Merlin let out his breath. The boy had bought him a few moments. He pulled at the side of the tent again, but couldn’t make a space big enough to slip out. Necton yelled at Garth to get back to work and commenced untying the last set of laces holding the door flap closed. Remembering that the wooden bowl portion of the Sangraal had been completely invisible to Colvarth, he yanked at the gold circlet, but it refused to come off. Pulling furiously now, he bent it, wedging it from the bottom of the bowl. The tent door flapped wide. Merlin hid the bowl under his tunic, between his belt and his breeches. Then he quickly dropped the circlet back into the tin box. Necton roared, grabbed Merlin by his hood, yanked him to his feet, and slammed his fist into Merlin’s face. A crunching sound came from Merlin’s nose as pain jolted through his head. Crumpling to the ground, he tried to make sure the Sangraal stayed in his belt, but his arms buzzed and he could barely move them. Necton dragged him out and across the field by his hood, and threw him to the ground at Peredur’s bare feet.
