The Emerald Thief - Merlin BBC [1]

Chapter 3: My Game

I sit on a makeshift bed consisting of bundled blankets. I tap my foot in rhythm with a dripping sound echoing through the halls outside to pass the time. The floor is riddled with yellow hay, a damp smell filling my nose because of it, suggesting the room leaks when it rains. Splendid. Little light comes into the cell, reminding me of my hate for small spaces. It's something that's plagued me since my childhood. Overhead is a barred window that will provide small light in the morning.

To keep my anxiety of small places at bay, I knit together strands of hay. I make a variety of different necklaces and bracelets, knowing this will only help for a short time. It's a horrible thought, but I'd rather get it over with and be hung than have to face my fear for long periods. No one would know on the outside that I'm having a hard time. My trained ability to contain emotion is in good use.

The knights haven't returned for a few hours. That suggests either the King doesn't wish to deal with me until morning, or he and the council are in discussion. I'd prefer plan B, so I don't have to spend over 12 hours in the cell. He may even be sending for Olaf for all I know, that being a sensible decision.

Despite knowing what is to come, I'm pretty calm about being captured. Alienation is the best thing I've ever learnt. It keeps me from being burdened with the emotions that effortlessly linger on a person. My druid upbringing had a massive effect on learning to control my feelings, of course, coming in handy. I learnt over time to put aside something as common as feelings altogether. This skill is practically something that is a part of me now.

Olaf's betrayal has woken me to my carelessness, and it's only made me hate myself more for letting another's emotions trap me. It doesn't matter now, though. Unless I can conjure up a grand escape, any future–revenge being a common one–are nothing of use. There's no point dwelling on something you can't have. I've learnt that the hard way.

Firm footsteps echo off the stone walls, catching my attention as someone approaches. My gaze immediately falls to the barred door. Leon comes into sight, his appearance now cleaner as he's now dressed in fresh attire. In hand, I catch sight of the shackles, jumping up to my feet faster than any prisoner would. This catches Leon off guard, but he collects himself.

"The King wishes to see you," he announces, unhooking the key from his belt and jerking open the cell door. I practically throw myself at Leon as he puts the shackles on my wrists, far too eager to get out of this cell. He places a firm grip around my upper arm, pulling me from the cell. He's not as harsh as the guards before, but not too soft either.

Walking at a comfortable pace, Leon led me back through the halls I had entered. We diverge into a new corridor before ascending a further flight of stairs to a new maze of hallways. I can tell by the change in furnishings and décor that we are headed for the main hall. However, that was already common knowledge.

I make sure to take note of unique displays in each hallway so I have recognition if I have the chance to escape. If. Blue vase five paces from the stairs. Candle stand 15 paces from that. Right turn. Red canvas on the wall ten paces away. Left turn.

Three other knights follow behind and alongside Leon, not taking any chances to slip up. Olaf would have warned them I tend to be slippery.

From observation and my treatment, I have concluded that Leon is a trusted knight of Camelot. This conclusion came from him having more decency than the other knights who have handled me so far. That would mean Elyan, Gwaine and Percival are also trusted. This observation is clarified by the fact the other knights are dressed differently from the first four I had met. They must be hand chosen by their king.

With that thought, I wonder what to expect upon meeting the legend that is King Arthur. I've heard many a tale of Uther Pendragon, his fear of magic making him feared by all who possess it. Anyone suspected of magic would have been killed, burnt to the steak without evidence. He was cruel, so I heard, yet nothing have I heard of Arthur.