The knights return to their perky attitudes and chatter on the road again. They probably feel more confident with their King insight. It could also be that they now know I'm a trickster.
They continue throwing their insults and jokes, Arthur even joining. This confuses me. I'm used to kings being more authoritative towards their men, maybe close with one or two, but not a group like this. Arthur blends in as though he is a knight, appearing a close friend with each of his men. Even the servant, Merlin, joins the games.
Merlin is slim and pale, yet he doesn't look unhealthy. He looks weak, not a fighter, but there's something about him that has my mind fixed. He has a presence about him putting me on edge–it's annoying me. He's a simple servant. How could he have an aura that's affecting me? I try to recall if I've ever crossed paths with him, but my mind has nothing to confirm, this only agitating me further.
Apart from that annoyance, the fork in my sleeve rubs against my flesh, proving an actual pain in the arse. I've reached out to adjust it many times, making sure no one is looking when I do. I can feel a mark begin to form on my wrist, making me curse at myself for not putting it in a better spot.
Eventually, we stop for a pitstop, allowing me to stretch my legs for a moment. I know this isn't my chance. I need to create some form of trust even now. Arthur has ordered I'm always watched by two knights, so another knight will take me down if I try anything. I'll have to choose my time carefully and wait for the weakest link.
Arthur and Leon discuss routes away from ears shot. Since observing my tendencies, they have taken precautions not to discuss plans before me. Gwaine and Elyan keep watch on me while Merlin tends to Percival's wound, putting a new bandage on it. I watch on curious, the cut not looking anywhere as bad as it did yesterday. While Merlin finishes up, Percival looks my way, almost as a way of reminding me I was the one who did it. I duck my head down behind Elyan's shoulder.
"We should get moving. Get as far as possible before we need to stop at nightfall," Arthur orders, he and Leon now amongst the group.
We're off on the road again. This journey seems to be taking forever as we shuffle along, my need for escape getting worse. I contain the edge, so I don't act irrationally, losing my one chance. It's not easy doing this, though. The men return to their conversation, of which I channel out. Tonight seems like my best bet of escape.
"What kind of thief steals a tavern sign?" Percival bursts into laughter, the others in hysterics. This sudden outburst catches my attention.
"Hey, that was a good night! Drinks on the house!" Gwaine defends, hand raised in protest. "I only stole the sign because...well, I couldn't tell you. I can't remember!" he now chuckles at his stupidity.
Between giggle fits, Merlin manages to state, "You stole the sign because drinks were on the house."
"Of course. No one in their right mind would steal a tavern sign," Elyan adds.
"I wonder if anyone could top that?" Percival states. With that one statement, it's as though I suddenly exist again. All eyes fall on me as if I'm the best person to answer Percival's question. Then I remember–I am the best person to ask.
"Go on, Edythe", Leon chuckles, nudging me with his elbow.
I liked it better when I was treated like I wasn't here.
My eyes glance over at Percival, a glint of annoyance in my eye that he's roped me into this conversation. I can tell he was simply trying to continue the conversation to tease Gwaine, not meaning to direct things to me. I'm not in the mood to fuel their amusement, not that I ever would be. Nor do I wish to confess to more crimes that I have committed before the King. He will surely tell my executioner any details to increase my sentence. Not that I'm sure one could top a death sentence...
I shrug. "Don't think I can beat a stolen tavern sign, sorry."
"You are such a downer", Gwaine groans, flicking my hair as he rides past. I glare at him as he does. "Have any of you noticed that?"
"And you're a pain in the arse. Have you ever noticed?" I throwback, swatting his hand away. The group burst into a fit of laughter, Gwaine pouting.
"So, tell me, Edythe", Arthur's voice booms from the head of the group, everyone quickly becomes quiet. "How does a woman such as yourself become a well-known thief?"
"A woman such as myself?" I repeat, my head tilting to the side.
"He means, how is a stunning beauty as yourself a notorious thief?" Gwaine chimes, Percival slapping him over the back of his head immediately after "Owe!" I roll my eyes.
"That's not what I meant", Arthur perks up, quickly defending himself. "I'm just curious."
The group falls silent again, waiting for me to respond with a long heartfelt story about how I became a criminal instead of some farmer or nobleman's wife. I remain silent myself, with no intention of pouring my life story to these men. When realising this is how it will be, Arthur speaks again.
"Surely you have something to say? Nothing you want to tell someone before...." he becomes distant, realising he may have added too much.
"I'm hung?" I finish for him. The king winces at my harsh tone. "Well. I've never been one for sappy stories. A death sentence isn't going to change my feelings on the matter."
"Come on", Gwaine perks up. "There has to be something."
"Gwaine-" Elyan begins to warn.
"And of all the people I could tell, why would it be you?" I question Gwaine, glaring at him.
"She has a point", Percival offers. Gwaine glares at Percival.
"Maybe it's not time for her to tell her story", Merlin starts, his voice smaller than the others but straightforward. "Gaius says a person will tell their story when they are ready because if they are to tell it, it is no longer theirs to hold onto. They have to let it go."
Leon grins. "Being a little sentimental, Merlin?"
"No. I just like the poetry," Merlin grins back.
A hint of relief and gratitude wash over me as Merlin converts the conversation away. I would have been just as curious as to the others in his position. But he has helped take the line of fire off me, and I'm grateful, but why did he do that? Nobody ever helps me, it's always been that way, of course apart from Iseldir, but that's a different story. This only adds more questions about what is up with this young man.
Luckily, the knights choose to leave me alone after this. They get lost in a story about this man, Gaius's many philosophies he told Merlin. Strangely enough, this Gaius sounds like a skilled physician and good friend to each of the men in this group. He sounds brilliant and logical, very in tune with the world. I would be more than eager to meet this gentleman in other circumstances. Alas, life has different plans for me. I don't think I'll find myself travelling through Camelot again anytime soon.
The group comes to a halt, the day escaping us, darkness falling across the green flora like a wave. The men get to work setting up camp, two still watching me, while the others scurry around the forest for firewood and other supplies. Leon feeds a rope through my shackles then ties the rope to a tree. It allows me a little room to move around, meaning sleep will again be in shortage. I might get my chance in the darkness of night to escape.
I watch on as Merlin gets a fire started, lowering myself to the ground to lean myself up against the tree. My legs are stiff from riding all day. My wrists are no better, now completely bruised and aching from the harsh metal around them. The fork under my sleeve calls to me, but I scroll myself for even thinking about it yet.
Arthur and Gwaine layout beds for each of the men while Elyan tends to the horses. Only Percival watches me now, but with Gwaine and Arthur a meter or so away, he's not too intimidated. This time he's watching closely, though.
The orange flames now are our only source of light, creating odd dancing silhouettes on the trees Out of habit, I'm on edge, keeping a lookout and jumping at any sound in the woods. I doubt much would want to come near the camp with the stench and racket of this lot.
Elyan sits to my right and Leon to my left, the others surrounding the fire perched on logs they dragged over. Merlin cooks whatever soup or stew he conjures over the fire in a large black pot. Once again, the men make small talk, seemingly having something to always talk about.
Merlin tends to Percival's shoulder once again, probably directed by Gaius to do so every few hours. While the two do that, Gwaine gets lost in a scary story or legend of the forest. Having nothing else to do, I listen. But that doesn't stop me from cringing at the childishness of the story.
"They say that an ancient wraith of magic lingers in this very forest. It is said to take the form of whatever one desires" Gwaine leans forward on a stick, emersed in his tale. "An army of men could witness the wraith at once, each seeing something different to the man beside them."
"It lures the men in before sucking the breath from their lungs, stealing their souls, taking them to Hades...forever."
Elyan shoves Gwaine's shoulder playfully. "And how much had you drunk when you heard that one?"
"I was sober", Gwaine pouts, pushing Elyan away. They both chuckle.
"Sounds like a children's tale", Arthur decides.
"A poorly retold children's tale", Percival chuckles. His amusement falls short as he cringes, Merlin rubbing something on his wound.
I catch Merlin's face in the light, concern written all over his face, but he doesn't say anything. I narrow my eyes on him, hoping that the dark deceives me.
"Alright then, let's hear you tell a better one!" Gwaine demands, jumping up to check on the brewing stew.
I breathe in some smell of the stew, not realising how hungry I am until now—my stomach grumbles at the thought. I haven't eaten for almost two days, not properly anyway.
"Um...Percival?" Merlin questions in a silent voice, "you haven't been feeling any pain during the day, have you?"
"Not really, only just before. It started burning slightly," Percival answers, creases appearing on his forehead in confusion.
Merlin nods but doesn't respond, his face now turning grim. He turns around, picks up his bag and begins ravishing through what I presume to be medicines.
"Is there something wrong, Merlin?" Arthur asks, now standing to join the servant and Knight.
"I-uh-I've been following Gaius' instructions just as he said", Merlin mumbles. "Yet somehow, something has-uh-gotten into the wound, and now...it's slightly-um-infected."
Percival remains calm despite Merlin's concern."You can fix it. I've seen you do it before."
"Yes...but it-uh...appears I, or Gaius, forgot to stock up on herbs for this type of infection", Merlin counters, rubbing his neck. He looks at the ground as if an answer will be somewhere for him to find.
"He'll be okay to make it to Olaf's Kingdom, right?" Arthur presses, the concern now lacing his voice.
"I have Rosemary, Saffron and Yarrow in my bag if any of those will be of help?" I offer, raising my voice over the group. Everyone turns to me, their eyes surprised, once again seemingly forgetting I exist. "If you brought it, of course," I add.
Leon nods, rushing over to the horses, retrieving what must be my brown leather bag. The tall knight runs back to Merlin with my bag in hand. Merlin takes the bag in his embrace, looking at the contents inside. He nods to himself as he remembers a remedy. Getting on his knees, he pulls out what he needs and gets back to work on Percival's shoulder.
"You know a thing or two about healing", Merlin states as he goes through my bag again.
Percival offers a soft smile. "Thank you, Edythe."
I nod, ducking my head down in embarrassment. I've done something to help him twice, and I don't know why. For some reason, I just want to help, and it's kind of annoys me that I'm being so weak.
The men become relaxed, getting comfortable, Gwaine switching with Leon by my side to get some rest. They all seem much quieter after the minor dispute with Percival. The only sound is the light crackle of the fire and Merlin dishing up dinner.
I prepare myself for the torture of having to watch them eat. I'm taken by surprise, leaning right up against the tree as Merlin reaches down to hand me a bowl. He nods, encouraging me to take it, which I do with caution, almost expecting him to yank it away, but he doesn't. I dig into the food straight away, my throat screaming in delight as I swallow the first spoon full.
"Where did you learn to heal, Edythe?" Merlin asks, disturbing the silence.
I peer up, my mouth still stuffed with food. He looks down at me with a curious expression, not an interrogating one. He appears as though he's not expecting an answer but still tries. Our eyes lock for a long moment as I finish chewing my food, Merlin giving a nod of encouragement. For some reason, I'm unable to deny him an answer. He seems so pure, the soul behind his blue eyes comforting and inviting. I notice other eyes now on the two of us.
"A close friend", I answer lowly. "He wanted me to know at least the basics...so I could look after myself."
"Childhood friend?"
"I suppose you could say that."
"I've learnt all my healing from Gaius", Merlin offers, answering a question I didn't ask. He takes a seat in front of me with his stew. The servant crosses his legs, making Merlin seem younger. "He says I'm his apprentice, but I'm not so sure."
"You're doing okay. I mean, you did find your way through my maze of a bag," I praise, feeling an encouraging smile pull at my lips. Something about Merlin makes me calm, relieving me of my troubles for a moment.
"Your close friend was a physician?" Arthur asks, disturbing the calming atmosphere that Merlin had created. My eyes dart to Arthur, my posture quickly becoming defensive. I had let my guard down too much. Arthur probably saw that and is taking advantage. I look over at Merlin, who gives another encouraging nod.
Still tense, I stir my food with the spoon. "No...but he has gained knowledge over time."
"So, he is a traveller?" Arthur presses, much more careful with what he asks than the last few times.
I return to my food. "Of sorts."
A wide grin takes Merlin's lips, lighting up his very being. "Let me guess. He happened to be travelling through your village when you met?"
"No..." I answer distantly.
I don't particularly enjoy talking about my past. There's too much I regret and too much I hold close to my heart. I wouldn't say I like allowing some the chance to have something over me. But something about Merlin draws the words. His presence encourages me to let down the tense walls.
"He's looked after me since I was a baby," I explain, fiddling with the bowl and spoon in my hand. "So, really, I travelled with him."
"You didn't have your parents?" Arthur asks, sympathy in his eye, but I don't buy it, now tense again.
"My parents", I snarl ", left me in the hands of strangers, making me someone else's problem-"
Saying that out loud strikes a nerve for me, making me cut off mid-sentence as if an arrow hit me. My head hangs low as I try to recover from the hurt I caused myself. It's soon replaced with anger for how weak I've allowed myself to be in this moment. I curse Merlin for being so easy to talk to.
"It doesn't matter now", I continue, discarding the bowl. I make myself comfortable against the tree. "Being angry doesn't change the fact that everything started going wrong from the moment I was born."
The camp is now silent as the dead. My harsh words of insult make the rest of the group sentimental. I wasn't trying to gain their sympathy. I was stating the uttermost truth. I've never belonged anywhere because of my parents abandoning me. Thanks to my ' gift ', I've never had the chance of a normal life. I've been doomed to a life of crime and death from the start.
"I don't think that's true", Arthur offers, breaking the eerie silence. "I think, because of so much going wrong for you, you haven't allowed yourself to let anyone in. You haven't given yourself a chance because you want to stop yourself from being hurt."
"So, you're a shrink now?" I snap. "Stop trying to dig and figure me out. It doesn't matter. I'm going to be executed tomorrow or the next. Let me die in peace, please!"
My sudden outburst takes everyone off guard, causing a dark shadow to fall over the camp. I need to get out of here as soon as they all fall asleep. I can't stay here any longer, these people are doing something to my head, and I don't like it. I don't even know why they are so intrigued by me. Anyone else would just hand me over, get the money and watch me die. Why does this lot have to be so sympathetic and curious?
No one says much, only exchanging a few good nights. I decide to wait till the early morning hours to try my escape. That'll be the point when there will be near to death sleeping men.
The fork in my sleeve sings to me now; my urge for escape is so strong. These past days have been so eventful that I'll need serious downtime if I can get it. I'll have to obtain a low profile for as long as I can, stay out of main towns and the five kingdoms' outlying borders. That'll mean dangerous territories, but not anything I can't handle.
My eyelids get heavy as I wait for my chance, fighting against me in protest as I try so hard to stay awake. Percival and Arthur, watching me, swap over with Elyan and Leon once again. I catch sight of Leon and Elyan taking a seat before the darkness of sleep takes me.
***
Snap!
I jolt awake, the heaviness of sleep still lingering over me. Still partially asleep, my mind is clouded. The faint light of morning approaches, shadows fading over the forest. The fire is out, the coals still orange with heat, bulks of smoke dancing into the air. I see the distant silhouette of a deer, its nose sniffing the air as it cautiously avoids the camp. For a moment, I'm confused about my whereabouts until I see the sleeping figures around me.
Something snaps into place in my brain, eyes now wide awake. I curse myself for falling asleep, napping well past when I should have woken.
I peer around. Gwaine and Merlin are now on watch. Well, they are supposed to be. Merlin sleeps peacefully on his side to my left, probably having fallen asleep hours ago. Gwaine is leant against the tree to my right, jaw slack, probably only just drifting into sleep.
The other figures are still, some light snores filling the air. Knowing they will all be awake soon, I turn to face the tree, slipping the fork out of my sleeve. I glance over the sleeping figures again before turning back to the shackles.
With all my strength, I bend a few of the points of the fork back, having to bite my lip as I almost groan in the effort. I glance again, the forest getting lighter.
I shove the bent end of the fork into the shackles. I try to be quiet as I shake the fork around, trying to dislodge the first shackle. I must stop myself from crying out in joy as the first shackle releases. I don't waste time getting to work on the second shackle. This one takes more effort as my hands begin to shake, the sun peaking the horizon. As soon as I hear the clink, I jump to my feet, not stopping to grab a sword or my bag as I sneak through the camp.
I step over the last sleeping figure, feet bracing to sprint, but a heavy mass hits me, sending me to the ground. I haven't noticed the figure stalking me in my rush of escape.
I shriek as I fight against the man, trying to pull myself onto my back whilst the heavy mass tries to grab hold of my arms. As I fall back onto my spine, Gwaine's face appears in my line of sight. He struggles against my hits, his knees holding me down as I fight against him.
I bring my knee up to his groin in my desperate state, causing the knight to hunch over. I take my opportunity, throwing a hard punch across Gwaine's face.
Gwaine falls off me in pain with a loud thud.
Throwing leaves and dirt everywhere, I hurry to my feet. The commotion of Gwaine and me have woken the knights from their slumber. I catch a glimpse of them rising from their beds as I bolt through the forest. I don't know what direction I'm going, but I don't care.
Swords are drawn behind me, orders echoing through the trees. Heavy footsteps soon follow behind me. I hear swords be drawn and the heavy footsteps of the men following me. Orders and shouts follow quickly after.
I trip and stumble as I force my tired legs to work again, the limbs seizing up from sudden movement. I curse, urging to go on, not to look back, not to be weak. To escape.
Twigs and leaves tangle in my hair, ripping pieces of my blonde hair out painfully. I don't look back. Even as my eyes sting with tears, I sprint on. My blood pulses through me, my heart also sprinting with me. I pay no mind to my loud breaths or the crashing of bushes and leaves beneath me. All I care about is freedom.
Sunlight fills the forest now, the knights hot on my trail. Bursting through the thick mass of flora, I almost think I've lost them, feeling the victory swell in my chest.
A dark figure emerges in the distance. Then another. They surround me, all closing in with swords in hand.
I come to an abrupt stop, almost sliding over when my brain registers what this means. Sweat pours off me, panic now sinking in. The crest glimmers in the sunlight, and I feel my heart sinks back into my stomach. Olaf's men...
The Knights of Camelot burst through the flora, seeing Olaf's men as they all surround me, swords pointed. One of Olaf's men walks forward–his sword pointed in my face. My knees buckle beneath me, and I fall to the ground.
The contact sends pain through my knees and thighs, but I don't pay any mind to it. My mind fogs over. I have lost. I won't avoid judgement today or any day to come. A scream builds in my throat, the pitch of it mimicking my frustration. The last bit of willpower leaves me as I curl into a deflated ball on the ground.