Merlyn's Fate

The Last Dragonlord P3

Merlyn awoke the next morning to find a carved dragon standing proudly on the wet grass, the wood a little damp near its feet.

Smiling vaguely, she rubbed sleep out of her eyes, blinking slowly as she looked around the clearing. Arthur was still sleeping, but Balinor was already awake, sharpening a sword she didn't recognise, probably his own, clearly lost in his own thoughts. She stood up, stretching tiredly, attracting her father's attention.

There were no good mornings, he'd never really made time for them when he'd lived with in Ealdor either. Instead, he tossed her sword at her watching the way that she caught it, his lips twitching upwards. Merlyn moved away from the Prince, closer to her father, her blade raised.

"Let's see what you've got." he said, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. The witch stood straighter, determined to prove herself to the man who'd once been a true Knight of Camelot.

Nodding once, she was surprised that it was her father who iniciated the first attack, feinting left before stabbing at her right side. Luckily, she caught on just in time, parrying the blow, using her left hand to push him back, forcing him to stumble a little. Merlyn let him recover before aiming for his side, unsurprised when he blocked her move, twisting his arm in an attempt to disarm her. Instead, she threw her weapon up into the air, catching it with her left hand in order to parry his next blow.

"You've improved." Balinor remarked, strangely carefree as he dodged Merlyn's blade, kicking at her in an underhanded attempt to knock her off of her feet.

"I've had a good tutor." the witch's gaze lingered on the sleeping Prince, smiling gently to herself as she ducked a swing aimed at her head. She couldn't tell what her father thought of this, but his strikes suddenly became much more powerful; she had to keep both hands on her sword to stop herself from dropping it.

They exchanged blows for a while, both of them very out of breath. But as Merlyn raised her blade for one more slash, her father kicked her legs out from under her, tapping the tip of his sword on her chest plate, signifying her defeat.

"I'll beat you one day." she muttered, brushing a little mud off of her clothes.

Balinor smirked. "I'm sure you will."

Just as Merlyn was about to reply, she felt a presence come up behind her. Before she could turn, she felt a hand wrap around her mouth, an arm circling her waist, pulling her into a very toned body.

"Cenred's men." Arthur hissed in her ear, just in time for her to stop herself from plunging a dagger into his gut.

Merlyn nodded, causing the Prince to release her just as Cenred's soldiers ran at them, screaming battlecries at the top of their lungs.

Evidently subtlety wasn't their strong suit.

The first three charged at Arthur, who took them down without any trouble, so the servant could concentrate on the four men heading towards her. She disarmed the first one, plunging a dagger into the next, and kicked the third one back. Parrying a blow from the fourth, she pulled her knife from the dead man, throwing it at the third. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her father hacking his way through three soldiers, Arthur almost finished with his attackers.

The first man had recovered his sword by this point, so Merlyn turned to face him, fierce determination running through her eyes. With a few short swings of her sword, the man was on the ground, just as dead as his friends.

But she'd made a mistake. She'd forgotten about the fourth.

Behind her, she heard a cry of pain. As she turned, Balinor fell into her arms, the fourth soldier pulling his sword from the Dragonlord's gut.