Chapter 17: 43AD Returning to Camelot

When Salvazsahar finally returned, Arthur was lying on his death bed.

"You're home, Sal!" Lancelot greeted Sal surprised. "Did you hear…? Are you back because of your father Arthur?"

"How is he?" Sal answered in return while shrugging of his travel cloak.

"Dying" Lancelot answered sincerely. "We have kept it from leaking to the public but we will not be able to keep quiet any longer. He will not survive another fortnight."

"Let me see him" Sal said.

"Of course" Lancelot answered and started to lead the way. "You're his son and heir. You have the right to see your father."

Sal was led to where later would be the Headmaster's office and climbed the stairs until he reached the top and the bedchamber of Arthur. It was still strange to enter in a room Sal knew and instead of seeing the expected office, stumbling over a bedchamber.

The bedchamber was richly decorated with gold and red. Sal turned out the Gryffindor-colors of the room and looked at the man in the huge bed in the center of the room.

Arthur was deadly pale.

Next to his bed was sitting Myrddin, also pale and definitely exhausted from sleepless nights. In the corner stood two other men, discussing things in soft voices.

"Atr" Sal greeted his father Myrddin. "How is Arthur?"

"Salvazsahar" he saw the delight in his father's eyes even if they were still mostly haunted and sad. "I am glad that you are home. Arthur will need you to take over his duties until…"

"Don't" Sal interrupted. "Don't say it. Let me look at him. I am here to try to heal him."

"Sal…"

"I am a Healer, atr. I have my oath. Let me take a look at him" Sal interrupted Myrddin before he could say another word. Myrddin looked at him astonished.

"A healer?" he asked. "But…"

"Guardian Healer" Sal corrected and understanding filled his father's eyes. "And now let me take a look."

Myrddin stepped aside and Sal sat down on the edge of the bed. He freed Arthur from his covers and the gauzes that covered his chest.

The wound beneath looked bad.

It was red and swollen and oozing pus - definitely infected with gangrene, maybe also blood poisoning.

Sal sighed and started to search his girdle for the potions and herbs needed. Then he looked at the room itself.

"The best would be to add a runic circle to the healing" he finally said. One of the men in the corner sneered.

"I don't think you have the experience to decide anything like that, lad!" he said while gritting his teeth.

Sal opened his mouth to retort but was beaten to it by Lancelot.

"Prince, Haraldr" he said coolly. "I will not tolerate disrespect against Arthur's son and heir."

The man, Haraldr turned to Lancelot and then stared at Sal again.

"Prince?!" he repeated. "He is King Arthur's…"

"Son and heir, yes" Lancelot said. "Next time think before you disrespect someone!"

"Sir Lancelot" Sal just stared at the older man. "As important etiquette is - that's not the time and place to discuss it."

"Of course, my Prince" Lancelot answered, slightly bowing to Sal. Sal just sighed. The older man had begun to act like that in front of foreigners since Sal had been adopted by Arthur.

So instead to try and stop Lancelot from behaving formal, he turned to Haraldr.

"You're a healer, I suspect?" he asked softly.

"I am, my Prince" the man answered. "We both are. We have tended to your father since he has been wounded. There is nothing that could rescue his life anymore. Please accept our judgement."

"I am a healer myself, Healer Haraldr" Sal answered. "These wounds might be grave and maybe beyond my healing abilities - but there is still a chance for my father to heal again. It's a bit of a risk but it cannot get worse then it actually is."

"You might be a healer, my Prince, but you are young. You have no experience…"

"The Great battle of the North Fields" Sal interrupted the man. The healer stared at him.

"Why are you stating a battle between our neightbour druid kingdom and the goblins which took place eight years ago, my Prince?" the healer asked confused.

"Do you know how many goblins died that day?"

The man snorted.

"Inexplicable few. They must have had a wonder healer as their lead-healer that day."

Sal smirked.

"The lead-healer was me" he said. Lancelot, Myrddin and both of the healers stared at him astonished. "So please don't tell me I do not have enough experience to judge, Healer Haraldr."

"But… but still…"

"I will try to heal him my way" Sal interrupted the stammered words of the second healer. "It cannot get worse. Why not trying my way? Afterall I have proven that I am able to do the nearly impossible - where is your prove, gentlemen?"

Both of the healers spluttered but then bowed their heads.

"As you wish, my Prince" Haraldr said. "But we will leave before. We do not want to be judged when the king dies."

Sal just shrugged.

"Then leave now" he answered absentmindedly. "I have other things to do. Sir Lancelot - I need apples, clean earth and rosemary. This should be able to strengthen my runic work."

"As you wish, my Prince" Lancelot answered and left the room to tell a servant to fetch what Sal wanted. The two healers also left the room behind him. Myrddin instead stayed.

"Are you sure, son?" he asked softly.

Sal inclined his head.

"It might go wrong - but I am quite sure that there is a high chance that I will be able to heal him."

Myrddin nodded and then asked "Should I leave the room?"

"Not needed. When you leave the corner of the bed it will be enough" Sal answered. In that moment Lancelot returned and Sal started with his runic circle. He saw his father's eyebrows rising when the circle started to take forms under the constant working of Sal's staff.

"I have never seen a circle like that before" Myrddin whispered, but Sal heard him nevertheless and shrugged.

"I thought it up when I saw how bad the wound is that Arthur maintained."

Myrddin stared at him in surprise.

"You thought it up? So that's nothing you have learned somewhere while you…"

"It's a combination of some circles I know" Sal answered. "It should aid me quite well."

And then he took out one of his knives and started to hack the apples until they were nothing more then mash. He added the rosemary and the earth and started to cover the outer line of his runic circle in it.

"A protection against the evil" Myrddin said, understanding in his voice. "A way to strengthen the runic circle against the infection in the wound. I would never have thought to do something like that."

Sal let his father ramble and activated instead the circle with some hisses in Parseltongue.

" Aid me in my task " he hissed. " Heal. Protect. Destroy what wants to destroy a life ."

The circle glowed and activated.

Then Sal turned to the wounded and unconscious Arthur and took the knife he had had used to prepare the apple and rosemary. He took the knife and opened the wound with it without cleansing it before. Apple and rosemary filled the wound and the magic of the circle reacted and hissed. Were apple and rosemary touched the wound, the gangrene started to leave it even faster than it would have without the magical cleansing.

But some parts were too deeply infected and the magical cleansing did not work on them. Sal gritted his teeth and then sliced them away with his knife. It was gruesome and took some time but finally the wound was clean, but bloody. The blood was flowing freely again and Sal knew that it would be deadly to let it flow.

And there was just one way to stop it.

"I am sorry, father" he said to Arthur, then took one of the potions and made Arthur swallow it. It was the Draught of Living Death - it guaranteed that Arthur would stay asleep for the whole ordeal.

Then he took his knife again. A flame erupted in his left hand and the knife was heated in it. When it finally was hot enough, Sal turned to Arthur and pressed the knife on the wound.

It hissed and stank when the flesh burned but the blood flow stopped.

"What… !" Lancelot asked with huge eyes.

"I needed to stop the blood flow" Sal answered. "The most effective way was to cauterize it."

Then he looked at the wound again. It looked better. Not healed fully but definitely better than before. Sal sighed and then added runes in Arthur's blood on Arthur's wrists, forehead and ankles. After that he crushed some herbs and added them on the wound before he added a few different runes in blood on Arthur's chest where beneath was beating the heart.

"What are you doing?" Lancelot asked whispering.

"Blood cleansing" Sal answered. "Not easy but Arthur's best chance to survive."

And with that he started chanting.

While he chanted, he used another potion to rub it on Arthur's bare chest. And finally, after a time that felt like eternity, dark mist began to rise from Arthur's chest. As soon as the dark mist came in contact with the circle, it vanished with a hiss.

When the last of the dark mist left Arthur's body, the body began to glow an eerie yellow light and Sal stopped chanting after the last of the mist vanished.

Sal trembled, he felt utterly exhausted and his body was covered in sweat. But he had not finished healing yet, so he returned to his task with the same iron will that had aided him in every other thing he had accomplished so far.

In that moment Sal wished he hadn't aged himself again so that he fit with the age he officially was on Arthur's court. Changing his age was a magically straining act - healing a wound like Arthur's afterwards was definitely not really easy. But Sal had to age himself. He would have been unable to explain how he had gotten younger again if he had turned up without aging himself beforehand.

Then Sal turned away from his thoughts and turned to Arthur's healing instead. He took another potion and started to rub it on wrists, forehead, ankles and chest - at the exact spots where the runes had been before.

After that he added another potion on the wound and finally covered it in gauze again. Then he made Arthur swallow some more potions before finally destroying the outer circle containing of the apple-rosemary-earth mash.

"Now we will have to wait how he will take this" Sal said tiredly and stood up swaying.

"You're exhausted" Myrddin said.

"I am" Sal answered, rubbing his eyes. "Would one of you stay with him? I want to know if his condition worsens."

"When it doesn't - when will he wake up?" Lancelot asked, looking at Sal as if he saw him the first time.

"In two or three weeks" Sal answered honestly. "The Draught of Living Death was enough to let him stay asleep for two weeks - but there is no guarantee that he will not take longer to wake up."

"When it takes so long to wake up from it - why giving it to him at all?" Myrddin asked.

Sal sighed.

"He needs to heal. When he would wake up and feel better he would want to stand up. He cannot. Also the agony of the healing I did would have driven the strongest man insane - I would not have risk this method without the draught."

Myrddin nodded thoughtfully.

"I will accompany you" he finally said. "I would worry that you did not make it to your chamber when I wouldn't. You're after all nearly asleep on your feet." And that he did. Sal made it to his bedchamber. He also made it to his bed - but he just fell down on it without changing out of his clothes and fell asleep before his head even met the pillow.

Myrddin sighed and carefully changed his son in some clothes that were more comfortable for sleeping. Then he bowed down and kissed the boy on his temple.

"You're a miracle, child" he whispered. "One day you will have an impact the whole druidic world. I am just sorry that I will never be able to see it." And with that he left his son and returned to Arthur's bedchamber. He was sure that the king would survive. Sal had proven that he would not let his second father die and Sal had the will to lead Arthur back to the land of living…

And he did. Arthur healed while Sal played his role and ruled over the people. And when Arthur was finally well enough, Sal returned the throne to his father.

"Well, I have my seat back - now I just need a new sword and everything is fine" Arthur joked when he sat down for the first time. Sal just shrugged, opened his girdle and freed the shed of his own sword from it.

"You can take that one" he said. "As my father you have the right to carry it if you want."

Arthur just stared at the sword, then he took it hesitatingly and drew it.

"A magnificent blade" he said softly. Sal shrugged.

"It was made for me by the goblins" he answered.

"Then I cannot take it" Arthur said. "It is yours to carry."

"I carried it for the last eight years" Sal said. "It's time that it sees the hands of a real swordsman."

"You are a real swordsman, son" Arthur said. Sal just snorted.

"I am a knife-fighter, father. I have never been a swordsman. I may know how to fight with a sword -but that does not make me a swordsman. I would stand no chance against you or Lancelot."

"You are young…"

"I am furthermost not good with a sword" Sal said softly. "I will never be as good as some others and you will have to accept that like I accepted it a long time ago."

Arthur just sighed.

"I know" he finally said. "But still…"

Sal just closed his second father's hand around the hilt. "Just take it" he said. "You're my father - you have the right to carry Exccaliebor."

"Excalibur - free from the stone?"

Sal snorted. "It's not Latin, father" he said.

"It sounds like Latin for 'Free from the stone'" Arthur said. "What do you mean with 'Excalibur'?"

"Exccaliebor, my sword" Sal corrected. Arthur stared at him for another minute, then he nodded and took it.

"Thank you, my son" he said softly. Sal just shrugged.

"You are my father. You are the king. You have the right for a good sword - and a goblin made is better than every other sword."

After that he left the Great Hall. Arthur instead took the sword and soon the legend of the sword from the stone - Excalibur - started to fester in the minds of the public. Later it would be an important part of Arthur's legend.

"Will you stay?" Myrddin had followed Sal after he had left the Great Hall.

Sal stopped. He did not turn but stared the way he had been heeding. He knew Myrddin was a very old man. He would not last much longer. Sal could see death lurking in the shadows, watching his father Myrddin.

"I will stay" he finally answered softly. "I would not leave you if you ask me to stay."

"You do not have to stay. I know you are searching for a way back home in the future" Myrddin said softly.

Sal turned and looked at his father.

"You're my father, atr" he told the old man. "I love you. I would never go searching for a way home when you need me. Don't forget: I have a life in both times - but you will not have me anymore when I return to where I came from."

This time the old man sighed.

"I do not want to stop you, Sal" he said.

"You don't" Sal answered. "I have time to go home. I will stay as long as you need me."

And with that said, Sal stayed.

He stayed at his fathers' sides when the kingdom had a time of peace and he stayed even then when war returned to them.

He stayed when sixty A.D. the Romans entered Britain and started to conquer not only the mundane but also the magical part of the island - not, that there was a great different between those two at that time…

He stayed, when Medrawd came to their father to demand his rightful place at Arthur's side and he also stayed when Arthur refused to acknowledge Medrawd as his son and heir.

"Why didn't you?" was the only thing Sal wanted to know after Medrawd had stormed out on them.

"Because he might be my son - but he definitely isn't my heir" Arthur answered softly.

"But…"

"You are my heir. You are my eldest son. Even if Medrawd would have inherit my magic - he still wouldn't have been my heir…"

"Would have…?"

"He hasn't" Arthur answered shrugging. "I saw it as soon as he started to demand his rightful place. He cares furthermost for himself - he does not care enough for others to have my magic. Of course, if he would have had it or if he wouldn't have demanded his place, I would have given him a place in my home. He is of my blood after all - even if I never married his mother."

"I don't think he understood why he was rejected" Sal said sincerely. He knew his brother. He knew that Medrawd would hold a grudge against Arthur for rejecting him.

"I told him I would welcome him when he stopped to demand things I am not obligated to give him" Arthur answered softly. "If he can't understand something like that, then he has no place in my court."

Not a moon circle later Medrawd returned with the Romans and the intent to destroy everything his father had built.

And while Sal accompanied the druids to defend the fleeing villagers and the village and castle they were hiding in, Arthur and Medrawd started to fight each other.

When Sal saw that they were losing he did the only thing he could. As the son of Arthur and Myrddin, the ward holders of Camelot, he also had access to the wards. So he reached for them and forced them to hide Camelot and the village near-by where the villagers were hiding in, hoping to survive and hoping to not being found by the Romans.

Sal felt his father Myrddin doing the same - aiding him in his quest to vanish the village that once would be called Hogsmeade and the castle from view.

It was a sword from behind that finally penetrated the armour Sal was wearing. He had been fighting for hours and hours. His magic had been weak because he still was protecting Camelot and the women, children and old people with it.

He was fighting a roman priest at that time - a roman druid. The roman was a battle mage and he definitely was the better fighter… especially because Sal could and would not let go of the protection that shielded Camelot from the sight of the invaders.

Sal had a hard time battling the priest. But he still was fighting well. He was a knife-fighter and the battle mage had problems to react in time for Sal's fast fingers. And maybe Sal would have succeeded in this fight - even if he was unable to do a lot of magic at that time, wouldn't have entered another sword the battle…

The sword that finally penetrated his armour and showed its cool steely blade to his eyes, sticking out of his chest, was from another priest who had entered the fight while Sal had dodged the curses of the other frantically.

Sal just stared at the steel that adorned his chest. Steel that was red with blood. His blood.

Then the steel vanished and Sal fell.

He could not breathe. He could not hear his heart beat anymore.

"My heart" he thought while the world darkened. "He pierced my heart…"

"Pathetic" a voice said in Latin with distaste, standing over him.

"Don't" another one said in the same language. "He has done nothing that would give you the right to disrespect him in death."

"He was pathetic! I could kill him with a single stroke with my sword!"

A hand softly caressed Sal's traditionally braided hair.

"He was a strong one. His magic is still filling the air. Whatever he was hiding from us - he succeeded in his quest. We will not find it even if we would return years after his death."

"But…"

"A sacrifice" the other one said softly. "He sacrificed himself for hiding whatever he wanted us not to find. He would have killed me and you if he wouldn't have tried to hide whatever it was…"

Something was pressed in Sal's unmoving hands.

"For a save journey, my foe" the soft voice said. "You have earned yourself this last rite. May your soul not be lost on its way home."

The darkness finally took him and his last ragged breath stilled. Then the conscious that was called Sal was no more…