Merlyn's Only Hope

The Beginning of the End P1

Merlyn slipped away through a concealed exit to the stands, hoping that the momentary distraction of the guards would be enough to mask her exit. Arthur had seen her go, but didn't follow, knowing that, from her wide-eyed expression, whatever she was up to wasn't good. The boy followed her, dodging the few guards still on the streets, hiding behind empty stalls. The roads were silent other than the odd set of stray footsteps, as if the whole of Camelot was still sitting in the stands. The only people who hadn't gone, for at least a while, to watch the fight had been the guards on duty, all of whom seemed to have disappeared, vanished amongst the lower town. Merlyn had no idea where she was going to take the boy, but, as she headed for the castle, she knew that she had to think quickly. If the knights weren't searching the streets, then they were guarding the exits to the city; she wasn't sure if she really fancied another fight.

Finally, they made it to the servant's entrance, listening to the shouting behind them. Those who had been watching the tournament had scattered, running back to their homes, with the exception of the knights and guards, who all now seemed to be chasing them. Cursing, Merlyn knew that, no matter how many secret passageways they used, they would never make it back to her chambers situated on the other side of the castle. Besides, it would be a miracle if she managed to hide her identity for that long. She grabbed the boy's hand, dragging him up a spiral staircase and away from the knights, who all ran past without so much as a sideways glance, probably not thinking for even a moment anyone would dare hide in Morgana's quarters.

She shut the door quietly behind her, breathing heavily. There wasn't much time left before her two friends came back; she wasn't sure if she could get them caught up in this. Sighing, she slumped to the floor, contemplating her options. She didn't have many, and none seemed particularly good. Unfortunately, she took too long: the door burst open, revealing Morgana and Gwen, the latter yelping at the sight of Merlyn and the child. Galahad was on their heels, wagging his tail merrily at the sight of company.

"Merlyn? What are you doing here?" Morgana asked, understandably incredibly confused.

"They were after him; I didn't know what to do." Merlyn was desperate. She realised that she needed help: there was no way of getting the boy out of Camelot alone, not, at least, until the commotion died down.

Before Morgana had a chance to reply, there was a pounding on her door.

"My lady?" a knight shouted from the other side of it, pressing the ward into a decision.

"In there." Morgana pointed to a small alcove concealed behind a velvet curtain. Merlyn dashed towards it, the boy not too far behind. As soon as they were safely hidden, the ward opened her door.

"I'm so very sorry to disturb you, my lady, but we're searching for a young boy and believe he may have come this way." Merlyn rolled her eyes, wondering if Morgana would ever be able to extract the guard's nose from her arse.

"I haven't seen anyone, it's just me and my maid." Morgana lied smoothly, blocking the guard's view of the room with her body.

"Best to keep your door locked." the guard nodded, heading back down to the wild goose chase below.

It was then that the likely druid boy collapsed, a short whine of pain passing through his lips. Merlyn caught him in her arms, her hand reddening with blood from a sword wound on his side.

The guard had been tripled by Uther's decree, desperate to find the child. Merlyn knew that Arthur had tried his best to get his father too see reason, but, as far as magic was concerned, he was blind.

Upon removing the druid boy's shirt to check the injury, Merlyn had discoverer a numbers of symbols, most of them blessings in the old religion. She bandaged the wound, hoping that it wouldn't become infected, squeezing the druid's hand before joining Morgana by the window. Galahad took her place, curling up next to the druid, allowing him to stroke her shiny fur.