The Call of Destiny

Chapter 2: Destiny's Puppet

Merlin carried her as fast as his legs could go. His muscles quivered with the strain as he fought his own exhaustion. All that magic this morning on an empty stomach. He tried to remember which direction Havenswood was. South maybe? Times like this made him wish he knew how to teleport. Though if he had known that, Arthur would still be alive.

I can't think about that now. He needed to push past the grief for the moment and concentrate on the matter at hand: getting Della home. He'd been damned if he saw another person die in arms in two days' time.

He couldn't stop thinking about her addressing him as Merlin. She knew him, but from where? He didn't recall meeting her over the years. For now, his questions would have to wait.

The smell of fire drifted on the wind and he knew he was heading in the right direction. Maybe just a quarter mile more....

The edge of the woods gave way to a clearing, with a scattering of thatched roof houses. It reminded him of Ealdor and there was a brief comfort in that.

She'd said the first house in the clearing was hers. Thankfully it wasn't far from the edge of the woods. A handful of villagers were milling about a bit further on and he avoided eye contact as best he could. Best not to draw too much attention, what with being a stranger carrying an injured woman.

He kicked the door with his weathered boot, hoping someone was inside. "Hello? Please open up. It's urgent!" The wooden door cracked open and a middle-aged woman with a round, full face appeared. She squinted at him, probably trying to figure out who this stranger was with an unconscious woman in his arms. Not a moment later, shock registered on her face once she realized who he was carrying.

"Oh no!" She beckoned him in. "Hurry, be quick!"

No need to tell him twice. He walked in sideways, making sure to keep Della from hitting either edge of the door. His head grazed the top of the short doorway. The woman closed the door quickly behind him and it took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness of the cottage.

It was small—tiny really—and a bit claustrophobic. "Over here," the woman directed him to the left wall with a small bed. He placed Della down gently, his arms shaking with the strain. She was incredibly pale. Worry laced through him then, and he suddenly doubted if he had managed to heal her well enough to survive.

The woman came behind him and edged in front of him, quickly assessing her. "What happened to her?"

"She was attacked by Saxons. I managed to...scare them off."

She looked at him incredulously, her brown eyes full of doubt. "You did more than that, I wager."

"Umm...."

"I know you are Emrys, so don't bother hiding it from me. My name is Ealhwyn and I am Della's aunt."

"Ah." Of course. If Della was a Druid, it would only make sense her aunt was as well. The Druids' uncanny ability of recognizing him was always unnerving.

Ealhwyn gathered a variety of vials and containers on a shelf. She moved towards Della again. "If you don't mind, I need to examine my niece."

"Er...yes, of course." He turned his back towards her, trying to decide what he should do. "Will she be all right? I healed her as best as I could with what energy I had left. She tried to do it on her own but—"

"That's Della for you," Ealhwyn said. She was quiet for a moment and he stood there, his back still towards them. "It looks like the top rib punctured her lung. If you hadn't healed her when you did, her lung would've filled with blood. You saved her life."