Let me stand by you (the honour is mine)
Title: Let me stand by you (the honour is mine) 4/8
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur, Gwaine/Merlin (one-sided)
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 5059/ 31k
Beta: Thanks to aeris444
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the recognisable characters. They all belong to the BBC and Shine TV. I only borrowed them.
Summary: As the King is travelling with his men, their group suffer an attack and Merlin is wounded. He has two options: to die or to reveal his magic. His choice to live leads to his banishment. The decision isn’t an easy one for Arthur and as he takes in the void left by the absence his manservant, he’s more than a little lost and conflicted. Yet he has no time to dwell on his feelings: bandits are roaming the Kindgdom and they could all be part of a plan to bring Camelot down.
Chapter 1 2 3
Chapter 4
After three more days of riding through the woods, without finding any fresh tracks, the knights headed back to Camelot. The men had become grim again with their unsuccessful search and Arthur didn't like being away from the castle much longer when he knew Lord Sallan was plotting against him. As he'd searched the forest, he'd realised how the bandits were a perfect way to lure him and the knights away from Camelot, leaving the city weak and easier to take. Arthur had bought it like a green boy.
The knot that had settled in his stomach since dawn hadn’t vanished at the distant sight of Camelot when they left the woods despite the apparent normality. His foreboding was proven true when they came closer. There were deep gashes on the curtain-wall. Arthur didn’t have a clue what weapon or creature could have left such huge marks in the stone but it certainly didn’t bode well. He sped up his pace.
He was met by cold, hard stares and whispers in the lower towns. The knot in his stomach grew tighter. When he reached the courtyard, his heart sank. The snow there was splattered in crimson red. Blood, so much blood. And stones, for a whole aisle had been torn apart, its insides opened to the cold weather and wind. A shiver ran down Arthur's spine.
As soon as the King stopped in the main yard, Leon came running down the stairs. Arthur dismounted and gave his reins to a stable boy. Without a word of greeting, he asked:
"What happened?"
"A beast. A giant dog with two heads and an enormous snake in place of a tail. It attacked us two nights ago, crawled up the curtain-wall. We fought it but it seems nothing can harm it. It came back last night and destroyed the east aisle. I sent words for you."
"They haven't reached me."
Arthur walked up the stairs and Leon went after him.
"What are the losses?" the King enquired.
"The count isn’t made yet but it could be near a hundred dead, Sire, and twice as many severe injuries. Mostly men who tried to fight the monster. We gathered as many people as possible in the castle but even so, there's not enough space for all of them. And the east aisle proves that nowhere is really safe."
They reached the great hall transformed into an infirmary. Arthur felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach as he surveyed the room. Some of the people lying there had lost a limb, some two. Some had their whole chest bandaged, the white fabric showing two or three big red lines where presumably giant claws had scratched them. And then, there were bodies so crushed Arthur wondered how they could live and guessed it would have been better for them if they didn't. As Leon had said, there were mostly men in the room but Arthur saw a dozen of women and a few children. He felt sick.
"As you see, Sire, Gaius has much to do. And with… Well, with Merlin gone he has no skilled help. Some people volunteered but it isn't enough. And if the beast returns tonight…"
Arthur nodded. He spotted the physician on the right side of the room, tying bandages around the remaining of a young man's arm. The King was convinced of Gaius' skills and hard work but even so he knew a great part of the people in front of him, if not most of them, wouldn't survive. And where was he while his people were being slaughtered? Chasing ghosts in the forest.
"We must find a way to kill this monster," he said.
"I had a few men help Gaius do some research. He'll talk to you as soon as he can."
Arthur put a hand on his knight's shoulder.
"You've handled the situation well, Leon."
"I've done my best, Sire," he answered with a small nod. "I wish I could do more. Now, if I may, there's a matter that needs to be discussed privately."
On the way to the King’s chambers, Leon gave a brief report on which patrol had come back from the woods, who was still out there, and who had fallen. Once they reached their goal, they sat at the King's dining table.
"What more?" Arthur inquired, the knot still tight in his stomach.
"People are whispering. They think you fled to save your own skin or that you heard of the beast and refused to come back, abandoning your people."
Arthur was reminded of the hostility he met in the lower town. "Well, certainly my presence here will prove them wrong."
"There's more to it, Sire. I don't think the idea came from within Camelot."
"Why?"
"I'm not sure. A gut feeling. It seems too quick. And we know Lord Sallan uses a similar strategy to discredit you in the villages."
Arthur frowned. How would Sallan have had word of the events in Camelot and organised his strategy so quickly? Except if…
"Do you think he sent that beast?"
"Yes, Sire."
"But we thought he wanted to take over the kingdom. What's the point of destroying it before?"
"He could come and take the beast away before it does too much damage."
Arthur sighed. "I hope you're mistaken. Anyway, we must kill this monster as quickly as possible. Do you know -"
The King was interrupted by three soft knocks on the door. Gaius entered carrying a heavy-looking volume. He bowed slightly and sat on the chair Arthur designated.
"Gaius. I hope you bear better news than what I heard until now."
"I'm afraid not, Sire."
"You haven’t found what that monster is?”
“I have. I believe it is the only specimen of its kind though it’s reported to live far away from Albion. Its name is Orthus.”
“Do you know how to defeat it then?”
"I do but I fear it won't be easy."
"What is it?"
"As we experienced, Orthus is immune to any normal wound. However, the writings say that there is a way to injure it by coating the blade in a mixture of certain plants."
"Can we find them?"
"That's where the difficulty lies. Some of them are common healing herbs of which I have a supply. All of them but one: the Firepoppy. I fear, though, that it is rare and even more difficult to find in this season."
"But you know where it grows, don't you?"
"Yes, I do, Sire. There's only one place in the kingdom."
Arthur took a map out of a chest of drawers and laid it down on the table. "Show me."
Gaius pointed to a spot in the forest of Balor.
"Here. You'll find a group of ancient trees. The Firepoppy grows on their roots."
"And how will I recognise it?"
The physician flipped through the book he'd brought with him and presented a drawing to the King. It showed a flower similar to a common poppy except for the orange colour at the base of its petal, gradually turning red towards the tips. The chiselled leaves showed no difference from the common plant.
"It is easily recognised to its petal, however you won't find any flower in this season. You must be careful for its leaves are easily mistaken with more common herbs. The one you're looking for grows directly on tree roots and the back of its leaves have a slight orange tint."
Arthur nodded his understanding and looked back at the map.
"That's a whole day away from here. We'll ride at once. I want to be back as soon as possible."
"Sire," Leon objected. "If you leave now, people will see a confirmation of the rumours."
"But I can't stay here and watch them die."
"You can send someone else."
"With all the respect and trust I have for my knights, Leon, this is not a mission I wish to delegate. I'll prove the rumours wrong by slaying the monster."
***
"We've already been here," Arthur said barely holding back a shout.
Some of the men behind him growled. They had spent half the day before going round in circles and were well into their second one of doing so. The quick ride to the area Gaius had indicated had left them exhausted and the cold wind that had been blowing since their departure didn’t help. The worst part was the frustration, though. Each night they spent away from Camelot, more people died. They might be their friends, their families. They were the people they’d sworn to protect. They needed to find the plant quickly. Arthur didn’t know which way to choose as it seemed they had explored every possibility. He led the group south-east without conviction.
In this tense atmosphere, Arthur doubted his choice of bringing Gwaine with him instead of dismissing him as he’d wanted to. If Gwaine chose to express his mistrust now, the situation could rapidly become difficult to handle. It had been the knight’s request to come along and the first time Arthur had heard his voice since the trial. When he’d realised it might have to do with Merlin following him, he hadn’t been able to refuse. If Merlin was keeping him safe, allowing a friend to come along was the least he could do to thank him. That was when Arthur had understood he was doomed. He cared too much. The betrayal still hurt like the day he'd discovered it, a sharp, white-hot blade into his heart yet he still cared. Everything he knew about sorcery told him he should have sentenced Merlin to death yet he hadn’t had the guts to do so. He hadn’t even been able to throw him in the dungeons while he was so weak. No matter what happened, he just didn’t have it in him to hurt Merlin. He wasn’t comfortable with the sorcerer following him, though, but for now it couldn’t be helped.
Arthur’s horse suddenly refused to go further, rousing the King from his thoughts. The animal stamped and whinnied. His fear soon spread to the other mounts without any rider managing to calm them. There was a hiss then the horses went wild. Five snakes reared up on the road, their hissing getting louder as they came closer, their forked tongues waving in the air. Arthur’s horse bolted. The King managed to remain in the saddle for a while but there was no controlling his mount. Then the animal made an abrupt change of direction and Arthur lost balance. His head hit the ground violently and he lost consciousness.
The King woke up shivering on the cold, hard ground. His head was throbbing, his whole body sore from the fall. He sat up carefully with a wince of pain. Slightly dizzy, he analysed his situation. The horse was gone and with it, his sword and food. No one was to be seen. He didn’t recognise his surroundings but he could follow his tracks back to the place where the snakes had been and from there, find his knights. As he didn’t want to stand up too quickly, he kneeled. That was when he saw the wolf coming towards him.
He wasn’t like any wolf Arthur had seen before. His fur was long and thick, pristine white. He stopped a few yards away and stared at the King with soft, blue eyes as he came closer. Arthur tensed. He put a hand on the hilt of the dirk at his belt without looking away. He stood up, careful to avoid any brutal move. He hoped his knights had followed his tracks and would soon appear but he heard nothing. There was only him. Him and the wolf, both standing still in the silent forest.
After a few moments, the wolf continued his way slowly and, it seemed to Arthur, warily. He was slightly crouched, his tail and ears down. He didn’t show any threatening behaviour. The King unsheathed his dirk anyway. It wouldn’t be easy alone against a wolf but if he was quick he might get the upper hand without too much damage.
The beast was at an arm length now. Arthur still hadn’t moved. He couldn’t allow the animal to come much closer or it would be too late. Yet something in the eyes held him back. Their shade of blue felt familiar. Their soft, almost tender expression had a soothing effect on him. The wolf stopped inches away. He raised his head and his muzzle reached for Arthur’s free hand. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his dirk. Then the beast licked his hand. The King relaxed slightly.
When the leather of his glove was covered with saliva, the wolf looked up at him. Arthur was mesmerised by his eyes and the brightness of his fur. He was tempted to run his hand through his fluffy hair but held back. The animal might seem friendly yet he assumed he’d better not push him. Then the beast walked way.
He stopped after a few yards and looked back at Arthur then in front of him then again at Arthur. He sat still, waiting, the King assumed, for him to follow. He hesitated. The whole thing felt too much like a trap. The snakes had clearly been put on his way by some enemy. They didn’t normally move in such a large number nor did they attack a mounted group so large. And now a wolf behaving nothing like one wanted him to follow. Sorcery was the only explanation and he didn’t like it one bit. Especially as it seemed logical for Lord Sallan to try and prevent him for reaching the only place where the Firepoppy grew. The bright side was that it could only be near. The dark one that the fluffy ball of fur could quickly turn into a wild beast if Arthur did something wrong.
In the end, it wasn’t half as bad as what he’d feared. Still not decided to behave like a wolf, the animal rolled his eyes. Then he came back to Arthur, bit in his cloak and attempted to drag him forward.
“Alright,” Arthur said, feeling slightly stupid for talking to an animal. “I’ll come, no need to ruin my cloak.”
The beast must have understood because he let go of the fabric. He padded away and glanced back to make sure Arthur was following. After a while, the King sheathed his dirk and relaxed slightly. Whoever had sent the wolf to summon him seemed a long walk away and he saw no reason to be afraid of the wolf. The beast was trotting merrily in front of him, doubling back from time to time when he was too far ahead. It reminded Arthur of the few moments of innocence in his childhood when he walked with his dogs in the woods. These were happy memories yet the King couldn’t shake off the aching in his chest. Something was off, missing. Then he realised he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been alone in the woods. Even when he didn’t bring his knights, he used to bring his servant. The forest was too silent without Merlin’s cheerful babble. He’d called him a friend but he’d never truly realised how big a place his servant had taken in his life before. He’d grown accustomed to his presence and their teasing. Now his loneliness had a bitter taste.
Light faded quickly. Arthur had been out longer than he’d thought. He hesitated for a moment and finally stopped. The wolf continued for a while. Then, realising that Arthur wasn’t following him, walked back. He sat at his feet and cocked his head to the side, looking up at the man.
“Your eyes are better than mine. It’s almost dark. I don’t want to trip and break my neck.”
Again, the wolf seemed to understand because he lied down, his legs sprawled on the ground. “I’ll collect wood for the fire,” Arthur added and walked away.
The animal was nowhere to be seen when the King came back. He set to light the fire. Only when the flames were roaring did the wolf come back, carrying a rabbit in his mouth. He let the prey fall down in front of Arthur. “For me?” he asked dumbfounded. He hadn’t thought he would eat that night.
The wolf nuzzled the rabbit closer to him. “Thank you,” Arthur said before taking out his dirk to skin the prey.
While the meat cooked, he wondered if he should share with the beast. Judging by the blood on its muzzle, though, he had probably eaten his own prey before coming back. Arthur ended up throwing bits of meat anyway. The wolf leapt, open-mouthed, to catch them, his tail wagging happily. The distraction was a welcomed one for Arthur whose grim mood hadn’t left. But the game ended when the rabbit’s bones were naked. Too soon.
Arthur wasn’t tired enough to sleep yet. His thoughts went back to Camelot and the people who had died while he’d played with the wolf. He wished Merlin was there. He always found a way to cheer him up. He remembered that night when he’d done anything to save him. In the end, he’d lost him all the same. He fought hard to hold back the tears. Then he gave up. Who was there to see anyway?
What did he have left now that the two people who mattered the most had betrayed him? Having people he could trust, people who dared speak their mind to him and didn’t serve their personal interest had been so valuable. Having friends. Now he was stuck with the nobles and their flattery. Alone, crushed under the pressure of his crown. And he missed the friends he had been the one to banish. They’d hurt him, they’d betrayed him and yet he couldn’t forget what they’d shared. He wished they could be there. Gwen didn’t love him anymore and he didn’t love her either, he’d realised, but she would have encouraged him. She would have stayed in Camelot and helped the wounded, given them hope, fought the rumours. And Merlin… Merlin would have been by his side, where he’d always been. When had Arthur become so dependent on his manservant that he felt so lost without him? When had their friendship become so strong that he was longing for Merlin’s smile? For the faith and trust that never left his eyes, even when Arthur doubted himself. And it had all been a lie. Or had it? Arthur wished he had listened to the sorcerer before banishing him. It was too late now. He might never see Merlin again.
Arthur startled when he felt something warm and wet on his hand. The wolf was licking it again, looking at him with sad eyes. The oddity of an enemy’s envoy comforting him struck Arthur but he didn’t linger on the thought. Instead he accepted the soothing gladly. He finally dared to run his fingers through the snowy fur. It was soft and pleasantly warm against his skin.
The regular motion of his hand on the wolf’s neck helped Arthur calm down. When his tears ran dry, he hid his face in the fur, inhaling deep breaths of its musky scent. “It seems you’re my only friend now,” he whispered. “And I don’t even know who’s sent you or where you’re taking me.”
Arthur cringed at his own words. He was definitely becoming soft. He sat up. “Time to sleep.”
He lay down then realised that despite the fire he was going to freeze without any blankets. “Would you be kind enough to sleep with me and share your heat?” he asked the wolf.
The beast cocked his head to the side, fixing him with his strange blue eyes. They were too smart for an animal’s. The King realised he was pondering his words. Arthur closed his eyes, letting him decide. A few moments later, the wolf curled up against him and Arthur smiled.
The King was awoken by someone punching him repeatedly in the side. He opened his eyes with a curse and looked down. The wolf was poking at him with his muzzle. Arthur sat up and the beast moved away with a jerk of the head. The man was surprised to have slept straight through the night without suffering from cold. He must have underestimated the beast’s body heat. He let out another curse when he saw the sun high in the sky. After more than a week of riding and sleeping rough, he desperately needed rest but now wasn’t the time for a lie in. He stood up. “It’s late already. We must leave at once. I’m afraid there will be no breakfast.” Then he wondered why a wolf would have any idea what breakfast was.
The wolf trotted away. Arthur made sure the fire was off and went after him. They made a halt at a stream to quench their thirst on the ice-cold water but apart from that they took no rest. Arthur was too anxious to be over with whatever the matter was, even though he’d grown fond of the wolf.
It was about mid-day when they reached a clearing. In its middle stood seven giant oaks, with trunks so wide two men couldn’t circle them with their arms. They went up tortuously, higher than any tree Arthur had seen. Their naked, gnarled branches sprawled like arms ready to strangle the first being daring to come closer. The ground was wrinkled by their thick roots rising on the surface and diving back a few feet farther. The whole scenery made Arthur shiver. It reminded him of the stories his nurse used to tell him when he was a little boy. Tales where the dead rose to haunt the living. Yet the sight brought him relief too, for he recognised the trees Gaius had talked about.
“You brought me to the place I was looking for!” he exclaimed, astonished.
The wolf held up his head high in pride and trotted merrily around him. Arthur briefly scratched the beast’s neck. He walked towards the trees, dismissing the uneasy feeling they’d brought. He had nothing to fear for now. The wolf hadn’t led him to some dangerous encounter. Something was bothering him, though. How could someone have sent the beast to guide him? Gaius, Leon and the knights he’d brought with him were the only ones to know about the Firepoppy. How could a sorcerer have had access to that information? And admitting he got it, why would he be willing to help?
Arthur stopped dead in his track, his heart missing a beat. He was such a fool. Of course, the eyes felt familiar. He’d seen them every day for years. “Merlin.”
The wolf froze. He turned around slowly and looked at Arthur. His ears were flat, his head low. He crouched, ready to flee. There was a wavering moment while Arthur took in what this discovery meant. His thoughts went back to the previous night and the way he’d let go, thinking nobody could see. The pain of Merlin’s betrayal came rushing back. “You fooled me again!”
The wolf looked down. He had the decency to seem sheepish.
“What have I done for you to take so much pleasure at playing with me?”
Merlin snapped his head up and whined. His eyes were so full of pain, Arthur hesitated to continue. But he was too angry.
“Come on, be a man and get rid of that wolf form to face me. Tell me! The snakes. Was it you? You wanted to bring me away from the knights? So what now?”
The beast bared his teeth, the skin on his nose winkled. He took a step closer.
“If you wanted to kill me you could have done so long ago. So what is it you’re seeking? Is this reward? Destruction? Revenge?”
Merlin growled. Arthur forced himself to stand his ground even though the beast was coming closer, his fangs threatening. The wolf stopped a few feet away. He barked several times, menacing, then he ran away.
It took a few moments for Arthur’s heart to stop racing. He cursed himself for losing his temper when he finally had a chance of facing Merlin again. If he had reacted differently… But there was not time for that. He needed to find the Firepoppy.
He walked to the trees. He panicked a little when he found the roots of the first oak naked. Then the second one. And the third. When Gaius had said the plant would be hard to find in this season, Arthur hadn’t imagined it could mean he wouldn’t find it at all. He let out a victorious cry when he finally saw chiselled leaves. Their back was pale orange, exactly like Gaius had said. He ripped a few off and secured them in the skin pouch hanging at his belt. Then he set to go back to Camelot. It was a long way on foot but going back and trying to find the knights would be even longer.
He’d been walking for a while when four men emerged from behind the trees. They wore chainmail and pieces of amour protected their arms. Arthur recognised the snake on their cloak. Lord Sallan’s knights. The King put a hand to his sword only to let out a curse when his fingers met empty air. He might be a skilled fighter but facing four trained knights armed only with a dirk was hopeless. Until a branch fell with a loud crack on two of his enemies. There was a flash a white fur and the wolf leapt on the closest knight. His teeth sunk deep into the man’s throat, blood staining the snowy muzzle. Rage was burning in the beast’s eyes. The hair raised on Arthur’s neck. When had the soft, cheerful Merlin turned so violent? But the last knight was marching on him, forcing him to focus.
Arthur crouched slightly and raised his dirk. He didn’t need it, in the end. Merlin leapt on the man before he could come close enough to hurt the King. But in his fall, the knight managed to move his sword and hit the wolf’s hind leg. Merlin yelped. Arthur hurried closer, ready to thrust his dirk in the man’s flesh as soon as he was sure not to hurt the wolf in the process. But Merlin didn’t need his help. With one angry bite, he took away half of the knight’s face.
For a moment, the beast stood still on the man’s chest and Arthur feared he would feed on the corpses. Then the wolf got off the knight, limped away from the road and disappeared from the King’s sight. Arthur stood hesitant. After what had just happened, it seemed any mistake could cost him dear. But Merlin was wounded. He took one of the swords lying on the ground and went after the sorcerer.
He found the wolf curled into a ball, his front legs crossed on his muzzle. He was whining softly. If it hadn’t been for the blood on his fur, it would have been hard to tell it was the same wolf that had just butchered two men. He rather looked like a puppy. A hurting, lost puppy.
Arthur thrust the sword in the ground and kneeled next to the wolf. He almost forgot himself and ran a hand through his fur to soothe him but he held back. He couldn’t pet Merlin. Instead, he looked at the deep cut on his hind leg.
“Can’t you do anything for your wound?”
Merlin slightly shook his head.
“Let me have a look.”
The wolf growled.
“You can’t keep on bleeding. Come on.”
Merlin unfolded his front legs and lifted his head. His eyes, full of fear, turned to the sword then to Arthur.
“I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
Their gaze locked for a moment. Then Merlin nodded.
Arthur didn’t have any potions or bandages so he tore away a piece of his cloak and tied it around Merlin’s leg. It wasn’t much but it would at least reduce the blood loss. When he was done the wolf nuzzled Arthur’s hand.
“You’re welcome.”
The King stood up and put the sword through his belt. “I guess that’s where we part.”
Merlin didn’t seem to agree. He bite at Arthur’s cloak and walked a few steps away. “What are you doing?”
Merlin pulled weakly on the fabric. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you but you’ve never been very good at finding your way in the woods. That’s not the way to Camelot.”
The beast pulled again. “I have no time for your games. I need to go back as quickly as possible.”
The wolf growled. “Merlin, this is ridiculous! I know it’s you. You don’t need to hide anymore. Just turn back into yourself and tell me what you want.”
The wolf stood still. When Arthur understood he wouldn’t transform back into a human, he sighed. He wasn’t sure he could trust Merlin again. On the other hand, what had the sorcerer done except helping?
“Right. Show me.”
The wolf padded away and Arthur followed. The blood on the white fur still made him slightly queasy. Merlin washing it away in a stream and turning into a fluffy ball after he shook the water away, spraying Arthur generously in the process, didn’t make the feeling disappear. Now the beast glistened as light caught the thousand icicles that had formed on his hairs.
Arthur got lost in his thoughts as they walked. He had so many questions, so many things he wanted to say. He needed to convince Merlin to turn human again and talk to him. But he couldn’t lose his temper like he had earlier. He had to choose his words carefully.
“Merlin, I-“
The wolf barked. He stopped and sat on his haunches. Arthur stood next to him. He was going to ask what was going on when he heard voices. Then he recognised Percival and Oswin. Merlin had taken him back to the knights. He wouldn’t have to make all the way back to Camelot on foot. “Thank you,” he whispered. But when he looked down, the wolf had disappeared.
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur, Gwaine/Merlin (one-sided)
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 5059/ 31k
Beta: Thanks to aeris444
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the recognisable characters. They all belong to the BBC and Shine TV. I only borrowed them.
Summary: As the King is travelling with his men, their group suffer an attack and Merlin is wounded. He has two options: to die or to reveal his magic. His choice to live leads to his banishment. The decision isn’t an easy one for Arthur and as he takes in the void left by the absence his manservant, he’s more than a little lost and conflicted. Yet he has no time to dwell on his feelings: bandits are roaming the Kindgdom and they could all be part of a plan to bring Camelot down.
Chapter 1 2 3
Chapter 4
After three more days of riding through the woods, without finding any fresh tracks, the knights headed back to Camelot. The men had become grim again with their unsuccessful search and Arthur didn't like being away from the castle much longer when he knew Lord Sallan was plotting against him. As he'd searched the forest, he'd realised how the bandits were a perfect way to lure him and the knights away from Camelot, leaving the city weak and easier to take. Arthur had bought it like a green boy.
The knot that had settled in his stomach since dawn hadn’t vanished at the distant sight of Camelot when they left the woods despite the apparent normality. His foreboding was proven true when they came closer. There were deep gashes on the curtain-wall. Arthur didn’t have a clue what weapon or creature could have left such huge marks in the stone but it certainly didn’t bode well. He sped up his pace.
He was met by cold, hard stares and whispers in the lower towns. The knot in his stomach grew tighter. When he reached the courtyard, his heart sank. The snow there was splattered in crimson red. Blood, so much blood. And stones, for a whole aisle had been torn apart, its insides opened to the cold weather and wind. A shiver ran down Arthur's spine.
As soon as the King stopped in the main yard, Leon came running down the stairs. Arthur dismounted and gave his reins to a stable boy. Without a word of greeting, he asked:
"What happened?"
"A beast. A giant dog with two heads and an enormous snake in place of a tail. It attacked us two nights ago, crawled up the curtain-wall. We fought it but it seems nothing can harm it. It came back last night and destroyed the east aisle. I sent words for you."
"They haven't reached me."
Arthur walked up the stairs and Leon went after him.
"What are the losses?" the King enquired.
"The count isn’t made yet but it could be near a hundred dead, Sire, and twice as many severe injuries. Mostly men who tried to fight the monster. We gathered as many people as possible in the castle but even so, there's not enough space for all of them. And the east aisle proves that nowhere is really safe."
They reached the great hall transformed into an infirmary. Arthur felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach as he surveyed the room. Some of the people lying there had lost a limb, some two. Some had their whole chest bandaged, the white fabric showing two or three big red lines where presumably giant claws had scratched them. And then, there were bodies so crushed Arthur wondered how they could live and guessed it would have been better for them if they didn't. As Leon had said, there were mostly men in the room but Arthur saw a dozen of women and a few children. He felt sick.
"As you see, Sire, Gaius has much to do. And with… Well, with Merlin gone he has no skilled help. Some people volunteered but it isn't enough. And if the beast returns tonight…"
Arthur nodded. He spotted the physician on the right side of the room, tying bandages around the remaining of a young man's arm. The King was convinced of Gaius' skills and hard work but even so he knew a great part of the people in front of him, if not most of them, wouldn't survive. And where was he while his people were being slaughtered? Chasing ghosts in the forest.
"We must find a way to kill this monster," he said.
"I had a few men help Gaius do some research. He'll talk to you as soon as he can."
Arthur put a hand on his knight's shoulder.
"You've handled the situation well, Leon."
"I've done my best, Sire," he answered with a small nod. "I wish I could do more. Now, if I may, there's a matter that needs to be discussed privately."
On the way to the King’s chambers, Leon gave a brief report on which patrol had come back from the woods, who was still out there, and who had fallen. Once they reached their goal, they sat at the King's dining table.
"What more?" Arthur inquired, the knot still tight in his stomach.
"People are whispering. They think you fled to save your own skin or that you heard of the beast and refused to come back, abandoning your people."
Arthur was reminded of the hostility he met in the lower town. "Well, certainly my presence here will prove them wrong."
"There's more to it, Sire. I don't think the idea came from within Camelot."
"Why?"
"I'm not sure. A gut feeling. It seems too quick. And we know Lord Sallan uses a similar strategy to discredit you in the villages."
Arthur frowned. How would Sallan have had word of the events in Camelot and organised his strategy so quickly? Except if…
"Do you think he sent that beast?"
"Yes, Sire."
"But we thought he wanted to take over the kingdom. What's the point of destroying it before?"
"He could come and take the beast away before it does too much damage."
Arthur sighed. "I hope you're mistaken. Anyway, we must kill this monster as quickly as possible. Do you know -"
The King was interrupted by three soft knocks on the door. Gaius entered carrying a heavy-looking volume. He bowed slightly and sat on the chair Arthur designated.
"Gaius. I hope you bear better news than what I heard until now."
"I'm afraid not, Sire."
"You haven’t found what that monster is?”
“I have. I believe it is the only specimen of its kind though it’s reported to live far away from Albion. Its name is Orthus.”
“Do you know how to defeat it then?”
"I do but I fear it won't be easy."
"What is it?"
"As we experienced, Orthus is immune to any normal wound. However, the writings say that there is a way to injure it by coating the blade in a mixture of certain plants."
"Can we find them?"
"That's where the difficulty lies. Some of them are common healing herbs of which I have a supply. All of them but one: the Firepoppy. I fear, though, that it is rare and even more difficult to find in this season."
"But you know where it grows, don't you?"
"Yes, I do, Sire. There's only one place in the kingdom."
Arthur took a map out of a chest of drawers and laid it down on the table. "Show me."
Gaius pointed to a spot in the forest of Balor.
"Here. You'll find a group of ancient trees. The Firepoppy grows on their roots."
"And how will I recognise it?"
The physician flipped through the book he'd brought with him and presented a drawing to the King. It showed a flower similar to a common poppy except for the orange colour at the base of its petal, gradually turning red towards the tips. The chiselled leaves showed no difference from the common plant.
"It is easily recognised to its petal, however you won't find any flower in this season. You must be careful for its leaves are easily mistaken with more common herbs. The one you're looking for grows directly on tree roots and the back of its leaves have a slight orange tint."
Arthur nodded his understanding and looked back at the map.
"That's a whole day away from here. We'll ride at once. I want to be back as soon as possible."
"Sire," Leon objected. "If you leave now, people will see a confirmation of the rumours."
"But I can't stay here and watch them die."
"You can send someone else."
"With all the respect and trust I have for my knights, Leon, this is not a mission I wish to delegate. I'll prove the rumours wrong by slaying the monster."
***
"We've already been here," Arthur said barely holding back a shout.
Some of the men behind him growled. They had spent half the day before going round in circles and were well into their second one of doing so. The quick ride to the area Gaius had indicated had left them exhausted and the cold wind that had been blowing since their departure didn’t help. The worst part was the frustration, though. Each night they spent away from Camelot, more people died. They might be their friends, their families. They were the people they’d sworn to protect. They needed to find the plant quickly. Arthur didn’t know which way to choose as it seemed they had explored every possibility. He led the group south-east without conviction.
In this tense atmosphere, Arthur doubted his choice of bringing Gwaine with him instead of dismissing him as he’d wanted to. If Gwaine chose to express his mistrust now, the situation could rapidly become difficult to handle. It had been the knight’s request to come along and the first time Arthur had heard his voice since the trial. When he’d realised it might have to do with Merlin following him, he hadn’t been able to refuse. If Merlin was keeping him safe, allowing a friend to come along was the least he could do to thank him. That was when Arthur had understood he was doomed. He cared too much. The betrayal still hurt like the day he'd discovered it, a sharp, white-hot blade into his heart yet he still cared. Everything he knew about sorcery told him he should have sentenced Merlin to death yet he hadn’t had the guts to do so. He hadn’t even been able to throw him in the dungeons while he was so weak. No matter what happened, he just didn’t have it in him to hurt Merlin. He wasn’t comfortable with the sorcerer following him, though, but for now it couldn’t be helped.
Arthur’s horse suddenly refused to go further, rousing the King from his thoughts. The animal stamped and whinnied. His fear soon spread to the other mounts without any rider managing to calm them. There was a hiss then the horses went wild. Five snakes reared up on the road, their hissing getting louder as they came closer, their forked tongues waving in the air. Arthur’s horse bolted. The King managed to remain in the saddle for a while but there was no controlling his mount. Then the animal made an abrupt change of direction and Arthur lost balance. His head hit the ground violently and he lost consciousness.
The King woke up shivering on the cold, hard ground. His head was throbbing, his whole body sore from the fall. He sat up carefully with a wince of pain. Slightly dizzy, he analysed his situation. The horse was gone and with it, his sword and food. No one was to be seen. He didn’t recognise his surroundings but he could follow his tracks back to the place where the snakes had been and from there, find his knights. As he didn’t want to stand up too quickly, he kneeled. That was when he saw the wolf coming towards him.
He wasn’t like any wolf Arthur had seen before. His fur was long and thick, pristine white. He stopped a few yards away and stared at the King with soft, blue eyes as he came closer. Arthur tensed. He put a hand on the hilt of the dirk at his belt without looking away. He stood up, careful to avoid any brutal move. He hoped his knights had followed his tracks and would soon appear but he heard nothing. There was only him. Him and the wolf, both standing still in the silent forest.
After a few moments, the wolf continued his way slowly and, it seemed to Arthur, warily. He was slightly crouched, his tail and ears down. He didn’t show any threatening behaviour. The King unsheathed his dirk anyway. It wouldn’t be easy alone against a wolf but if he was quick he might get the upper hand without too much damage.
The beast was at an arm length now. Arthur still hadn’t moved. He couldn’t allow the animal to come much closer or it would be too late. Yet something in the eyes held him back. Their shade of blue felt familiar. Their soft, almost tender expression had a soothing effect on him. The wolf stopped inches away. He raised his head and his muzzle reached for Arthur’s free hand. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his dirk. Then the beast licked his hand. The King relaxed slightly.
When the leather of his glove was covered with saliva, the wolf looked up at him. Arthur was mesmerised by his eyes and the brightness of his fur. He was tempted to run his hand through his fluffy hair but held back. The animal might seem friendly yet he assumed he’d better not push him. Then the beast walked way.
He stopped after a few yards and looked back at Arthur then in front of him then again at Arthur. He sat still, waiting, the King assumed, for him to follow. He hesitated. The whole thing felt too much like a trap. The snakes had clearly been put on his way by some enemy. They didn’t normally move in such a large number nor did they attack a mounted group so large. And now a wolf behaving nothing like one wanted him to follow. Sorcery was the only explanation and he didn’t like it one bit. Especially as it seemed logical for Lord Sallan to try and prevent him for reaching the only place where the Firepoppy grew. The bright side was that it could only be near. The dark one that the fluffy ball of fur could quickly turn into a wild beast if Arthur did something wrong.
In the end, it wasn’t half as bad as what he’d feared. Still not decided to behave like a wolf, the animal rolled his eyes. Then he came back to Arthur, bit in his cloak and attempted to drag him forward.
“Alright,” Arthur said, feeling slightly stupid for talking to an animal. “I’ll come, no need to ruin my cloak.”
The beast must have understood because he let go of the fabric. He padded away and glanced back to make sure Arthur was following. After a while, the King sheathed his dirk and relaxed slightly. Whoever had sent the wolf to summon him seemed a long walk away and he saw no reason to be afraid of the wolf. The beast was trotting merrily in front of him, doubling back from time to time when he was too far ahead. It reminded Arthur of the few moments of innocence in his childhood when he walked with his dogs in the woods. These were happy memories yet the King couldn’t shake off the aching in his chest. Something was off, missing. Then he realised he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been alone in the woods. Even when he didn’t bring his knights, he used to bring his servant. The forest was too silent without Merlin’s cheerful babble. He’d called him a friend but he’d never truly realised how big a place his servant had taken in his life before. He’d grown accustomed to his presence and their teasing. Now his loneliness had a bitter taste.
Light faded quickly. Arthur had been out longer than he’d thought. He hesitated for a moment and finally stopped. The wolf continued for a while. Then, realising that Arthur wasn’t following him, walked back. He sat at his feet and cocked his head to the side, looking up at the man.
“Your eyes are better than mine. It’s almost dark. I don’t want to trip and break my neck.”
Again, the wolf seemed to understand because he lied down, his legs sprawled on the ground. “I’ll collect wood for the fire,” Arthur added and walked away.
The animal was nowhere to be seen when the King came back. He set to light the fire. Only when the flames were roaring did the wolf come back, carrying a rabbit in his mouth. He let the prey fall down in front of Arthur. “For me?” he asked dumbfounded. He hadn’t thought he would eat that night.
The wolf nuzzled the rabbit closer to him. “Thank you,” Arthur said before taking out his dirk to skin the prey.
While the meat cooked, he wondered if he should share with the beast. Judging by the blood on its muzzle, though, he had probably eaten his own prey before coming back. Arthur ended up throwing bits of meat anyway. The wolf leapt, open-mouthed, to catch them, his tail wagging happily. The distraction was a welcomed one for Arthur whose grim mood hadn’t left. But the game ended when the rabbit’s bones were naked. Too soon.
Arthur wasn’t tired enough to sleep yet. His thoughts went back to Camelot and the people who had died while he’d played with the wolf. He wished Merlin was there. He always found a way to cheer him up. He remembered that night when he’d done anything to save him. In the end, he’d lost him all the same. He fought hard to hold back the tears. Then he gave up. Who was there to see anyway?
What did he have left now that the two people who mattered the most had betrayed him? Having people he could trust, people who dared speak their mind to him and didn’t serve their personal interest had been so valuable. Having friends. Now he was stuck with the nobles and their flattery. Alone, crushed under the pressure of his crown. And he missed the friends he had been the one to banish. They’d hurt him, they’d betrayed him and yet he couldn’t forget what they’d shared. He wished they could be there. Gwen didn’t love him anymore and he didn’t love her either, he’d realised, but she would have encouraged him. She would have stayed in Camelot and helped the wounded, given them hope, fought the rumours. And Merlin… Merlin would have been by his side, where he’d always been. When had Arthur become so dependent on his manservant that he felt so lost without him? When had their friendship become so strong that he was longing for Merlin’s smile? For the faith and trust that never left his eyes, even when Arthur doubted himself. And it had all been a lie. Or had it? Arthur wished he had listened to the sorcerer before banishing him. It was too late now. He might never see Merlin again.
Arthur startled when he felt something warm and wet on his hand. The wolf was licking it again, looking at him with sad eyes. The oddity of an enemy’s envoy comforting him struck Arthur but he didn’t linger on the thought. Instead he accepted the soothing gladly. He finally dared to run his fingers through the snowy fur. It was soft and pleasantly warm against his skin.
The regular motion of his hand on the wolf’s neck helped Arthur calm down. When his tears ran dry, he hid his face in the fur, inhaling deep breaths of its musky scent. “It seems you’re my only friend now,” he whispered. “And I don’t even know who’s sent you or where you’re taking me.”
Arthur cringed at his own words. He was definitely becoming soft. He sat up. “Time to sleep.”
He lay down then realised that despite the fire he was going to freeze without any blankets. “Would you be kind enough to sleep with me and share your heat?” he asked the wolf.
The beast cocked his head to the side, fixing him with his strange blue eyes. They were too smart for an animal’s. The King realised he was pondering his words. Arthur closed his eyes, letting him decide. A few moments later, the wolf curled up against him and Arthur smiled.
The King was awoken by someone punching him repeatedly in the side. He opened his eyes with a curse and looked down. The wolf was poking at him with his muzzle. Arthur sat up and the beast moved away with a jerk of the head. The man was surprised to have slept straight through the night without suffering from cold. He must have underestimated the beast’s body heat. He let out another curse when he saw the sun high in the sky. After more than a week of riding and sleeping rough, he desperately needed rest but now wasn’t the time for a lie in. He stood up. “It’s late already. We must leave at once. I’m afraid there will be no breakfast.” Then he wondered why a wolf would have any idea what breakfast was.
The wolf trotted away. Arthur made sure the fire was off and went after him. They made a halt at a stream to quench their thirst on the ice-cold water but apart from that they took no rest. Arthur was too anxious to be over with whatever the matter was, even though he’d grown fond of the wolf.
It was about mid-day when they reached a clearing. In its middle stood seven giant oaks, with trunks so wide two men couldn’t circle them with their arms. They went up tortuously, higher than any tree Arthur had seen. Their naked, gnarled branches sprawled like arms ready to strangle the first being daring to come closer. The ground was wrinkled by their thick roots rising on the surface and diving back a few feet farther. The whole scenery made Arthur shiver. It reminded him of the stories his nurse used to tell him when he was a little boy. Tales where the dead rose to haunt the living. Yet the sight brought him relief too, for he recognised the trees Gaius had talked about.
“You brought me to the place I was looking for!” he exclaimed, astonished.
The wolf held up his head high in pride and trotted merrily around him. Arthur briefly scratched the beast’s neck. He walked towards the trees, dismissing the uneasy feeling they’d brought. He had nothing to fear for now. The wolf hadn’t led him to some dangerous encounter. Something was bothering him, though. How could someone have sent the beast to guide him? Gaius, Leon and the knights he’d brought with him were the only ones to know about the Firepoppy. How could a sorcerer have had access to that information? And admitting he got it, why would he be willing to help?
Arthur stopped dead in his track, his heart missing a beat. He was such a fool. Of course, the eyes felt familiar. He’d seen them every day for years. “Merlin.”
The wolf froze. He turned around slowly and looked at Arthur. His ears were flat, his head low. He crouched, ready to flee. There was a wavering moment while Arthur took in what this discovery meant. His thoughts went back to the previous night and the way he’d let go, thinking nobody could see. The pain of Merlin’s betrayal came rushing back. “You fooled me again!”
The wolf looked down. He had the decency to seem sheepish.
“What have I done for you to take so much pleasure at playing with me?”
Merlin snapped his head up and whined. His eyes were so full of pain, Arthur hesitated to continue. But he was too angry.
“Come on, be a man and get rid of that wolf form to face me. Tell me! The snakes. Was it you? You wanted to bring me away from the knights? So what now?”
The beast bared his teeth, the skin on his nose winkled. He took a step closer.
“If you wanted to kill me you could have done so long ago. So what is it you’re seeking? Is this reward? Destruction? Revenge?”
Merlin growled. Arthur forced himself to stand his ground even though the beast was coming closer, his fangs threatening. The wolf stopped a few feet away. He barked several times, menacing, then he ran away.
It took a few moments for Arthur’s heart to stop racing. He cursed himself for losing his temper when he finally had a chance of facing Merlin again. If he had reacted differently… But there was not time for that. He needed to find the Firepoppy.
He walked to the trees. He panicked a little when he found the roots of the first oak naked. Then the second one. And the third. When Gaius had said the plant would be hard to find in this season, Arthur hadn’t imagined it could mean he wouldn’t find it at all. He let out a victorious cry when he finally saw chiselled leaves. Their back was pale orange, exactly like Gaius had said. He ripped a few off and secured them in the skin pouch hanging at his belt. Then he set to go back to Camelot. It was a long way on foot but going back and trying to find the knights would be even longer.
He’d been walking for a while when four men emerged from behind the trees. They wore chainmail and pieces of amour protected their arms. Arthur recognised the snake on their cloak. Lord Sallan’s knights. The King put a hand to his sword only to let out a curse when his fingers met empty air. He might be a skilled fighter but facing four trained knights armed only with a dirk was hopeless. Until a branch fell with a loud crack on two of his enemies. There was a flash a white fur and the wolf leapt on the closest knight. His teeth sunk deep into the man’s throat, blood staining the snowy muzzle. Rage was burning in the beast’s eyes. The hair raised on Arthur’s neck. When had the soft, cheerful Merlin turned so violent? But the last knight was marching on him, forcing him to focus.
Arthur crouched slightly and raised his dirk. He didn’t need it, in the end. Merlin leapt on the man before he could come close enough to hurt the King. But in his fall, the knight managed to move his sword and hit the wolf’s hind leg. Merlin yelped. Arthur hurried closer, ready to thrust his dirk in the man’s flesh as soon as he was sure not to hurt the wolf in the process. But Merlin didn’t need his help. With one angry bite, he took away half of the knight’s face.
For a moment, the beast stood still on the man’s chest and Arthur feared he would feed on the corpses. Then the wolf got off the knight, limped away from the road and disappeared from the King’s sight. Arthur stood hesitant. After what had just happened, it seemed any mistake could cost him dear. But Merlin was wounded. He took one of the swords lying on the ground and went after the sorcerer.
He found the wolf curled into a ball, his front legs crossed on his muzzle. He was whining softly. If it hadn’t been for the blood on his fur, it would have been hard to tell it was the same wolf that had just butchered two men. He rather looked like a puppy. A hurting, lost puppy.
Arthur thrust the sword in the ground and kneeled next to the wolf. He almost forgot himself and ran a hand through his fur to soothe him but he held back. He couldn’t pet Merlin. Instead, he looked at the deep cut on his hind leg.
“Can’t you do anything for your wound?”
Merlin slightly shook his head.
“Let me have a look.”
The wolf growled.
“You can’t keep on bleeding. Come on.”
Merlin unfolded his front legs and lifted his head. His eyes, full of fear, turned to the sword then to Arthur.
“I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
Their gaze locked for a moment. Then Merlin nodded.
Arthur didn’t have any potions or bandages so he tore away a piece of his cloak and tied it around Merlin’s leg. It wasn’t much but it would at least reduce the blood loss. When he was done the wolf nuzzled Arthur’s hand.
“You’re welcome.”
The King stood up and put the sword through his belt. “I guess that’s where we part.”
Merlin didn’t seem to agree. He bite at Arthur’s cloak and walked a few steps away. “What are you doing?”
Merlin pulled weakly on the fabric. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you but you’ve never been very good at finding your way in the woods. That’s not the way to Camelot.”
The beast pulled again. “I have no time for your games. I need to go back as quickly as possible.”
The wolf growled. “Merlin, this is ridiculous! I know it’s you. You don’t need to hide anymore. Just turn back into yourself and tell me what you want.”
The wolf stood still. When Arthur understood he wouldn’t transform back into a human, he sighed. He wasn’t sure he could trust Merlin again. On the other hand, what had the sorcerer done except helping?
“Right. Show me.”
The wolf padded away and Arthur followed. The blood on the white fur still made him slightly queasy. Merlin washing it away in a stream and turning into a fluffy ball after he shook the water away, spraying Arthur generously in the process, didn’t make the feeling disappear. Now the beast glistened as light caught the thousand icicles that had formed on his hairs.
Arthur got lost in his thoughts as they walked. He had so many questions, so many things he wanted to say. He needed to convince Merlin to turn human again and talk to him. But he couldn’t lose his temper like he had earlier. He had to choose his words carefully.
“Merlin, I-“
The wolf barked. He stopped and sat on his haunches. Arthur stood next to him. He was going to ask what was going on when he heard voices. Then he recognised Percival and Oswin. Merlin had taken him back to the knights. He wouldn’t have to make all the way back to Camelot on foot. “Thank you,” he whispered. But when he looked down, the wolf had disappeared.