Merlyn's Only Hope

The Labyrinth of Gedref P2

He strode towards his newly polished sword, inspecting the shining blade for any hint of a smudge, before sheathing it, calmed by the reassuring feeling of his weapon beside him.

"Have you given any more thought to what Anhora said last night?" Merlyn's question came from nowhere, catching the prince off guard.

"Ah, well," Arthur paused, glancing at his servant. "He may have escaped last night, but at least now we know who we're looking for."

Merlyn stalked to the other side of the room, picking up some errant clothing and throwing them into a small pile, not commenting on Arthur's optimism. He took it as his chance to continue, hoping that she wasn't thinking what, deep down, he knew to be true.

"I told my father I will find this Anhora and put an end to it."

Merlyn bent down, picking up the matching boot to the one that the rat had torn through, and placed it on top of the laundry.

"What if he was telling the truth about the curse?" she pondered, refusing to meet Arthur's narrowed gaze.

"You think I'm responsible for bringing suffering upon my own people?" he asked, trying his best not to sound indignant.

"No, not deliberately." Merlyn ducked, dodging the empty goblet that had been aimed directly at her head.

"When you killed the unicorn, I saw Anhora in the forest." she finally looked down to where the prince was sitting, judging his reaction.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Arthur was genuinely astounded, unable to comprehend why his servant would keep something so important from him.

"It was just for a second and then he disappeared. I didn't, well, I thought I was seeing things. But he was definitely there." Merlyn spoke quickly, her eyes piercing through the prince, pleading for him to understand.

"That doesn't actually prove anything." Arthur chose to be skeptical, needing to believe that he didn't have anything to do with the curse on his people.

"Doesn't it make you think he might be telling the truth?" She sounded almost desperate, but Arthur ignored the gut wrenching feeling that he could be solely responsible for the famine.

"Because he was skulking around in the forest? It makes me trust him even less."

Merlyn looked like she wanted to hit him around the head with the chair she was leaning on, but refrained from such violence, instead, choosing to lower her voice, and speak with reluctant rationality. "Why would Anhora appear in Camelot and then lie to you?"

He shrugged, his stubbornness beating any shred of doubt he felt. "We had him cornered. He was trying to talk his was out of it by blaming me."

Merlyn obviously couldn't believe what she was hearing, not really a surprise, considering the fact that Arthur's excuses were getting weaker.
"Arthur, he can disappear into thin air. He didn't have to talk his way out of anything."

Arthur stood, choosing ignorance over any hope for his kingdom. "My father has warned me about sorcerers like him. They will not rest until our kingdom is destroyed."

For the second time in as many days, Merlyn looked ready to slap him in the face. He kept himself out of range, marking her tight grip on the chair that she leant on, violence trembling through her heart. Hence, he was startled when she replied softly, her voice barely audible, in the silent room.

"I believe he's telling the truth."

She was insistent, he'd give her that. It was the first time that the two of them had had a proper conversation about magic since Will's funeral, and it was clear to him that it was still a sore subject. He could not let this carry on, refused to let her think anything but what he felt. But he couldn't control her emotions, he couldn't control her thoughts, what she saw when she walked out onto the starving streets. He was angry, so angry at his lack of power, and he needed to lash out, if not physically, then he needed her to hurt just as much as he did.