A/N: As promised

Enjoy!

Ilandrae

Disclaimer: I have already run out of creative ways to say I don't own Merlin. But I still don't.

CHAPTER 9 – A WARNING UNHEEDED

Darkling Woods

Four mounted riders galloped through the woods. Branches snapping and hooves thundering as two knights, a sorcerer and a girl raced to save a village in need. None spoke, none even attempted to make conversation. All were lost in confusion, worry or fear.

Merlin did not hear the thundering of the horse's hooves, nor did he feel the wind that caused the capes of the knights to billow, the wind that took away those few extra tears the little girl had shed. He did not see, or even notice, his companions or the mounted boy that rode a short time behind them, hoping to find the answers to the questions he'd been asking his whole life.

In Merlin's mind was nothing but anger and rage. He thought of nothing but the bandits that dared to threaten the place he had called home for the past four years. The bandits who had tasted his magic twice before, and who apparently had not learned.

As he had roamed all those years before he never really known what he was looking for. When he had ultimately decided to stop is wandering and settle so others could find him, he had gone to kingdom after kingdom. Visited village after village but none had seemed be the right place.

Having almost given up, he had decided to visit the cave which his father Balinor had once called home. But as he neared his destination, he saw smoke and screams of terror met his ears. Following them he rode into a small village that was under attack by bandits.

With no mercy the bandits were looting, pillaging and murdering, just as bandits tended to do he supposed. They did not discriminate between man and woman other than for their own pleasure, nor did they distinguish between adult and child. Seeing the destruction and horror that they were inflicting upon so many innocent people, Merlin needed no incantation.

Blood boiling his instinctive magic flared out, instantly killing those bandits nearest him as they were flung back, hitting the ground with sickening thuds. The rest turned their attention to him as he dismounted and drew his sword, seeking to teach them a lesson.

And though nearly twenty bandits still remained and rushed at him, none landed a blow. By the time Merlin had slain over half of those who had tried to best him, the rest realised that this was a fight they would not win.

The remaining bandits fled, leaving destruction in their wake. But one man stopped at the village boundary turning to stare back at Merlin. He was one of the largest men Merlin had ever seen, almost as tall as Percival, but Merlin could tell in an instant that he held none of the big knight's kindness. His grim and cruel expression, and piercing gaze held a promise. They would be back.

He had later been told by the villagers that the man was the leader of the bandits, a tyrant by the name of Denarag.

It seems the bandit group came every year just after the harvest, to steal, murder and take all they wanted from the village. Meaning every winter was hard and filled with deaths due to the limited supplies. The villagers were farmers, not fighters and King Lot sent no one to protect them.

Merlin had remained in Ameldry, as he found the village was called, helping them as he could. Eventually they came to trust him, even just a little. But every night as he went to bed in his father's old home, he had seen that bandit's cruel gaze, and remembered the promise it had held.

So he had stayed, longer than he had stayed anywhere since Camelot; and when the harvest came and went, he was ready.

He sent everyone from the village away so when the bandits came, they found no one except Merlin sitting in the village centre, his combat stave resting across his knees.

Denarag had stepped up to the warlock, who noticed his sword was so nicked and warped he wondered why Denarag even used it.

"You!" Denarag snarled his dark eyes glaring. "You're the sorcerer who was here last time!" He loomed over the seated Merlin, his muscled bulk casting a dim shadow.

Merlin stood, causing Denarag to back up a pace. "I am." He calmly stared the bandit down, noting the numerous cars that covered his body. They didn't impress him, you only get scars from not being smart or fast enough to get out of the way, he smirked as he reflected on the numerous scars on his body and how true that statement was.

"Laughing are you?" Denarag scowled. "You cost us a pretty penny last year sorcerer. It won't be happening again now would it?" His threat was accompanied by the sound of his men drawing their weapons. The bandit's numbers had swelled since the year before, now they numbered over fifty. But still Merlin was not worried, he was more than aware of what he himself was capable of.

"And if it is?" Merlin challenged.

Again Denarag scowled before calling aggressively to his men, "Fan out! Find the villagers, they won't have gone far"

"No one is going anywhere" Merlin said darkly and muttered a spell under his breath "Ende æledfýr"

A ring of fire formed surrounding the village centre and trapping the bandits inside… with Merlin.

"IDIOT!" Denarag laughed. "You just trapped yourself with us!"

Merlin gave a grim smile "How do you know you're not trapped in here with me?"

Denarag didn't even pause as he ordered his men to attack. His mistake.

Merlin drew his own sword, clearing his mind. But in those few seconds before his adversaries reached him, Merlin again looked at Denarag's sword. Merlin had a funny feeling about it, and something wasn't quite right. Merlin could sense that the blade radiated some subtle power of its own.

He narrowed his eyes and they flashed gold; the entire front line of fighters dropped their swords as the hilts burned white hot. All except for Denarag.

His blade did not drop as it did not heat. To be certain Merlin's eyes flared again all the bandits were flung back from the warlock.

All except for Denarag who smiled cunningly. Maybe this brute isn't as dumb as I thought? Merlin thought as he realised why Denarag continued to use such an old sword.

The heavy enchantment inlaid in it made the wielder impervious to any magic used against him. But still Merlin was not concerned.

He spun, slicing the bandit who had tried to sneak up behind him and running the next closest one through. Then he turned back to the bandit leader.

He and Deanarag hacked and banged at each other, neither seeming to cause serious damage. But the entire time Merlin was hindered, having to split his focus to ensure none of the other bandits interfered.

Sword in one hand, stave in the other he fought on two fronts. Even as he blocked a strike with his sword, fire balls flew from his stave. He countered another of Denarag's attacks and vines sprouted in a flash, binding his victims.

But still the bandits came.

However, soon Denarag realized his numbers were dwindling and the fire boundary prevented him or any of his men from leaving. Fury spread across his face and he attacked with new ferocity.

He was so absorbed in his anger he did not realize that no more bandits attacked Merlin. That they were all lying still on the ground.

Merlin's blade hit Denarag's with a clang and it spun up and over the wall of flames.

The bandit's hatred was clear in his gaze. "Why?" he spat at Merlin. "Why did you stay and protect them?"

"Because," Merlin said, "you are a selfish brute and no one should have to suffer the way you have made this town suffer" He had swung his sword for the blow that would end it when a scream rang through the town.

Merlin turned towards the familiar voice, his sword dropping. A cruel smile spread across Denarag's face. Merlin cursed as he realised not all the bandits had been inside his boundary. Because several stood on the other side of the flames, one of them with his sword to an eight-year-old girls throat. Mel's eyes were filled with fear.

"Well done Fender," the bandit leader said as he turned to Merlin, "remove the wall and let us go, or the girl dies"

Merlin grit his teeth and with a flash of gold the flames died. "Give her to me" Merlin said darkly, a glint in his eye that dared the bandits to double cross him.

Denarag gestured and the other bandit, Fender, released Mel who ran towards Merlin.

"I'm sorry Emrys!" she cried. "I wanted to see you fight them but then they found where I was hiding!"

"Shhh Shhhh" Merlin hushed her "It's ok, as long as your safe"

He looked up to see Denarag and his men retreating the distance. He magically amplified his voice and called after them "IF YOU EVER COME BACK AGAIN, I'LL BE WAITING! AND NEXT TIME YOU WON'T LEAVE WITH YOUR LIVES!" Denarag had not returned since.

Until now, and those bandits were going to pay dearly for not heeding his warning.

A/N:

Spells

Ende æledfýr: Boundary Flame

I use several online old-english dictionaries/translators when I use spells in my stories. But I'll try to make sure I always put what I've translated and what they hopefully actually mean in the A/N's. Again apologies for the [I don't even want to count how many weeks its been] since my last update but my new job has actually been super intense. Plus everything is burning.

Thanks

I ;)