Camelot Resurgent

by Galen Wolf

  ‘Let’s keep on,’ I say.

  As quietly as possible, we pick up speed. Tye gawps backwards over his shoulder at the enemy troops. I concentrate on the road ahead. After a bend to the right, the trail becomes mercifully straight and I can see five hundred yards ahead where friendly light glows.

  I feel if we just got into the Good Zone of Control we’d be safe. I take a chance. ‘Okay, come on, let’s ride hard,’ and I nudge my heels into Spirit’s sides. We spring forward and then I have to tug on the reins to slow him, because we’re outdistancing the wagons.

  Then the shout goes up.

  ‘They’ve seen us,’ Tye yells. He’s still ten yards behind me and the wagons are twenty yards behind him. Bernard slows and goes back to form a one-man rearguard behind the wagons.

  A troop of orc spearmen spills out of the field onto the road behind the wagons. There are archers too and the first shafts of black arrows come arcing through the air. One or two clatter against the wooden frames of the wagons and one buries itself in a heap of shit. I groan. The last thing we need is the mules to get hit and the wagons to come to a halt.

  I turn and go back. Tye stops on Bessie, stands up in his stirrups and shoots a fireball back at the orcs. It hits the first group of spearmen with an enormous bang and stink of gasoline. They halt, reeling back, but through the thick black smoke emerge two enemy players, both fighters by the look of it. One of them has a bow.

  I don’t want to fight, I want to run. ‘Come on!’ I yell back at Bernard. He fumbles in his inventory and pulls out a milky white potion. He hurls it and it tips and tumbles in a high half-circle through the air, catching the red sunlight and then exploding with a crack and puff to form billowing clouds of thick white smoke. That’s good.

  ‘Hurry up!’ I yell. Bernard turns, grinning then takes and arrow in the back. Bernard slumps in his saddle and Tye goes back for him.

  Our shit wagons rattle down the road, the mules are terrified, eyes rolling and ears back as they gallop past me and towards the friendly zone of control.

  Bernard waves Tye away and bites the cork stopper of a blue healing potion, spitting the cork on the ground from the back of Henry and glugging back on the viscous blue liquid. ‘I’m okay,’ he shouts.

  I shake my head. They need to rush now. I can’t risk losing the wagons. I’ll have to leave my guys behind to die and return to Pendle or wherever they‘re bound.

  Fitheach sees Bernard is okay, so he and turns and gallops past me toward safety. I wave him past me along the road. Sitting on Spirit’s back, wagons rumble past me.

  The enemy were lost in the white smoke but now they emerge looking for trouble. There are four of them now. One of them is the rogue Deathknife. How the heck he got there with these guys, I don’t know. It’s possible he was following us and has joined up with them now, but it’s him without doubt.

  ‘Come on!’ I yell again. Bernard and Tye finally shake off their urge to fight and all of us finally gallop down the road. More arrows fly. If they hit us, we can heal. We just don’t need to fight. If we fight, they’ll capture the wagons.

  We’re even closer now to the welcome silvery glow of the friendly area. Spirit’s hoofs pound on the track, my heart beats fast.

  I burst into the friendly zone, Spirit’s head emerging into the light like the light of Spring after a clear shower of rain, shaking off the buzzing black and red of enemy territory. It’s a vision of loveliness here. There are flowers growing on the roadside, blue and yellow and white. Everything looks alive and I see a milestone.

 

  The change in ownership of the area won’t stop the bad guys following but there’s some psychological comfort from being inside the first friendly zone I’ve been in for a hundred plus miles. I stop at the milestone and wheel round, leaning down in the saddle like a gaucho to come within the area where the milestone will offer me to bind.

 

  I hit and now even if I die, I’m coming right back here.

  I slow and turn Spirit. Fitheach is past me and the wagons are inside and then comes Tye with Bernard, another black-feathered arrow sticking out of his arm. He’s still got blue potion left in the round glass bottle and he sips this as he enters Alderley Edge.

  I face the advancing enemy. They’ve totally come out of the smoke and now there are four enemy players advancing in front of a phalanx of orc spearmen. I’m prepared to fight now I’ve bound at the milestone.

  Without waiting for my command, Tye fires a Flaming Ray into the orc spearmen. In response, an enemy player fires his bow and the arrow thuds into the blue-robed mage. Tye jerks back in his saddle, looking surprised he’s been hit.

  Fitheach flicks his left hand and Tye is healed up. With a grim smile, Tye fires a beam of fire at the enemy. I’ve had enough of waiting for them to come to me. I put my visor down, steady my crystal lance, the green pennant fluttering in the slight breeze. I urge Spirit forward and he breaks into a gallop, his hoofs thudding into the ground as we gather momentum.

  Behind me, I hear Bernard yell and he’s making Henry go as fast as he can at the enemy.

  More arrows, the orcs halt with a stamp of their mail shod feet and they steady their spears. I charge straight at them. A big player fighters draw his sword and eyes me from my right, waiting for contact so he can sneak round me.

  I’m going fast and Spirit and I hurtle into the orc ranks, chopping down at their spears and sending them reeling back like we’re an ocean wave.

 

  I switch my lance for my sword and hack down.

 

  The enemy player launches himself on me.

 

 

  He knocks me off Spirit and I go sprawling in the dirt. Another attacks.

 

 

  This isn’t fun. I put up my shield and whirl to my right, striking out more by luck than judgement and I hit the enemy fighter Ylric.

 

 

 

 

 

  I grin. Good old Fitheach. Ylric comes at me again. I’m up on my feet and stand my ground and growl and I swear he falters. Let’s teach him what a Knight of the Round Table can do. I step forward and attack. I cut and slice and jab like a whirlwind, and he falls back. Three cuts and he’s dead then I turn forward to see which of the others are left.

  A massive fireball comes over my shoulder and blasts the regiment of orcs who fall back with a smell of soot and cinders. I am looking for enemy players. One called Smidger jabs his spear in my back for 500, which seems to be a crit. Then Fitheach heals me again, so it’s okay. I can’t see any sign of the rogue Deathknife, he’s left this fight to his betters. Maybe he has a more important mission to accomplish, and with that thought, I swing round, block Smidger’s spear thrust and look to the wagons, half expecting to see Deathknife driving them off.

  But there’s no Deathknife, instead there’s a squad of soldiers coming down the hill wearing livery I recognise: a winged silver snake. And there at their head is a player, in fact two players, both Knights of the Round Table. The first is Sir Mercurius of the Isle, my old mentor and the other is Sir Luc, my old buddy from training. They charge with a roar. Their soldiers are running down the road to engage the orcs.

  I slaughter Smidger and Madizon and Luc and Mercurius smash into the enemy, killing them like confused cattle. So this is how Alderley Edge has held out.

  The fight doesn’t last long. Mercurius comes up to me and raises his visor. ‘Well, well, well,’ he says with a laugh. ‘If it isn’t Sir Gorrow of the Bloody Field. Nice to see you, sport. You’ve come on since we last met at the fall of Camelot.’

>   I’m pleased to see him but I frown. ‘I hope we’re not meeting at the fall of Caer.’

  Then Luc joins us. Once he was haughty and up himself, or I thought he was. But he’s all smiles now and looks really pleased to see me.

  ‘Gorrow!’ he yells in delight.

  ‘Good to see you too.’ Then there’s that old rivalry and I ask with a half-grin, ‘What level are you Luc?’

  ‘17 now,’ he says.

  ‘Ah,’ I reply.

  ‘You?’

  ‘18’

  He laughs. ‘You finally overtook me, Gorrow.’ then he winks. ‘But not for long.’

  Bernard and Tye arrive from where they’ve been mopping up with Sir Mercurius’s soldiers. Bernard nods at Mercurius. ‘Good troops you’ve got there.’

  Mercurius smiles. ‘Yes, The Congleton Infantry. Great lads. Trained them myself.’

  Then Mercurius looks at us all. ‘Anyway, you’ll be wanting to meet the Wizard of Alderley Edge. After all, he’s the main man here.’

  ‘Sure,’ I say. Then I shrug. ‘Haven’t heard of him before.’

  Mercurius raises and eyebrow. ‘You’ve never heard of Merlin Silvestris?’

  ‘What — the Merlin?’ Tye asks, wide-eyed.

  Mercurius is still smiling. ‘Yup. The very one.’

  The flame-haired fire mage wipes his brow. ‘Wow! Let’s go!’

  25

  Meeting the Wizard

  Mercurius stations his soldiers on guard where the road enters Alderley Edge behind us to keep out any enemy attack. Then he leads on horseback up the flower-flanked path that winds through the pleasant woodland of Alderley Edge. We pass cottages with smiley old gardeners picking roses, and children playing with tabby kittens.

  It’s all very olde-worldly and twee, and very pleasant. The weather is springlike, and the only thing that is a downer on my mood is the scene of devastation behind me outside the boundaries of Alderley Edge, where the armies of the enemy have trashed a once green and pleasant land.

  Bernard and Tye and Fitheach are riding behind with our wagons. As we climb the hill, we come to a tavern called The Wizard.

  ‘He’s in there,’ Mercurius says.

  I’ve been catching up with Sir Luc about what he’s been up to since the fall of Camelot and he tells me that he and Mercurius headed south with the main forces of the King but were out harrying the enemy when the dome came down.

  We can’t see the dome from here in the woods, but I remember its shiny black shape, shifting with a dark energy. I ask him about it, ‘So, when did it appear?’

  Luc shakes his head. ‘About a game month ago. It just slammed down.’

  ‘And there’s no way in?’

  Mercurius joins the conversation as we come to a stop outside The Wizard tavern. ‘There’s a way in sure, and probably that’s a way out too.’ He dismounts, his steel-shod feet sparking off the cobblestones as he slides elegantly off his stallion. ‘Yes,’ he says, ‘There’s a gate, but that’s used by the enemy hordes to get in the dome and reach Caer. You heard that the outer walls are breached?’

  I nod gravely. ‘I heard. But the inner walls are holding?’

  ‘So far. I heard from Lancelot that they’re holding, but we can’t get supplies in so our guys are being worn down and the enemy seems to have a constant stream of new troops.' He shakes his head. ‘It’s a bad business.’

  There’s a weatherworn sign hanging on a black-painted iron bracket above the door. It shows a venerable and wise looking wizard standing with his staff against the painted background of Alderley Edge woods. It’s quite good, really. The tavern door is painted red, made of solid wood and has black iron studs in it to reinforce it. The windows of the tavern are mullioned glass, very like the diamond panes from the Witches’ Gingerbread Cottage, except these aren’t made of spun sugar. We step inside the tavern and the air is cool and smells of beer, wood-smoke and cooking meat.

  I say, ‘What are we doing here, Mercurius?’

  ‘We’ve come to meet the boss. This is where he hangs out.’

  The bartender, a red-faced NPC with a white shirt and leather apron looks up from behind the bar.

  ‘Merlin around?’ Mercurius asks.

  The NPC jerks a thumb behind him. ‘He’s in the garden.’

  I follow Mercurius and Luc through the ancient passages of the tavern, my guys tagging along behind, except for Bernard who’s gone to get a pint of foaming ale.

  We enter the bright sunlight of the walled garden. A tall stone wall surrounds the garden and at the bottom are apple and pear trees. There are vegetable beds that look to be growing leeks and onions and carrots. A tall man is feeding lettuce leaves to two fat tame rabbits. He turns round as we come into the garden.

  ‘Merlin, I’ve brought a visitor.’

  Merlin is a most striking looking man. He’s tall, with big eyebrows and a beard which are steel-grey. His eyes are dark brown like chestnuts and fix me with a bright stare. But his costume is the most striking. I’d always imagined wizards in grey robes, or maybe white, like Gandalf, with tall, floppy felt hats. Merlin has the tall floppy Gandalf hat, but it’s gold, not grey and his robes are gold lame, sparkling in the sun. He looks pretty gay too. Maybe it’s a thing for wizards: I think about Dumbledore and Saruman.

  Mercurius introduces me. Merlin gives me a very firm handshake and smiles. ‘I’ve heard about you, Sir Gorrow. You kept the flame of resistance alive in the North!’

  ‘Very much like yourself, sir,’ I say gesturing around. ‘Here at Alderley Edge.’

  He wags his finger. ‘But you’ve been fighting longer.’ Then his smile broadens. ‘What brings you here in these dark times?’

  Bernard has his pint in hand and he and the boys are standing with us now and Merlin greets them all. I say, ‘We’re here to help the King.’

  Merlin nods. ‘As are we all.’ With a tired look at Mercurius, he says, ‘The plan was to launch a counteroffensive from Alderley Edge. But there have been setbacks.’

  Mercurius frowns but doesn’t elaborate.

  I say, ‘Sir, we have something that may be of use in that.’

  Bernard looks at me suspiciously, but Merlin smiles with faint interest as if he believes there’s nothing I can bring that would help such a serious situation.

  ‘Yes,’ I continue. ‘We’ve brought two wagons. They’re outside the pub.’

  ‘Gorrow!’ Bernard shouts. Everyone looks at him and he grabs my elbow and drags me away. Merlin and Mercurius are looking at us with some curiosity now. ‘Gorrow,’ Bernard hisses. ‘Don’t spill our secrets.’

  I shake my head. ‘Merlin knows about the vorpal effect. It was him who told Lancelot in the first place and, if you remember, it was because of Lancelot’s information, that he got from Merlin that we went on the mission to get the Jabberwock.’

  Tye scratches his head.

  Bernard looks grim. He whispers, ‘Yes, but they don’t know that Jabberwock shit works as well as blood. And we are supposed to be saving all this for King Arthur.’

  ‘They are King Arthur’s closest men,’ I say.

  Merlin wanders over. ‘I’m now intrigued. Let’s see these wagons.’ He hears well for an old bloke.

  Bernard tries to hold him back. ‘Hang on, let’s just...’

  ‘Come on, Bernard,’ I say.

  ‘They’re glamoured anyway,’ Tye says.

  We all parade through the tavern to come out the front door where await the two wagons. To me they look like they’re carrying two steaming heaps of shit but Merlin sees right through the glamour. He puts a finger to his lip. ‘Interesting, smoky crystals.’

  I nod. He then goes over to the other waggon, that actually does contain shit. He reaches in, dabs the pile of poo with two fingers and brings it to his nose. Then he begins to laugh uproariously.

  ‘What?’ Tye asks.

  Merlin’s standing there, his gold-lame sides shaking and the top of his floppy gold hat bobbing up and down in time with his laugh
ter.

  ‘No, really, what’s so funny?’ Tye looks perplexed. Fitheach puts a comforting hand on the ginger mage’s shoulder.

  Merlin finally stops laughing, wiping the tears from his eyes with his clean hand, he says, ‘It’s Jabberwock poo. How clever you are, Gorrow. We always thought the essence had to be blood! Where did you get it?’

  Bernard’s mouth is fixed like he wants to keep his secrets but Fitheach says, ‘We got the Jabberwocks from Lindisfarne from St Cuthbert. They were his pets. Well, one was. These are from the eggs.’

  ‘Old Cuth! How’s he doing?’ Merlin asks.

  Fitheach shakes his head. ‘Not seen him since Lindisfarne.’

  ‘We think he might have gone up to Lothian. If he’s still playing,’ I say.

  ‘Anyway,’ Merlin says. ‘You have the two ingredients.’ He turns to Mercurius. ‘How many soldiers do we have?’

  Mercurius says, ‘The Congleton Infantry stand at a thousand, the light cavalry — the Sandbach Destroyers are three hundred and we have the Knutsford Grenadiers at five hundred. So eighteen hundred.’

  Merlin grins. ‘How would you like vorpal weapons for them all?’

  Bernard shakes his head and Merlin claps his hands. ‘You’re going to be very busy for a while, Master Alchemist.’

  26

  Vorpal Counterstrike

  Bernard isn’t happy, but by and by he gets round to the idea that Merlin and Mercurius are on our side. It helps that he’s known Mercurius since he entered the game and he’s always trusted him.