Merlin and the Land of Mists: Book Five: The Battle for Avalon

by P. J. Cormack

  “And a proud day for me,” Merlin said. “Whatever the outcome.”

  It was Galahad who spoke across them for his eyes had seen what they had all feared that they might see.

  The Forces of the Dark had broken through Avalon’s boundaries and were now pouring down the hills and mountains of Avalon in a great onslaught of Evil.

  “Look, the Dark is Gathering.”

  The boy warrior said while drawing his sword and seeing, with some satisfaction that Sir Lauriston du Lac also had his sword drawn. The big knight was obviously quite determined to fight alongside the Raven Boy.

  Camelot’s Knight Commander had promised that he would fight or, if needs be, die alongside Merlin and the Mythical Beasts of the Old Magic. He had no intention of breaking his word.

  “For the last and final time,” Merlin said in a hard voice that sounded more like his great father than his own. “Today shall be decided the Fate of Camelot, Avalon and All of Mankind.”

  Above the Great Stones of Avalon the Unicorn Herd moved into battle lines and were joined on all sides by the Host of the Raven Kind.

  Draago and Firewing immediately took to the air. The dragon blew great swathes of fire into the sky to warn the Forces of the Dark just what it was to face and challenge the Old Magic and the Mythical Beasts of Avalon.

  Down below Merlin stood with Galahad, Galapas, Sir Lauriston du Lac, Kraak and Grim as the dark shapes of the Dark Lord’s Dark Forces swept towards them in what looked to be a never ending Tide of Evil that wanted only to smash and destroy, to burn and to kill.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CAMELOT

  The four horseman were unrelenting as they rode backwards and forwards over the skies of Camelot.

  Fire flew from them, raining down onto the already burning houses and streets of King Uther Pendragon’s capital.

  Wherever the fire and brimstone struck there were instant, leaping infernos. It seemed to be impossible to dowse the flames whether they be on houses, livestock or men.

  This was the Fire of the Dark and it did not burn as an ordinary fire. It carried with it the Dark Magic of the Dark Lord and its purpose was to destroy and harm all that might stand in its way and it would not be denied.

  Equally unnerving to the inhabitants of Camelot was the strange high-pitched ‘chittering’ sounds that came from the four Riders of the Dark. It was an alien keening that could come from no human throat but then these horseman were not human.

  Once they had been so, but the Evil and the Dark had entered into them long ago so that no trace of humanity lay there for such it is with all who become the servants of the Dark Magic.

  Camelot’s knights and inhabitants were everywhere trying in desperation to dowse the flames that threatened to destroy the whole of their city but it was a hopeless task.

  Even so they could not stand by and see Camelot being burnt out of existence. They were determined to stand against these Forces of the Dark Lord and defend their king and their land to the very last breath.

  Now the Storm Clouds of the Dark had also crossed the boundaries of Avalon and hung ominously in Camelot’s skies.

  Dark shapes could be seen moving high over Avalon as the clouds rolled and thundered across the land that they had coveted for so long. Lightning flashed down to join the Inferno of the Dark and add yet more death and heartbreak to the men, women and children of Camelot.

  By now the flames and smoke that threatened to engulf Camelot and to raze it to the ground could be seen many leagues away. It was a sight such as no man had seen before.

  Over and above this rode the Four Riders of the Dark, the Pale Riders. They relished every death, every destruction and every pain of the good men and women of Camelot who they sought to burn from the very Face of the Earth in the Name of their Master, the Dark Lord.

  And he, the Great Lord of the Dark Magic, stood again before the Gates of the Underworld where his Army of the Dead had been imprisoned for Time beyond Time.

  He could see that the Iron Gates that had held back his devils and demons for so long were now warping and bending and, very soon, they would give way completely.

  This was what the Dark Lord had anticipated for all his existence.

  In fact since he had turned away from the Light to be the Master of the Dark and it felt very good. For the second time the Dark Lord put back his head and howled loud and long and with a great satisfaction.

  His Kingdom of Hell was coming to the World of Men and it filled the Dark Lord with a deep and brutal joy.

  This was the Time of Hell on Earth and it would not last for a mere thousand years but for All of Time.

  The Dark Lord knew that he would make absolutely certain of that and once more he howled his defiance and joy at what he saw.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE GREAT STONES

  AVALON

  It seemed to Merlin that the world had gone mad.

  The storm clouds of the Dark Magic were rolling across the skies of Avalon. The Four Horsemen of the Dark, the Dark Riders of the Dark Lord were galloping across Camelot’s skies and were killing and burning everything that they could see and which sought to escape their all-consuming fire.

  On the far edge of the boundaries of Avalon the sky was now the deepest crimson red as if it too was consumed by Fire of the Dark Magic.

  In the distance Merlin could hear that strange high-pitched chittering sound that came from the Riders of the Dark.

  To this was added the battle cry of thousands upon thousands of throats that had not spoken for millennias. This was the Dark Lord’s Army of the Dead which the boy enchanter knew was, even now, battering down the very Gates of the Underworld, the Gates of Hell.

  These twisted souls were desperate to escape the Eternal Confinement and Imprisonment to which they had been sentenced. They knew that they would not be denied for this was the Time of the Dark Lord and his Dark Magic.

  Would the Gates of the Underworld hold them?

  Merlin didn’t know the answer to that but he did know one thing. If his great father, the Elder god Mithras Invictus had remained in Avalon no Power on Earth, or even in Hell, would have dared to reach out to the land that the Bull Slayer had called his own.

  Whether his son had enough Power to keep Avalon safe was something that Merlin guessed that they were all about to find out.

  He knew that if the idiot that was King Uther Pendragon had maintained Mithras’ altars there would still have been sufficient Protection from the Forces of the Old Magic to hold back even the Dark Lord.

  Merlin knew that he couldn’t change the Past and what had been was written there was for All of Time, but the boy enchanter was determined to safeguard the Future.

  He was quite prepared to lay down his life in the defence of the land and people that he loved. If he had to die trying to protect Avalon from the Dark Magic then that was exactly what he would do.

  Now the Storm of the Dark hung over the Great Stones of Avalon themselves. Lightning strikes flashed down and thunder crashed overhead with such a force that it shook the very ground that Merlin was stood on.

  The boy saw, with some relief, that for all its strength at this its Greatest Gathering the Dark Magic still could not break its way past the Great Stones for they too held Power and it was the Old Magic that they served and it would always be so.

  There was a chance that they could win this, Merlin was certain of that. He also knew that he would be the main target for the Forces of the Dark.

  Without him there would be very little to prevent the Fires of Hell rolling across the gentle streams and meadows of Avalon before going on to destroy the rest of the World and All of Humanity.

  Even in the face of so much evil Merlin saw with a great pride that the Forces of the Old Magic had lined up in an unflinching line of battle. Not one of them, not even Grim, had sought to run away from the Squadrons of Malevolence that were confronting them.

  The Raven Kind were there in their many hundreds of thousand
s even though they were constantly being battered forwards and backwards by the whirling Tornado Columns of the Dark.

  Stormrider’s great Herd of Unicorns too hovered over and around the Great Stones giving Merlin what protection they could.

  The boy enchanter knew that they were all just waiting for the word from the huge golden unicorn, who was their leader.

  On Stormrider’s word they would fly to battle all and every Force of the Dark that was now threatening the land and world that they loved and had always loved so much.

  With a sideways glance Merlin saw that both Galahad and Sir Lauriston stood with their swords drawn and were quite obviously prepared to stand and die at his side.

  For a moment the boy enchanter noticed a strange similarity between the huge knight who was Knight Commander of Camelot and the slim boy warrior who stood by his side. There was the same steely look in their eyes and even an almost mimicking in the tilt of their heads and hunched shoulders.

  Merlin felt eyes on him and turned to see the giant figure of Firewing that stood almost protectively by his side. The griffin was obviously waiting for something and the boy enchanter knew exactly what it was that this Mythical Beast of Avalon, that was half eagle and half lion, was seeking from him.

  With a slight nod of his head to pass his thanks for the loyalty of the griffin Merlin put back his head and yelled in a voice that cut through even the thunderous Chaos of the Dark Magic that was breaking all around him.

  “THE OLD MAGIC TO ME.”

  The answer was instantaneous for both Firewing and Draago took off with an enormous force from alongside the boy.

  Huge swathes of fire poured from the dragon’s mouth to scorch and tear into the thunderclouds of the Dark Magic that now rolled over the Great Stones.

  Even as the dragon and griffin seared into the Dark so did Stormrider release his unicorns and these were not the pretty animals of fairy tales. These were battle-hardened Defenders of the Light who had a horn that was sharper than any sword protruding from their forehead.

  Merlin knew that the unicorns would use these horns and their powerful legs and hardened hooves to destroy any vestige of the Dark Magic that was foolish enough to stand against them.

  The boy saw with satisfaction and pride that the Raven Kind were now joining with the unicorns and hurtling down from a great height to tear into the Dark Magic.

  He also saw, with a sinking of his heart, the thousands and ever more thousands of the Forces of Evil that were now rolling like an unstoppable tide down the hills and across the meadows of Avalon.

  The Dark Magic was travelling at enormous speed towards the Great Stones of Avalon where the boy enchanter stood with his friends.

  The Forces of the Dark were truly without number. Too great for Merlin even to guess at how many of these dark, contorted beings were pouring out of Hell and onto the land that he loved so much.

  Almost in a daze the boy saw that Galapas stood bravely by his side with the wind whipping and tugging at his cloak and clothes.

  Merlin realised that his great friend and guardian was, as he had promised, fully prepared to die alongside him and this understanding brought a lump to the boy’s throat. He knew that he owed the Mage so much more than for him to be killed in this conflict.

  “Merlin, watch out.”

  Galahad’s frantic shout brought the boy crashing back from his thoughts. Merlin saw immediately what it was that had startled the boy warrior and had made him fear for his friend’s life.

  Two enormous almost Neolithic beings had appeared inside the Circle of the Great Stones.

  Whether these ‘beings’ were even human Merlin didn’t have the slightest idea. They stood half as tall again as an ordinary man, even a knight as large as Sir Lauriston du Lac. Their skin seemed to be more leather than skin and they stared, or rather glowered, out at the world through tiny red pig-like eyes.

  They were two of the most evil-looking creatures that Merlin had ever seen. There was also no doubt who their intended target was to be for they lumbered forward, looking as huge as mountains, seeking their quarry, the boy enchanter.

  Quickly Merlin’s brain searched for a spell that would kill these towering monstrosities. Before he could speak Galahad had planted himself firmly between these monstrous Beings of the Dark and the boy enchanter.

  The boy warrior stood balanced and ever-ready with his sword held lightly in his right hand. Merlin saw that the boy also had a long and very wicked looking dagger grasped in his other hand. Galahad only carried a shield whenever it was absolutely vital for he preferred to rely on his speed and lightness of foot to strike and then pull away from his opponents.

  Merlin knew that if he was to die this early in the battle to save Avalon there would be very little to hold back the Dark Lord and his rapidly advancing army.

  Even so he stood firm in this Thunderstorm of the Dark Magic that beat against him with such fury and turned to face these Monstrous Creations of the Dark.

  “Don’t worry, Merlin,” Galahad shouted over the noise of the storm and wind that now beat hard down on the Great Stones. “Don’t worry,” the boy warrior repeated, “I’ve got them.”

  “Not on your own you don’t.”

  Sir Lauriston du Lac’s deep voice rumbled across the cacophony as the big knight stepped forward to stand firmly alongside Galahad.

  Once again Merlin was struck by the similarity between the Knight Commander of Camelot and the very much smaller fair-haired boy warrior who stood alongside him.

  Merlin saw that Sir Lauriston too had discarded his shield and was warily watching the lumbering approach of the two Beings of the Dark.

  The two Dark Warriors struck with a surprising speed given their size and Merlin could see why Galahad and Sir Lauriston had put down their shields.

  So powerful were the blows of their attackers that to have stood against them with shields would have been to invite an inevitable and bloody death. These Creatures of the Dark carried such huge strength with them that they would have shattered any shield with a single blow and probably killed any man – or boy that was behind it.

  Merlin could see another reason why Galahad and Sir Lauriston had preferred to fight with only dagger and sword.

  Every time the Dark Warriors swung their bone shattering blows with their big clubs the boy warrior and the big knight moved swiftly out of the way letting the blows pass harmlessly past them.

  Worryingly Merlin could see that these huge Dark Beings showed no sign of tiring. The Creatures had been brought into existence and given life by the Dark Lord himself and had somehow been imbued with all the Power and Endurance of the Dark Magic.

  As long as this Power lasted they could not and would not tire.

  The same thought had crossed Galahad’s mind. For all his skill and stamina the boy warrior was aware that his own strength was not unlimited. He knew that he and Sir Lauriston needed to win this fight as quickly as was humanly possible against such brutal and fearsome opponents.

  Galahad switched from defence to attack and stepped inside the clumsy, swinging blows of his enemy. Feinting left with his sword Galahad drove his dagger hard and deep into the Dark Warrior’s arm.

  Such was the thickness of the hide that covered the Creature of the Dark that Galahad at first thought that the dagger’s blade would break. It did not and the boy warrior twisted the weapon so that it opened up a long gash along the Creature’s upper arm.

  Blood oozed from the wound but it was like no blood that the boy warrior had ever seen before. It was black and ran as a thick jelly-like mucus.

  Even so, Galahad saw with some satisfaction that the Creature of the Dark could feel pain. It put back its head and howled with a mixture of agony and brutal anger.

  Risking a quick look sideways Galahad saw with satisfaction that Sir Lauriston too had wounded his opponent having struck high on the creature’s thigh.

  Rivulets of the black blood were running down the Creature of the Dark’s leg to pool
on the ground.

  Galahad was swiftly brought back to his own battle as the creature’s swung a massive blow towards the boy’s head. It was an attack that would have completely shattered the boy warrior’s skull had it landed but it did not land.

  Galahad leapt quickly out of its way and then once more drove his dagger deep into the creature’s chest as it left itself open and unprotected from the huge swing that it had just made. Galahad then struck against the creature’s side and this time with his sword. He saw, with some satisfaction, that once more there was black blood oozing from and running down the Creature of the Dark.

  Merlin stood aside from the battle was raging alongside him. His eyes were firmly fixed on the distant horizon and the Forces of the Dark that were gradually breaking through the remaining magical defences of Avalon.

  If that did happen the boy enchanter knew that there would be nothing to prevent the Dark Lord and his Army of the Dead from crashing down and burning everything that was in Avalon and Camelot.

  Merlin knew that it would burn with the Fire of the Pit for the boy now knew exactly who or rather what the Dark Lord was.

  It was with a deep sense of foreboding that the boy enchanter understood that not just Camelot and Avalon but the whole of the World of Mankind faced a foe that even to him was starting to seem unbeatable.

  It was a Vision of Hell on Earth and one from which there would be no return for any living soul.

  Somewhere deep inside himself Merlin felt the weakening of the Bonds that held the Gates to the Underworld in place. The Gates were at their breaking point and if they did finally give way then the immortal and invincible Army of the Dead would surge out of the Underworld or rather out of Hell, as the boy now thought of it, and swarm into the World of Men.

  Not one single member of this Army of the Dead could be killed by a mortal, Merlin knew this for a fact and he also knew the reason for this fact. The Army of the Dead were, as their name spelled out, dead.