CHAPTER 11

The hall is decorated so beautifully, tables strewn with vines and overladen with food, that for a few hours Arthur really does manage to forget about his troubles. Even Agravaine is less irritating when he has a few tankards of mead down him.

Merlin is meant to be working, but the knights - Gwaine especially - keep trying to persuade him to abandon his duties and join them for a drink. He laughs along with their jokes, but doesn't touch a drop, and Arthur wonders if there is an element of necessity to that decision. Is he worried that getting drunk might make him more liable to tell his secret?

Eventually, just as midnight is about to strike, Arthur rises to his feet. The raucous laughter and merrymaking dies down as everyone picks up their goblets and looks to their leader.

"Samhain. It is the time of year when we feel closest to the spirits of our ancestors." Merlin smiles wryly as Arthur recites the servant's speech to those assembled. "It is a time to remember those we have lost to celebrate their passing." Around the tables he sees many react, no doubt thinking of loved ones lost too soon. Arthur himself thinks of Sirs Bertrand and Montague.

It is strange, delivering the Samhain toast. It was always his father's job and of course there had been no celebration last year. This moment of oddity seems to encapsulate all the differences which have arisen since Morgana's betrayal, since Uther was forced to step down from the throne. Arthur mentions the King in his speech, gestures to the empty throne between Agravaine and himself, and states his hope and belief that Uther will recover. Then he lifts his goblet high.

"To the King."

The castle's bell tolls, once, and everyone stands.

"To the King!" they echo, and toast. Which is when a concussive clang! echoes through the hall.

Everyone looks to see the source of the noise and Arthur looks with them. It is Merlin, apparently having dropped a jug and, as Arthur watches, the servant's eyes roll up into his head and he collapses gracelessly to the ground.

Arthur feels an instant thrill of fear, thinking of the last time he had seen Merlin pass out like this. It was all those years ago, when the servant had drunk poisoned wine on Arthur's behalf - but Merlin has not been drinking. Arthur tamps down his initial urge to leap to Merlin's side; he can't leave the feast for the sake of a servant.

Merlin's voice, reproachful, echoes in his mind.

I thought you believed in equality?

Lancelot hurries to Merlin's prone form, Gaius right behind him. None of the nobility pay even the slightest attention as the servant is carried, limp and unresponsive, from the room. Arthur's face burns with shame as he focuses back on the celebration and forces a laugh at some unfunny story of his Uncle's. As soon as it is appropriate, he will make his excuses and go directly to check on Merlin.

It is almost morning by the time Arthur pries himself away from the festivities. He enters the Physician's chambers to find Gaius snoring in bed and, instantly, he relaxes; if Merlin were in any real trouble, there is no way Gaius would be asleep. Arthur creeps past him to the staircase that leads up to Merlin's room.

"Arthur?" Merlin sits up. He is wrapped in a swathe of blankets and the shaft of moonlight coming in through the window accentuates the waxen pallor of his skin. "What are you d-doing here?"

Arthur frowns, noting the shiver that almost interrupts his servant's question. "Gods Merlin, the sound of your teeth chattering is making me even colder."

Merlin smiles at the familiar jibe, and lights a candle on his bedside with a flash of his eyes. "I'm s-starting to warm up now."

"What happened?"

Merlin's countenance darkens. "I saw something. The Cailleach, the g-gatekeeper to the spirit world." Merlin breaks off with another poorly-suppressed shudder. "It was so cold..."

"But why you? Why didn't anyone else see her?"

Merlin shrugs self-consciously. "Visions aren't uncommon, for someone so powerful as me. And Samhain's Eve is when the veil to the spirit world is weakest... Perhaps someone has tried to tear it, or reach through somehow."

"Morgana." They had known this news was coming, but that still made it no more welcome. "Alright. Thank you. And er... Sorry."

Merlin looks confused. "What for?"

For not making sure you were alright. For not helping you like Lancelot and Gaius did. For making you wait for more than a year to hear my judgement on your magic.

"Just... get some rest."

The next day he is woken far earlier than he expects and very nearly snaps at his servant to go away. He stops himself when he sees the dark bags under Merlin's eyes, remembering the events of the night before. Merlin would not be here unless it was for something serious.

"Morgana?"

Merlin nods grimly. "I think so."

A woman, Drea, brings news of an attack on her village.

"They were there but... They weren't there." Her face shines with tears shed for her family, all taken by the creatures she describes. "They moved so quickly. It was as if they weren't real, but...they must've been. I could hear the people screaming. And then...silence. They were all dead."

She starts weeping again and Gaius steps forward to comfort her. Agravaine is talking, discussing how long it will take to reach this village, but Arthur only half-listens. In the other corner of the room Merlin's lips are pursed, eyes distant. He looks worried.

"Ready the knights," Arthur cuts across Agravaine, and his uncle pins him with a baleful glare that Arthur pays no heed to. If even Merlin is unnerved, these creatures Drea spoke of can mean nothing good for Camelot.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asks quietly on their way to the village. Merin has been acting strangely, jumping and flinching at every call of a bird or snap of a twig underfoot. "You've been skittish all day."

"I just have this... feeling. Like something terrible has happened, and worse is to come."

Before this year, Arthur might have teased his servant. Now, however, Merlin must be rubbing off on him, because the Regent King fancies he feels something of the same. His sense of foreboding only increases when they arrive at Drea's devastated village. Even the breeze is still.

"It's too quiet."

They dismount their horses and begin to cautiously explore the abandoned buildings.

"Here!"

They hurry to the house Elyan has just entered. There are corpses inside, skin frosted over as if they had been caught in the most vicious of snowstorms. Arthur thinks of Merlin the night before, so pale and cold, and shivers in sympathy. What a terrible way to die.

It grows dark and he orders his men to light torches, splitting them into pairs and placing himself with Merlin. If the creatures that did this are still here, he wants his servant to be able to use his magic to defend himself without hindrance.

They search for another hour, long enough that Arthur starts to relax. Perhaps the creatures have fled. The instant he thinks that, of course, an unearthly shriek pierces the night.

"There!" Merlin points, but Arthur can't see anything. "Leoht."

Light flares in Merlin's palm, but swiftly extinguishes. Merlin's eyes widen in disbelief.

"Leoht."

This time nothing happens. Merlin looks frantically from his hand to the darkness, through which Arthur can now see the creature they have been searching for.

It's a smoky wisp, formless and shifting, and no matter how hard he looks the only thing Arthur can really discern is the deep, dark eye sockets of a skull swooping towards them.

"Fleoh nu on moras!" Merlin shouts this time, voice tinged with panic, but his golden eyes are muted and still nothing happens. "Fleoh nu on moras!"

Unsure what else to do, Arthur slashes at the wisp with his torch, and mercifully the creature changes direction. It disappears back into the darkness with another piercing shriek.

"My magic..." Merlin is aghast. "I couldn't use it."

"Sire!" The knights come barreling into view, their own torches hoisted high. "You saw it?

"Out there." Arthur gestures with his torch. "When it saw the fire, it fled."

"It scared the horses," Gwaine says and Arthur has a sudden, terrifying thought. That had just been one creature, but Drea had told them of many. Where were the rest?

"We need to return to Camelot," Arthur instructs the knights as, in the distance, more ghostly screams begin.

By the time they reach Camelot, the city is in chaos. More of the wisps, countless more, dive and soar between the panicking townspeople and the streets are littered with icy corpses. Once inside the palace, Merlin - who had been uncharacteristically silent the entire ride back - darts away. Arthur lets him go, for he has more urgent matters to attend to than his servant's faulty magic.

He find his uncle in the council room, surrounded by an assortment of advisors.

"Sire." He looks thoroughly relieved to see Arthur there. "Thank God. When those creatures started to attack, I feared the worst."

"I'm fine. What of my people?"

"Gaius is doing his best." Agravaine raises his arms helplessly. "But nothing kills them, Arthur. Fire and light both work as repellents only."

"Very well." Outside, the first faint rays of sunlight creep past the skyline. At last, the shrieks of the monsters quieten. "Meet me in my chambers in an hour and tell Gaius to join us."