His Mage

Three

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For one who had spent her entire life on the road, she had never traveled alone. It took three days for her to work her way back south. She found it strangely lonely without Merlin. She had been with him for almost twenty years. While he wasn't overly affectionate, he was the closest thing to a family she had since she lost hers.

She also felt strangely vulnerable out here alone, but for her eagle and her horse. She had a number of defensive spells and knew how to take care of herself, but a woman alone attracted attention she didn't want.

She scryed for Sir Bedivere's location on her first night alone while she was still north of the wall. She didn't want to venture south where she was in danger from Vortigern's men until she had a clear plan and destination. She chose a small grove of trees a ways away from the road. She gathered tinder, a few small logs, and sat, closing her eyes as she focused on calling fire to her hand. Fire wasn't one of her elements, but Merlin had always insisted she learn the basics of all elemental magic, regardless of her preference for earth magic. Fire came to her call and she threw the small tongue of flames into the dry tinder.

Once the fire was crackling she tossed her combination of herbs into it and cut off a small square of the cloth that had once belonged to Bedivere. She held the cloth in her upturned hand, closed her eyes and focused; breathing deeply until she was in a deeply meditative state. Then she threw the cloth into the fire. The flames seemed to slow and she snapped her eyes open, staring into the heart of the fire. There, in the fire she saw Sir Bedivere. The old knight was living among a group of resistance fighters and their families, hiding from King Vortigern's men.

The second part of the spell required her to wait until morning for the fire to burn itself out. Once the ashes were cool she reached inside and dumped a handful on top of a map she had spread on a rock. She closed her eyes and whispered a few words. A glow started on the map, the spark flared to life and went out just as quickly. She blew the remaining ashes off the map, revealing a small burn mark, no bigger than the tip of her pinky finger. Bedivere was perhaps a day and a half's journey north of Camelot and two days south of her current location. She rolled up the map, slid it into a pouch on her saddle bag and set off.

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She arrived unannounced at Bedivere's hideaway two days later. It was a cave system, buried half underground and well hidden in the surrounding landscape. Had she not used to magic to locate it, she would have had a difficult time.

She rode up to the entrance and sat on her horse, waiting. Surely there were guards, they would need to decide how to proceed when faced with a seemingly unarmed woman.

Moments later a group of armed men came out of the bushes, surrounding her. She kept her face perfectly impassive and didn't allow them to see any hint of fear or any other emotions on her face as they pointed bows at her threateningly.

"I am here to see Sir Bedivere," she called to the men.

They frowned at one another at the sound of her accent. One of the men stepped out from the others. He had dark brown hair and shrewd eyes. While the others seemed uncertain, he was confident and steadfast. He lowered his bow. "There's no one here what goes by that name," he said.

She turned her head to him, capturing his gaze with her own. She tilted her head to the side as she had watched Merlin do to unnerve bigoted villagers. The man shifted his weight, but he didn't look away. It made her think better of him.

"I do not play games," she intoned. "He is expecting me."

She swung down, pulling her cloak around her. Up above her, her eagle landed in one of the top branches of a tree and screamed. The men all flinched at the raptor's sudden appearance. The guard dogs started barking and she turned her head and connected with the beasts, quieting them with little more than a passing thought.