The Merlin Chronicles: Box Set (All Three Novels)

by Daniel Diehl

  “I understand how you feel. Separation is difficult to comprehend.”

  “No, you don’t understand. We have...had...work that had to be done. I can’t do it alone.”

  Jason.

  Jason snapped his head around, eyes wide. “God. I think I’m cracking up. I can almost hear his voice.”

  “It is not unusual for us to experience very real...”

  Jason. said the voice inside his head.

  “Oh, no, that’s just way too real.” Jason pulled himself out of the sludge. “Merlin? MERLIN. Are you there? Can you hear me?” his voice rose to a shout.

  “Please Jason. You will make yourself ill.” Lu Shi said, laying a gentle, restraining hand on the young man’s arm.

  On the hill, Jason. I’m on the crest of the hill. The voice was weak but there was no doubt it was Merlin and he needed help.

  “He’s alive.” Jason grabbed Lu Shi’s arms and shook him. “Merlin is alive. He’s on top of the hill.” Releasing Lu Shi, Jason began plunging toward the road and the hill beyond.

  Lu Shi shot out a hand to take him in a restraining grip. “Jason. Listen to me. Your friend is gone.”

  “No. No. Really. Now please, get the others and come help me find him.”

  Lu Shi threw his arms into the air in resignation and decided it was easier to humor the distraught young man than to fight with him. Calling down the hill to where Ton Lo and Lin Piao were hauling their meager belongings out of the wrecked Jeep, he motioned for them to follow him. By the time the monks reached the road, Jason had nearly clawed his way to the top of the slimy arroyo, scooped from the landscape by the cascade.

  “He’s here. I can see him.” Jason called back over his shoulder. “I think he’s hurt. I need some help. Hurry.” Motioning wildly, as though it would speed the monk’s climb, he continued scratching his way up the rise. From where he stood he could already see Merlin’s hiking boots and the bottom of his heavy fur coat; both caked in a thick layer of mud. Pulling himself over the crest of the hill, he crawled, panting to where his friend lay.

  “Do not move him – do not even touch him. If he is hurt you could do him more injury.” Lu Shi shouted from half way down the cliff. His voice had the tone of someone not to be argued with.

  Jason crept closer toward Merlin’s filthy face, plastered over with matted hair and beard. Gently, he pulled a few strands of mud-encrusted hair away from the old man’s eyes. “Can you hear me?”

  The brilliant blue eyes fluttered open and the hint of a smile screwed at the corners of his cheeks. “I’m here.” The voice was weak, but Jason was elated to hear it. As he sat stroking the muddy shoulder of Merlin’s coat, Lu Shi crept up beside him, gently nudging him aside.

  “Please move. I need to check him for injuries.”

  Gently, Lu Shi eased Merlin onto his back, shielding his eyes from the sunlight while peering intently into his pupils. After a moment he removed his hand, allowing the sun to fall across Merlin’s line of vision. The pupils dilated in synchronization and at a reasonable rate.

  “Can you hear my voice?”

  Merlin nodded and mumbled as Lu Shi moved a hand in front of his face and raised his index finger. “How many fingers am I holding up.?”

  The word “one” was followed by a small, phlegmy cough.

  “No apparent concussion. Now let’s see what the patient has to say for himself. Are you in any pain?”

  “I think my leg is broken.” It was a small voice, but clear and steady.

  “Which leg and where?”

  “Left leg. The ankle.”

  “You seem to know more about medicine than just first-aid.” Jason had been watching the monk’s moves like a hawk.

  “Johns-Hopkins, class of ninety-eight.” Lu Shi gave Jason only a cursory glance.

  “You’re a doctor and you speak perfect English - why didn’t you say so before?”

  “You didn’t ask me.” Lu Shi pulled his hands away from his patient, sat back on his haunches and looked at Jason. “Besides, your Mongolian is very nearly flawless. Congratulations. It is a very complicated language and few foreigners ever master it. Where did you learn it?”

  “Merlin taught it to me.”

  “I’m doubly impressed.”

  “Yeah. It took him almost five hours to get it all inside my head.”

  Lu Shi cocked a skeptical eyebrow before turning back to Merlin. “I must take off your boot so I can look at your ankle.” Then, shifting his attention, “Jason, you come here and keep your friend awake and alert. He must not pass out. If he does he may go into shock.”

  “Right.” Jason changed places with the monk who moved toward Merlin’s mud-caked shoes.”

  “Now I have to remove your boot so I can have a closer look at that foot. I will try to do this slowly but you may experience some discomfort.”

  Jason leaned close to Merlin’s ear and whispered. “When a doctor says discomfort he means it’s going to hurt like hell. Here, grab my hand and squeeze it hard if it hurts.” Tenderly he took hold of the old man’s hand and held it firmly as Lu Shi began unlacing the shoe.

  “Mmmm.” Merlin gritted his teeth and clutched at Jason’s hand as the shoe slipped from his foot. Jason could see beads of perspiration form on the old man’s forehead as the doctor-monk eased the foot forward, backward and left to right with one hand, while cradling it tenderly in the other.

  “You are very lucky to have been wearing good quality hiking boots. The ankle is not broken.” Lu Shi laid the foot down and rose to his knees. “It is just a very bad sprain. I can bind it and we will make a litter to carry you to the monastery. Jason, do you have a pair of scissors?”

  “There’s one in the first aid kit in the Jeep.”

  “Please go and get them for me...and bring the entire first aid kit back with you.”

  Jason jumped to his feet and scurried down the hillside toward the ravine. Left alone with Merlin, Lu Shi moved back toward his patient’s head and leaned forward.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Yes.” Merlin nodded, his voice weak but alert.

  “I do not know what this is all about, so forgive me for mentioning it, but I have the feeling that you and your young friend are involved in something much deeper than a pilgrimage to confirm your faith. Fu Ling Chu was certainly not after four poor monks, and instances of a sorcerer randomly attacking travelers are very rare. To assume that he did so, and by sheer chance encountered another sorcerer powerful enough to defeat him, is beyond comprehension.”

  “I did defeat him then?”

  “Oh, yes. He is quite dead. Jason found his body.” Merlin inhaled deeply, letting out a long, ragged sigh of relief as Lu Shi continued. “I have no interest in whatever unseemly thing you are involved in, however, I strongly advise you to speak with Sun Wang To; he is our Panchen Lama, our leader, and he is very wise in the ways of mysterious and unseen forces. All I know about the supernatural is that one should be in awe of it at all times but never foolish enough to make contact with it. This is a wisdom which you seem to have ignored.”

  “I appreciate the offer...” Merlin’s speech was still forced but he seemed to be more alert now. “...but Jason and I will have to be on our way. We must get back to England as soon as possible.”

  “You will not be going anywhere for at least two, possibly three weeks. If you attempt to put any weight on that foot before the muscles and tendons have strengthened you could do irreparable damage. At your age you are very lucky not be looking at four months in a cast.”

  “At my age I’m very lucky to be looking at anything at all.” The attempted levity brought on another bout of hacking cough.

  Lu Shi did not know if this might be an attempt at humor, similar to Jason’s comment that it had taken the old man five hours to teach him Mongolian. He shook his head gently, abandoning any hope of ever understanding westerners.

  Jason came puffing up the hill with the first aid kit. Accepting it with a nod, Lu Shi removed
his filthy, saffron colored sash and cut it into four-inch wide strips. “This sash is silk and is both light and strong. It will have to serve as a wrapping until we reach the monastery where I will replace it with something more appropriate.”

  “Isn’t your sash sacred, or something?”

  Lu Shi paused and raised his soft, brown eyes toward Jason. “Life is sacred. This is a piece of cloth.” Then, inclining his head toward Merlin. “I apologize for the fact that your dressing is soiled. I will replace it with a clean one as soon as possible.” Returning to his place at Merlin’s foot and instructing Jason to keep his friend from moving while he applied the wrapping, Lu Shi went about his work binding the swollen ankle. “I shall have Lin Piao and Ton Lo gather branches and construct a litter. We must try to find shelter and build a fire before nightfall. We are all soaked and I am afraid someone may become seriously ill if we do not dry out.”

  “We’re going to have to walk to your monastery, aren’t we?”

  “Yes.”

  “How far do you think it is from here?”

  Lu Shi glanced up, making a quick survey of the northern horizon. “Possibly sixty miles, possibly less.”

  More to himself than anyone in particular, Jason muttered, “God, how are we going to walk that far across the mountains, carrying a stretcher, in the dead of winter?”

  “Young man, my brothers and I have spent fifteen months walking across Mongolia, China, Tibet and back. I believe we can persevere for another three or four days.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I understand your feelings, but one does what one must when the need arises. Now, is there anything you have in the car that may be of use to us on our travels?”

  “There is a little food and some clothes. I think I saw a little ball of twine and some other stuff in the back, too.”

  “Please collect anything that might be of value. Give the string to Ton Lo to tie the litter together. We will add the food to what we were carrying in our own packs.”

  “I wish I could get the Jeep out of the mud. The last time this happened we had horses to pull us out, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  Tying the last knot in the bandage Lu Shi rested Merlin’s foot on the ground and patted him on the leg before looking up at Jason with a mystified expression. “The last time this happened? Do you mean such things happen to you on a regular basis?”

  “Yeah. The demon with the basket on his head, a sandstorm, the evil sorcerer, the car swamped along the road, the whole thing.”

  “And when, might I ask, did all this happen?”

  “Last week.”

  “You have a very adventurous life. I do not envy you.”

  “In all honesty, I don’t envy us either.”

  By the following morning everyone was dry and marginally rested, thanks to the meager comforts offered by a shallow cave and a roaring fire. Although dry, all five were still filthy dirty, exhausted and sore enough to leave little energy for idle conversation. Jason and the monks took turns carrying Merlin’s litter, switching off every hour or so to prevent anyone from becoming too tired or sore. The following evening they camped in the shelter of a rocky cleft in the foothills of the mountains.

  “Your friend has an extraordinary capacity to bear pain, particularly for a man his age. Such a severe sprain would have reduced many younger men to tears.” Lu Shi and Jason had stepped beyond the ring of light and warmth of the campfire and were staring into the night sky.

  “He’s an amazing man.”

  “Considering what I have seen him do, I can only agree. Would it be improper to ask who he really is?”

  “I think you should ask him that.”

  “Yes. Of course. You are quite right. I am sorry.”

  “No, it’s ok. I probably would have asked the same question in your place. It isn’t every day you see an old man fly through the roof of a car and take on a sorcerer and three demons.” After allowing a brief silence to pass, Jason continued. “I want to thank you for helping Merlin and taking us to your monastery.”

  “I find it hard to believe that there are people who would do any less, but I suppose there are.”

  “Most people.”

  “Yes. How sad. But it is late, come, let us get some rest. Tomorrow will be another long day.”

  “How’s the food holding out?”

  “There is very little left, but by the end of the day after tomorrow we will be at, or very near, the monastery, so there is no danger of falling down from hunger.”

  “That was a joke, right?”

  “It was. But it was also the truth. We are in no danger of not making it to safety.” Then, with a cryptic smile, he added, “at least not as a result of hunger or thirst.”

  “Thanks Lu Shi.”

  At this point Jason heard Merlin call his name from where he lay near the fire. Excusing himself, Jason hurried back and knelt beside the litter.

  “You need something?”

  “No, I’m fine. But I just realized I don’t have my purse. You didn’t happen to pick it up did you?”

  Jason glanced around as though the missing pouch might be within arm’s reach. “No. I didn’t see it when we found you, but I wasn’t really looking for it.”

  “That means the scrying glass is gone and we have no way of tracking Morgana.”

  “Great. And I’ll bet all your money was in there too.”

  Merlin nodded. “How much do you still have?”

  “I don’t know. Some, not a lot. I do have a credit card that probably has enough left on it to buy plane tickets home and stuff, but we sure aren’t going anywhere first class.”

  “We’ll be all right. I just wish I knew what Morgana was doing. She must have been conniving with that sorcerer since the minute she got to Mongolia. That’s the only way I can account for the fact that we saw him both before we reached the fortress, and again after we escaped.”

  “And he was the one who gave us directions.”

  “Yes, he led us right to her. Obviously they were working together. I just wish I knew what she was doing now and whether or not she knows what happened between us and her pet necromancer?”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Neither do I. Get some sleep, Jason.”

  The weather turned colder overnight and the morning brought with it a biting wind that made progress even more ponderous than before. Hunched forward against the cutting air, they trudged northward, heads down, too miserable to look at anything except the ground immediately in front of them. Had it not been for the rattling and clanging of the old Soviet army truck grinding toward them, they might not have seen it until it had passed. The monk known as Ton Lo was the first to hear the noise. Unhesitatingly, he stepped into the center of the road and began waving his arms.

  Like some psychedelic remnant of the sixties, the once green military truck had been painted florid pink, its canvass top mended, repaired and patched with a crazy-quilt of mismatched fabric. At the sight of the frantic monk blocking his way, the driver screeched to a halt, leaned out and shouted something in a language Jason could not understand.

  “He is Russian.” Lu Shi observed to Jason. “I can speak some Russian. Possibly I can convince him to give us a ride.”

  Passing his end of the stretcher to Ton Lo, Lu Shi walked to the truck and addressed the irate man behind the wheel. Jason had no idea what passed between them, but the conversation involved a lot of head nodding, arm waving and gesticulating - pointing first one way and then the other. More than once the driver eyed the dirty, bedraggled collection of men before offering a shrug of resignation and waving an arm toward the rear of his vehicle. Finally, Lu Shi returned to his companions.

  “He says he is going home to Russia, and he will give us a ride as far as the bridge where the highway crosses the Oron Gal river. That will put us only four miles from The Temple of the Clouds.”

  Jason waved his thanks to the grizzled, obese driver and everyone hustled toward the rear
of the vehicle where they slid Merlin’s litter inside and clambered in. Once settled on the wooden seats running along each side of the truck bed, Lu Shi rapped on the rear window of the cab. The driver smiled a gap-toothed grin and slammed the transmission into gear, urging the old transport forward with a lurch. By midafternoon they reached the southern approach to the Oron Gal river bridge. Jason, Lu Shi, Ton Lo and Lin Piao all offered their thanks to the driver before the truck roared onto the bridge and toward the Russian border in a cloud of greasy smoke.

  Following a footpath toward the banks of the Oron Gal, the party made its way along the river walk and into the depths of a heavily forested valley. Covered primarily with fir and pine, even in the depths of winter the valley was green and, except for the gentle rush of the river, peacefully silent. An hour later, as the late afternoon shadows lengthened across the valley, Jason caught his first sight of the Buddhist monastery.

  High on the steep, southern bank of the river valley, the walls of the Temple of the Clouds rose nearly two hundred feet toward the mountaintop. The lower three-quarters of the box-like structure was plain and unadorned, tapering slowly inward like some fantastic marriage between an Aztec pyramid and a medieval castle. The upper three floors displayed elaborate rows of colonnaded porches, one stacked on top of another like a brilliantly colored wedding cake; the support columns, balustrades and ornaments were picked out in yellow, the cloister walls behind them were painted a soft, deep red. Each of the upper levels was slightly smaller than the one beneath, providing space for a roof of ochre hued tiles to project out over the veranda below. The front edge of each roof curved outward and upward like the toe of a gigantic Persian slipper. The side facing the river must have been nearly four hundred feet in length and the sides built into the mountain were nearly two thirds as large. By counting the rows of tiny windows in the base and adding the three upper stories, Jason calculated the building to be no less than twelve stories tall.