That One Time Arthur... (Merlin - PG)
Title: That One Time Arthur Was Beaten By a Pixie Pictsie (And Merlin Never Let Him Live It Down)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2498
Warnings/Spoilers: Wee crossover with Discworld. And a shameless abuse of the Scottish accent. Shameless.
Summary: Really, the title says it all.
Notes: Huuuuuge thanks to my beta, halfnorn who suggested they have sex when I was stuck halfway through the fic, which lead to:
"Whit's that?"
"Ooch, that be slash Away wit ye 'far it catch ye too!"
It was well into summer when one of the kingdom's many country lords arrived to Camelot to plead his case for royal assistance against bandits that were besieging his tiny manor. As of yet, the only crimes committed were the theft of five cows, three chickens, a goat, and nearly all the spirits in the surrounding area. All without anyone being seen committing the alleged crimes. As though these thieves had some sort of supernatural help to achieve their ends, as Lord Aldhelm so skillfully insinuated. Sorcery was, as always, the perfect key word to get Uther's attention even when the more reasonable explanation of disgruntled servants would have made more sense.
Therefore it was on Prince Arthur to valiantly save the land from the evils of magic and defeat whatever was attacking the wine supplies.
That was how it all technically began. Or, rather, what lead up to Arthur's unfortunate state of being tangled up like a sulky fish in a net. He'd managed to step on the net trap that Lord Aldhelm's men had, in a surprisingly well done manner, set up in an effort to capture the thieves. He really should be glad the only witness to this was one manservant and not an entire company of his knights. Though, he was absolutely certain the knights wouldn't snicker like a certain idiot was now that the surprise was over.
Needless to say, someone was going to see a lot of rotting fruit in the near future.
"Will you stop staring and get me down?" Arthur demanded peevishly as he struggled to free himself in a manner that could easily be mistaken for a temper tantrum.
"Of course," Merlin replied, trying to stifle his laughter now that the immediate shock of the trap being sprung had passed and he was safe from being smacked with a boot. "My lord."
He paused, looking for anything that would give way in the rope and found that Arthur's weight was doing all the work in keeping the net tight around him as it was held just a few feet off the ground. "Er... how, exactly?"
Arthur gritted his teeth, going calm and still in a way that pointed towards imminent shouting and throwing of things at Merlin's head if he did not cease having the mental affliction that made him such an absolute moron. "It's being held up so there must be an end of the rope somewhere, Merlin. Find it."
"...right." Merlin looked up, following the line of the rope where it went into the the trees above them. "Got it!"
And darted off into the woods before Arthur could adequately protest being left like a netted fish.
"You'll need a knife to cut it!" He was beginning to think Merlin did this sort of thing on purpose. "Idiot."
With no response forthcoming, he slumped a little to relax his muscles before he ended up useless in a fight should they find these 'bandits'. Or find himself unable to tackle Merlin to the ground and rub dirt in his ridiculous hair before denying the entire encounter as completely unprincely behavior. And he'd never do anything like that.
The height he was currently at shifted down just a bit, alerting him to the fact of Merlin somehow managing to find the end of the rope. That was about when he became aware of how eerily silent the little spot of forest they were in had gotten. A few hares darted out of the underbrush past him, spooked by something just west of them.
Perfect.
He drew a dagger, cutting into the net himself in the face of the more than likely chance that Merlin didn't get this taken care of before whatever it was that sent the game running came upon them. Knowing their luck, it would be some horrible beast. He doubled his efforts, managing to cut just enough to fit his arm through. That was helpful.
Really.
So much so that, when the underbrush rustled ominously and the noise of what he could have sworn were footsteps that came faster and much softer than strictly possible, he was busy struggling to free himself all the more. "Merlin--" He said, trying to keep his voice down to alert Merlin to the potential danger before he was attacked or went all doe-eyed and girly about whatever it was.
"Got it!" Merlin called back, oblivious to any potential harm. As the net gave way, it was only through sheer luck that he managed not to stab himself with the dagger.
"Merlin, you idiot--" Arthur froze mid-insulting tirade on Merlin's talents as a servant as he came face to--an entire body of small, blue men. His mouth fell open in shock and they in turn glared back at him as though he'd insulted their mother.
One of the tiny, blue men stepped up to question hm. "Wha are you?"
Tiny, blue, kilt clad men. Arthur was beginning to wonder if he had, perhaps, stuck his head when the net fell and was having some horrible dream to explain this insanity.
"Arthur, are you alr--" Merlin started and stopped halfway through, rounding a tree to see Arthur and his company.
The band of miniature bandits turned their attention from him to an extremely puzzled Merlin just long enough for Arthur to wriggle out of the net and pull his sword in order to strike a suitably princely pose. "You are trespassing on Camelot's lands," He informed the creatures with as much dignity as possible, what with his hair looking like he'd been in a windstorm. "You will leave now or I will make you leave."
There was a moment of silence as the men glanced at each other in a sort of amused confusion. "Wha daes he think be?" One asked, crossing his arms over his bare chest.
"Awantin a tuilyie," Another answered to the vicious delight of the rest of the group. "Ay!"
There was another pause as Merlin very carefully eased closer to Arthur. "What did they just say?"
Arthur, not about to admit any sort of confusion in front of an opponent--even if they were notedly smaller (and bluer?) than most he'd encountered before--remained silent, not lowering his sword anymore than eye level with the beasts.
"Do you even know?" Merlin asked, clearly not aware of when to stay silent.
"Of course I know!" Arthur finally snapped.
Merlin shot him a look and just had to keep on blathering. "Are you sure?"
"Merlin!" There was a clear, if silent, addition of 'do not undermine me in front of the magical creature' there.
During this time, the men had busied themselves in a very serious debate on just who would get to fight the bigjob. It seemed to be decided as what they could only assume was the fiercest of their number stepped forward. "Awricht than! Lats see wha wins, purty boy!"
"You're not honestly considering fighting a--a--pixie, are you?" Merlin asked, looking down at the men and then back up at Arthur.
The group called out, "Pictsie!" as a slightly disgruntled correction that neither of them would actually pick up on.
Merlin continued on, heedless of the correct spelling as he spared one confused look down at them, "They're barely a hand high."
"Then it should be over quickly," Arthur replied, trying futilely to look his opponent in the eye. He didn't have time for Merlin's girlish bleeding heart. Not even when he made those sad eyes at him.
(Stay strong, Arthur. Stay strong.)
Any further argument on the matter was shelved as the man--Pictsie-- took off running at Arthur's feet with an unintelligible battle cry. Arthur swung the sword down at him, burying it in the dirt as he moved faster than expected in route to headbutt the, thankfully, strong metal of Arthur's greaves with the same amount of force as a battle ax striking. For that reason, one could forgive Arthur for toppling down and making an outraged squawk as he reached for his sword again. How the hell was it fair that something so small could pack such a strong punch?
The man also fell back, shaking his head as if to clear stars from his vision. "Me heid!"
"My ankle," Arthur snapped back at him, glaring at the blasted creature as though it was the only way to properly convey his outrage and mortification at being knocked down by a fairy.
"...so perhaps they didn't need any worrying after," Merlin admitted needlessly. There was an entire month on the stocks planned for his imminent future.
Arthur turned the glare on him, eyes wide and wild in anger. "Really, Merlin? What gave that away?"
Merlin shot him a foul look, lips pursed for all of five seconds before the full realization of what just happened hit him. "You--" He was trying very hard not to laugh now. "--were beaten by a Pixie."
"Pictsie, ye daft boy!"
"Oh, shut up," Arthur replied, continuing to glare in hopes of somehow setting the boy on fire with the power of his hatred. "It--" He glared down at his injured leg and manfully ignored his bruised ego. "It dented my armor!"
Merlin was going to spend any time he wasn't in the stocks fixing this.
The remaining men were milling around their appointed champion in the fight, teasing him about his inability to pick a decent target. "Daed ye forgit how to aim?"
"Ye willna be gatten ony ale the nicht!" one said, laughing and slapping him on the shoulder.
The group laughed until one piped in with, "Ye can hae Big Rob's pairt!"
"Hey!"
That was when it quickly turned into a semi-friendly scuffle of the group over the division of the pilfered alcohol.
Merlin, it seemed, was beside himself as he tried very hard not to laugh at this. "You were beaten by a fairy."
In addition to the stocks, the entire stable and all the armor belonging to Arthur's knights would be waiting for him to clean once they got back to Camelot. It would serve Merlin right. "Would you care to try fighting one? Or would you need to change your trousers after you suffered all this terror?"
That, Arthur was pleased to say, shut him up enough for the glaring to ease up. "Now--"
No, he spoke too soon. Merlin was just covering his mouth to keep the snickers from being heard. The punishment was now doubled. All the damned chamberpots in the castle.
"Now, if you're done being a child," Arthur said, reaching down to feel his shin and ankle to make sure they weren't broken. Yes, by a fairy. Whatever he planned to follow that with was interrupted as one of the creatures was tossed out of the small, angry, blue fight going on to land on Arthur's foot.
"Ye bastarts!" he shouted, struggling off the sabaton to rejoin the fray with an inarticulate battle cry that, hopefully drowned out Arthur's strangled shriek of surprise, if his fragile ego was to survive this encounter.
"You will leave these lands by order of King Uther," Arthur tried again, ignoring the increasingly colorful curses coming from the fight as he managed to get back to his feet with his sword as a support. "And you will cease stealing from these people."
It was not all like a slightly desperate afterthought. Truly.
One of the Pictsies stumbled out of the fight, swaying slightly from a hard blow to the head. "We anely steal frae yon thae kin affard to lose," he insisted, shaking a small fist at Arthur. There was a resounding cheer of agreement from the fight, which was slowly simmering down.
Arthur choked back a frustrated noise and tried once more to end this in a way that didn't involve having to explain to his father that a small, blue man broke his leg. "Magic is banned in Camelot."
It was the mention of law that caused the men to pause thoughtfully before one ventured forward to declare, "Guid and weel! Canna abide by it. Hags be quirkie ta deal wi." The others around him nodded in very serious agreement.
That--hadn't exactly been the answer Arthur had expected and--good god, he was understanding their mangled words now. "You are magical creatures," Arthur gritted out while Merlin suddenly took liberties on his royal person. He didn't need any assistance standing!
He would simply tell him that later. If he found the time.
"Your very existence breaks the law here."
There was something dawning on the expressions of the tiny, blue men at that. They gathered around in a circle for a hushed debate on the matter. The only things Arthur managed to pick up on out of it was 'Lawyer!' and 'Sue tha bastart!', but clearly none of thatmade sense.
"We sall leave. For a cost," one said, stepping away from the group as the appointed spokesman.
Arthur tensed up, face going red as he was about to demand they not try his patience on this matter, but before he could start up another fight, Merlin spoke up. "What price?"
"Merlin!" Arthur said, craning his head to give him an outraged look for even thinking about negotiating with these creatures.
Merlin just shot him a look back that very unfairly judged him to be mentally deficient. "Unless you'd rather explain this to your father..."
The Pictsies spokesman leaned forward with a vicious little grin. "Three baurels a nappie. Deleevered in a fortnicht."
"Two," Arthur countered automatically, planning something horrible to do to Merlin for even starting this in the first place.
The men muttered amongst themselves for a moment before they sent the spokesman back out to nod in assent. "Twa at be, lad."
That was nowhere near as steep a price as he had assumed it would be at first. "And you won't return to these lands?"
"Ay, sae lang as we be--" He spit. "--Eel-legal."
"Deal," Arthur said, chin held high as he took a deep breath. He was doing perfectly fine at this diplomacy, so Merlin really shouldn't be quite so tense against his side there.
"Ane fortnicht," The blue man reminded him as the others started to disappear into the underbrush.
Arthur nodded with the same solemn sincerity as he did whenever he promised: "You have my word on it."
There was one last nod in understanding from the Pictsies before they vanished without any sound or indication of where they'd gone.
Merlin swallowed loudly, finally seeming to exhale once they were gone. "That went well," He said weakly.
"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur grumbled in response, hobbling back toward where they had come, leaning on Merlin more than he'd care to admit. "We have to arrange those barrels."
"Of course, sire." Merlin had that damned little smile of his when he thought Arthur was being nicer to him than he ought to. Which he shouldn't really have so often.
Even if it was true sometimes.
"And for god's sake, what are you? Skin and bones? It's like leaning against a twig."
Merlin snorted in amusement as he helped him back toward the manor. "Whatever you say, Arthur."
---
As the pair bickered their way into the sunset together, the Pictsies continued to mill about, just beyond where they could be seen.
"Emrys, aye?" one said, causing more than a few to spit on the ground. "Warlocks. Waurse than hags."
There was a small, thoughtful pause among the assembled men there.
"An dae ye see he ears?"
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2498
Warnings/Spoilers: Wee crossover with Discworld. And a shameless abuse of the Scottish accent. Shameless.
Summary: Really, the title says it all.
Notes: Huuuuuge thanks to my beta, halfnorn who suggested they have sex when I was stuck halfway through the fic, which lead to:
"Whit's that?"
"Ooch, that be slash Away wit ye 'far it catch ye too!"
It was well into summer when one of the kingdom's many country lords arrived to Camelot to plead his case for royal assistance against bandits that were besieging his tiny manor. As of yet, the only crimes committed were the theft of five cows, three chickens, a goat, and nearly all the spirits in the surrounding area. All without anyone being seen committing the alleged crimes. As though these thieves had some sort of supernatural help to achieve their ends, as Lord Aldhelm so skillfully insinuated. Sorcery was, as always, the perfect key word to get Uther's attention even when the more reasonable explanation of disgruntled servants would have made more sense.
Therefore it was on Prince Arthur to valiantly save the land from the evils of magic and defeat whatever was attacking the wine supplies.
That was how it all technically began. Or, rather, what lead up to Arthur's unfortunate state of being tangled up like a sulky fish in a net. He'd managed to step on the net trap that Lord Aldhelm's men had, in a surprisingly well done manner, set up in an effort to capture the thieves. He really should be glad the only witness to this was one manservant and not an entire company of his knights. Though, he was absolutely certain the knights wouldn't snicker like a certain idiot was now that the surprise was over.
Needless to say, someone was going to see a lot of rotting fruit in the near future.
"Will you stop staring and get me down?" Arthur demanded peevishly as he struggled to free himself in a manner that could easily be mistaken for a temper tantrum.
"Of course," Merlin replied, trying to stifle his laughter now that the immediate shock of the trap being sprung had passed and he was safe from being smacked with a boot. "My lord."
He paused, looking for anything that would give way in the rope and found that Arthur's weight was doing all the work in keeping the net tight around him as it was held just a few feet off the ground. "Er... how, exactly?"
Arthur gritted his teeth, going calm and still in a way that pointed towards imminent shouting and throwing of things at Merlin's head if he did not cease having the mental affliction that made him such an absolute moron. "It's being held up so there must be an end of the rope somewhere, Merlin. Find it."
"...right." Merlin looked up, following the line of the rope where it went into the the trees above them. "Got it!"
And darted off into the woods before Arthur could adequately protest being left like a netted fish.
"You'll need a knife to cut it!" He was beginning to think Merlin did this sort of thing on purpose. "Idiot."
With no response forthcoming, he slumped a little to relax his muscles before he ended up useless in a fight should they find these 'bandits'. Or find himself unable to tackle Merlin to the ground and rub dirt in his ridiculous hair before denying the entire encounter as completely unprincely behavior. And he'd never do anything like that.
The height he was currently at shifted down just a bit, alerting him to the fact of Merlin somehow managing to find the end of the rope. That was about when he became aware of how eerily silent the little spot of forest they were in had gotten. A few hares darted out of the underbrush past him, spooked by something just west of them.
Perfect.
He drew a dagger, cutting into the net himself in the face of the more than likely chance that Merlin didn't get this taken care of before whatever it was that sent the game running came upon them. Knowing their luck, it would be some horrible beast. He doubled his efforts, managing to cut just enough to fit his arm through. That was helpful.
Really.
So much so that, when the underbrush rustled ominously and the noise of what he could have sworn were footsteps that came faster and much softer than strictly possible, he was busy struggling to free himself all the more. "Merlin--" He said, trying to keep his voice down to alert Merlin to the potential danger before he was attacked or went all doe-eyed and girly about whatever it was.
"Got it!" Merlin called back, oblivious to any potential harm. As the net gave way, it was only through sheer luck that he managed not to stab himself with the dagger.
"Merlin, you idiot--" Arthur froze mid-insulting tirade on Merlin's talents as a servant as he came face to--an entire body of small, blue men. His mouth fell open in shock and they in turn glared back at him as though he'd insulted their mother.
One of the tiny, blue men stepped up to question hm. "Wha are you?"
Tiny, blue, kilt clad men. Arthur was beginning to wonder if he had, perhaps, stuck his head when the net fell and was having some horrible dream to explain this insanity.
"Arthur, are you alr--" Merlin started and stopped halfway through, rounding a tree to see Arthur and his company.
The band of miniature bandits turned their attention from him to an extremely puzzled Merlin just long enough for Arthur to wriggle out of the net and pull his sword in order to strike a suitably princely pose. "You are trespassing on Camelot's lands," He informed the creatures with as much dignity as possible, what with his hair looking like he'd been in a windstorm. "You will leave now or I will make you leave."
There was a moment of silence as the men glanced at each other in a sort of amused confusion. "Wha daes he think be?" One asked, crossing his arms over his bare chest.
"Awantin a tuilyie," Another answered to the vicious delight of the rest of the group. "Ay!"
There was another pause as Merlin very carefully eased closer to Arthur. "What did they just say?"
Arthur, not about to admit any sort of confusion in front of an opponent--even if they were notedly smaller (and bluer?) than most he'd encountered before--remained silent, not lowering his sword anymore than eye level with the beasts.
"Do you even know?" Merlin asked, clearly not aware of when to stay silent.
"Of course I know!" Arthur finally snapped.
Merlin shot him a look and just had to keep on blathering. "Are you sure?"
"Merlin!" There was a clear, if silent, addition of 'do not undermine me in front of the magical creature' there.
During this time, the men had busied themselves in a very serious debate on just who would get to fight the bigjob. It seemed to be decided as what they could only assume was the fiercest of their number stepped forward. "Awricht than! Lats see wha wins, purty boy!"
"You're not honestly considering fighting a--a--pixie, are you?" Merlin asked, looking down at the men and then back up at Arthur.
The group called out, "Pictsie!" as a slightly disgruntled correction that neither of them would actually pick up on.
Merlin continued on, heedless of the correct spelling as he spared one confused look down at them, "They're barely a hand high."
"Then it should be over quickly," Arthur replied, trying futilely to look his opponent in the eye. He didn't have time for Merlin's girlish bleeding heart. Not even when he made those sad eyes at him.
(Stay strong, Arthur. Stay strong.)
Any further argument on the matter was shelved as the man--Pictsie-- took off running at Arthur's feet with an unintelligible battle cry. Arthur swung the sword down at him, burying it in the dirt as he moved faster than expected in route to headbutt the, thankfully, strong metal of Arthur's greaves with the same amount of force as a battle ax striking. For that reason, one could forgive Arthur for toppling down and making an outraged squawk as he reached for his sword again. How the hell was it fair that something so small could pack such a strong punch?
The man also fell back, shaking his head as if to clear stars from his vision. "Me heid!"
"My ankle," Arthur snapped back at him, glaring at the blasted creature as though it was the only way to properly convey his outrage and mortification at being knocked down by a fairy.
"...so perhaps they didn't need any worrying after," Merlin admitted needlessly. There was an entire month on the stocks planned for his imminent future.
Arthur turned the glare on him, eyes wide and wild in anger. "Really, Merlin? What gave that away?"
Merlin shot him a foul look, lips pursed for all of five seconds before the full realization of what just happened hit him. "You--" He was trying very hard not to laugh now. "--were beaten by a Pixie."
"Pictsie, ye daft boy!"
"Oh, shut up," Arthur replied, continuing to glare in hopes of somehow setting the boy on fire with the power of his hatred. "It--" He glared down at his injured leg and manfully ignored his bruised ego. "It dented my armor!"
Merlin was going to spend any time he wasn't in the stocks fixing this.
The remaining men were milling around their appointed champion in the fight, teasing him about his inability to pick a decent target. "Daed ye forgit how to aim?"
"Ye willna be gatten ony ale the nicht!" one said, laughing and slapping him on the shoulder.
The group laughed until one piped in with, "Ye can hae Big Rob's pairt!"
"Hey!"
That was when it quickly turned into a semi-friendly scuffle of the group over the division of the pilfered alcohol.
Merlin, it seemed, was beside himself as he tried very hard not to laugh at this. "You were beaten by a fairy."
In addition to the stocks, the entire stable and all the armor belonging to Arthur's knights would be waiting for him to clean once they got back to Camelot. It would serve Merlin right. "Would you care to try fighting one? Or would you need to change your trousers after you suffered all this terror?"
That, Arthur was pleased to say, shut him up enough for the glaring to ease up. "Now--"
No, he spoke too soon. Merlin was just covering his mouth to keep the snickers from being heard. The punishment was now doubled. All the damned chamberpots in the castle.
"Now, if you're done being a child," Arthur said, reaching down to feel his shin and ankle to make sure they weren't broken. Yes, by a fairy. Whatever he planned to follow that with was interrupted as one of the creatures was tossed out of the small, angry, blue fight going on to land on Arthur's foot.
"Ye bastarts!" he shouted, struggling off the sabaton to rejoin the fray with an inarticulate battle cry that, hopefully drowned out Arthur's strangled shriek of surprise, if his fragile ego was to survive this encounter.
"You will leave these lands by order of King Uther," Arthur tried again, ignoring the increasingly colorful curses coming from the fight as he managed to get back to his feet with his sword as a support. "And you will cease stealing from these people."
It was not all like a slightly desperate afterthought. Truly.
One of the Pictsies stumbled out of the fight, swaying slightly from a hard blow to the head. "We anely steal frae yon thae kin affard to lose," he insisted, shaking a small fist at Arthur. There was a resounding cheer of agreement from the fight, which was slowly simmering down.
Arthur choked back a frustrated noise and tried once more to end this in a way that didn't involve having to explain to his father that a small, blue man broke his leg. "Magic is banned in Camelot."
It was the mention of law that caused the men to pause thoughtfully before one ventured forward to declare, "Guid and weel! Canna abide by it. Hags be quirkie ta deal wi." The others around him nodded in very serious agreement.
That--hadn't exactly been the answer Arthur had expected and--good god, he was understanding their mangled words now. "You are magical creatures," Arthur gritted out while Merlin suddenly took liberties on his royal person. He didn't need any assistance standing!
He would simply tell him that later. If he found the time.
"Your very existence breaks the law here."
There was something dawning on the expressions of the tiny, blue men at that. They gathered around in a circle for a hushed debate on the matter. The only things Arthur managed to pick up on out of it was 'Lawyer!' and 'Sue tha bastart!', but clearly none of thatmade sense.
"We sall leave. For a cost," one said, stepping away from the group as the appointed spokesman.
Arthur tensed up, face going red as he was about to demand they not try his patience on this matter, but before he could start up another fight, Merlin spoke up. "What price?"
"Merlin!" Arthur said, craning his head to give him an outraged look for even thinking about negotiating with these creatures.
Merlin just shot him a look back that very unfairly judged him to be mentally deficient. "Unless you'd rather explain this to your father..."
The Pictsies spokesman leaned forward with a vicious little grin. "Three baurels a nappie. Deleevered in a fortnicht."
"Two," Arthur countered automatically, planning something horrible to do to Merlin for even starting this in the first place.
The men muttered amongst themselves for a moment before they sent the spokesman back out to nod in assent. "Twa at be, lad."
That was nowhere near as steep a price as he had assumed it would be at first. "And you won't return to these lands?"
"Ay, sae lang as we be--" He spit. "--Eel-legal."
"Deal," Arthur said, chin held high as he took a deep breath. He was doing perfectly fine at this diplomacy, so Merlin really shouldn't be quite so tense against his side there.
"Ane fortnicht," The blue man reminded him as the others started to disappear into the underbrush.
Arthur nodded with the same solemn sincerity as he did whenever he promised: "You have my word on it."
There was one last nod in understanding from the Pictsies before they vanished without any sound or indication of where they'd gone.
Merlin swallowed loudly, finally seeming to exhale once they were gone. "That went well," He said weakly.
"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur grumbled in response, hobbling back toward where they had come, leaning on Merlin more than he'd care to admit. "We have to arrange those barrels."
"Of course, sire." Merlin had that damned little smile of his when he thought Arthur was being nicer to him than he ought to. Which he shouldn't really have so often.
Even if it was true sometimes.
"And for god's sake, what are you? Skin and bones? It's like leaning against a twig."
Merlin snorted in amusement as he helped him back toward the manor. "Whatever you say, Arthur."
---
As the pair bickered their way into the sunset together, the Pictsies continued to mill about, just beyond where they could be seen.
"Emrys, aye?" one said, causing more than a few to spit on the ground. "Warlocks. Waurse than hags."
There was a small, thoughtful pause among the assembled men there.
"An dae ye see he ears?"