A Herald of a New Age

Chapter eight. A mask

|an|
This chapter is going to be part of a two- parter. I suppose. I had one abominably large chapter planned and I just thought it would flow better split in half. I haven't cut it in half as of yet- this is going to be a chapter that writes -(and halves)- itself. Yes, I like to write most of the start A.n. Before I start the chapter, so we are all in the same boat.

an|

Merlin had been out at night again. Arthur knew it. He must have snuck out, to do God knew what.. Or, Arthur thought, rationalising, he was dealing with that weird bladder of his.

Arthur was fed up of having to keep the stories that his unsure mind spun up, at bay. I shall go insane. He thought.

They were riding due South through the forest having packed up early to follow Derec, and his now conscious son, Medan to where the Southern tribe was last seen. Arthur and Percival had been the ones to question the two Druids carefully that morning, after Merlin and Elyan had proved to know as little as they. The King and his Knight had made little more progress also.

Medan didn't speak all that much, he had obviously still been weak from the infection.. But then again, he seemed fine now Arthur looked at him..

Derec had told them that they had found themselves lost and alone when they returned from a trip, to find their camp wrecked and their fellow Druids slaughtered or taken away. Arthur had asked if there had been anyone else on the trip, the father had replied with:

"No, it was only us. We had a sacred task to carry out."

The man had faltered then, as if he had said too much. The more Arthur ran it over the more he was sure that there was more to the story. He did not doubt his abilities to read the body language of others, he had learnt it from his father from a very young age, that, if he was to succeed he not only needed to outsmart his opponents in battle, but also in politics. He had learnt that speech and body language went hand in hand and that a man who could balance both would make an unstoppable force. It was true, his father had proved so. Though Arthur hoped he never had to sentence a man to death and all the while keep up the facade that he knew exactly what he was doing. That he knew his decision would never be looked back upon. Because, Arthur thought, you always over think everything. Have you ever made a decision you didn't regret afterward? Immediately he regretted the thought, because it brought forth another, and another.

Gwen,

Merlin,

Arthurs heart ached. He couldn't handle anymore uncertainty. Within himself or within others, he just had to hope that with the southern tribe it would all finally come clean.

Merlin was quiet on the ride, but then, he always was these days. Elyan stuck close to him and though the two didn't actually speak they looked deep in conversation. The two Druids had to double up, as there were only so many horses- Derec was riding behind Elyan, and didn't look comfortable on a horse at all, whereas Medan looked a lot more as ease, sitting in front of Merlin.

Eventually these looks between them, disappeared and Elyan adjusted himself on his horse looking a lot happier than Arthur had seen him in days. Had he managed to come to a conclusion unlike Arthur?

Arthur watched his manservant and the boy as Merlin placed Medan's hands on his horses reigns and, reaching his arms round the child placed his own hands on top. He directed the child's hands as they wove through the denser part of the woodland and Arthur could see the child become more and more confident until Merlin was able to take his hands away and watch Medan from behind as he steered the horse and Merlin took control only of the stirrups as the boys feet didn't reach down far enough. There was a look of pure joy and admiration on Medan's face, where he had appeared so scared and distrustful that morning, Arthur was shocked at the change.