Artr stares at him for a moment. He pulls the spear back. Everyone watches with anticipation. Then Artr brings the end of the spear around to slap his brother on the side of the head again. Elgar passes out.
Beside me, Merlin says, “We’ve found our warrior.”
Chapter 13: The Trial, Part 3
We don’t have gymnasiums or even weights to lift, so I have to rely on more primitive methods to train young Artr’s body. As he runs, he carries two baskets of rocks on a yoke around his neck. Just watching him makes me tired.
“Keep at it, boy. It’s not time to quit yet,” I shout at him.
“I don’t see why I need to do this,” Artr says. “I beat Elgar, the strongest man in the village. Haven’t I proven myself?”
“That’s not for me to say. The master says you need to get stronger and faster if you’re going to fight the demon, so that’s what we’re going to do. Now come on, no loafing.”
“Why can’t I fight him now? I’m ready.”
“That’s not for me to say either. I’m sure when the master thinks you’re ready, he’ll let you go. Me, I would be grateful. No sense hurrying to your execution.”
“You think he’s going to kill me?”
“I would almost guarantee it. Now, keep those legs moving. We still have a lot of work ahead of us.”
The boy shuts up and runs with the makeshift weights. I expect him to collapse any minute, but he keeps going. Maybe the master is right about the strength of the boy’s heart. “It is the strongest muscle in the body,” Merlin said. He was the first to figure that out.
“Still seems on the scrawny side to me,” I said.
“That is why you must train him. Prepare his body for the Demon.”
“I’ll try.”
Once I decide I’ve tormented the boy enough for a little bit, we rest beside a creek. I give him some bread and dried mutton to snack on. We didn’t have all those protein shakes and so forth back then either.
“What’s this demon like?” Artr asks.
“Can’t say. I’ve never met him.”
“But Merlin has. Didn’t he say anything?”
“He only said the demon is someone you don’t want to trifle with. That’s why we need to make sure you’re ready.”
“How will you know I’m ready if you don’t know who he is?”
“We’ll let the master decide that. For now you just keep at it.”
We work at it for two weeks. I can see the results in the boy’s muscles. It’s not much difference, but he’s definitely lost the baby fat, his body lean and hard. At night he stays in my hut in the forest, in large part so he won’t have to be near his parents. Things have been a bit tense since the tournament, after which the chief banished Elgar from the village. The brute swore revenge on his way out.
I can tell this weighs heavily on Artr as he pretends to sleep. He finally rolls over to look at me. “What do you suppose will happen to Elgar?”
“He’ll find himself some other village. The master says there are plenty of them around these parts.”
“He promised he’d take revenge. What if he tries to hurt Mother or Father?”
“Then you’ll have to stop him.”
“What if I don’t survive against this demon? Then who will take care of them?”
“If you lose against the demon, then none of us will be safe. Now go to sleep, lad. We have a lot of work ahead of us.”
When I wake up in the morning, he’s not in the hut. I don’t find him outside either. I call his name, but he doesn’t answer. I curse at myself and try to think of what to tell Merlin now that I’ve lost our great warrior. I should have known from the way he was talking last night he had started to get second thoughts.
I head to the lean-to Beaux keeps for her and the sheep. I hear her voice as I get close. She’s laughing. This is followed by a man’s laughter. That backstabbing wench! As I stomp towards the lean-to, I wish I’d brought a dagger to slice this man’s throat.
“Now see here—” I begin, but stop when I see it’s Artr with Beaux. They’ve both got their clothes on. Artr has a lamb in his lap; he’s trying to get the animal to drink some milk from a bowl.
“Oh, hello, Marlin. I went out for a walk and ran into Beaux. She’s showing me how to care for the lambs.”
“We’re supposed to be training you as a warrior, not a shepherd.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yes, well, give that mangy creature back to Beaux and then we can get to work.”
“Hold on,” Beaux says. “He’s almost finished with it. In the meantime, let’s go outside to talk.”
We wander off into the forest so Artr can’t hear us. Then I say, “Are you daft, woman? Why are you teaching him about shepherding? You know what he needs to do.”
“He’s scared, that’s why. Can’t say as I blame him. That master of yours has put the whole world on this boy’s shoulders, all because he won’t do his fighting for himself.”
“He can’t destroy the Demon on his own. If he could, I’m sure he would.”
“I’m sure,” Beaux says and rolls her eyes. “Or maybe he’s a coward like his apprentice.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you two are using this poor boy to do your dirty work.”
“There’s nothing I can do about it. He won the tournament. If he wasn’t ready, then he shouldn’t have insisted upon entering.”
Beaux sighs. “Fine. But for his sake, don’t push him so hard.”
“In a few weeks it’ll be over. Then he can come out here and play with lambs.”
I brush past Beaux and stomp back to the lean-to. The lamb is finishing the last of the milk. Artr sets it on the ground and then pats its head. He looks up at me. “I suppose we should get back to work.”
Chapter 14: Demon Army
In those days there wasn’t much in the way of roads. The Romans wouldn’t come along to start paving things for nearly two thousand years. Since there wasn’t much in the way of trade between villages, there weren’t even dirt paths to follow. The closest thing to roads were paths carved by wild animals during their migration.
Elgar had become another wild animal. When his father had banished him, he had been allowed to take his spear, his club, and a pelt for warmth. That was more than he allowed me to take, I might add.
For weeks Elgar wandered the countryside and plotted his revenge. He knew he couldn’t simply charge back into the village. He might be able to sneak in at night, but that wasn’t how he wanted to do things. He didn’t want to obtain power by crawling into the village on his hands and knees in the darkness. He wanted everyone to see him seize power.
To do that, he would need an army. In order to find such an army, he needed to locate another village. That was easier said than done.
He survived by drinking what water he could find in creeks, streams, and rivers and killing any game that crossed his path. It should be no surprise that for an exile, Elgar lived pretty high off the hog. He didn’t have to dine on squirrels he scavenged from the ground. Though my tiny cave was better than sleeping on the ground, especially when it rained.
As luck would have it, he didn’t need to find a village. One evening as he sought a place to rest, he saw a group of fires. Elgar wasn’t stupid enough to run over and introduce himself. He crept up on the camp and watched it from afar.
There were about forty men, most of them as big as Elgar. They all had the hairy, scarred look of ruffians, just the sort Elgar would gravitate to. He couldn’t understand what they said around their fire, but he did recognize the one in the dog-shaped headdress. From what I had told him, he knew this was the Black Demon. You remember that expression, “An enemy of my enemy is my friend?”
Elgar decided to announce his presence in dramatic fashion. He crept up behind one of the ruffians and then seized him by the shoulders. Before anyone could react, Elgar snapped the man’s neck. Then he tossed the man aside and stared at the Demon.
“I know you,” Elgar said. “I also know who it is you seek.”
The Demon’s eyes blazed red. “Indeed? Who are you?”
“I am Elgar, son of Uthr. I know you seek Merlin. I can take you to him.”
“Why do you think I need your help to find him? Long have I traveled at my master’s bidding. Many are the men I’ve slain along the way. Perhaps I will add you to their number,” the Demon said. He flexed his hands so Elgar could see the bear claws.
“Merlin is preparing for you. I can tell you his plan.”
“He is a feeble creature. His plans do not concern me.”
“He has fashioned a weapon to kill you. A spear. I know the man—the boy—who will carry it against you.”
“You still have not told me why I should let you live.”
“I want revenge on the village, on my brother, and on Merlin. If you will have me, I know I can have all three.”
“And what do you want in return?”
“I ask nothing but the chance to cut out my father’s heart and show it to him while he still lives.”
The Demon stared at Elgar for a moment. Then he nodded. “You may join us. You will lead me to Merlin and then you will have your vengeance. And I will have my prize.”
Elgar took his place at the fire. The other men glared at him, but they said nothing. Now that he had the Demon’s favor, none would dare to cross him. With a smile, Elgar envisioned his revenge.
Chapter 15: Baptism By Fire
Once Merlin deems Artr ready, he gives the boy the golden spear again. “This is the Spear of Justice. With it you can smite your enemies. Nothing from this world can stand in its way.”
“Including the Demon?”
“Especially the Demon.” Then Merlin brings out the rest of the outfit: a tunic, loincloth, and leather helmet all dyed the color of dried blood. “This is your armor. I’m afraid not even my power can make it invulnerable to the Demon’s claws. It will protect you from any mortal weapons.”
“That’s something, I suppose,” Artr mumbles.
“The helmet will also allow you to see the darkness as clear as day.”
Merlin takes out a pair of golden boots, something unheard-of in that day and age. The boots had belonged to Heph, who wore them while he worked at the forge to avoid burning his feet. He had an extra pair that along with the tunic and loincloth he could donate to Merlin, who did the enchantments on them.
“These will protect your feet and allow you to walk great distances without discomfort or fatigue. They will help you move faster and jump farther than any mortal man.”
“They’re beautiful.”
We take the whole outfit into the forest so Artr can practice with it. He has trouble with the boots; he keeps tripping over them, unused to such footwear. We stay out one night so he can use the helmet. “This is amazing! It really is clear as day. You have to try this—”
“No!” Merlin says. “No one else may wear the armor of the Scarlet Warrior.”
“Scarlet Warrior?”
“That is what you will be called,” Merlin says.
“Why scarlet?”
“It was the only color available,” Merlin says and for once he sounds testy. “Anyone unworthy who tries to wear the armor will forfeit his life.”
“That includes me?” I ask.
“I’m afraid so. Only Artr may use any part of the armor.”
Artr is practicing with his spear when Merlin closes his eyes. “Is something wrong, my master?” I ask.
“I fear the Demon has arrived.”
***
Merlin vanishes us to the village, where we find his fears realized. Except it’s not just the Black Demon; he’s got a whole army of ruffians with him. They run about, screaming and butchering the men of the village, who were caught unawares.
I barely duck in time to avoid an axe taking off my head. Artr brings the Spear of Justice around to run it through the man’s midsection. He collapses to the ground; he won’t be getting up again.
I don’t have a weapon or magic powers, so I crawl into the nearest hut to hide. I watch as Artr and Merlin dispatch the invaders. With the Spear of Justice and the augmented strength and quickness from the armor, Artr is more than a match for the ruffians. Merlin focuses on getting the villagers to safety.
Nowhere do I see the Black Demon. What is he up to? Why have his minions attack the village if he’s not here to kill Merlin? Unless they aren’t his minions.
I hear a scream and then see the chief’s wife fly out of his hut. A moment later, Elgar stomps out of the hut, dragging his father behind him. The chief has already been beaten senseless, his face and chest stained with blood.
Artr kicks aside another of the ruffians and then turns to his brother. “What are you doing, Brother?” he shouts.
“I have come for my revenge. You will not stop me.”
“I must. It is my duty to protect these people. I am the Scarlet Warrior.”
“You are a fool. The conjurer saved you the first time, but this time I will destroy you. Though I will make sure you live long enough to watch me cut out our father’s heart.”
Artr lunges forward. Elgar manages to bat aside the Spear of Justice and then hit Artr with a haymaker. It hurts Elgar more than Artr. The Scarlet Warrior brings the spear back around to whack Elgar in the side. He tumbles to the ground. As in the tournament, he levels the spear at his brother’s neck. The point of it begins to glow.
“The glow means his heart is evil,” Merlin explains.
“Is there no hope for my brother?”
“That is for you to decide, Artr. The responsibility is yours.”
Artr looks down at his brother and then over at his parents. His mother has crawled over to his father to cradle his broken body. “I’m sorry, Mother. I must deprive you of a son.”
He jams the spear through Elgar’s neck.
From the top of a hill, we hear the sound of laughter. Even without a magic helmet, I can see the glow of the Demon’s eyes. “This is only the beginning, Merlin. If you want the rest of the villagers alive, you will have to return to your master.”
We do an inventory of the villagers and find seventeen missing—all women and children. Merlin pats my arm and then adds, “I’m afraid Beaux is among them.”
Chapter 16: Aftermath
Though I should trust Merlin—he is my master, after all—I run into the forest to make sure. Her lean-to is unoccupied. I find some of the sheep wandering around, untended. She really must be gone. What was she doing in the village?
“She wasn’t in the village,” Merlin says. “He came here on his own to take her.”
“Why?”
“Because he knows you’ll come after her.”
“You’re damned right I will! I’ll follow her to the underworld itself.”
He puts a hand on my shoulder to steady me. “That won’t be necessary. Not if we’re careful. He’s not going to kill her until he has to.”
“Then let’s go! Vanish us to wherever he’s keeping her.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can! You’re Merlin! Wave your hand and let’s go!”
He smiles at me like I’m a small child who’s done something amusing. “I misspoke. I could vanish us there, but that would be foolish. We saw only a portion of his army. The rest are with the prisoners. If we simply vanish into their midst, things will get bloody. We must take our time, wait for the right opportunity to strike.”
“That’s all well and good, but it’s not your woman he’s got, is it?”
“That’s very true, which is why you must trust me. You aren’t thinking clearly.”
“Why shouldn’t I be? I love her!” It’s at that point I realize I haven’t said that to Beaux in a long time. I really ought to have. “I’m sorry, master. I’ll do what you ask.”
“Good, my friend. Gather some supplies. We will head out after them as soon as possible.”
“Can’t you just conjure us up some
food?”
“I could, but Artr needs a few moments. His father is dying.”
“The chief is dying? Can’t you save him?”
“His soul has already crossed into the underworld. Only a shell of his body remains.”
“Oh, I see. I suppose I’ll go gather some supplies then.”
***
Artr takes off his helmet so he can watch his father die with his own eyes. Though it’s not very warriorly, he starts to cry. He leans against his mother for support. “I’m sorry, Father. I couldn’t save you.”
His mother squeezes his shoulder. “You did what you could, son.”
“It wasn’t enough. I should have been here. I should have protected him.” Artr looks down at the ground.
“Your father was proud of you. He knew what a strong and wise ruler you will become.”
“I don’t deserve to be chief. A man who can’t protect his family shouldn’t rule.”
“There’s no way you could have known what would happen. You’re not a conjurer—”
“You see!” Greetha shrieks. She gestures to the fallen bodies with one of her dried bones. “This is what happens when you consort with outsiders! See what this Merlin has brought you! Ruin!”
Artr gets to his feet. He clutches the Spear of Justice. “Leave this place, old woman. You are not welcome here.”
“But she’s right,” Bleeth’s wife says. She squats beside her dead husband. “This never would have happened if we hadn’t allowed that outsider here.”
“If we hadn’t, then we all would have died of plague,” Artr says. “This woman isn’t a conjurer or a healer. She’s a fraud!”
But more of the villagers join in with Bleeth’s wife and voice support for Greetha. “The chief was a fool to trust Merlin,” one says.
Artr turns on the woman. “How dare you speak ill of my father before his body is even cold! My father was a wise and noble ruler. He allowed Merlin to stay because he knew this fraud wouldn’t save us.”
“Maybe he caused the plague,” someone else says. “He brought it here with him from the outside.”
“Nothing like this ever happened before he showed up.”
Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Call Page 85