"There were only ten," Arthur laughed. "They were too busy defending their lives to do me much harm. Now, where is that drink you invited me here for?"
"It will take a while to prepare," Merlin said. He busied himself with a kettle and some jugs and powders.
Wilbur was turning a pale green from fright. He had to think of something. Suddenly he turned to Arthur.
"You won't like this drink," he whispered urgently. "It may even poison you!"
Arthur stared down at him. "Even so I needs must drink it. I have given my word. A promise may not be broken."
Merlin was coming toward them now and Wilbur saw that the old man held in his hand an instrument which looked like a surgeon's scalpel. He let out a shriek of terror and would have run had his legs not been paralyzed.
"What is this womanly fright?" Arthur asked, wrinkling his nose.
"I need his right eye to make the Elixir of Caution," Merlin explained. He laid a claw on Wilbur's shoulder and it was like the hand of doom.
"Yeeow!" Wilbur howled. He began to babble. "You lied to me! You said you'd make me brave! False pretenses!"
He stopped abruptly. Merlin's hand had fallen from his shoulder. There was a sudden silence that grew thick and ominous. Looking up fearfully, Wilbur saw that Arthur had fixed Merlin with a hostile glare.