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

by P. J. Cormack

  “And how was that possible, Galapas?” King Uther Pendragon asked, “If the Minotaur was such an unbeatable opponent?” Still the king sought to casts the seeds of doubt on what the boy had achieved.

  Galapas was struggling to hold his own temper in check. He knew that to end up in a shouting match with Camelot’s king would do neither him nor Merlin any good.

  “He used Mithras Invictus’ own killing knife,” he told the king as if explaining the obvious, “An enchanted Killing Sword that carries all the Power of the Elder gods and the Old Magic in its blade. The Sword now stands in one of the Great Stones of Avalon. It will never be drawn again unless Mithras Invictus or his son wills it.”

  The king’s face took on a stern look, “This does not please me,” he said looking around for any dissention, “Mithras’ Sword should be brought to Camelot. This is where it belongs.”

  Galapas tried to hold his tongue but even he thought that from a man who had let the Elder god’s protective altars fall into disrepair as well as discouraging the god’s worship this was pretty well a new low.

  “An army could not move it, sire,” sensibly the High Mage limited his reply while being careful to keep his true feelings hidden, “It is deeply held in the Great Stone and bound by the Old Magic.”

  “But Merlin can, you say,” the king was like a dog gnawing at a bone, he would not let go of it.

  “He can,” the High Mage replied his face as impassive as stone.

  “I would speak with this Raven Boy,” King Uther Pendragon said flatly and there was a hint of menace in his words.

  Once again Queen Alona tried to defuse the meeting, “Later, Uther,” she told her husband, “This is a time for happiness. Avalon is safe and the Dark Forces driven far from her borders.”

  “Still I would speak with this boy,” the king persevered, it was almost as if he was under some Spell of Petulance from the Dark Lord but the High Mage knew that this was not the case, this was one hundred percent Uther petulance.

  “I will ask him again, sire,” Galapas said in yet another attempt to placate his king.

  “You will order him, Galapas,” King Uther Pendragon thundered at the mage.

  “And I will arrange a tourney of our finest knights, sire,” Sir Lauriston du Lac suggested knowing that there was nothing the king enjoyed more than to see the Knights of Camelot demonstrating their prowess. “A tourney in your honour, sire, and to rejoice that Camelot and Avalon are once more safe under your guidance and safekeeping.”

  It was a very valiant attempt by the Knight Commander to bring a semblance of unity to the meeting but in this he was only partially successful.

  “I will speak with this Raven Boy,” the king told his High Mage, his voice had taken on a dangerous tone.

  Galapas wished, and not for the first time, that King Ambrosius was still on the throne of Camelot and not his increasingly unstable younger brother but the High Mage limited his reply.

  “I will pass your request to him, sire.”

  Galapas had no doubts as to what the boy enchanter’s response would be but he thought it prudent not to mention it to Camelot’s king.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE GATES TO THE UNDERWORLD

  The fires of the Underworld that was known as Hell burned stronger and brighter than ever for the death of its creature known as the Minotaur had greatly angered all who were held in that terrible place. The Army of the Dead no longer stood waiting at the Gates but had been driven deep into the very bowels of Hell. With the defeat of Ergotaur by the Old Magic the Gates were now sealed until such a time that the Dark Lord could once more attempt to bring the Dark Forces to Avalon and Camelot.

  The battle at the Great Stones of Avalon had been masked from the Dark Lord and this should not have been possible. The fire-driven demon was now more certain than ever that some great Power was protecting Avalon and the Raven Boy. The Creature of Darkness was well aware that only an Elder god could have defeated the Minotaur but he knew that the Elder gods were said to have left the Land of Mists. It would need a Deeper Looking the Dark Lord decided for there was truly the Old Magic in Avalon and he would need to find another way to bring his Army of the Dead into the World of the Living.

  As the Minotaur had died a huge, despairing cry had resounded through the Underworld. These dead, depraved creatures longed to break away from the living Hell where they were held and they could not believe that the Minotaur, which should have been invincible, had been slain. Now they burned once more in the flames that they had been eternally damned to.

  Thunder and lightning had crashed around Castle Despair as the Dark Lord’s anger drove through it like a living being. The Blood Riders had returned but they were a sorry sight for they had been chased and harried by the unicorns to the very Edge of the Abyss but they had not been destroyed. Even so it would be many moons before these long-dead demons could once more take to the skies at the command of their Dark Lord for Stormrider and his herd had done them great harm.

  The Dark Master of Castle Despair knew that he could not raise any more Creatures from the Abyss. When he had brought the Minotaur into the World of the Living he had broken even the Laws of the Dark Magic. These laws could not be ignored a second time even by the Dark Lord for such an act would threaten his own existence. He would never give up, in fact if anything the Dark Lord was more determined than ever to break into Avalon for this was to be only the beginning. The Dark Lord thirsted to bring his realm of Darkness to the whole of the World of Men. It would be a recompense for all that he had suffered and by the damnation of the World of the Living so he would be revenged.

  There was more in Avalon than he knew, the Dark Lord thought to himself. It should have been a simple task for the Minotaur to destroy a human child but it had not been. No mortal should have been capable of standing against the monstrous creature for it was protected by the Forces of the Abyss. The Dark Lord was well aware that the only way that the Minotaur could be slain was by beheading it and he knew that even some of the Elder gods would not have been able to achieve that.

  He had sent Ergotaur to kill the Raven Boy, a mortal human child, and yet the Minotaur had failed in what should have been such an easy task. The Raven Boy could not have slain the Creature from Hell, the Dark Lord was certain of that. It must be that the boy had other and greater protection, possibly from an Elder god. This did not make sense to the fire-driven demon for there was no reason for these gods to come to the rescue of what was an insignificant boy.

  Even so the impossible had happened and so the Dark Lord knew that there was indeed a Deeper Looking needed here before he would return to once more seek to overrun and destroy Avalon.

  The fortress that was Castle Despair once more slid down into the earth, granite grinded against granite as the home of the Dark Lord sunk down into the barren earth that surrounded it. No vegetation would ever grow there again for soil that has been touched by such Evil will never flourish or be fertile again, it would remain a desolation until the End of Time itself.

  The Dark Lord knew that again he had failed in his attempt to kill the Raven Boy and bring his Army of the Dead into the world of men. But this was not the end of the Dark Magic’s incursion it was merely a Holding for the Dark Lord determined that he would return with even greater Forces. Dark Forces that not even the Raven Boy would be able to hold back. This was the promise that the demon had made to himself and with the long overdue removal of this Raven Boy he would then finally bring the Darkness of his Hell to the World of the Living

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  AVALON

  THE GREAT STONES

  The hooded boy, the raven, the ghoul and the unicorn stood by the funeral pyre that they had built in the centre of the Great Stones of Avalon. On the top of the brushwood and deeply wrapped in his cloak lay the body of the one-time mercenary who had been known as Archer. By his side lay his bow which was now unstrung and his quiver of arrows, a number of which had been retrieved from the body of
the Minotaur.

  Merlin, Kraak, Grim and Stormrider stood with their heads bowed and they were as still as the Great Stones themselves. They were each remembering the bowman in different ways for first he had been their enemy but in the end he had turned out to be the truest of friends. The sun was slowly dipping down below the peaks of the mountains that surrounded Avalon and still they did not move. Then as it finally slid behind the twin peaks of Avalon’s highest mountain Merlin knew that the time had come to say a final goodbye to their friend.

  The boy lifted his head and his voice rang true and clear among the Great Stones of Avalon.

  “Go to your ancestors, my friend, go as you wished in the flames. Sleep quietly in the House of the Dead, Archer, for you are a true hero of Avalon.”

  There were no extravagant theatricals from Merlin for this was not the time for that and he was deeply sorrowed at the loss of the man who had become his friend and who had died for him and for Camelot.

  Fire leapt from the boy enchanter and the funeral pyre burst into strong and vigorous flames. Soon the mercenary’s body was hidden from sight by the fast burning fire that ran from the bottom to the top of the funeral pyre. As Merlin watched the smoke from Archer’s funeral pyre began to twist and writhe so as to form the words that the boy enchanter knew from the Dragon Lore but this time another verse was revealed.

  “When Evil stands at Camelot’s Gates.

  Then will come he of the Old Magic,

  In a time before the Raising of the Sword

  By the Old Magic will Evil fall.

  The Unicorn, the Dragon, the Raven and the Undead

  Will face those Evils that all Camelot dreads.

  By the Power of the Raven Boy and the Power of the land,

  Shall all be protected and all Evil withstand.

  Enchantment from a future long foretold

  That which will summon the boldest of bold,

  Comes the white haired boy at first untrusted

  He of Lancelot’s line but never corrupted.”

  The smoke words of the Dragon Lore hung over the pyre until the flames leapt up to consume them and then they were gone. But these words were held deep in Merlin’s soul for he knew they would aid him not only in his fight against the Forces of the Dark but also the hoped for decisive victory over the Dark Lord that would free Camelot, Avalon and the whole of Britannia from the Dark Magic.

  The sun slid behind Avalon’s mountains and day became night but the pyre continued to burn and the four friends remained motionless. The boy and his comrades stood like guardians as the fire burnt to nothing. It was only with the rising of the sun that they moved once more for so deep had been their vigil.

  The pyre had burnt itself out and was now no more than a mound of grey ash. There was nothing left of Archer’s body and that was exactly how the mercenary had wished it and Merlin had held true to his friend’s dying wish.

  There was one more task that Merlin had set his mind to do. He knew that with the coming of the morning breeze the ash would soon be nothing more than a scattering of grey dust and then the memory of Archer would soon slip from men’s minds and the boy enchanter did not want that to happen.

  Watched by his friends Merlin walked up to the remains of the pyre and spread his hands out over it. Blue flames leapt from boy and gradually, in front of those for whom Archer had fought, the mound of ash became a solid block of blue and grey granite that would never weather for it would remain the same until the End of Time. Nor would it ever be moved for it was tied to the earth by the strongest of spells of the Old Magic.

  Merlin moved his hands one more time and a golden fire leapt from him to the immoveable stone so that a number of words emerged etched in a blaze of burning gold that would never lose its shine. The words were in the Spell-Speak of the Old Magic

  ‘HNC IT LYRNE OBSIDE BOFTIE DET ARCHERE

  VRETE HEERTE DET AHGARLONE’

  Which being translated is

  ‘HERE LIES THE BODY OF ARCHER

  A TRUE HERO OF AVALON’

  And these words would so remain until the End of Time itself.

  HERE ENDS THE SECOND BOOK OF

  ‘MERLIN AND THE LAND OF MISTS’

  THERE WILL BE FOUR MORE.

  TURN PAGE

  FOR A SNEAK PEEP OF

  ‘MERLIN AND THE LAND OF MISTS’

  BOOK THREE – ‘GALAHAD’

  SNEAK PEEP

  MERLIN AND THE LAND OF MISTS

  BOOK THREE ‘GALAHAD’

  CHAPTER TWO

  AVALON

  MANTA GORE

  It was, Merlin had decided long ago, quite simply the best place in the whole of Avalon, if not in the whole of the world. True the Circle of the Great Stones came pretty close but that was because there was magic and deep enchantment there. But there were also the bad memories of his confrontation with the Minotaur when his friend and ally, the one-time mercenary Archer, had died. Manta Gore was different, its magic was in the beauty of the place and the peacefulness of its overhanging willow trees and gently chattering river. There was no Enchantment here, either of the Old Magic or the Dark Magic, for flowing water will allow no magic.

  You could keep the posing and posturing of Camelot’s Court where so many strived to be noticed or to make themselves look important, Merlin thought. For him his happiness lay in being as much like an ordinary eleven year old boy as the son of the Greatest of the Elder gods could ever be. For Merlin was the son of Mithras Invictus, Mithras the Unconquered, Mithras the Bull Slayer, the greatest of the Elder gods that the Roman legions had carried with them as they conquered all of the known world.

  The legions had left Britannia some hundred years earlier. Their conquests were failing and now Rome itself was under attack by the barbarian hordes that, one day, would ground that city state beneath their heels. Rome’s time as the greatest power on Earth was fast coming to an end and it would never rise to its former glory again. With the retreat and failing of Rome so was coming the end of the old gods, or as they were named the Elder gods, of the legions. Many of these gods had already faded away and some like Mithras Invictus had or were fast losing interest in a world that did not worship or even believe in their existence anymore. The legions had brought their unconquered god, Mithras Invictus, with them to the Land of Mists when they had invaded Britannia. The Elder god had loved the wild country that was Avalon and he had fallen in love with a Celtic princess there. Her name was Princess Ailidh and she was the daughter of King Math ap Gwynned and it was from her that Merlin had been born. It was from his birth mother that Merlin had inherited his deep love for the rolling plains and towering mountains of Avalon.

  Mithras Invictus had given his protection to Avalon and this was held by a ring of the Bull Slayer’s altars that surrounded the boundaries of Avalon. When King Uther Pendragon had come to power after the death of his brother, King Ambrosius, he had discouraged the worship of Mithras Invictus and allowed the protective ring of altars to fall into disrepair and Camelot and Avalon’s defence was now fading away.

  None of this was troubling Merlin, or the Raven Boy, as the ravens called him, for the present he was just an eleven year old boy splashing about in the ever changing waters of Manta Gore. Alongside the boy enchanter were his friends, Kraak and Grim. Kraak was the King of the Raven Kind and was a raven that was as big and as strong as a very large eagle. Kraak could speak the Speech of Men having been granted the gift of speech by Mithras Invictus.

  Merlin’s other friend could not have been more different from the King of the Raven Kind for he was a ghoul and a particularly smelly one at that. The ghoul’s name was Grim and he was uncertain as to just how long he had been dead but Merlin said that it smelt like a couple of hundred years. Even so Grim had been loyal to the Raven Boy. That was as loyal as a ghoul could be. Grim had been at the Great Stones of Avalon when Merlin had confronted the Minotaur, a creature that was half bull and half man that had been raised by the Dark Lord from the Depths of Hell by
his Black Arts. Grim had not joined the fight which was probably just as well for he would have been more of a hindrance to Merlin than a help. Even so the ghoul had not fled, as Merlin had expected he would. Grim had also stood vigil for a whole night with Merlin, Kraak and Stormrider, the golden King of the Unicorns, as Archer’s funeral pyre had sent the dead mercenary to join his ancestors in the House of the Dead.

  “The Raven Kind have flown far and wide,” Kraak told the boy enchanter, “They have seen nothing of the Dark Lord,” the Raven Kind were Merlin’s ‘eyes and ears’ throughout Camelot and Avalon and sometimes even beyond.

  Merlin turned to look at Grim, the ghoul was stood high up on the river bank of Manta Gore. Ghouls and water did not mix very well.

  “Have the ghouls heard anything, Grim?” the boy asked.

  The ghoul shook his head, it always looked to Merlin as if Grim’s head would fall off when the ghoul did this but somehow it seemed to manage to remain on his shoulders.

  “We have seen and heard nothing,” the ghoul replied, “Mighty Lord is gone, perhaps for ever.”

  “Then Archer’s death was not in vain,” the King of the Raven Kind said what they were all thinking.

  Merlin nodded his agreement, it would be nice to think that the Dark Lord had left Avalon for ever but the boy did not think that was likely to be the case.

  “Let’s hope so, Kraak, but it’s not in the Dark Lord’s nature to admit defeat,” Merlin said.

  “The Dark Lord’s Army of the Dead cannot enter Avalon while you live, Raven Boy,” Kraak reminded him and it was true. The Army of the Dead could not swarm out from the Gates of the Underworld while the Old Magic remained in Avalon and Merlin, together with his great father, the Elder god, was of the Old Magic.