Galapas knew that what he was going to say would earn him a stern rebuke from King Uther Pendragon but still he felt that he had to say it.
“Sire, would it not be possible to arrange for the re-building of Mithras’ altars, perhaps then the god would return to Camelot. Merlin has to protect us from the Dark Magic because his father will not.”
Uther’s reply was exactly as the High Mage had expected.
“No, Galapas I will not rebuild these altars,” King Uther’s face was now turning a deep shade of red and Galapas knew that this was never a good sign. “If Mithras Invictus has chosen to abandon us then that was his decision not mine. I will not go begging to him and asking for his protection, if he does not return then I will order the complete destruction of every one of his altars.”
And that would lead to us being completely at the mercy of the Dark Lord, Galapas thought to himself but wisely held his tongue.
“Then who will protect us?” Galapas asked his face a set mask so that he would not reveal his true feelings about King Uther’s blustering.
“Sir Lauriston du Lac and the Knights of Camelot will defend us as they have always done.” Once again the king was coming very close to losing his temper. “And you, Galapas, will guard us against the Dark Magic. If you cannot do that then you are not fit to be called the High Mage of Camelot and I will find someone more skilful than you to hold this office.”
Galapas knew that there was no one in Avalon who could even come close to his ability. The High Mage had defended Camelot in the time of King Ambrosius as well as that of Uther but this Dark Magic was far too powerful. Such dominance was beyond the strength of ordinary mortal men and always would be. Galapas didn’t know who or what the Dark Lord was but the enchantment that the demonic being carried with him was only slightly less than that of a god and Galapas had no answer to that.
“As your majesty wishes,” Galapas replied his face was grim as he strove to hide his true feelings.
Queen Alona realised the strain that Galapas was under and tried to turn the subject away from criticising the High Mage.
“Is there nothing that any of us can do to protect Avalon from this monster?” she asked in her quiet voice.
“There is nothing more that we can do, my lady,” Galapas answered, “Camelot has the finest and most skilful knights in the world but they cannot prevail against the Dark Lord. His Forces are that of the Dark Magic and the knights cannot kill them for they are already dead. I fear that there is still worse to come.”
“So we just sit here and wait to die?” King Uther Pendragon said sarcastically.
“No, sire,” Galapas had himself more under control now. “We fight magic with magic and that is what Merlin is doing. The Dark Magic cannot withstand the Forces of the Old Magic and already, as Queen Alona has said, the magical beasts are returning to Camelot to aid us in the hour of our greatest need.”
“The unicorns,” Queen Alona’s voice was hardly more than a whisper.
“Yes, my lady,” Galapas bowed his head slightly to Alona, he wished that Uther had half the intelligence of his queen. “And there are others,” the High Mage continued, “The dragon will come at Merlin’s summons and there are the griffins who are also of the Old Magic and there may well be more that we do not know of for I cannot believe that the Old Magic would let Camelot die.”
Queen Alona’s eyes were sparkling with excitement, “I would love to see a unicorn, I hear there are as pure white as snow.”
“There usually are, my lady,” Galapas agreed, “But their leader is the colour of gold with a silver mane and tail.”
“What is his name?” Alona asked.
“He is called Stormrider,” Galapas answered, “He is twice the size of a normal horse with a horn that is of twisted gold and silver. He has eyes that are as blue as Avalon’s summer sky.”
Uther felt that he was being ignored by this talk of magic and one thing that Uther could not stand was being ignored. He decided that it was time for him to re-establish his authority.
“Then we shall leave such Enchantment in your hands,” King Uther Pendragon told his High Mage, Galapas noticed that the king had been careful not to mention Merlin. “Come with me, Sir Lauriston,” the king continued, “There are a number of issues of tactics that I wish to discuss with you.”
Galapas bowed his head as King Uther Pendragon and his Knight Commander left Camelot’s Great Throne Room. When he looked up the High Mage was surprised to see Queen Alona standing in front of him.
“You must forgive my husband,” she said, “He does not intend to be so rude but he has always had a high temper even when we were children. It’s very useful to him in battle but not much help in a debate and certainly not one in which Magic is involved for he really has no understanding of it. I hope that he didn’t upset you, he can be very brusque at times.”
“Think nothing of it, my lady,” Galapas said, “If he is ever rude it is only because he worries for the safety of Camelot.”
“It is very hard for him to accept that we could be attacked by something that he is powerless to even confront let alone defeat, Galapas.” Queen Alona said.
“I know the feeling, my lady,” Galapas admitted, “These Dark Forces are also beyond my powers and it is not easy to feel so inadequate.
“Would the rebuilding of Mithras Invictus’ altars really protect us?” The queen asked.
“I believe that it would, my lady, but it may be that Mithras has already decided to desert Avalon. He is not a god that is renowned for his patience but he is the most powerful of the Elder gods and we should at least try.”
“Poor Merlin,” Queen Alona said, “What a terrible burden he has to carry for all our sakes. Please do ask him to come to Camelot, Galapas. I should very much like to meet him.”
“I will ask him, my lady,” Galapas promised but he had a pretty good idea what Merlin’s answer would be and it would not be particularly polite.
Queen Alona flashed the High Mage her dazzling smile that had captured the heart of Camelot’s king and left the Great Throne Room. With a deep sigh Galapas too walked away past the Great Throne. Things were going to get a great deal worse, he decided, before they got better and that was not good, not good at all for any of them.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE GATES TO THE UNDERWORLD
It was a place that no mortal would ever see, in fact it was a place that no mortal would ever wish to see for this was the portal into that Nether World that exists outside of Time and Space. It was here that all the Souls of the Damned were held. There was no Day nor Night in the Underworld for it was an Abyss where such things had no need to exist. It was a place where demons had been banished and creatures of incomparable evil and destruction were housed so that they could no more wreak their violence either in the Land of the Living nor in the House of the Dead.
It was from this Underworld that the Dark Lord had, by the Art of his Dark Magic, called forth the Blood Riders that had brought such havoc and destruction to Avalon and Camelot. The Dark Lord would soon raise more of these long dead demons but that was not why he was here. The Dark Lord sought another Creature of Hell and one that he would raise purely that it might kill the Raven Boy.
The Gates to the Underworld stood as twin Pillars of Fire that would burn any being unwary enough to try to pass its Entrance for this was a Place of Eternal Imprisonment and none were allowed to pass. The Fires of the Underworld could not harm the Dark Lord for he was partly an element of fire himself, in fact he revelled in their scorching heat and welcomed the flames that writhed around him. Even though he was of the Dark Magic and one of the Great Lords of the Dark, the Dark Lord could not pass through the Gates to the Underworld. He had chosen to live in the World of Men and should he return to the Fires of the Underworld he, for all his great power, would never be allowed to leave again.
What the Dark Lord was doing was expressly forbidden by the Elder gods but they, like Mithras Invictus in Avalon, were fadin
g away. They had lost interest in the World of Men and were either moving onto new worlds or simply fading out of Time. This had given the Dark Lord his chance to once more cross the Barriers that had been set up by the Elder gods and to pillage and destroy the World of Men.
As the Dark Lord called the Dark Magic to him his body seemed to swell and grow taller. The red lava that ran around the very scales that clad him flared up so that he was a towering figure of blazing fire. Even the flames of the Gates of the Underworld seemed insubstantial against this Great Lord of the Dark. As was his way the Dark Lord let his anger burn and grow within him for this was the source of his power as it always has been for Evil since the Dawn of all Worlds.
The huge being that now seemed to be made of nothing other than the fire that flared out from him raised his arms in a Gesture of Power. In a voice that roared like approaching thunder the demon cast the Summoning Spell that would call forth one of the most evil and elemental creatures of the Underworld and one which the Dark Lord fully expected to kill the Raven Boy and then drown both Camelot and Avalon in blood.
Creature of Darkness, Brother of the Abyss,
Hear my call and obey.
Master of Chaos, Demon of Destruction,
Hear my summons and obey.
Your Lord demands that you come to him and serve.
Seed of Man, born of the Bull,
I bring you forth from the Flames.
Destroyer of Dragons, I call you.
Beast of the Hades, I call you.
Horned Demon, I summon you.
The flames at the Portal reared up as if to countermand the Dark Lord’s spell but he was a Being of Great Power and could command the Guardians of the Underworld. From just beyond his sight a huge, towering form could be seen. It walked on its hind legs but it was not a man for it bellowed in a guttural voice that shook the very Underworld itself. It was an inhuman sound that ran with all the anger and hatred that festered in the bowels of Hell. Such was its power that the sound even broke into the World of Men and those that were wise gathered their families to them and took shelter in the shrines of their gods.
The creature did not cross the Gates of the Underworld for the Dark Lord did not yet require its presence in his destruction of Avalon. He held it where it was, wreathed in the Flames of the Dark Magic. The Dark Lord knew that the creature would come when he called it. It would kill the Raven Boy and then would begin the laying waste to the whole of Avalon and Camelot. The creature would kill the Raven Boy slowly, the Dark Lord decided, for the boy had caused him great hindrance and he did not deserve an easy death. The flames reared up from the Dark Lord feeding once more on his anger and rage as his thoughts turned to the Raven Boy. It was as if the fire knew, as the Dark Lord did, that he would enjoy watching the boy die.
CHAPTER FIVE
DRAGONS’ KEEP
Fires burned all around Dragons’ Keep for dragons love fire being creatures that are born in flames. It was the bleak windswept top of the highest of the Great Mountains that surrounded Avalon and Draago loved it. It had been an agony for the dragon being kept chained in the dungeon of Castle Despair and Draago had truly believed that he would never know freedom again. It was shameful that he, the Last of the Dragon Kind, should have been so enchanted and then enslaved and sent, at the command of the Dark Magic of the Dark Lord, to kill a child. But this had been no ordinary child and the Dark Lord had seriously misjudged the strength of his enemy.
The child had been Merlin, the Raven Boy and son of Mithras Invictus, the most powerful of the Elder gods. Merlin might have been only eleven years old but he ran with all the power of his great father but fortunately not with Mithras’ innate cruelty. Mithras Invictus was the Unconquered god who sits astride the bull while he cuts its throat. The Legions of Rome had carried Mithras Invictus with them and together they had conquered the whole of the known world. But now the legions had left Britannia and although Mithras had chosen to remain in his Crystal Cave it was common knowledge that the god had lost interest in Avalon and would soon depart for ever.
This was what the Dark Lord had relied on when he had sent Draago and the Blood Riders to kill the Raven Boy and lay waste to Camelot. Merlin had become Draago’s Dragon Rider and blasted the Blood Riders across the Abyss. Draago remembered the fight with satisfaction, dragons carried great power with them for they too were of the Old Magic but Draago knew that his strength was as nothing to that of the boy who had sat astride him. In fact it might have been Mithras Invictus himself for the Raven Boy’s enchantment had been god-driven. It had been well done, the dragon thought to himself, and now he was free to do and go wherever he wanted and he had Merlin to thank for that. The Dark Lord would return, Draago knew that, and when he did the dragon would answer Merlin’s summons and return to fight at the side of the Raven Boy once more.
It was with these thoughts running through his head that Draago became aware of the approach of figure dressed all in green and brown. It was surprising that any human being should have made the climb to the heights of Dragons’ Keep and particularly this man who had once been in the Dark Lord’s employ and who had accepted the mission of killing the Raven Boy. The man carried a bow and a quiver full of arrows and Draago knew exactly who he was and the dragon was not pleased to see him.
“I see you, Archer,” fire leapt from the dragon’s mouth. Draago could have burnt the man to a cinder with one breath but remembering how the Raven Boy always gave everyone one chance he held off killing the mercenary - at least for a short time.
As Archer stepped into full view he unslung his bow and quiver and put them on the ground in front of him. He was fully aware that his arrows could never have penetrated the dragon’s scales. He also knew that he was only a heartbeat away from death. Even so he looked up confident at the dragon and spoke with a voice that did not waver.
“Draago,” was all that the bleak faced mercenary said as he bowed to the huge fire-breathing dragon that towered above him.
The dragon’s voice rumbled like the approach of thunder, “What brings you here, mercenary.” Draago almost spat out the last word.
“Mercenary no longer,” Archer told the dragon but Draago was less than convinced. The man had been a hired assassin who had killed literally hundreds of men apparently without a qualm of conscience.
“I find that very hard to believe,” Draago’s eyes were as hard as granite as he gave the bowman a long, hard stare.
“Even so,” Archer replied, “It is the truth. And what of you, dragon?”
Draago almost snorted his disbelief, the dragon didn’t like any man who killed for gold and he certainly didn’t like a man who had accepted a mission to kill a child. It had been Archer’s bad luck that he had been sent to kill the Raven Boy. Even so the arrow had been shot with unerring accuracy and would have pierced Merlin’s throat had the boy not used his enchantment to stop the well-aimed arrow in mid-flight.
Draago stared into the eyes of the mercenary as if to impart a warning, “I watch and I wait,” he told the bleak faced bowman.
“For the Dark Lord’s return,” Archer suggested.
“In case of the Dark Lord’s return,” the fire-breathing dragon corrected.
“Then you have met with the Raven Boy?” Archer’s question surprised Draago for the dragon had presumed that Archer knew how the boy enchanter had freed him from the Dark Lord’s enchantment.
“Yes, I have Archer.” Draago still did not trust the mercenary. It was possible that the man had left Avalon before Merlin had become Draago’s Dragon Master but it was also more than possible that Archer was still a servant of the Dark Lord and had been sent in another attempt to kill the boy enchanter. If anything Draago was inclined to accept the second explanation for the dragon did not trust the mercenary one inch.
“And….” Archer questioned, the mercenary’s face gave no hint of his true feelings.
“The Raven Boy is my Dragon Master and Dragon Rider,” Draago continued, “And I am his dra
gon.”
Archer was impressed, “That is powerful magic,” the assassin said more to himself that to the dragon.
“It was the Old Magic,” Draago roared the words with such force that the mercenary had to step away from the billowing flames that emanated from the dragon. “And what of you, mercenary?” Draago asked.
Once again Archer realised that he was in a very real danger of losing his life in the dragon’s fire.
“The Raven Boy had the chance to kill me,” he told Draago, there was still a hint of wonder in the mercenary’s voice as if he too could not understand why he was still alive.
“And he obviously did not,” Draago said wryly.
“I have never failed before,” it was still as if the bowman was talking to himself, “I have killed hundreds of men but against the Raven Boy I was helpless.” He said in a low voice.
“Why did he not kill you, assassin?” Draago asked. It was obvious that the dragon would have very much preferred Archer dead rather than alive.
The bowman looked up at Draago, “The Raven Boy said that he gave everyone just one chance and this was mine,” he replied and even to the dragon there was the ring of truth in the man’s voice.
Draago still could not trust a man who had killed for money, “It’s a pity that he didn’t kill you.” He told the mercenary.
“You don’t like me, dragon,” Archer said feeling that he was stating the obvious.
“You are correct,” the dragon told him with a low rumble of warning in its deep voice, “I don’t like men who kill for gold,”
Archer nodded his understanding, “You are right to doubt me, dragon,” he agreed, “But the Raven Boy trusts me.”
Once again Draago’s voice roared out across Dragons’ Keep, “Then pray, Archer that you never betray his trust for if you do I will follow you to the depths of Hell and beyond to gain my revenge.”
Merlin and the Land of Mists: Book Two: The Minotaur Page 3