“I, Cantus, smell king on this one,” it said in a voice distorted by its armor. “It even looks like your Uther.”
Merlin didn’t move. “What do you want, Cantus? We have no quarrel with you.”
“But you do! I am Bruin of Cantus XII, scout and loyal subject of Hengist, and your Uther murdered Horsa, my comrade and brother in arms.” He drew himself up to a staggering seven and a half feet, dwarfing Merlin in front of him. The baby rested on the ground between them, simpering.
“And what have you come here for? Revenge? Give me the baby. He’s done nothing wrong.”
Bruin laughed again in that dark, distorted way. Merlin noticed the metallic wings on his back which must have been for flying. They were attached to him by his armor, which plated every inch of his muscled body, including his long, twitching tail.
“This thing is the next Uther and cannot live. None of you murderers can live!” He made a grab for the baby.
Merlin shot his hand out, feebly blocking the large being’s massive hand. “Do not touch him! I warn you, Cantus. You who go by your planet’s name, you know something of unity. You are all one on Cantus. So are we on Camelot. This may be Uther’s son, and Uther may have killed this brother of yours, but we are one as well. I will not let you touch this boy. Our future and our past depend on it.”
Bruin roared through his helmet like an angered lion. “Stupid D.R.U.I.D! You will all burn in Cantus’s fire!” He lunged for the baby again, but was not ready for Merlin’s defense.
Quicker than a flash grenade, Merlin reached through the ample folds of his robe to his legs and pulled two separate, ornate Avalonian metal rods out and linked them together to form a metal staff his exact height. With a hidden strength, he slammed it into the ground, gathering the kinetic energy and throwing the Cantus being away from him and the baby.
Breathing, he posed for battle. “I dare you to try that again, Cantus,” he said. “You have attacked our king’s son and have now declared war on all of Camelot. Uther will know.”
Bruin stood up and shook himself off like a wet dog. His breathing a deep growl like that of a bull as he eyed Merlin up and down.
“One lucky stroke, D.R.U.I.D,” he said. “But you are right. War has been waged. Tell Uther this: The son of Cantus, Horsa, will be avenged. Uther has struck the first blow by killing him out of anger and Cantus will retaliate in kind. Uther, beware. The hell planet is waiting to strike.”
With one final snort, Bruin took off with his wings then vanished in a puff of odd black dust. Merlin gasped and clutched his heart. Kinetic energy was a hard power to channel through his body. If it hadn’t been for the highly reverberant Avalonian metal that comprised his staff, he and the baby would be dead.
But now he had lost precious time. He had saved the child, but sacrificed Igrain.
19
A Soldier’s Death
“Vivian!” Merlin called in his mind to the other D.R.U.I.D. “I need you in the med bay of Castle Pendragon. It’s Igrain, she’s given birth.” He wanted Nimueh there, but she could not be trusted as her love for Uther would drive her to tell him of his son’s birth.
A medical team awaited them on the dock of the hangar. He had no choice but to call ahead and tell them that Igrain was ill and dying. When they docked, the team rushed in, clothed in tight-fitting pollution suits for protection and masks over their faces. Merlin didn’t know what the Mist pollution would do to other humans, but he, being D.R.U.I.D, seemed to be unaffected.
“The D.R.U.I.D doctors must work with her,” he panted, gathering the baby in his arms. “The toxin may be harmful to humans.”
A nurse came forward and tried to take the baby from his arms, but he pulled back. “No, I must watch over him.”
“Sir, that baby looks ill,” she reasoned. “Very pale and his veins are pulsing an unhealthy color. I must get him under observation.”
Torn between wanting the child to be alright and wanting to protect his and Uther’s secret, Merlin hesitated. Which was more important right now: Uther’s treachery towards Igrain or the child’s life? This child’s life was worth more than his current existence. So much depending his living. The entirety of existence depending on his small, frail shoulders.
With a moan of anguish, Merlin handed the baby over. “Please, do not do anything to the child until I am there. I must stay with his mother.”
“Some air and clean food will help him.” She took the baby from his clutching fingers. “We’ll lay them near each other.” She smiled sweetly.
“Merlin!” It was Vivian. She ran to his side, panting and clutching her flowing D.R.U.I.D robes in her arms. She still glowed from being at the circle. “A ripple has formed in the Crono-sphere. Something has disturbed the time continuum. Something was pulled out and then replaced, I think.”
“Yes.” He led her off the dock and out of the wind as they spoke. “Vivian, there is so much I wish I could tell you right now, but Igrain is ill. She went to Excalibur and the Mist engine leaked somehow.”
“Our technology is not perfect, Merlin, we have our faults.” She skipped every other step to keep up with him.
“I know, but it’s still odd to me. It’s been sedentary for so long; I didn’t think this would happen. What caused it?”
“Merlin, these things happen,” she said. She gathered her breath as Merlin scanned his retinas to be let into the next level. The D.R.U.I.D labs were hidden away on the seventh level basement. “Unless,” she thought more to herself than to him. “There is something you’re not telling me about this child. Is he… human?”
“Yes,” he said shortly.
The next few floors he covered in silence and began to walk faster until he was jogging down the halls. The lights were dimmer and a red tint covered them all. Vivian and Merlin’s skin glowed with an iridescent whiteness in the strange light.
“What is this light?” she inquired.
“To discern Avalonians from the humans.”
At that moment, as if to illustrate his point, a group of heavily armed guards walked past. Their faces were covered and the only skin visible didn’t glow as they walked past the D.R.U.I.Ds. Their eyes followed them for a few paces.
“You are not trusted in Uther’s court,” Vivian mused. “You seem to be wielding greater powers than I imagined. Will you stay and make this planet yours?” She judged him as she spoke. “That is not how we should do this. We are too strong.”
Merlin didn’t answer right away. He opened a glass chamber and ushered her in where they were sanitized before being let into the lab. Inside, the light gleamed soft and a white-ish blue. Everything was made of sleek Avalonian metal, clean and humming with power. On their right were three green tubes with D.R.U.I.Ds inside seemingly asleep.
“I don’t think I like what your Uther has been doing,” she whispered as they passed.
“You asked why I stay and not take over,” Merlin said, changing the topic. “I stay because long ago, I promised a man that I would watch over this world. This man had tried and failed to rule as best he could long, long ago. He had a vision that even the Great Mystery would support.”
“Oh, the Great Mystery is just myth and legend created by these humans on their original earth. Longer ago than I care to admit existed.” They were standing on one side of a glass window. Inside, Igrain lay with every limb punctured with needles cleaning her blood, administering cures, and flushing out her system.
“You’re lying. You know I remember. That man was the catalyst for a better world for the humans. And he was destined to save them, but he failed. He always fails.”
“Always?” Vivian asked. “Merlin, do you mean this man is still alive?”
The Lady of the Lake stopped. “Merlin.” She grabbed her fellow Avalonian’s forearm to slow him down. “Is it…Arthur?”
“I need you to watch over Igrain.” He led her into the sick bay.
Igrain lay pale and perspiring so much, her every pore seemed to be leaking.
“You.” Her hoarse voice cracked into a whisper. “Leave me alone. I know what it is you won’t tell me. You are an evil child of Avalon, Merlin.” She closed her eyes and a tear leaked out. “You helped him lie to me. Trick me.” She sobbed weakly. “He never loved me, did he? And here I am, a broken soldier.”
Guilt flooded Merlin’s heart and he couldn’t stop the tears that shot to his eyes at the sight of this once strong and powerful woman now so weak and frail. She was beyond saving—practically already dead.
“You cannot know the greatness with which you will be remembered,” Merlin said softly, not trust his shaking voice. “This time, they will call you Igrain, the mother of kings.” He lied to himself as well. He knew she would never be remembered as she ought to be. He gave way to his emotions and wept. “I am so sorry, Igrain. I’ve failed you and Camelot.”
Her vitals on the display began to race rapidly. She had seconds left to live. She was too weak to be cleansed. He should have just let her die outside Pendragon.
“I can take you to Avalon,” Vivian said quickly. “We can heal you there. I swear.” Something false tainted her voice that Merlin noted, as though she were just trying to please him.
Igrain tried to shake her head, but couldn’t. “You don’t know where Avalon is. Not even Merlin can find it. My Morgause, she searches for Avalon. She is part of it too. Like you.”
The D.R.U.I.Ds didn’t speak. They knew what death looked like and it already had Igrain in its grip, pulling her down fast. Instincts hit Merlin and he ran to the other side of the room to scoop the baby up and brought it to Igrain.
“This is your son, Igrain,” he said. He held the child up. The baby no longer panicked or cried but cooed silently with wide, violet eyes in an alabaster face. “You know Uther will demand that the ruling of Camelot be decided by blood.”
“I know,” Igrain moaned. “You lied to me, Merlin, and helped a great deception. That was very nearly evil of you. You Avalonians were always too docile and loyal to humans. I never knew why.”
“Because we must be,” Vivian murmured. “But we cannot escape it now. Not even any offspring of our own. Uther will make sure of that.”
A mysterious smile spread over Igrain’s pallid lips. “No pure children of Avalon in Camelot. Who will save your people now?” Her eyes flitted to the child in Merlin’s arms. “I understand you now, Merlin.” With a great effort, she reached up and pressed on a red lamp above her bed. In its light, the baby slightly glowed white under a black light.
“A human child of Avalon.” Bitterness steeped her voice. “You beast, Merlin. Creating a monster in the human world. Selfish bastard.”
“You don’t understand. This child will save everyone! Let Vivian take you to Avalon and save you.”
A hoarse, desperate screech tore through Igrain’s throat. “No! I hate Avalon and wish I never experimented with it. I hate Camelot and all of you! I hate the colony project and every human who took our earth from us!” She sobbed and began to convulse. Her throat constricted and she began to gag. “I hope you all die by your own devices!”
“Igrain, stop! It will be alright. I’ll take care of your child. He will be safe. I’ll protect him from all of this as best I can.”
“No, I hate you and all the D.R.U.I.Ds.” She sputtered. “My child. My poor baby.”
With one final jolt, her body twitched and her eyes misted over, her soul taken by the radiation she had endured. The long hours of suffering had reduced the brave soldier to a worthless, frail corpse.
Vivian stood still, unmoved, her face somber and expressionless. She spoke to Merlin, but did not face him.
“Camelot is on the verge of war. I’ve seen our sister Mab as well. She lurks in the dark places looking for men to corrupt. If what you say about Arthur is true, I know why she has emerged. But I can’t think she’s entirely evil after what I have witnessed here.”
Merlin drew his arms tighter around the baby as though he were afraid it would vanish. “What I’ve done isn’t evil. I truly believe that.”
Vivian smiled wickedly, her teeth glowing in the red light. “No, there is nothing malicious about disguising a man with a biological mask and seducing a woman into fornication with that man to produce an Avalon-human hybrid. Nothing bad, it’s just science, right, Merlin? In the name of the greater good.” Her eyes fell to the baby. “This is him?”
“Crone! You don’t know anything.” He turned quickly and made for the door. “I must contact Morgause. I have a hope that she may raise this child and teach him well.”
“You don’t trust Uther to raise his own son?” There was mocking pleasure in Vivian’s words. “And you think Morgause will love a bastard brother? Did you listen to what I just said? She will not love this child. One day, Merlin, I will discover what you know that other Avalonians don’t. Why do you keep meddling in the human affairs every time this child is born?”
He turned and met her eyes.
She went on. “If you insist on interfering, I’ll take it from you and put us in our rightful place. And if you try to stop me or hinder my discovery in any way, I will torture you until you beg for sweet death.” She swallowed, afraid of her own words. “Don’t. Do this. Again.”
He hadn’t expected such words from Vivian, the placid Lady of the Lake, and the surprise angered him. His heart tripped in a momentary fear that he quickly took under control. He wanted to reply, something smiting and clever, but remarks failed him. Instead, he left faster, the future king of Camelot in his arms.
20
The Damned Queen
With Uther planning an attack and defense from Hengist, Merlin didn’t worry about walking straight into Uther’s residence with the living bundle in his arms. Some of the guards looked twice at him and one even asked him what he had in his arms, but he didn’t stop. The only way he’d be able to contact Morgause safely was through Igrain’s channel. He hoped she would want to speak to her mother and allow a communication from Camelot through.
“This is Merlin of Camelot,” he told the security guard on the moon who blocked his communication. “Tell Morgause I have news of her mother… and brother.”
A moment later, the channel transferred to Morgause’s face. She sat holding something in her arms as well.
“Merlin,” she hissed. When she did, a horrible sight stepped out from behind her throne-like seat. Mab, all garbed in blacks and purples, all but the maniacal laughter she suppressed oozed from her leer. “What do you want?”
Holding up the baby in hope, he said, “This is your brother, Morgause. He has Avalonian genes like you.” He couldn’t care that Mab was there. He had only a second to convince Morgause to take her brother before she shut him off.
To his horror, Morgause shook her head and sighed. “He’s not, though. Not really. He’s far more manufactured than I am. My mother was too busy to have me grow in her womb so why should I accept this thing that she harvested on her own? With your help, I might add.”
“How do you know?” His heart sunk.
Morgause snickered and shook her head, petting her own baby. “This is Gawain. He’s mine and Lot’s child.”
Mab waited a beat, letting Merlin’s fear grow, enjoying the frightened look on his normally blank features. She said, “Do you know how the nobles became lords of lands on Earth Two? They killed the ones already there and took it. Uther is setting up a nice kingdom, ripe for revolution. Gawain will be their king. Morgause is the daughter of the queen, and as far as the people know, the only heir, even if it is by marriage. We are civilized—the people will not argue. I don’t know what that thing you are holding is at all. But if we must, we will make sure he is never introduced to the people.”
Morgause’s face showed no concern as she reached forward to the controls in her own room.
“Morgause, wait, please!”
But she had already shut him off.
&nb
sp; ***
Morgause gazed at the screen where Merlin’s face, full of hope, had just been. “Why did you close the connection?” she shot to Mab.
“You don’t need to pay any attention to Merlin, Uther, or Camelot right now, Morgause.” She moved around to face her, standing tall and powerful before the girl and her child. “You are too young to face all of that now.”
She was tired. She had done nothing but fight for a life ever since they had landed on this planet. But Mab was right; she was young. The horrors the Avalonian genes inside her wreaked on her body could not be stopped, however.
“I’ve forgotten my age,” she whispered. “I’ve lost it in all that time we spent on the ship sleeping. My father said I was too young to be with Lot.” She fell into deep thought, trying to remember. “I think he was ten years older than I was. Yes, he was a junior to my father and Uther in the academy. I’m not yet twenty at all.” She shot her eyes up to Mab. “But I also do not have the time Uther does.”
Pulling her long, dark hair over her shoulder and stroking it, Mab said, “But you are part of Avalon like I am. You could have our powers. You could even take Camelot for your own, for example.”
The little baby Gawain cooed in her arms, contributing his innocence to the conversation. Morgause petted his smooth, blazing red hair. It was some kind of defective gene, she decided. No one had red hair, but it set him apart. He was precious and she loved him. He deserved the world and she didn’t have much time to give it to him.
“Uther wants his son to be like a king after him,” she reminded Mab. “He has the people in the palm of his hand. They will do as he says and when his son is old enough, they will pledge him to the throne and bend their knee to a prince once again. Like savages.”
Outside, the skies were growing a strange green color. It darkened though not yet sunset and the plants were not glowing like they did at night. Morgause had never seen this before. It must be bad weather. She wasn’t sure what to expect or what to do to defend against it.
A New Home: A Sci-Fi Arthurian Retelling (The Camelot Project Book 1) Page 15