'Night of Destiny' Chapter 3
Night of destiny
Chapter 3
The fire had been dwindling slowly and it was getting cold. Merlin put some more logs on it, but they were damp and the flames died down momentarily. Automatically he took the flint stone and tried to rekindle the fire.
‘Why don’t you use magic?’ He heard Arthur’s voice from behind, cold and deadpan, but had there not been a tiny bit of curiosity in it, too?
‘Habit, I suppose.’ Merlin lowered the stone and a short flicker of golden eyes brought the flames back in an instant.
‘Feels strange.’ Merlin mumbled, feeling rather uncomfortable and strangely guilty about using magic in front of Arthur, even if it was only for something as benign as making fire.
‘Yeah’ Arthur was staring at the fire. Magic. Merlin.He felt mentally exhausted trying to combine the two. His stomach was still as tight as a clenched fist.
‘I trusted you.’ There was a lot of hurt in the sentence.
‘I am sorry.’ was all Merlin mustered. There was a pause filled only with the crackling of a fire lit by magic. Merlin felt emotionally drained, too. As much as he wanted to talk to Arthur about everything, the fact that he needed Arthur to reject magic in front of the disir the next day in order to keep him safe, was more important than anything else.
‘Why did you never tell me?’ Arthur sounded perplexed and angry, but now seemed to be willing to start a conversation.
‘I wanted to,’ Merlin started, uncertain, ‘but……’
‘What?’ snapped Arthur, expecting some kind of phoney excuse.
‘You would have chopped my head off.’
Arthur sought Merlin’s eyes. The warlock had spoken in a very matter of fact way. The comment and the tone had hit him like a bolt of lightning. Merlin had not trusted him enough to share his secret, he had thought that he would sentence him to death, as the law demanded. For a second Arthur felt outraged. He was not his father. He…he….but then he stopped in mid thought as he had to admit to himself and his servant:
‘I am not sure what I would have done’
The realization shocked Arthur. He really was not sure. And if he was not sure how could Merlin have been? If this had happened in Camelot, if he had felt as angry and betrayed as he did now, would he not have sent Merlin to the dungeons on the spot? At least?!
‘I did not want to put you into that position.’ Merlin replied calmly at that moment.
Arthur winced, feeling as if someone had stabbed him into his heart. So it was not that Merlin did not trust him enough. He had thought of him and what dilemma he might face before anything else. He had not told him because he did not want to put the burden of such a horrendous decision on his shoulders.
‘Is that what worried you?’ He exclaimed in disbelief. When he searched Merlin’s face all he found was honesty and integrity. Merlin had felt the shift in mood. Arthur’s eyes were not as icy blue as they had been and he seemed to be able to look him full in the face now.
Suddenly one of the bandits stirred, moaning in pain.
‘We have to get them secured.’ Arthur rose to get some rope from the saddle bag. They worked together without needing to utter one word. Most of the survivors were severely concussed and had broken bones and it was enough to tie their hands behind the back. The young king had just bent down to check on the ties of the man lying on the ground before him. Merlin stood in front of him getting more rope to tie the last bandit that was lying slightly further afield.
He heard the knife before he spotted it. The last bandit had been more awake than they had believed. He had managed to get up in a spilt second and to throw his knife skilfully at Arthur. By the time Merlin turned round and saw it, it was too close. A shimmer of gold in the eyes was too little and too late to divert its course. There was only one way of making sure it would not hit the king. Merlin jumped and the dagger hit his body with full force. There had been so much power in it that it lodged itself in Merlin chest right up to the hilt.
By the time Arthur had become aware of what had happened Merlin had slumped on the ground at his feet. The bandit had been long swallowed by the darkness of the forest.
‘Merlin!’ Arthur bent down in shock and horror. When he turned Merlin over he stopped short. He had seen many battle wounds and knew about their properties. This was not good. The dagger was stuck in his chest very close to his heart. Blood stained the soft, moss covered ground beneath him and poured out of the wound profusely. Arthur knew better than to pull out the knife. What he needed to do was stem the bleeding. He did what he could and thought would help and then put Merlin gently on one of the blankets that had been lying on the ground.
Arthur sat down beside him, waiting. He searched Merlin’s face and relived that fateful night. Merlin, a sorcerer! His heart ached shortly at the thought, but then he looked at him again, and the overwhelming feeling of betrayal, anger, and,yes, loss suddenly started ebbing away. All Arthur could see now was his friend who lay there in front of him, unconscious and paling more and more by the second, because he had chosen to protect him, willing to sacrifice his life for that of his king and his friend.
How often had Merlin hinted at it throughout the years!
You don’t know how many times I have saved your life.
I swear I will protect you or die by your side.
This had been not so long ago. The hints had always been there though, Arthur realized. He had often smiled a little to himself on these occasions. How could his clumsy servant inept in any form of combat, even think about protecting him? Arthur had accepted it gracefully as a token of his loyalty. But then, there had always been something about Merlin Arthur had not been able to fathom. Something he could not put his finger on. Now he knew what that something had been and a lot of things that had happened became clearer.
It seemed that Merlin had always protected him, right from the very first day they had met. Arthur smiled shortly at the memory. I bet he used magic - he would never have lasted that long otherwise! He could recall that very first meeting as if it had been yesterday.
At this moment Merlin woke up, coughing and spluttering blood all over his chest.
‘What happened?’ He asked confused, his voice shaking with weakness.
‘A dagger hit you:’ Arthur explained. ‘You are bleeding.’
Merlin became aware of the knife sticking out of his chest.
‘That’s alright. I thought I was dying. ’ What should have been a smile turned into a distorted grimace as Merlin had tried to move too sudden. He groaned in agony. As his mind cleared a little of the pain he remembered everything. Everything that had happened that night.
‘Arthur. …’ he started, but let out another yelp as an excruciating sting went through his body.
‘Stay still.’ Arthur ordered.
‘I am sorry I never told you.’ Merlin had really needed to say it.
Arthur felt moved that even now when his friend was fading, he thought of him.
‘I am sorry about how I treated you.’ He replied with sincerity in his voice. He paused.
‘Can you not do …… something?’ Arthur asked, nodding towards the wound.
Merlin understood what he meant. He shook his head slowly. ‘I am…. too weak.’
Arthur bit his lip and swallowed hard. It could not end like this. He refused to believe that.
Merlin felt really lightheaded and he could tell that he was bleeding on the inside. He had treated many a wound under the guidance of Gaius and had no false hope. He knew very well that he could not last for much longer.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Almost there!