12. The Sorcerer of Amata

The landscape of Amata held the appearance of something ugly and starved―withering crops, emaciated peasants, entire villages wasting away. All the troubles of Camelot now felt inconsequential to Arthur. The sight of every filthy, gaunt face caused his hatred for Sarrum to gradually cement inside his chest cavity; a wrath so fierce, it choked and splintered every word before it could even reach his tongue.

They kept a hard pace, traversing quickly over the land; but even when they rested, Merlin and Gwaine minded their gallows humor. It made for a silent and dreary journey.

When they arrived at the city walls of Sarrum's castle, they were greeted by a lone guard standing atop the palisade, his armor dull and his face haggard.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

"I am Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot."

The guard neither bowed nor allowed them entrance.

"What is your business here?"

"King Sarrum is dead and raiders continue to plunder our borders," Arthur said flatly. "You can let us through now, or you can do so in two days' time, when my armies have crossed the western lands to occupy your fortress."

"...Open the gates!"

Arthur kept his expression carefully blank, concealing his shock. He had not expected for that to be so easy. But the sight of the guards pushing open the gates was telling. They were thin and grimy, not appearing much better than the peasants of the western villages. Even if they had put up a fight, it would have been short and needlessly bloody.

The city of Amata was no better. The streets were sparse of citizens, the roads rugged, and the stench so repugnant, Arthur was forced to breathe shallowly through his mouth, lest he retch.

They could not have reached the castle bailey sooner.

Inside the courtyard, they found none of the common bustle of servants and soldiers alike. It was eerily silent, with the exception of a pair of stableboys hurrying to greet their party. A lone nobleman, fat and richly dressed, hurried down the castle steps.

"My lord!" he called, voice echoing sharply against the flagstones, jewel encrusted fingers clutching at the great length of his robes. "You have my sincerest apologies. We were not anticipating your arrival."

"No, I imagine not," Arthur said blandly, dismounting Llamrei with a swing of his leg. He handed the reins to one of the stableboys and offered him a kinder expression. "Thank you."

The boy flinched in shock. "Y-yes, my lord."

Arthur turned to the nobleman. "You have taken King Sarrum's place?"

"Ah, well, no, I would not necessarily say that…"

"Then what would you say?" Arthur demanded stonily.

"Let the servants prepare a good meal for us first," he evaded. "You must be exhausted and hungry after such a long journey."

"Do not presume to know what I require," Arthur barked out, causing the nobleman to recoil back. "It is the citizens of this pitiful country who could use a good meal. I am appalled by the deplorable state this land has fallen into so soon after your king's death, though I imagine it was not much different even when he was alive. You will lead me to whoever has taken Sarrum's throne and you will do so now."

"Y-yes, my lord," the nobleman stammered, bowing, before turning and stumbling back inside the castle.

Backed by Merlin, Gwaine, and Elyan, Arthur followed him at a brisk pace, taking note of the terrified servants swiftly ducking out of their way. Even in Sarrum's own castle, the people appeared terrified and starved for food.

Arthur studied every twisting, narrow hall they were lead through, making sure to memorize the layout, until they were brought into Sarrum's cavernous throne room. Already, the nobility of Sarrum's court had gathered, awaiting their arrival. A few stood at the end, but none had taken a seat on the actual throne. Whatever the political fallout of the king's death, it seemed that none had gained enough unanimous favor to usurp the crown.

Better for us.

"My lord!" A smarmy looking nobleman hurried across the grand hall to greet them. "I am Lord Sulien. Allow me to welcome you to the city of Amata. I trust that Lord Cronag has been hospitable to you and your men?"

Arthur briefly eyed the large man still standing at their side. "He has," he said blandly. "What I am more concerned with is the grievous poverty prevailing over this country. And it is clear Sarrum's death has only served to leave this court in shambles. I will see to it that this is rectified."

A chorus of voices instantly erupted.

"When will you hunt down those damned sorcerers?! They must be punished!"

"You cannot mean to reign in Sarrum's stead!"

"What of the armies marching across the eastern front? Will you force our men to go to war?"

"SILENCE!"

Arthur made sure to glare down every noble, until they were all properly cowed.

"There is no dispute between us and the armies approaching from the east. Those are King Bayard's men whom I have invited―"

"What gives you the right to invite Bayard's men to our land?!"

Gwaine stepped forward, sword drawn, and the man instantly backed down.

"...As I was saying," Arthur continued, "I have invited Bayard for the sake of your country. Any men that you have sent out to engage in combat, you are to immediately call back. Am I understood?"

Resentful and stiff-faced, they agreed.

"Good," he said. "Now, I require one of you to show my men the location of Sarrum's treasury."

"That is theft!"

"No," Arthur snapped. "What you have done to the people of this country is theft. I merely plan to return what has been unjustly taken."

The outrage was palpable, but it was Lord Sulien that said, "And why should we? All you have brought with you are two men and a servant. We have the power to take you into custody now and ransom you back to your queen."

Arthur arched an eyebrow, incredulous. "I don't imagine you want to do that. Bayard's men may be the ones who approach from the east, but it is my men who approach from the west. You cannot defeat two armies. And Bayard is a trusted ally of Camelot. So," he said, "you can either cooperate now, or, when Camelot and Mercia establish their military presence here, you can be thrown into the dungeons and stripped of all rank, title, and nobility."

Their faces blanched.

"Now, I will send―"

"It is him!" They all turned as one to stare at the nobleman shoving his way to the front and pointing a long, trembling finger towards something behind Arthur. "I recognize him! He is the sorcerer who did this to us!"

Arthur whirled around, hand already gripping the hilt of his sword, anticipating the shadow of some great fiend.

But the only one who stood behind him was Merlin.


A/N: Here's another chapter, courtesy of being forced to write by you-know-who :) Thank you for reading!