“Merlin isn’t cruel,” Myfanwy was quick to come to her friend’s defence.
“Even so, he is the son of the Bull Slayer,” the High Druid said with a sideways glance at the boy enchanter. “What do you need us to do, Merlin?” He asked.
“Two nights from now,” Merlin gravely told the High Druid, “I will speak with Herne. You must make sure that there is no living being within three leagues of Druids’ Stones. Can you do that, Gwydion? I don’t want Herne to be distracted.”
Merlin was more than aware that keeping the decidedly unhinged Herne the Hunter’s attention for more than ten seconds would be difficult enough without the disruption of Herne believing that there was a living, breathing quarry nearby.
Gwydion turned to Dinas and Talen, “Can we do this for Merlin?” He asked them.
“Yes, we can,” Talen answered after glancing at Dinas to ensure that he had his colleague’s agreement.
“With yours and Myfanwy’s help,” he continued.
“You shall have it,” Gwydion replied to his fellow Druids knowing that he spoke for both himself and his daughter.
One thing was puzzling Myfanwy. “Why in two night’s time?” She asked the boy enchanter, “Why not tonight, Merlin?”
“Because in two days’ time it’s a full moon and Herne the Hunter can only summoned at the full moon,” Merlin explained. “It’s also the time when Herne is at his most unstable,” the boy enchanter added gravely.
“Be careful, Merlin,” Myfanwy told him. “You must be very, very careful,” she advised the boy enchanter.
“Don’t worry,” Merlin told her. “I fully intend to be.”
CHAPTER FIVE
THE GREAT STONES
AVALON
Galahad, Kraak and Grim stood at the centre of the Great Stones of Avalon.
They were all more than aware of the dark edged clouds that were rolling so ferociously down the distant hills of Avalon’s borders. It was plain to see that these storm clouds were constantly seeking any weakness in Avalon’s depleted defences.
Lightning crashed down in anger from the centre of the largest thunder cloud as it constantly found its way barred by the remnants of the Old Magic.
Even so the Forces of the Dark Lord would not give up but rather regrouped only to hurl themselves forward even more fervently at any frailty that they perceived in Avalon’s protection.
The attacks were becoming ever more frenzied and the rather strange group that stood amongst the Great Stones knew that it was only a matter of time before the Dark Magic found the opening that it so desperately sought. Then the Forces of the Dark Lord would pour into Avalon without check.
“When will Raven Boy return?” Grim asked the question that was at the forefront of all their minds.
“He didn’t say,” Galahad replied with his eyes still firmly fixed on the distant hills of Avalon. The boy warrior was more than aware that it was the destruction of the Altars of Mithras that had weakened Avalon’s defence. That had all but opened the country up for the Dark Lord and his Army of the Dead to march in unhindered.
Galahad was equally and painfully aware that this destruction had been by the express orders of King Uther Pendragon who people were now calling the Deathbringer king.
“I guess he’ll return when he’s spoken with Herne the Hunter,” Galahad continued while wishing for about the hundredth time that the boy enchanter was already back with them.
“Raven Boy will need to be careful,” Kraak confirmed what they were all thinking. “Herne is very dangerous.
“I think that Merlin is hoping that Herne will be very dangerous to the Dark Lord,” Galahad said trying to lighten their mood.
“The Raven Kind do not trust Herne the Hunter,” Kraak said knowing that, in this, he spoke for all the Mythical Beasts of Avalon.
Galahad came to an instant decision, “Kraak, we need to bring Draago, Firewing and Stormrider to Avalon now. We need all of the Old Magic if we are to confront the Dark Magic in this Final Battle. Can the Raven Kind find them?”
“The Raven Kind can and will,” the King of the Raven Kind told the fair-haired boy and there was a steely determination in the raven’s voice.
The huge raven, like all the Raven Kind, was quite prepared to fight and, if necessary, to die by the Raven Boy’s side.
“Then go now,” the boy warrior told his friend. “Merlin needs every bit of help that we can gather for him. The Old Magic must come once more to Avalon and fight by the side of Mithras’ son.”
“Kraak will do this,” the King of the Raven Kind replied. “Draago will be at Dragons’ Lair but the Griffin and the Unicorns will be harder to find.”
Galahad bowed his head in thanks. He had always known of Kraak’s total loyalty to the boy enchanter and here, if needed, was further proof of it.
“Thank you, Kraak.”
Without another word the raven stretched out his wings and drove powerfully for the skies. Galahad and Grim watched until the raven was only a black speck on the far distant horizon.
“Grim, will the ghouls fight for Avalon?” Galahad asked his two hundred year old and rather smelly friend.
The ghoul looked doubtful, “Grim does not know but Grim will fight for the Raven Boy.”
“I know that,” Galahad replied. “But we need all of the ghouls. If the Dark Lord defeats the Old Magic he will kill all of us. He will flood Camelot and the whole of Avalon with fire from the very Depths of Hell. The ghouls will be burnt out of Existence just like everyone and everything else. Can you persuade them of that?”
“Grim will try,” was all that Grim could promise.
“Thank you, Grim.”
Galahad knew that Grim would certainly try but what the outcome would be the boy warrior didn’t have the slightest idea. Galahad watched as the ghoul ran off in that rather strange loping style of his. The boy warrior guessed that it was not easy to run when you were a couple of hundred years old and bits of you were constantly liable to fall off at any given moment.
It seemed little enough to do for Camelot and Avalon but Galahad wasn’t sure how else to help his friend. He looked up at the dark, brooding clouds that seemed to be gathering ever closer to Avalon.
“It’s not much, Merlin,” he said. “But it’s the best that I can do. Let’s hope it’s enough.”
“Galahad.”
A deep voice spoke from behind the boy warrior and the boy spun around with his hand already on the hilt of his sword.
“Sir Lauriston du Lac.”
If Galahad was surprised to see the Knight Commander of Camelot’s Armies and King Uther Pendragon’s closest and most loyal friend he hid it well.
“What are you doing here, Galahad?” The burly red-headed knight’s demeanour was anything but friendly.
“Merlin’s business and that of Avalon,” Galahad bluntly told the Knight Commander.
“You know that both you and Merlin are banished from Avalon – on pain of death?” Galahad was only too aware of this edict that had been issued by Camelot’s violently unstable king.
If he or the boy enchanter were ever found in either Camelot or Avalon they were to be immediately killed. He also knew that it was totally unfair for all that he and Merlin had ever tried to do was to defend Avalon against the Forces of the Dark and the many other Evil Beings who wished it great harm.
“If Merlin leaves,” he bleakly told the big knight. “There will be no Avalon.”
Still Galahad kept his hand on the hilt of his sword but he did not draw it. The boy was well aware of Sir Lauriston du Lac’s unswerving loyalty to Camelot’s king and respected the big knight for it. Even so he was prepared to protect his own life, whatever the cost might be.
The Knight Commander’s gaze took in the fact that the fair-haired boy who stood in front of him was all but ready to draw his sword. There was something in the boy’s ice-blue eyes and well-muscled frame that told the big knight that Galahad certainly knew how to use a sword.
Sir
Lauriston du Lac switched his gaze away from the boy and, for a moment, looked up at the ever-changing storm clouds that were threatening Avalon’s borders.
“The Dark Lord?” The big knight knew that he needed to say no more.
“And many other terrible things that are coming this way,” Galahad confirmed.
“Where is Merlin?”
“I cannot say,” the boy warrior firmly told Camelot’s Knight Commander.
“Cannot – or will not?” Sir Lauriston’s eyes bore into the boy warrior but Galahad was never one to be intimidated.
“I don’t actually know where Merlin is,” Galahad replied while fully returning the big knight’s piercing stare.
“And if you did, you still wouldn’t tell me,” Sir Lauriston said his eyes never leaving the boy’s face.
“Something like that,” Galahad agreed.
For a moment Sir Lauriston’s gaze flickered away from the boy warrior as if seeing something that he should have noticed before.
“You know, Galahad,” he told the boy. “There is something strangely familiar about you.”
This was something that Galahad had certainly not expected to hear from the big knight. There seemed to be no reply that he could make. Instead the boy tightened his grip on his sword just in case it was a ploy to make him drop his guard – which was something that he never did. His battles with the mighty Achilles had taught him that much.
“The king has ordered that you, Merlin and Galapas be brought to Camelot to be put on trial for witchcraft.” The big knight was obviously not happy with the message that he had been ordered to put into effect. Even so his loyalty to Camelot’s king was, as it always had been, unswerving.
“King Uther Pendragon promised that Galapas would be left alone. The High Mage has done nothing wrong.”
The outrage could plainly be heard in the boy’s voice. As well as being Merlin’s guardian and protector in the early days of the boy enchanter’s life Galapas had long been Camelot’s most respected High Mage both in the time of King Uther Pendragon and that of his brother, King Ambrosius.
King Uther Pendragon had stripped Galapas of his position of High Mage purely to spite and hurt Merlin. However Camelot’s king had promised Galapas that he would be left unharmed and untroubled for the rest of his life. Galahad was not used to kings, or any man or women if it came to that, not keeping their promises.
To the boy warrior a promise was a sacred bond that must never be broken.
“The king has changed his mind,” seemed to be all that Sir Lauriston could answer.
“What you mean is that King Uther Pendragon has broken his word.” Galahad was never one to mince his words and he was outraged at the king’s treatment of a man who had been such a loyal servant to Camelot.
The warrior that was in Sir Lauriston du Lac noticed how the boy’s eyes had changed to a darker, icy blue and the big knight also dropped his hand onto the hilt of his sword.
“I have to serve my king,” he told the boy warrior.
“You are a knight, Sir Lauriston du Lac,” now the challenge could plainly be heard in Galahad’s voice. “Surely you cannot be obedient to an oath-breaker?”
For a moment the light of battle was also in the big knight’s eyes.
“I serve my king,” he told the fair-haired boy who stood belligerently in front of him. “Where do your loyalties lie, Galahad?”
“To Merlin and to Avalon,” the boy warrior bluntly replied.
“In that order?”
“Yes, in that order,” Galahad’s reply was unequivocal and very much as Sir Lauriston had expected it to be.
“I still have to take you back to Camelot,” the Knight Commander told the boy.
“Sir Lauriston,” Galahad said, “There is a battle coming that neither you nor Camelot’s armies can win. The Dark Lord is gathering the Dark Magic and the Army of the Dead to him. No mortal army can stand against either him or them. For all your bravery,” the boy warrior continued, “You, Avalon and eventually the whole of Britannia will be consumed in the Fire and Desolation of the Dark. Now please, Sir Lauriston, just leave. This is too important for Avalon’s survival. I have to wait here for Merlin.”
“The king has ordered that I bring you and Merlin back to Camelot,” the big knight bluntly told the boy while being fully aware that he was repeating himself. “I will not and cannot disobey my king.”
“And I will not go with you,” Galahad equally bluntly told Camelot’s Knight Commander.
“I don’t want to fight you, Galahad.”
“And I don’t want to fight you, Sir Lauriston du Lac,” the fair-haired boy replied. “But I will if I have to.”
“Then you give me no choice,” seemed to be all that Sir Lauriston could say.
The big knight reluctantly drew his sword, as did Galahad, and for a few moments they circled one another with neither of them wishing to make the first strike.
In truth the big knight did not like the task that King Uther Pendragon had set him. He was well aware that Galahad was only a boy of some twelve years or so and it felt wrong to Camelot’s Knight Commander that he should have to draw his sword against such a young boy.
Sir Lauriston was the first to attack but it was more of a feint than a true strike. The big knight was determined not to harm the boy who stood so defiantly before him. Galahad turned the thrust aside with almost too consummate ease and something started ringing warning bells in Sir Lauriston du Lac’s head.
The Knight Commander had everything in his favour. He was more than a head taller than Galahad and he also had the advantage in strength, reach and experience. Even so there had been something about the ease and confidence that the boy had turned the sword thrust aside that was very worrying.
The big knight waited for Galahad to counter-attack but the boy seemed content just to stay on the defensive. Whether this was from lack of confidence or skill Sir Lauriston did not know but he was aware that although the boy warrior had not launched an attack at him he was unable to drive the boy backwards.
Every cut and thrust was met with a rock solid defence and such was Galahad’s skill that he had not taken a single step away from the knight.
Camelot’s Knight Commander decided that the farce had gone on long enough. He had no desire to harm or wound the fair-haired boy who stood before him but he would not fail to obey his king’s direct command.
The big knight attacked with a number of savage overhand blows that had felled many adversaries on the battlefield. He rained down thunderous blows at the boy’s head and torso.
To his amazement they were met with the same solid defence and almost disdain that the boy had shown from the very start of the fight.
Sir Lauriston du Lac was now rapidly losing his temper but even so he was calm enough to notice that the boy’s eyes had taken on an even deeper shade of icy blue. He also had been aware that these eyes had been constantly fixed on the big knight’s own eyes for the whole of the battle.
Sir Lauriston would have expected this from a seasoned and experienced knight but certainly not from a young boy.
Still Galahad did not attack but remained purely on the defensive. It was almost as if he was toying with Camelot’s Knight Commander.
Sir Lauriston launched what he full intended to be the final attack. It was a move that had won him many tournaments and killed many hardened men on the field of Camelot’s battles. The knight feinted to his right and then drove hard at what should have been Galahad’s exposed left side.
Except that the ‘expected exposed left side’ simply wasn’t there. The boy had stepped easily aside so that the sword thrust passed harmlessly away him.
Sir Lauriston noticed that there was a slight smile on Galahad’s face. It was as if the boy had anticipated the move and had been more than ready for it.
The big knight was breathing heavily now and the sweat of his exertions was running freely down his face. It annoyed him to see that Galahad wasn’t even breathing hard.
“You fight well,” Sir Lauriston told the boy.
“Thank you,” was all that Galahad replied and once again the big knight was fully aware of the fact that the boy’s ice-blue eyes remained firmly fixed on his own.
Camelot’s Knight Commander was now realising just how embarrassing it was that he seemingly could not overcome a twelve year old boy.
With a mixture of anger and pure temper he launched a ferocious attack at Galahad’s head. Once again the big knight’s sword cut through empty air for the boy warrior had again just stepped aside and the blow fell harmlessly away.
Now it was a different Galahad that was facing Sir Lauriston du Lac as the boy warrior switched from defence to attack. The boy’s sword whirled at such a speed that it seemed impossible for the big knight to see where one blow ended and another started.
Sir Lauriston realised, with shock, that he had never met an opponent as skilled as the young boy who was advancing so confidently at him now.
To his amazement the big knight found that he was being driven back step by step as the fair-haired boy warrior came at him. Camelot’s Knight Commander was rapidly reaching exhaustion point by now but there was still enough pride in him to decide that he would rather die than admit defeat to the boy warrior.
However hard he tried it seemed impossible for the big knight to do anything but defend against the boy who now drove so strongly and confidently at him and who, to Sir Lauriston’s amazement, still seemed to be barely out of breath.
Sir Lauriston was also well aware that, as his own strength had drained away, there had been many opportunities for the boy warrior to either severely wound or even to kill him. Every time the boy had turned away his sword and held back from the killing blow.
“I did not expect – you to be so good,” the big knight admitted his breath now coming in short, rasping breaths.
“I come from a warrior family,” Galahad told Camelot’s Knight Commander, “And I had good tutors.”
“Who?” Was all Sir Lauriston had the breath to ask.
Merlin and the Land of Mists: Book Five: The Battle for Avalon Page 4