Chap. 3

He told him through another man; a merchant passing through Camelot, stopped at the local inn for a rest and a drink—many drinks by the looks of things. He looked at Arthur though red, glazed eyes, a chicken leg clutched in his hand and a pint of ale in the other. He told him in four sentences. No, five.

Arthur didn't want to hear this, he already knew deep down what he had done, but it was too late. The words snuck through his desperately deaf ears and stabbed him in the heart. Then the man got to the next part, the worst part.

...but you, you will suffer a different famine, Arthur…

Arthur's mental shields shot up in the form of stubborn pride and he refused to believe what his ears were telling him. He nodded as though he was listening, as though he understood and the man continued speaking.

…your manservant and the Lady Morgana…they will suffer as well.

Arthur's walls closed and he began to shake his head no no no Merlin and Morgana hadn't done anything to deserve this, it was all his fault, all his own fault, why should they be punished?

...such is the curse of the protectors of the Unicorns…you have brought this on yourself.

And then the man collapsed on the table, his use for Anhora gone, the message delivered and not to be remembered later on by the messenger.

Arthur stood slowly and walked the to the steam-filled kitchen, where plates and cups and silverware were being cleaned in freshly boiled water. All he wanted was curl up near a steamy basin and hide until his clothes were matted with sweat and his face was pink and shining. Quickly he explained to the cook he needed to use the back door of the inn to leave, his brain and body in extra high alert making him oddly and unnecessarily paranoid as he thought over what the drunk merchant had unwittingly told him.

...but you, you will suffer a different famine, Arthur…

…your manservant and the Lady Morgana…they will suffer as well.

...such is the curse of the protectors of the Unicorns…you have brought this on yourself.

But when? Arthur struggled to recall if the man had specified a time of when the punishment he'd brought on himself and his friends would begin. Tonight? Tomorrow?

I have to tell them what's happened.

With that thought Arthur made his way back to the castle, and found himself again to be the bearer of bad news.