Merlin's Kiss

by Stephanie Burke

  MERLIN’S KISS

  An Ellora’s Cave publication written by

  STEPHANIE BURKE

  Chapter One

  "Run Arthur, run!" Brieana screamed as they raced through the crowded encampment that had sprung up around the famous sword.

  "If you hadn't called Lord DeLacy an ass-eared lout," the voice behind her whined, "we would not be running!"

  "Arthur! If you had stood up for me," she panted between words as she ducked behind another fall of rocks, "I never would have had to defend myself!"

  "We need to hide!" the pale young man gasped. "I wish I had never thought to take you for a walk in the moonlight."

  "You are right about hiding," she groused as they ran past still another stone formation, ignoring his less than complimentary comment. "Behind there!" she cried as she grabbed his hand and darted behind a particularly large boulder. "We need a weapon."

  "Well, we would not need one if you had not kicked him in the privates!" he whined again.

  Absently spying the hilt of an abandoned sword embedded in the rocks of a rise, Brieana ran to it and with deft fingers, began to probe the sword base.

  "I would not have kicked him if he had not grabbed my person."

  Golden-haired Arthur scurried up the hill behind her. "Whatever you are doing, do it faster!" he urged. "I can hear them coming. He must have the whole garrison with him."

  Giving him one last disgusted look, Brieana gave one mighty yank and the abandoned sword pulled abruptly from its rocky sheath.

  "And what do you think to do with that?" Arthur sneered at her while pushing an unruly lock of hair behind his ear and looking down his nose at her.

  "Well, you are supposed to be the mighty warrior," she growled losing patience with him at last. "You use it!"

  With that, she shoved the sword into his hands and began to count the seconds before he would turn to her for help.

  Not everyone knew it, but Arthur was the weakest swordsman in the area. And for the hundredth time, Brieana wondered why she dressed in the armor of the Black Knight to save his sorry hide in battle.

  Then she took another good look at him as the moonlight illuminated his near perfect features, and she remembered. She was a fool for good looks and a great body. Certainly she did not risk her very life time and time again for his mental acuity.

  Even as he began to turn to thrust the sword into her smaller, albeit more capable hand, DeLacy and his men appeared at the base of the hill and froze in their places.

  "Excalibur!" he shouted in shock, and soon the murmurs and cries of him and his men drew the rest of the encamped warriors to view the new king of the Britons. "Arthur has drawn Excalibur from the sacred stone! All hail Arthur, King of the Britons!

  As one, the assembled warriors dropped to their knees to pay homage to the one who would be king. Arthur looked puzzled for only a moment. He was a little dense, not stupid. He thrust the sword high into the night sky.

  "Excalibur!" he roared as he shoved Brieana behind him, nearly knocking her down in his eagerness.

  "But I…" As Brieana began to protest, strong hands grasped her shoulders and spun her around.

  "My Lord Merlin!" she gasped as she turned to view the powerful mage. "I was just going to…"

  "All hail Arthur!" he boomed in a loud authoritative voice.

  Brieana had always respected the older man as her friend and Arthur's mentor. She had often thought him quite handsome and charming, with a deep sense of justice. He would help her.

  "My Lord," she said louder as he drew her away from the prostrating men. "I drew Excalibur from the stone." As she thought about that fact, she came to a startling but wonderful realization. "I am King, uh, Queen of the Britons! I am the true ruler!" Then turning excitedly to Arthur, she cried, "I am Queen! Tell them, Arthur!"

  Then Arthur was faced with a difficult decision. A decision many great men have been forced to make. He looked at Brieana's luscious lips and then to the men kneeling before him. Love or power? He stared at her long curling hair, as dark as raven's wings, and her almond-shaped, green cat's eyes, then to the teeming mass of masculinity that knelt at his feet ready to do any and all of his bidding. He looked back and saw love and a little fear reflected in her beautiful eyes, eyes that begged him to do the right thing. Love, or power? He knew what he had to do.

  Facing the crowd, he declared in a ringing voice, "By right of strength and virtue…I, Arthur, have drawn Excalibur from the stone. I am king!"

  "Nooo!"

  The fierce roar of approval emanating from the new king's army drowned out Brieana's scream of denial.

  "My Lord Merlin!" she cried desperately as she ran to the sage, tripping over gravel and kicking up dust, and pulled on the sleeve of his long tunic. "You know the truth! I do not lie! Please tell them!" she begged as she looked into his bottomless black eyes.

  Slowly, he turned away from her.

  "Let us leave our 'new king' for now. We have much to discuss." Then to the crowd, "Leave us!"

  Shocked, she stared at the back of the man, her closest friend, her confidant, in horror. Betrayed! Those who she had held closest to her, those that she had trusted, had betrayed her.

  Angry? She was pissed! How dare they keep her rightful kingdom from her?

  Manipulated! It all now made perfect sense. She had been manipulated by the master.

  "You knew, My Lord Merlin." Wide eyed, Brieana faced a most painful truth. "That is why you planted the idea of a moonlight walk in Arthur's head with your talk of how beautifully the moon shines down upon the mountains. You planned this!" Her voice broke as she made her accusations, her pain becoming audible and dreadful to bear.

  With a tired sigh, Merlin nodded his head. Resigned, he motioned to his adopted son. "Come here, Arthur."

  "Why did you not tell them?" she railed at her former beau. "I drew the sword from the stone!" Shock had leached all of the color from her face, but anger had returned it with a vengeance.

  "A mere girl like you?" he all but smirked.

  "Hush!" Merlin's voice thundered across the now empty land. Turning to Brieana, he calmly replied, "Arthur could not have drawn Excalibur from the stone. That would have taken true strength of character."

  Proudly, Arthur nodded and looked down his nose at Brieana as the insult flew over his beautiful, but nearly empty head.

  Disgusted, Merlin shook his head before turning to Brieana.

  "What is done shall remain done. There is now no way to alter this course."

  "And that is that!" Arthur added with a self-righteous smirk.

  "Insolent pup!" Merlin roared. "Guard your tongue, boy! She has saved your ungrateful backside in battle as the Black Knight and has made you a hero in the process."

  Arthur looked blank for a moment, then his eyes snapped back to Brieana as a dull red highlighted his cheeks.

  "I was wrong about DeLacy," Brieana stated with the last of her anger. "Arthur, you truly are the ass-eared lout."

  Then she turned to Merlin in confusion.

  "But why, My Lord Merlin? You, who always counseled us to follow the truth and right way of things. But then you…you…"

  This final betrayal of trust did what no insult or warrior could do. Tears welled up in her green eyes and rolled down her face.

  "I had so many dreams. You even encouraged me to put them to paper and not miss the slightest detail. My Lord, why?"

  The strength leaving her limbs, Brieana sank to the rocky ground and cried silent tears.

  Merlin sighed with true regret. He hated using people and cursed the necessity of it this time. Because of him, the strongest person on this whole accursed island cried, defeated and broken, at his feet. His heart ached as he looked at her bent form. No more! No more manip
ulations.

  "My Lord Merlin…"

  "Brieana," he began to explain as he bent to cradle her cold still form to his shoulder. "They never would have accepted a woman. Not in this day and in this age. They would only follow a man. And since there was no one else available, I chose Arthur."

  "But what about my dreams, My Lord? To finally have something of my own?" she rasped in a gravely voice. "I have nothing now, no home, no family, for Arthur surely would not want me now!" She remembered the look on his face as he found out who was protecting him in battle. She gestured to the 'new king' who was preening and fighting off an imaginary beast with the most powerful weapon of their time. "I have nothing!"

  Merlin knew that she was right. He had neglected to plan for this eventuality while he sought to secure the future of the land.

  "I have lost what was destined to be mine by birth and by legend. Then you tell me it is because I was born a woman? What about my round table, my society of honest and noble warriors? I am a woman, yet you admired my ideas as I wrote them down and presented them to you! You, who taught me warfare, admired my knights and their laws modeled after the truths that you yourself taught me after my family perished at the hands of unsavory warriors. You, who taught me justice; is this justice? Justice is denied me!" Dismay filled her as she mentally whirled in a volley of conflicting emotions. "Where is your justice now?"

  "I have wronged you," Merlin admitted. "Now I will try to right that wrong and deliver to you some measure of justice."

  He rose to his feet and moved away from her. In a loud voice he cried, "Rock of Ages!"

  After a moment, a rough gravely voice boomed from everywhere, and yet nowhere, "Ah, Merlin, my good friend! It is good to see you. It seems just yesterday when you requested that I hold onto the Lady of the Lake's gift to you, until an honest and true leader and warrior appeared. I can see that she stands beside you. Yes, she is a true leader of men."

  At the sound of the booming voice, Arthur immediately ran to stand behind Merlin and fearfully looked over his mentor's shoulder at the mountain.

  "I thank you, my friend, but I find that I must ask another boon of you."

  "Anything, my friend!"

  "The world is not ready for a female leader, not ready to take orders from a woman."

  "This is true, my friend. In all of the time that I have existed, no man has yet to heed advice from a woman. Many a great battle could have easily been won or avoided by listening to the counsel of a woman. The centuries meld together in my mind, my friend, but what you say is true. I may cease to exist before a woman is allowed to rule."

  "A sad fact, my friend," Merlin commiserated. "But in seeing to the future of the Britons, I have wronged this one. I may never live to see a time when a woman is respected enough to hold so strong a power, but with your help Brieana, the true sovereign of Briton, will. Please take and hold her in safety until a time when she will be given the recognition and honor that she deserves. Hold her safely until that day."

  "It will be done, my friend."

  As Brieana's gasp of fright filled the air, Merlin added another request. "Also, let only a man of equal strength, honesty, power, loyalty," and looking over his shoulder at the cowering Arthur, he added quite loudly, "and courage release her!"

  "It is done, my friend," spoke the mountain.

  Shocked speechless by what was unfolding before her, Brieana was easily pulled to her feet and maneuvered to the edge of a silently appearing precipice. After mumbling a low incantation, Merlin pulled a golden torc, seemingly from thin air, and held it up so that she could see the rubies and emeralds that studded its surface. Reverently, he pulled her long dark hair aside and placed the torc around her neck. As it touched her bare skin, Brieana felt a shock that shot from the top of her head down to her toes, but she had no time to dwell upon that curious phenomenon, for Merlin began speaking.

  "I apologize, My Lady, and now seek to right the wrong that I have foisted upon you this day. I have tried to give you more than I have taken away from you. In truth, I pray that you can forgive me, my heart. Now Brieana, I seek to make your dreams come true."

  With that, he muttered something under his breath and pulled her into his arms for a passionate kiss involving searching tongues and firm masculine lips. Arthur coughed nervously behind them as Merlin ravaged his former intended's mouth. He broke the kiss as Brieana began to respond, and tenderly brushed a lock of curling hair from her face.

  "Be happy," he whispered, before pitching her over the edge.

  "Merrlinnn!" she screamed as she fell, only to be caught in an amazingly soft, yet strong stone hand that had reached out of the heart of the mountain itself. Immediately, Brieana fell into a deep sleep, compliments of Merlin's extraordinary kiss, as the hand gently fisted around her and rejoined with the cold hard stone of the mountain.

  "It is done, my friend," the voice boomed. "She will sleep until the proper time. Fare thee well, my friend." The voice faded as absolute silence filled the land.

  Merlin walked over to Arthur and closed his hanging jaw with a snap of his fingers. As he steered his pupil away from the mountain, he reached within his robes and pulled out a small bound book.

  "What is that, Merlin?" Arthur asked, still a little frightful and looking over his shoulder at the mountain range growing smaller and smaller with every step.

  "A final gift from Brieana," he answered.

  "I thought that you liked her. The way that you kissed her…"

  "More than I like you, at the moment," came his reply.

  Finally, Arthur let out in a rush, "If you liked her, why did you imprison her in stone?"

  "Insolent cub! Yes, I liked her, and you saw what was done to her. Imagine what I could do to you! I merely attempted to correct a wrong that I had foisted onto her for the good of the island. You would do well to learn from her example. Now read that journal!"

  After a quick perusal of the text, Arthur snorted and turned to his teacher.

  "Cam-e-lot? Who would name a kingdom Camelot? It sounds like a disease only cows or sheep could get! Better yet, the name of a really good harlot! Camelot! Who ever heard of a kingdom named Camelot?"

  * * * * *

  In the distant future…

  Kerian growled his frustration as he followed the trail of the winged monster that sought to evade the seasoned warrior. He had been tracking the beast and still the drack managed to elude him. Now he was irritable and tired as the sun began to set and cold night to emerge.

  "You had to hide in these accursed mountains!" the warrior murmured as he stopped to lean against a bolder.

  This particular drack had slaughtered a few of his chums—a small grazing animal that was a cross between an ancient cow and a sheep—before making good its escape to the mountainous regions that surrounded his castle. If the drack reached its home nest, it would tell others in its coven where chums could easily be had, and soon he would be overrun by a horde of the hungry beasts.

  Kerian did not want that to happen; he also did not want to spare the men needed to hunt down the winged lizard, so he alone was chasing down the fleeing beast himself.

  No one had ever been this high in the mysterious Dark Mountains before, and he did not relish being the first. Uncorking a water bottle from his waist, he tilted his head back and let the cool water flood his parched throat. Damp tendrils of snow-white hair dried on his forehead as the cooling night winds blew down the gravel path.

  He should make his soldiers climb the mountain for exercise, he thought as he capped the bottle and reattached it to his rawhide warrior's belt that encircled his slim hips. Again standing at his full height, he lazily stretched his broad back, enjoying the pull of firm solid muscles as they moved beneath his dark bronze skin. His amber eyes flashed with excitement as he again took up the trail left by the lizard. He might have despised the circumstances that forced him to the hunt once again, but the great Warlord loved the chase.

  He walked a few more paces before he
spotted the purple hide of the drack he sought.

  His lips stretched into a full grin as the lizard turned and caught sight of him in the waning sunlight. With a shriek of fear, it took off up the mountainside.

  With a roar, Kerian pulled his sword from the sheath on his back and took off after the drack. Adrenaline gave his booted feet new lift as he leaped over small boulders and large rocks. His muscles burned as he pistoned his leather-clad legs faster and faster.

  His eyes caught sight of the six-foot-long creature's tail as it dashed into a small cave. With a shout of triumph, he exploded into the cave and straight down as the ground sharply gave way.

  "Schlat!" His voice echoed around the small tunnel as he tumbled head over heels, only to land in a heap of brown leather and white hair.

  Remembered training had him tossing away his sword as he fell, but still the five-foot razor-sharp blade landed inches away from his head.

  He groaned and looked up to see the drack circling above him, hissing in laughter as it glided on pastel colored wings.

  Slowly climbing to his feet, he took a moment to dust off his sleeveless leather war vest and leggings before retrieving his still quivering weapon.

  With quiet dignity, he examined the many cuts and abrasions that now covered his arms and chest. Finding no serious wounds, he looked up at the drack and smiled.

  "The first battle to you, my brother. Now be warned that I shall sew my new leggings from your purple hide."

  The drack seemed to falter for a moment while it took in the measure of the man it faced. This was no green fighter seeking glory by bringing home a drack skin. This was a warrior who meant every word he said and looked to have the skill to carry out his threat. Landing at the top of the shallow gorge, the purple lizard leaned in for a closer look at the man.

  What matter a few chum? it thought as it stared into the unusual amber eyes of the man.

  "What is mine, I protect," the man answered.

  With a gasp, the lizard stumbled back a few paces before gaining control of itself.

  You hear me? it cautiously questioned as it skittered back to the ledge to peer at the man.