the gates. Light the barricades and gather in the courtyard."
The three knights stared at her for a long moment.
"But... My Lady," began Leon, taking a step forward.
Gwen ignored him and moved to the table to sit Dayla on the edge. "They have superior numbers?" she asked curtly.
"Yes, My Lady," answered Leon.
"And superior firepower?" she demanded, grabbing Dayla's cloak and throwing it about her thin shoulders as Frio hopped up onto the table and trotted over to examine the druid. She didn't wait for an answer and picked the girl up again, turning to look at the three knights. "Our firepower is coming and we must protect the city until it arrives."
Elyan took a step forward and she could see her brother overtake the knight in his eyes. "Gwen, we can't-"
"This is Camelot," the queen announced. "We will never assume that Arthur will not return to us." The knights all seemed to retreat a little. This was not simply Elyan's sister or Leon's friend.
This was their Queen.
A bang echoed in the room as something heavy struck the window. Before anything more could be said, the doors opened again to permit a tall thin man; flustered and winded.
"Your Highness!" he cried, running to her and collapsing onto one knee in front of her. "The horses, My Lady!" he cried. "They're all dead!"
Gwen hugged Dayla tighter. This was certainly not what she had expected to hear. Another bang against the window turned the heads in the room for a brief moment, but when nothing followed they looked back to the messenger.
"What do you mean?" demanded the queen.
"Every horse in the royal stables, My Lady. They've all just... died!" he continued.
Leon and Elyan exchanged a look then then glanced to the queen. Another bang hit the window, loud enough this time for Bedivere to scurry over and look out at the strangely still city. Another bang.
"Your Highness!" cried the knight suddenly. Gwen hurried as best she could to the window, glancing out and up as much as she was able to see several small objects dropping from the room above them to sail toward the ground far below. "They're coming from the rookery," said Bedivere.
"It's the messenger birds," she muttered, watching as limp wings rolled away from their bodies as they seemingly dropped from the sky. She craned her neck against the window to glance to the other rookery across the courtyard. The dead birds were spilling from the tower as though water from a boiling bot.
Gwen took a step back in shock, clutching Dayla closer to her, and looked to Leon, who seemed to be coming to the same conclusion. "She's cutting us off," said the queen. She immediately turned to Frio, who had nestled next to Merlin, but to her relief the bird didn't seem affected by it.
"Without horses, we can't run... and now we can't call for help," said Elyan, pulling Gwen's attention back to the knights.
There was a long pause as the knights waited for orders. Gwen's insistence earlier had clearly shown she intended to take some form of control and so they waited.
She set her shoulders and shrugged Dayla a little bit away from her body. "Dayla, can you stand?" she asked.
The girl rubbed her eyes sleepily and nodded. "I think I can."
The queen placed her on her unsteady feet and took hold of her hand as she looked back to the knights. "Leon, give the order to retreat. I want every knight past the front archways and out of the main part of the courtyard. Light the barricades. Those and the doors should be able to hold them off long enough to get all the knights to safety." Leon glanced to Elyan before nodding and the two jogged out. She looked to the messenger, who had rolled to the side to sit down, but he leapt to his feet when he saw her turn toward him. "I want you to take three of the guards outside and go to the store rooms. Gather every barrel of oil that we have down there and put them into the main courtyard. Get help from others if you need to, but do it fast."
Not questioning a thing, the messenger bowed and shot back out the door. Bedivere crossed the room to the queen.
The sound of the warning bell split the air above their heads, and the sounds that followed filled their hearts with dread.
Two quick rings were followed by the screams of a man and then silence. The stillness twisted Gwen's stomach with fear, feeling as though she were standing on the edge of a hill and simply waiting to be pushed over the top.
The silence was broken by a screeching noise that sent terror down Guinevere's spine. The sound of metal being mangled and twisted was one she heard often as a blacksmith's daughter.
"The bell," she breathed, understanding the screech as though it had been their warning system's dying cry.
As the sound died down, three guards hustled into the room and ran to stand in front of Guinevere. She glanced to them and then shook the terror from her face as best she could before looking to Bedivere.
"Sir Bedivere, you are to take Dayla and Merlin," she said firmly, pulling Dayla along behind her as she marched over to the table. Frio ruffled at the fast movement before hopping down to the floor and wandering around Dayla, nudging her occasionally. "Take them down into the caverns that exist below the city." She spun to face him. "You know how to get to the caves where the great dragon was once held, I assume?"
Bedivere seemed taken aback by the question. "Well... yes, but My Lady!"
She could see the loyalty in his eyes. Every bit of the knight's code within him screamed at the thought of leaving the queen's side during such a siege. She placed a hand suddenly upon his shoulder; an action that startled him far more than she expected.
"I told you before, Bedivere; your job is to protect these two, not me," she insisted. "This is an order from your queen; you will take them down to the caverns and you will remain there and protect them. Do you understand?"
The determination and fire in her eyes left no room for argument and the knight gave in and nodded. He moved to the table and began pulling Merlin onto his shoulders.
Guinevere felt a hand on her breeches and looked down at Dayla, her large brown eyes weary but pleading. "I want to go with you, Gwen."
The queen smiled and knelt in front of the little girl, fussing with the clasp of her cloak. "Dayla, if things start to go badly, you know that the safest place you can be is with Merlin, right?" The girl craned her head to look at the form that was now slumped over Bedivere's shoulders. She turned back to Gwen and nodded meekly. "Then that's where I need you to be. I need you to be safe, alright?" Dayla twiddled her fingers and nodded reluctantly, staring down at them. Gwen gently grasped the girl's chin and raised it until she met her eyes. "And Dayla, if you see Morgana, you run. Run and hide until Merlin or I come to get you. Can you promise me that?"
Dayla considered the order for a moment before smiling weakly and nodding once more. She suddenly threw her arms around Gwen's neck and buried her face in the cloth of her tunic. "I'm scared," she admitted, her voice muffled. Gwen embraced the child and sighed.
"I am too, my love," she whispered. "But you know Merlin and Arthur are going to come and save us, right?" She felt Dayla grip tighter, but nod against her hair. They pulled apart and Gwen placed another kiss in the girl's hair. "Then don't worry. Everything is going to be fine."
From the look on the child's face she didn't believe the queen, but she obediently turned away and followed Bedivere. The knight took one more backwards glance at the queen, standing before her three guards and headed out one of the servant's entrances, Frio cooing and following close at the tails of Dayla's cloak.
Guinevere turned to the guards and smiled a little. "I'm afraid that we are going to have to head to the courtyard," she said with a little shrug.
None of the three seemed bothered at all by the implication, and in fact they all smirked a little. One of them stepped forward. "My Lady, we are with you until the end."
Gwen nodded. "Thank you." She turned and they followed her out the opposite servant door and down the long steps into the main hall leading to the courtyard.
The stillness and quiet that awaited them was almost disturbing. The atmosphere was thick with tension, as though the air itself were building up a rage it was ready to unleash upon the city. There were no cries of battle, no explosions of magic, only the dull thudding of heavy battering rams against the large wooden doors of Camelot. Small dead birds littered the sides of the courtyard that sat closest to the rookery towers. Barrels of oil were already being stacked on top of one another on the other side. Knights were beginning to file away from the gates to the lower town and up into the entrance to the citadel, but even the noise of their footfalls and shifting chain mail seemed subdued. She looked up at the dark sky, the full moon casting stark shadows across the stone ground.
Before long, Leon and Elyan met up with her.
"The barricades are lit?" she asked. They nodded and she glanced to the barrels behind them. She waved the three guards that had followed her over and they rushed to help.
"We are drawing them in, yes?" asked Leon slowly. Gwen nodded. "I will assign archers to the battlements."
Guinevere looked to her brother as the other knight lumbered away. She looked down at her hands and was surprised to find them trembling. Elyan's hands appeared over hers for a moment before he enveloped her in a hug. She burried her head against his neck, sighing into his bright red cloak.
"Arthur will come," he assured her. She nodded into his shoulder.
"I know he will." She pulled back and her brother placed a kiss against her forehead, not bothering to hide the sign of affection from the knights that were still making their way into the citadel. She straightened and drew herself up, looking to the men that were stacking barrels of oil. Elyan jogged away toward the lower town gates to urge the last of the knights into the courtyard.
Gwen jogged over to the barrels and ignored the shocked looks that the guards gave her. "My lady! You should be in the vaults!" cried a young guard.
The queen shook her head. "I am right where I must be," she declared. "Once all of the knights are in the citadel, you are to spread the oil across every inch of this courtyard. Soak every stone up to the steps." The guards paused in their stacking and exchanged several glances. Guinevere turned and looked over the large courtyard and the three gates that permitted access to it from the lower towns. "Their numbers will count for nothing when they are forced through gates that only permit six men across."
The turned to ensure that the guards had begun their task of pouring the oil over the courtyard.
"Let's see how long it takes them to deal with a sea of fire."
~ooOoo~
Bedivere glanced this way and that, making his way through the crowded halls and keeping a tight grip on Dayla's small hand. The castle and citadel were full of the people from the surrounding villages and those that lived within the city walls; those that could not fit within the vaults. But as he made his way further down, the people huddled against the walls and in small groups began to be fewer and fewer until he was in the deserted dungeon-like area that lead down into the caverns that had once housed the imprisoned dragon.
It was only when he pulled the heavy iron gate open that he realized he was alone.
"Dayla!"
Sorry! More cliffhangers! Oh wait, Oz pointed that out. Not quite sorry! Lol
Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you soon!