Swords & Spells (Book One):The Magic of Emrys

The Dark Woods (Arthur)

"Were you not interested in using horses, sire," said Gwaine. He smiled, even when Emrys turned to glare at him. "It was a simple question, dear. No need to get upset."

"I'm not upset," Emrys promised through tight teeth. "However, I'm surprised that you find it appropriate to make jokes at such a dire time as this. Your princess' life is at stake, and you..."

Arthur could no longer hear Emrys' rant over the rage of the winds. "Leave her alone, Gwaine. She's right—we'll need to take this seriously. The situation's much too serious for us to spend any time making jokes. Besides, if these winds are any indication, I think whoever this sorcerer is knows we're coming for him. We'll need complete focus from everyone."

Gwaine nodded and sobered immediately. "Yes, of course, sire. We'll scout ahead." Gwaine, Lancelot, Percival, and Tristan hurried forward until they disappeared into the dark woods, leaving the prince and serving girl behind.

Emrys crossed her arms over her chest and tucked some loose hair behind her ear as the winds began to die back down. Arthur wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he heard her mumble some gratitude. He turned to ask her to repeat herself, but was distracted by the sight of her apparel. "Emrys," he groaned. "What are you wearing?"

She looked down at herself. Obviously, she saw nothing wrong with her disgruntled trousers, loose slip, and leather slippers. "What do you mean? I told you I can't go on these adventures with you in a dress."

"Yes, and didn't I send Reuben out to get you some more...appropriate clothes?"

"We weren't able to finish shopping. What's wrong with these?"

"You look..."

"I look like what?"

"Like a peasant."

Emrys frowned as if she couldn't believe what he'd just said. "Well, sire, this might surprise you, but that's what I am."

"Yes, but you don't have to look like one. I mean, for God's sake, Emrys, you're part of the Royal Guard now. You'd better look like you're...well, part of the team."

"I didn't realize this was some sort of fashion parade. Forgive me for bringing my peasantry into this mix." She stopped suddenly at the edge of the dark woods.

Arthur glanced back at her. "Are you coming, Emrys?"

He could tell that she was frightened, even without her saying anything. No doubt she was battling fears brought from the rumors of the dark woods. The stories made him a little nervous, too, but he had to push through his fears with so much at stake if they failed.

"I think it was a mistake, me coming here," she whispered, her small voice barely audible with the growing sound of the mumblings of the dark woods.

"Hey," he said, drawing her eyes away from the forest. "That's not true. We need you for this, Emrys. You're the only one who knows what the plant looks like—without you, we can't save Morgana and Reuben. It was not a mistake, you being in Camelot. I see now that you're here for a reason. Without you, Camelot would suffer a great loss."

For a moment, he could've sworn she was about to cry. She glanced back at the trees and wiped at her eyes, pushing back any tears. With a sad smile, she said, "I should hope my purpose is not that great."

Still feeling the need to comfort her, Arthur reached out to put a hand on her shoulder as he helped her take the first step. "Don't worry. We'll find the licorice root and save Morgana and Reuben. Nothing bad is going to happen."

She sniffled and managed to smile. "You seem pretty sure, Pendragon. What makes you so confident nothing will happen?"

He shrugged, not truly knowing the answer himself. Seeing that she was unhappy with this, he decided on saying, "I just have a feeling."