A/N: Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews guys - they're the only thing that motivates me to write ^-^

So thanks to: dddead, ruby890, Nija assasian, Nightmare-Naka, mIsS-vOlTuRi-PrInCeSs, MizzSY, Lady Asteri, and all of you who have favourited or added me to your alert! ^-^

Just so you're all aware, updates will be rather sporadic although I have no intention of leaving this fic - I'm entering a very coursework-heavy period at Sixth Form so my time for creative writing has been severely limited.

Chapter 2

Riding heavily in the general direction of the cry, he ultimately had to abandon his horse as the dense forest prevented him from continuing to ride on horseback. Tying her to a convenient tree and leaving her to graze, he forced his way through the undergrowth; cursing brambles and briars as they ripped at the skin on his hands and tangled in his tussled hair, he couldn't help but wonder what Merlin had been doing all the way over here anyways. Finally breaking through the tangled web of scrub, only by reflexively reaching out and grasping a nearby branch did he stop himself from tumbling into the cavernous hole that gaped in front of him.

The horse Merlin had been using was lying in a pathetic pile at the bottom of this apparent cliff face, neck obviously broken from the fall, cuts and abrasions littering the poor thing's body, no doubt from the barrage of rocks it had encountered on it's unfortunate fall. Glancing around frantically, Arthur attempted to spot his manservant and friend, allowing a few desperate seconds to pass before his eyes rested on the sorry sight.

Merlin was slumped to the one side of what was apparently some sort of cave; what Arthur now realised to be some gloomy cavern dropping steeply into the floor of the forest. Clambering down gracefully with the help of outcrops and the many vines (and other forms of plant life) grasping to the rock face, Arthur deftly jumped the last couple of metres before pulling himself upright to get a good look around. The floor was littered with general forest material, but amongst the debris he could see quite chillingly the bones of various small – and some not so small - mammals. He felt lead settle in his stomach as his eyes rested on a stripped and partially-shattered human skull; whatever inhabited this cave evidently wasn't adverse to including people in its diet. Well, even if he did get the hell out of this place, he'd have to gather the knights and some back; he couldn't be having with any creature eating the people of his kingdom. Absently, he tried to recall of there had been any reports of people vanishing in the vicinity.

It seemed far too silent, and this made Arthur uneasy as he trod carefully and began to walk over to his unconscious manservant, intent on checking for any particularly bad injuries. Even from a distance he could see the impressive gash across the top of his head, a cruel scarlet streak standing out against the paleness of his skin. Merlin was completely out cold, showing no sign of waking; worrying for Arthur, who knew from prior experience how severe head wounds could be. Even in the murk his pallor was shockingly apparent, almost illuminating his face in the murk of the cavernous hole.

The little bones crackled and crumbled beneath his boots.

As he made his way over he momentarily allowed his attention to lapse as he mentally chastised Merlin's uselessness. How was it that he always seemed to get himself into dangerous situations? It seemed like every week that something happened which resulted in him getting himself injured; whether it was his own clumsiness whilst out hunting or the far more severe situation of annoying a powerful sorcerer (which, now he thought about, seemed to happen on a far too regular basis – how was Merlin even still alive? Mind you, Merlin never seemed to be around when all the action was going about; Arthur usually found him in a corner somewhere or hiding under a table. So really, it was no surprise the coward always got out alive). He quite quickly got distracted by this new train of thought, and he briefly forgot where he was and the situation he was in before he recalled the numerous injuries Merlin always seemed to mysteriously acquire.

A mildly irritated scowl graced his features as the thought occurred.

There was another crunch but Arthur thought nothing of it. He realised far too late that he hadn't felt himself tread on anything that would warrant such a noise and spun around just in time to allow a flicker of horror pass over his face, before stumbling clumsily sideways in avoidance of a large beast that was quite determinedly attempting to butcher him. Scrambling to his feet hastily, he didn't have time to gape at what was presented to him before it bore down on him once again.

The beast leapt; a whirlwind of teeth and claws with the sole intention of ending his life in one bloody swipe. Barely avoiding one arcing claw, Arthur leapt backwards, dodging and parrying as he allowed his mind to catch up with rapidly progressing events. Swinging his sword in an opportunistic blow, the creature moved swiftly, lunging forward and ripping through his chain mail - gouging his clothing and leaving the layers underneath tattered. Lashing at him again, only a fortunate stumble backwards as he unbalanced on a small rock prevented the beast from shredding his flesh, wrenching through his ribcage and piercing his heart.

Breathing ragged and tortuous, and back now bruised from his rough fall to the hard ground, Arthur rolled frantically to avoid the onslaught and took refuge beneath an outcrop of rock jutting out of the cave wall. The light level was meagre at best, barring a single beam of light piercing though the murk and illuminating the dense gloom fractionally. The monster howled and began to scrabble, clawing underneath the outcrop in an attempt to execute the prey that was now out of its reach. Groaning to himself as torn and terrifyingly long barbed claws shredded the air only inches away from him, Arthur realised that his sword was out of reach; he could see a faint gleaming regardless to the fresh flecks of blood near the opening of the cavern, and there was no chance of him being able to reacquire it. Heart pounding within his chest, he realised with horror that the only way he'd be able to get out of this horrific situation alive would be if the creature gave up or got distracted.

In other words, he had no chance.

Exhausted and in shock, the severity of his predicament began to sink in. It was hopeless; there was no one else to help him get out of this situation and the beast was getting more and more frantic with every passing second. He was aching and sore and very soon his life would be over in a cruel and quick blow. Morosely, his mind wondered over to thoughts of Merlin, slumped and unconscious. He hadn't been able to save him; despite all of his bravado and bluster and general arrogance with regards to his sword skills, they were both going to die here in a cave in the middle of nowhere and he was absolutely helpless. A bitter guilt worked its way though his soul as he realised that he'd failed not only his manservant, but a good friend as well.

He hoped, nay prayed, that Merlin would remain unconscious. It would be far too cruel for him to see what was coming next. He allowed his posture to slump and closed his eyes in defeat...

A flash of gold flickered in the corner of his eye.

Sorcery!

The creature's onslaught ceased suddenly, a crashing silence falling upon the cavern as the last echoes of the fight faded into nothingness. Struggling from his sanctuary and onto his feet, Arthur went to grab his sword before wielding it protectively, frantically looking around in a vain attempt to locate the source of the magic that had been used so flauntingly in his presence. But, like a cemetery in the dead of night, all was silent; besides his own racking breath and the metallic rustling of his shredded chain mail, there was nothing.

Nothing besides Merlin, that is.

Bewildered, he couldn't help but gape; stunned and unable to comprehend. The beast had been thrown back violently by an invisible hand, smashing hard against the floor and lying there – immobile and apparently lifeless. Merlin was still seemingly dead to the world, but Arthur could not delude himself – the gold flash had come from his manservant's direction and there was no one else whom it could possibly be. He was a fool; he had been harbouring a sorcerer - a practitioner of magic and evil - for years without even realising. At once he could hear, see nor feeling nothing but the crashing realisation of betrayal.

But there wasn't time for that.

Pushing away all thoughts of evil and the crushing betrayal grasping his frantically beating heart, Arthur made his way over to Merlin, though not before impaling the stricken beast lest it suddenly acquire a new lease of life and return to the fray. As he crouched before the younger boy, it became apparent that the gash was the least of Merlin's injuries; a large wound that was either a bite or inflicted by claws was slowly seeping blood, disguised up until this point by the brown-red shirt Merlin had chosen to wear that day.

Without stopping to allow his thoughts to dwell on this revelation, Arthur hoisted his wounded 'friend' over his shoulder - noting his laboured breathing - and negotiated his way back into the blinding sunlight of the oddly peaceful forest; the juxtaposition of the violence in the cavern and this serene setting a stark contrast to his battered soul.

A/N - same drill as ever guys and gals - review and I'll give you a virtual cookeh :P