Murdock Lied ▻ Merlin

T H R E E

When Murdock was a boy, and Joel but a toddler, Murdock was dared to jump into a patch of stinging nettles head-first. He had- his mother could never fathom why - and had paid the dear price, for his body had stung like a thousand needles were being pushed into it and red blotches covered his skin for hours afterwards.

That was what it felt like when the man slapped Murdock across the face. Hard. Murdock's head jerked to the side as he came back to his senses, the feelings of pain and numbness and tears pricking his eyes all too familiar, all too vivid. How long had the man been standing over him, blocking out the sun? He looked angry, and dangerously expectant, like he was waiting for something.

"I said... Why on earth would the Prince risk his dignity and precious knights to steal a single horse and some gold coins?" The man's lip twisted into a triumphant sneer. He knew the boy was guilty, but moreover he knew that his victim had no way of defending himself.

Murdock knew it too. He struggled to catch up with the conversation, all too late realising that his desperate shot at blaming the noble Prince and his men had failed. His heart thudded in his chest and he could feel the sweat clinging to his skin, trickling down his back like he was already bobbing down the river. His fingers curled into a fist, nails digging into his palm, tears burning his eyes as he fought to keep them from falling. Fear twisted his guts, churning his stomach in tense cramps. His silence was all the proof his tormentor needed.

The man stepped back, turning around so that he faced away from the boy on his knees - giving Murdock a mere moment to exhale and relax as best he could. The sun was still climbing into the sky and he stared at the clouds, blinking hard to banish the tears that swam in his eyes. At least now the knife had been removed from his throat - though the threat of death remained, pulsating in the air around him - and his head wasn't being held back by strong hands, forcing him to look at the endless blue sky and the birds that fluttered free. At least now the man wasn't breathing his rancid breath just inches away from Murdock's face, clogging his nose and every other sense.

He was going to die. No, he couldn't think like that. He had to find a way out.

Apart from the obvious leader, there were six more men - all equally as large and barbarous as the next - gathered around in an unruly semicircle staring down at him. The river behind. No way out.

"What's your name, boy?" The man asked suddenly as he turned around to face him, his face almost seeming curious beneath the scars and the bristles and the dirt.

Murdock considered lying, before realising that it probably didn't matter who he was. "Murdock." He answered warily, not meeting the man's eyes.

"Well, Murdock," he replied, sneering as the name left his lips, wrinkling his nose as though it tasted foul on his tongue, "I simply want to know why you did it. Why did you... attempt to steal my horse and gold?" He stepped closer again and crouched down, his squinted eyes bearing into Murdock's own, his scarred face twisted into one of sickening pretend genuineness.

"I-I wanted to ride it home. A-And then I wanted to sell it," Murdock admitted, pausing to breathe shakily and stare at the ground, "I wanted gold - enough gold to buy a house... and a field, all of... my own." He almost said 'our own', but knew that would only encourage further intrusive questioning. He just wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

The man nodded slowly, like he understood.

"And do you steal a lot?"

Murdock nodded hesitantly, not trusting his throat to form a word that wouldn't come out as a sob. The men behind chortled with laughter and nodded to one another like Murdock had cracked the wisest joke.

"Oh," the man frowned, "that's a shame... a genuine shame. I would have considered asking someone like you to join us." Murdock obviously looked surprised because the man repeated it.

"You're small and quiet on your feet. You know how to steal and you know how to be efficient with the time that you have. Alas," he sighed, "it's a shame that you had to let that horse be shot. A beauty, he was - so young too. Would have made a fine stallion."

Murdock's face darkened with guilt and the man laughed, as though pleased by it, in some disgusting way.

"Anyway," he stood up and waved his hand dismissively, smiling a smile that was more gap than tooth, "we've wasted enough time talking about you. What a waste of a fine day!" He indicated the skies above. "A fine day to be your last, I believe. Have we finished talking?" He asked, as though Murdock had any say in the matter.

Murdock found that he was shaking with fear and the unfairness of it all. He hadn't gotten the chance to say goodbye to Joel - what was the last thing they had said to each other? No, he couldn't think about that lest it was something bad tempered. Poor Joel, who would be searching the village right this minute for his brother who didn't return to the inn that night. Joel who would forever live with the burning questions of his brother's sudden - permanent - disappearance.

Two men stepped forward,- intending to haul their prisoner to his feet - but hesitated when the man raised his hand.

"I forgot to introduce myself," the man drawled and bowed mockingly, "my name is Kamdyn. It's a pleasure." And with a final, sweeping bow, Kamdyn indicated to the two men to commence.

a/n - I probably won't be updating this story as consistently from now on - I want to focus on writing and updating Heavy is the Head instead, for the most part <3