by Mary Yarde
Sampson had suggested that Merton should be spirited away to The Mount — a small island where a religious order had recently taken up residence. Merton would be safe there. He would find peace. Sampson had led a compelling argument, but at the end of the day, it would be up to Merton if he wanted a life of obscurity with no one but monks for company.
“Hey,” Alden said. He coughed to cover up the catch in his throat and walked further into the chamber.
Merton opened his eyes and smiled briefly as Alden stepped into the room.
“Did Budic say goodbye this morning?” Alden asked as he sat down next to his brother.
Merton did not grace that question with an answer. Why would Budic come and see him?
“Did Josephine?”
Again, Merton said nothing.
“I for one, am glad they are gone,” Alden spoke to fill the silence. “I don’t think I could have stood one more day in his company, and Annis was up to here, with Josephine’s whinging.”
“Where did they go?” Merton asked in a voice lacking any interest.
“Dyfed. Aergol has offered him sanctuary, which is far more than I was prepared to give him after…” Alden’s voice faded away. Merton did not need to know about the amount of trouble Budic had caused him.
When Alden refused to step aside for him, Budic declared he would take Cerniw by force. As soon as Budic had voiced his ambition, he found James’s knife at his throat.
“You and who’s army?” James had spat.
“Escort Lord du Lac back to his chamber, and there he will remain, for the rest of his life, if need be,” Alden had said.
Alden had promptly written to Aergol. Aergol and Budic were old friends, and if anyone knew how to handle Budic it was Aergol. Alden felt like a pressing weight had been lifted from his shoulders when Aergol replied, saying Budic was more than welcome. Aergol had then, in detail, told Alden exactly what he thought of him...it had been very scathing. If only he knew the truth, Alden had thought, maybe then, he would not be so quick to judge.
“I was going to ask you how you are feeling today, but you look bloody awful,” Alden observed.
Merton brushed off the concern. “Alden, I have something I need to tell you…” He had been preparing himself for this moment. Every day he had almost confessed, but then like a coward…he had hesitated. He couldn’t bring himself to speak the truth. The truth was too condemning, and if he lost Alden, then he would have lost everything.
“I work for Wessex.”
Merton spoke the words so quietly that Alden had to ask him to repeat himself.
When he did so, Alden stood and paced over to the empty fireplace.
“Why?” Alden asked, turning back to look at his brother.
Merton had expected to see anger or hurt, but Alden’s face was expressionless. Merton quickly looked down at the toy brick he still held in his hand.
“I tried to stop him…Wessex was…Wessex and his army…they were on the move again…they were coming…here.” Merton raised his head slowly; wincing as another stab of pain sliced through his chest. “We came to an agreement. Initially all he wanted was information about our allies, and then he wanted money. I paid him to stay away. I thought…” Merton laughed. “… I thought I was buying some time, but his greed has no boundaries. Whatever I paid him was never enough, and his threats became…uglier. Now that I am dead, I fear that he will invade. I have failed you yet again. I failed you all those years ago, and I have failed you now. I am sorry, the last thing I wanted to do was to put you or the kingdom in danger. I was trying to protect Cerniw. I was trying to protect you.”
“Merton,” Alden crossed the room and knelt down in front of him. “I knew about your deal with Wessex.”
“You knew?” Merton looked at Alden in confusion, “How? How…d…did you…how did you know?”
“There were rumours. At first, I refused to believe them. And then I feared you had betrayed me.”
“I would never betray you.”
“I didn’t want to believe it. So Annis told me not to. But for a while, the evidence was very condemning. But then one day, not so long ago, a messenger came here and asked to see me. He didn’t speak but um…” Alden stood and headed over to a chest. He lifted the lid and pulled out a document. “He handed me this.” Alden held the document out for Merton to take, but Merton did not raise his hand to take it.
“It is from Clovis,” Alden said looking down at it.
“Clovis?” Merton’s curiosity was piqued. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither did I until I had read the letter. You and Clovis know each other?”
“We don’t have the best of relationships. Clovis would like to place my head on a spike.”
“I don’t think so. Did you really believe that it was your cunning and good fortune that meant you crossed his army’s lines and reached Benwick safely? Clovis let you go. But why, Merton? Why? Why would he do that?”
Merton shook his head. “You make it sound like we just strolled through his ranks. It wasn’t like that. We had to kill to get those uniforms. We had to kill, to stay alive.”
“He could have slaughtered you all, but he didn’t. I’ll tell you why…you saved his life once.”
“I chose not to kill him. I wouldn’t call that saving his life.”
“He obviously does. Tell me about him.”
“Is that my King’s request?” Merton asked, and he held his breath as pain once again ripped through his body with all the force of a lightning bolt.
“If you want it to be,” Alden said, watching the pain in his brother’s face and wishing there was something he could do to help. “I am way past playing games, Merton. It is time we started being honest with each other.”
“Like you were honest about Amandine? You told me she was alive. I believed you.”
“I did what I had to do to keep you alive. I am not going to apologise for that and besides, it would never of worked between the two of you. It was a dream you should not have indulged in.”
Merton visibly flinched as if he had taken a violent blow. And Alden silently cursed himself.
“I’m sorry, Merton. That was cruel and uncalled for. I know you loved her, and I know we cannot always choose who we fall in love with.”
Merton held the brick Tanick had given him a little bit tighter. “I keep thinking about what those soldiers would have done to her.”
“You mustn’t think of it. It will drive you insane if you do,” Alden advised.
“Josephine told me she could hear her screams coming from the barracks. I swore that I would keep her safe. She trusted me, and I broke my oath. I failed her like I failed you. Like I failed Adèl. Like I failed Wann. I fail everyone, in the end, it seems.”
“Life doesn’t always work out the way we want it to. It is a cruel world.”
“I fear I am cursed.”
“I don’t believe that,” Alden said. “And don’t you dare believe it either. Merton, tell me about Clovis.”
“Clovis and I… we do have a history…but…I had just,” Merton closed his eyes and shook his head again. He had wanted to shield Alden from the truth. But now it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
“To join the ranks of Whitgar’s army, there was an initiation. I had to prove myself. Whitgar is not the type of man who takes his soldiers on merit — he wants proof. We went to a village. I can remember it being a baking hot day and I thought we had stopped for water, but water was the last thing on Whitgar’s mind. He told me that I had to…”
“Kill everyone.” Alden’s voice was soft.
“I can close my eyes and still picture it. The smell. The smoke. The screams. It’s as if the image has been branded into my mind forever. It will haunt me for the rest of my life, as it should do. It is right that I cannot forget.”
“What would have happened if you had refused his order?” Alden asked.
“Death, I should imagine. If there was any honour in me, I would have
sacrificed myself.”
“He would have burnt the village anyway,” Alden said.
“Maybe. When the flames began to take hold of that barn…Whitgar had laughed…and he had patted me on the shoulder like a child who had done a good deed.”
“In his eyes you did.”
“He then mounted his horse, and he and his men rode away. As soon as they were out of sight, I ran to the barn. The heat was so intense, and the flames were…God, the screams…I couldn’t get near it…there was nothing I could do. I didn’t intend for them to die. I thought…” he screwed up his eyes. “I was so stupid. I thought I was so clever. I thought…” he sighed deeply. “I remember screaming and falling to my knees. Clovis must have been watching…I didn’t know he was there, I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, but suddenly knights on horses surrounded me and there he was, the King of the Franks, his face like thunder. I saw some of his men run to the well, but by then the only sound coming from that barn was the noise of the fire eating the wood and the smell of burning flesh. They were too late.”
“Merton, I was wrong, this can wait. You are not up to this. You don’t have to say anymore.”
“I knew I was going to die,” Merton continued. “I deserved it. Clovis grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and dragged me to the village square. He was shouting at me in a language I didn’t understand, and I just closed my eyes and braced myself for whatever he was going to throw at me. I remember thinking about you and what my death would mean for you.”
“Your last thought was going to be of me?”
“Who else would I be thinking of?” Merton swiped at his tears with the back of his hand.
“Merton…”
“Lucky for me, Whitgar decided to come back and see what was keeping me. He was about as prepared to see Clovis and his knights as I was. But Whitgar isn’t the type of man who backs down from a challenge. Clovis unsheathed his sword, intending to kill me, but I was quick and rolled away — He should have killed me and then she would still be alive. They would all still be alive. All I had to do was die. Why didn’t I die?” His voice took on the edge of hysteria.
“Merton, stop it.” Alden grabbed his brother by the shoulders and held on tight. Merton looked into his brother’s face, the agony in his eyes made Alden’s heart falter. Alden dragged his brother into his embrace. “It’s all right,” he soothed. “It’s all right. You are going to be all right. That life is over now. You are safe. No one will ever make you do anything like that again. I swear.”
Merton pulled back a little, “I should have died.”
“Listen to me. You were not destined to die by Clovis’s hand, just like you were not destined to die by Philippe’s.”
“Yrre saw me on the ground and threw me a sword.” Merton shrugged slightly as he got back to his story.
“Don’t think of it. You need to rest.”
“I wounded him,” Merton continued, he needed to tell all now. “But then his soldiers came from behind me, and I had to…fight for my worthless life. Clovis slipped away. I caught a glimpse of him as he dragged himself away from the battle. He took shelter amongst the ferns at the edge of a small coppice. When the battle was almost over, I went to find him with the intention of killing him. But when I found him...I couldn’t bring myself to. I don’t know why not. He certainly was no friend of mine. My sword landed in the earth by his head, and we just stared at each other. I let everyone believe that he had escaped.”
Both men were silent for a while until Alden sighed. “Yrre threw you a sword to kill Clovis? He must care for you very much to do something like that.”
“I don’t follow. What do you mean?”
“That must have been hard for him,” Alden spoke as if he were talking to himself.
“Hard? Why? Alden, what are you on about?”
“The reason I know about you and Wessex and the reason Clovis knows about you and Wessex is because Yrre isn’t who he says he is.”
“I don’t understand. What are you talking about? Yrre is-”
“Yrre is…was, a spy.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“A good king knows what is going on in his neighbouring kingdoms. Clovis was wise enough to see the danger of Wessex, long before the rest of us really understood the bastard’s true intentions. He sent his bastard brother, Ansegisel, to Wessex, disguised as a soldier of fortune.”
“I don’t understand. What are you saying? That Yrre is the Frankish brother to a King? That is the most ludicrous thing that you have ever said. I know Yrre. He is a Saxon mercenary, nothing more and nothing less. He wouldn’t keep something like that from me. He would never betray me.”
“You are right. He would not. But, it does not change who he is…or what he was. Clovis has since disowned him, banished him from Frank on pain of death. Not that they had a good relationship in the first place. Yrre was brought up an only child, hidden away from the world like a dirty little secret. Back in the dungeons, Yrre said you were his brother. You are his family now.”
“But…that doesn’t make sense. Yrre is fluent in Saxon. He knows everything about their religion, and their way of life. He even fights like a Saxon. How can that be?”
“Read the letter. Everything will become clear then. But before you do, I have my own confession. While you have been away, I have been…busy. Busy securing the kingdom’s future.” Alden smiled, and his eyes gleamed with excitement. “If you recall the last time we saw you here, the mine at Madron had just started to yield tin. Well, several months ago she started yielding silver. A lot of silver. More than enough to strengthen the fortifications and to hire more soldiers…soldiers like your men, like Yrre. Wessex will attack, as will Mordred. Maybe they will attack together. Let them. Let them come, because we will be ready for them.”
“Can you remember what you once said to me…you said we would make this kingdom strong together, now you thought that meant going to war to win money and maybe a year ago it did, but not anymore. I sent messengers out to find you the day Budic’s ship anchored on our shore bearing the sad news of Anna’s death. I wanted you home — for good, this time. This is your home. The past is in the past we cannot right the wrongs, we cannot change it as much as we may want to. I know you didn’t want to kill those people in that barn — and I know if you could have saved them, then you would have.”
“I was responsible for their deaths.”
“You were afraid. You were afraid for me, for Annis, for Cerniw, for yourself. Fear is an evil master, and when we are under its control, we do things that under normal circumstances we wouldn’t do. Believe me, I have lived under her yoke. I know what I am talking about. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
Merton began to shake, and he shook his head, “It is not that simple.”
“Yes. It is. God will forgive you. Sampson is quite adamant on the subject of God’s mercy. He believes you have been spared for a reason and so do I.”
“I don’t seek God’s forgiveness,” Merton said. “Only yours.”
“Mine? Well, then, you have it. I forgive you.”
“How can you forgive me? Too many have died by my hand.”
“Then I carry the weight of their deaths on my shoulders as well. We will carry the burden together. We will look after each other like we have always done.” Alden forced a smile. “Santo tells me you haven’t been eating.”
“I have no appetite.” Merton returned, his eyes not leaving his brother’s face. Dare he believe in forgiveness?
“You have to make yourself eat and then your appetite will return. I need you, Merton. You are my brother. You are my right hand-”
“Left actually, I no longer have a right one.”
Alden laughed. “Yes, that is what I meant.” He was pleased when he saw what appeared to be a genuine smile, pull at Merton’s lips. “I missed you.”
“Well, you seem to be stuck with me now.”
“How will I cope?” Alden asked and was pleased to see M
erton smile once more. He had never thought he would see his brother smile again, and this was twice in the space of a heartbeat — perhaps there was hope, after all.
“Galahad?” You have chosen to take the name Galahad?” Alden questioned, raising his eyebrows, determined to hold on to the lighter mood. “Where the hell did you come up with a name like that?”
“That wasn’t my idea. That was Yrre…Ansegisel.”
“I think he prefers the name Yrre.”
“A Frankish prince?” Merton sighed, how could he have missed it? Looking back, all the signs were there. Yrre was too noble for a mercenary.
“A Frankish bastard,” Alden corrected. “But a patriot of Cerniw, nonetheless. You were saying about your new name…”
“Yes. Um…Yrre had heard something about a Christian Saint who ascended to heaven. I know. I know. It is the worst possible name for someone like me. But Yrre seemed quite adamant that I take it. His sense of humour takes some getting used to.”
Merton shifted uncomfortably in his chair as that invisible pain shot straight through his shin. He stretched his leg out, trying to make himself comfortable.
“I suppose I had better get used to calling you Galahad,” Alden said as he watched Merton struggle with his pain. Merton’s pain should be lessening, but instead, it seemed to be getting worse. Had Santo missed something?
“I don’t think you are going to have to get used to it at all,” Merton sighed softly. “I don’t feel right, Alden. Every so often I feel like someone is stabbing me. I can pinpoint where the blade goes in and where it leaves. It is only a matter of time before the blade pierces my heart.”
“Have you told Santo?”
“I have told him, yes. He says it will pass. But this is my body. I know how I feel. I think I am dying.”
“You are not going to die,” Alden’s voice trembled with emotion. Alden had heard of such things. Strange afflictions that came on suddenly and could cripple a man. Some called them curses. Maybe Merton was right. Maybe he was cursed. He needed to talk to Sampson. The monk, young as he was, was knowledgeable and wise. If there were curses at work here, then Sampson would know how to counter them.