Merlin and the Land of Mists: Book Two: The Minotaur

by P. J. Cormack

  “Do not underestimate the Raven Boy,” the Dark Lord warned the monstrous beast that stood before him, “He has turned others that I have sent away from me.”

  The Minotaur looked hard at the Dark Lord. It was as if the monster could not believe that the fiery demon doubted its ability to crush the boy with its bare hands.

  “I am Ergotaur,” it said dismissively, “I do not fail for only the gods can stand against me.”

  “You will not fail me,” the Dark Lord warned his face grim so that the creature would know of its fate if it did not succeed in killing his enemy, “There are worse fates than death that I promise you.”

  The Minotaur roared its defiance. If it could have ripped the Dark Lord to shreds it would have done so for it was not used to being doubted. That it did not was evidence that although the demon was not a god he had godlike powers and he was not for the Minotaur’s crushing.

  The Dark Lord had seen the anger and frustration in the Minotaur’s eyes and was well aware that the creature from the Abyss wished to kill him. He was also fully confident that it would not try such a foolhardy act. It was the Dark Lord’s great Powers of Enchantment that had called the beast from the Pit of Hell and they could just as easily blast him back there and worse.

  “Remember, Ergotaur,” the Dark Lord warned the Minotaur, “I can overlook you.” The Dark Lord gestured towards the dark globe that he had used to scry the Blood Riders, “Fail me and I will blast you far beyond Hell itself. Fail me and I promise you that you will suffer a fate far more terrible than death itself.”

  The Minotaur’s only response was to take a stronger grip on the huge club and swing it effortlessly over its head. It was a monstrous killing weapon fit for a monster such as the Minotaur.

  “Now go,” the Dark Lord ordered the Minotaur, “Go to Avalon and destroy all and everything that stands in your way. Find this Raven Boy and kill him.”

  The Dark Lord’s final words came out with such a force that fire flared up around him and yet more blocks of stone crashed down from the walls and ceilings of the Dungeon of Castle Despair. The Dark Lord gestured angrily at the wall of the Dungeon and with the sound of granite grinding on granite it fell completely away.

  For a moment the Minotaur stood as if savouring the task ahead on it. Then it lifted the huge spiked club above its head and bellowed its anger as it drew in the air of a world that it had not seen for many thousands of years. Then the creature from Hell strode over the fallen blocks of Castle Despair smashing any that stood in its way with its armed club. It knew that it would slaughter all that confronted it and the thought was good. The monstrous creature that was half man and half bull had only one wish, only one great desire in its head and that was to kill this Raven Boy as brutally and painfully as possible. It had never had the opportunity to kill a child before and it would be interesting to see just how much blood the boy had in him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  DRAGONS’ KEEP

  “I see you, Archer.”

  The dragon’s voice roared out so that the fires that burnt around Dragons’ Keep reared up in response to the dragon’s anger.

  “Greetings, Draago,” the mercenary replied. He had not expected a friendly welcome from the dragon and he certainly wasn’t getting one. Idly he wondered if the dragon would burn him out of existence before he had time to explain his second time of coming to Dragons’ Keep.

  “What seek you here, assassin?” Draago’s voice rumbled out over the mountain tops but at least, Archer thought to himself, I’m still alive and that has to be a bonus.

  “Nothing, I seek nothing here,” he told the dragon, “I’m returning to Avalon.”

  “You’ve discovered the Dark Lord’s Spell Name?” If that was true, the dragon knew, then the Raven Boy would have the mastering of the Dark Lord and could drive him and his Dark Magic out of Avalon for All of Time.

  Archer shook his head, “No,” he told Draago a grim look on his face, “He keeps it too well guarded. It is not mine to find.”

  “Then why do you return to Avalon?” The dragon asked for still he did not trust the bleak looking mercenary and probably never would.

  “The Dark Lord is gathering his Forces,” Archer told the dragon, “The Blood Riders are riding and he seeks to raise the Army of the Dead. I thought that you and the Raven Boy had blasted the Blood Riders out of existence.”

  “We did,” the dragon replied his voice softening a little at the memory, “The Raven Boy was my Dragon-Rider and he cast the Spell of Destruction on them and there is no return from that.”

  “Then how is it that they are once again menacing Avalon,” the big mercenary asked.

  “The Dark Lord must have raised more.” The dragon replied.

  “Is that possible?” Archer queried.

  “It is when you have the full power of the Dark Magic,” Draago told him, “But it will weaken the Dark Lord every time that he is forced to summon these demons from the Underworld.”

  “Perhaps in that there is some hope for Avalon,” the mercenary said.

  “There is always hope for both Avalon and Camelot while the Raven Boy lives,” Draago roared, “And I also had heard that the Blood Riders were riding once more. But you have not answered my question, Archer. Why do you return to Avalon?”

  “I wish to see the Raven Boy,” the big mercenary said quite simply.

  “To kill him?” Once again the dragon’s voice roared like thunder around the mountain tops, “Have you done a deal with the Dark Lord, Archer? I warned you…..”

  Already fire was coming from the dragon’s breath and Archer knew that he would probably be dead within the space of a few seconds. He felt strangely calm, he did not fear death because he had brought it to so many but he wished to live so that he could stand alongside the Raven Boy and give what aid he could to him and Avalon. The dragon lifted up its head so that it might engulf the mercenary in its scorching fire.

  “I go to Avalon to offer the Raven Boy my help.”

  The dragon held off its fire. Archer’s voice had sounded convincing but once before it had been tricked by the weasel words of the Forces of the Dark and that was not going to happen a second time.

  “And is that all?” Draago asked suspiciously, flames hovering around the edges of his breath.

  “To die for him and Avalon,” Archer said with a fierce determination in his voice.

  Still the dragon did not trust the mercenary, “Why should I believe you?” Draago roared, “For you have slain many men and every one of them for gold. You are a hired assassin.”

  A weary look passed over Archer’s face for he knew that the dragon spoke the truth. He had killed more men that he could remember and it had always been for whoever could afford his not insubstantial fee.

  “Kill me now if you wish,” Archer resignedly told the dragon, “But if you do then you will be depriving the Raven Boy of a true ally for I tell you this, dragon, I am prepared to die for the Raven Boy.”

  “I do not trust you,” Draago roared.

  “Then kill me and be done with it,” Archer replied for he felt that he had already lived too long and there too was much blood on his hands.

  Still the dragon held back its fire, it did not trust the grim faced mercenary but it remembered that the Raven Boy gave everyone one more chance. Perhaps Archer should be allowed to prove his loyalty to the Raven Boy and, through him, to Avalon and Camelot.

  “You have courage,” the dragon grudgingly told the mercenary.

  “I would not have returned to Dragons’ Keep if I intended to kill the Raven Boy.”

  That at least made sense to Draago, “Why did you return here?” The dragon asked.

  “To warn you that the Dark Lord once again threatens Avalon and the Raven Boy.”

  “I had already heard of the Dark Lord’s return and the Mountain Spirits have seen the Blood Riders,” the dragon answered.

  “I did not know that,” the big mercenary replied, “And I also hoped that you
might choose to fight by the Raven Boy’s side and return to Avalon with me.”

  Archer had spoken with such a conviction that Draago was now starting to believe, at least to some extent, the mercenary’s words.

  “The Raven Boy is my Dragon Master,” the dragon told Archer, “I cannot go to him unless he summons me. The Dragon Lore does not permit it.”

  “This I also did not know,” Archer told the dragon.

  “I cannot break the Dragon Lore,” Draago said, “However much I want to.”

  “Then I will take my leave of you,” Archer said, “I am still many leagues from Avalon and I would be with the Raven Boy as soon as I can. I would not die with the thought that I did not come to him in his hour of need.”

  There seemed little more to be said and the mercenary turned to leave Dragons’ Keep.

  “Before you go, Archer,” the dragon’s voice echoed around Dragon’s Keep.

  “Yes, dragon,” Archer turned to look back at Draago.

  “Only a Dragon Master can summon his dragon but it is permitted, in times of great peril, for another to call to the Dragon Master’s dragon.” The dragon stretched out its enormous and scaled front leg and Archer could see that there was something held tightly in the dragon’s talons.

  “Take this talisman,” Draago ordered, “And should the Raven Boy’s life, his very life, be in danger then see that it is cast upon the ground and I shall know to come to him.”

  The grim mercenary bowed to the dragon for he knew that to receive the talisman was to also receive the dragon’s trust.

  “You do me great honour, Draago,” he told the dragon.

  “Guard it with great care,” the dragon ordered him, “Use it unwisely and your own life will be forfeit.”

  “I will,” Archer promised.

  “Take my greetings to the Raven Boy,” the dragon said, “And remind him that his dragon awaits his Dragon Master’s call.”

  Without another word Archer turned away from Draago and began his descent down the steep sides of Dragons’ Keep. It was many leagues to Avalon and even further to Camelot and the big mercenary’s only hope was that he could arrive there before the Dark Lord and his Blood Riders did.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AVALON

  MANTA GORE

  Merlin was stood in the fast flowing waters of Manta Gore for together with the Great Stones this was his favourite place in all of Avalon. The trees bent down gracefully to hover just over the fast running stream. In fact it was more a river than a stream but in some places the quick flow of the water was eased by a series of small, elegant waterfalls and it was at the bottom of these that Merlin liked to play and bathe. He also knew that this was one place that enchantment couldn’t overlook him for running water will tolerate no magic. In the distance Merlin could see the purple and blue peaks of the mountains that surrounded and protected Avalon. It was Merlin had decided long ago one of the most beautiful places in the entire world and he wanted it to remain so. The boy knew that should the Dark Lord ever break through Avalon’s defences then Manta Gore and Camelot would be razed to the ground. It would become a wasteland, for anything that was beautiful was hated by the Forces of the Dark who sought only to destroy and maim all that was good.

  “The Dark Lord is coming,” he told the large raven that stood on a branch that overhung Manta Gore, “I know it and he is stronger than ever.”

  “Your father told you?” Kraak asked, he was well aware that the Raven Boy was the only one that the Guardians Spirits of the Crystal Cave would allow passage to speak with the greatest of the Elder gods, Mithras Invictus.

  Merlin nodded, “He showed me the Army of the Dead, Kraak. They wait at the Edge of the Underworld. There was so many of them that they stretched as far as I could see and they only await the summons of the Dark Lord before they flood into Avalon.”

  The boy shivered and it was not from the coldness of the waters of Manta Gore. He knew that Avalon could not stand against this terrible army of dead spirits and that many innocent men, women and children would suffer an agonising death at the hands of the Dark Lord’s Army of the Dead.

  Kraak could sense the Raven Boy’s unhappiness and he too knew that should the Dark Lord enter Avalon there would not be any talking beasts remaining there. The Forces of the Dark would slaughter them as they would everything else.

  “What holds them back?” The King of the Raven Kind asked.

  “My death,” Merlin told him bleakly, “They cannot enter Avalon while I live.”

  “Then they can’t kill you,” the raven said almost in relief.

  “They don’t seek to,” Merlin said grimly, “The Dark Lord has sent another to do that. A creature that he has raised from the depths of Hell, the Minotaur.”

  Kraak flinched back as if he had been struck, “The Minotaur.”

  Like Merlin and in fact like every being in the living world Kraak had never seen a Minotaur for they were creatures of legend but ever the more terrifying for that. They belonged to another era, many thousands of years before when the gods had walked the earth. The Minotaur had been born from an unnatural coupling, or so the stories told, and it was of enormous strength and ferocity.

  “Half bull and half man,” Merlin continued, “And it’s very, very big.”

  For a moment even Kraak was silenced. The thought of this monstrous creature striding into Avalon to kill the Raven Boy was almost more than the raven could take in.

  “Your father showed it to you?” Kraak finally managed to ask.

  “Yes,” Merlin answered, “He said its name is Ergotaur.”

  “Your father is the Bull Slayer,” Kraak told Merlin for this was one of the names by which the Elder god was known, “You can kill this Minotaur, this Ergotaur, you are your father’s son,” the raven tried to reassure his friend.

  “My father told me that the only way to kill a Minotaur is to cut off its head. It can’t be slain by magic.”

  “That’s not good news,” the raven said. If the Minotaur was a big as the Raven Boy had said then he wondered how the young enchanter would be able to reach the monster’s head.

  “No, it’s not,” Merlin agreed drily, “But that’s what I must do if I’m to save Avalon.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Kraak asked the boy enchanter.

  “I want you to raise the Raven Kind and join Stormrider and the unicorns. Guard Avalon as best as you can should I fall.”

  “I will not leave you, Raven Boy,” the King of the Raven Kind told his friend.

  “Please, Kraak,” Merlin said, “Just do what I ask. Avalon is so much more important than me.”

  “Still I will not leave you,” the raven repeated stubbornly.

  “Kraak, this is what you must do.” Merlin told Kraak firmly.

  “I will not…” Kraak went to say but Merlin cut his friend off in mid-sentence.

  “Please, Kraak just go,” He said with a finality that could not be ignored.

  “I will go,” Kraak told the boy, “And ready the Raven Kind, but when this Minotaur threatens you I will return to stand by your side and live or die with you, Raven Boy and you will not stop me for that is where I should and must be.”

  Merlin knew that he could not gainsay the King of the Raven Kind and in truth he knew that he would be grateful to have his friend alongside when the Minotaur came to kill him.

  Without another word the King of the Ravens extended his large wings and reluctantly drove powerfully for the skies. Merlin watched him go until the raven was a mere speck in the distance.

  “Merlin,” the queen’s gentle voice cut across the boy’s thoughts.

  Merlin did not move, he knew exactly who it was that had spoken and he had known from the very first moment that Camelot’s queen had entered the willow trees that hung down around Manta Gore.

  “Merlin, I’m Queen…” Queen Alona began to say.

  “I know who you are,” Merlin said as he turned to face King Uther Pendragon’s wife, “And I k
now that you have been spying on me for the last five minutes

  “I wasn’t spying on you,” Queen Alona replied gently, “I was just curious. Were you actually talking to that huge raven?”

  “His name is Kraak,” Merlin told her, “And he is the King of the Raven Kind.”

  “And they call you the Raven Boy?” the queen said.

  “I’ve been called worse,” Merlin bleakly told her.

  “I’m sure you have, especially by the Dark Lord.”

  Merlin looked curiously at Queen Alona, “What do you know of him?” He finally asked her.

  “Only that my husband fears him.”

  “King Uther Pendragon is right to fear him,” Merlin replied, “The Dark Lord is of the Dark Magic and cannot be defeated by any mortal only by the Old Magic.”

  “And you are the only one who can defeat him,” it was a statement rather than a question.

  “Possibly,” was the boy enchanter’s stark reply.

  “You are not certain that you can protect Avalon?” The queen asked her concern sounding in her voice.

  Merlin looked far into the distance to the mountains that surrounded Avalon. They were ringed with inky black storm clouds and lightning was arcing down from them onto the ground. The boy knew that this was not a good sign.

  Wearily Merlin dragged his attention back to Queen Alona, “I am the son of a god, if anyone can save Avalon then it has to be me,” he told her quite simply.

  The queen’s face was a mask of distress and not just for Avalon, she knew with a great compassion just what her husband and the whole of Avalon expected from this eleven year old boy enchanter.

  “It’s dreadful that you should have to carry this burden, Merlin,” she told him.

  Merlin shrugged his shoulders, “It’s what I was born to do.”

  “On your own?” Queen Alona said.

  “I’m not on my own,” Merlin replied, “I have Kraak and his Raven Kind as well as Galapas and Stormrider with his unicorns. And I have my dragon.”