The Merlin Chronicles: Box Set (All Three Novels)

by Daniel Diehl

  On the morning of the third day after the battle the shattered remnants of Arthur’s army began the march back to camp where Beverley and the women of the court were frantically tending to more than five hundred badly wounded men. By the end of the first full week Arthur began making noises about starting back to Baenin, but Beverley adamantly refused, declaring that many of the wounded could not possibly be moved for at least another two weeks. To placate the increasingly anxious king, Merlin volunteered to travel to Baenin and deliver the news of Arthur’s victory to the queen, promising that he would return within a few days.

  Reluctantly, Arthur agreed but insisted on walking to the sea shore with the wizard, seeking any words of wisdom and comfort he might have to offer. When they reached the water’s edge Vivian was already there, waiting to transport Merlin to the river running north of the capitol. As the two men approached the pebbly shingle, the sylph-like figure rushed forward, stretched high on her toes to kiss Merlin and then skipped over to Arthur and hugged him.

  “I know you. You are Merlin’s friend, the king of the humans.”

  Arthur grinned. “It’s nice to see you again, my Lady. And while I’m certainly Merlin’s friend I’m afraid I’m only the king of a very few of the humans.”

  The Lady of the Lake shrugged and let out a huge sigh. “Oh, well, at least you are alive now. Sometimes you are dead, you know. Still, I find it very strange.”

  Arthur smiled, knowing full well that this creature had absolutely no concept of time, its passage or its effect on the lives of humans. “You find what strange?”

  “I thought you were dead this time. You were certainly dead the last time it was this time.” Then, after a long pause, she added “At least I think you were.”

  Arthur threw back his head and laughed. It was a good, cathartic laugh and a release that he desperately needed after the unbearable stress of the past days. “I have no idea what you mean, but I want to thank you for taking Merlin back to my city.”

  Vivian pointed one tiny finger toward Excalibur. “Does your father’s sword still do you good service?”

  “Yes, thank you for allowing me to keep it. Without it I might well be dead…this time. Next to my wizard it’s my best weapon.”

  Vivian grinned, nodded and took Merlin by the hand, leading him toward the water with the easy grace of someone leading a partner onto the dance floor. Arthur watched in amazement as Merlin’s sandal touched the water and both he and the strange girl-thing disappeared from sight.

  Three days later Merlin returned to camp, bringing a letter from Gwenhwyfar expressing the gratitude of the Britons for ridding the kingdom of the dragons. The shrieks and sobs of the wives, children and parents of those who would never return to their families went unmentioned, but Arthur could see the pain in Merlin’s face as clearly as if it had been written on parchment and hung on the wall of his great hall.

  Declaring that it was essential for the wellbeing of the Britons that they reestablish Arthur’s continued control over the kingdom and bring a renewed sense of order out of the chaos of battle, Merlin called for a royal court to be held immediately. There, among the make-shift tents and waving grass of the base camp, a great bonfire was built from the disassembled ballistae and a hunting party returned to camp with six deer, four wild boar and a huge elk known as an alce. Merlin apologized for the lack of ale, but everyone assumed that the wizard and General Ambrosius were more disappointed by the absence of alcohol than most of the company.

  Not surprisingly, court was a depressingly solemn occasion. Arthur expressed his deep gratitude for the many hundreds who had given their lives, or suffered terrible wounds, to save their kingdom from the forces of his now-dead half-sister. Words of praise were heaped on those who had shown outstanding valor, or done extraordinary deeds, during the battle. The loss of Arthur’s kinsman, King Hoel of Brittany, was lamented and his bravery in four decades of battle was proudly remembered. Duke Aegidius was similarly lauded not only for the outstanding leadership of his troops, but of taking over command of Hoel’s divisions after their leader had fallen. Arthur’s uncle, General Ambrosius Aurelianus was praised for his courage and loyalty to the throne of the Britons throughout his long career, both during the extraordinarily difficult years of the dragon attacks during the later years of Uther’s reign and now, under Arthur.

  Llewellyn was remembered as the man who had made Arthur’s equites the most advanced unit of cavalry in the known world. In recognition of his outstanding performance in taking command of the equites after Llewellyn’s death, Bedwyr was promoted to permanent commander of all of Arthur’s mounted troops. Griffudd, too, was called before the throne and honored for his part in carrying out the complicated new tactics that had helped win two successive battles, first against the Saxons and now against Morgana’s mercenaries. His reward was advancement to the coveted rank of Cohort Leader, or commander of five hundred men, a rank immediately below general.

  When all the military awards and honors had been passed out, Arthur called for Jason and Beverley to come before him and be introduced to the entire assembly. At some point in the month-long expedition nearly everyone involved had come to realize that Jason was someone of importance; he was, after all, riding a horse rather than walking and had often been seen talking to the king and Ambrosius and sometimes spent entire days deep in conference with the great wizard. But who this man was, and where he came from, had remained mostly a subject of gossip and speculation, so the king’s introduction of the strangers was received with rapt attention. Arthur explained that Jason and Beverley, like Merlin, were wizards, and that they had come from a faraway land at Merlin’s behest to aid the kingdom in its time of need. He explained how Jason had designed the engines of war called ballista, had invented the stirrups that gave the equites an unequaled edge in battle and devised the formations that gave the army a much needed advantage over the Saxons and Morgana’s mercenaries.

  “This man rejected the conventional wisdom that a smaller army must always concede victory to a larger, and he has proven that the outcome of a battle is based more on ingenuity, forethought and planning than on sheer force of arms. For these insights, and the skills which allowed us to act upon them, we are eternally indebted to him.”

  After an introduction that left Jason thoroughly embarrassed and red faced, the king held out his hands to Beverley, who stepped forward and rested her hands in his, offering an unaccustomed curtsey in the process. When he released her hands, Arthur explained how this woman, who wore magic windows on her face, which allowed her to see things that no other person could see, had brought knowledge of healing and medicines to the kingdom and thereby saved countless lives that would otherwise have been lost to wounds and fever. When he finished, and the applause and cheering died down, Arthur leaned back in his camp chair and smiled.

  “The two of you have given much to my kingdom, and have done so selflessly. Not once have you asked for anything in return; you have requested neither land, nor gold, nor positions at court. And I know you did this for love of Merlin and no other reason. This displays a nobility of character that is rarely found among men. And while you have asked for nothing, I would like to offer you a small reward in recognition of your contributions to my kingdom. To you, Lady Beverley, I grant the title of Chief Healing Wizard to the Kingdom of the Britons, and to you, Master Jason, I bestow the title of Chief Engineer and Second Best Wizard in Briton.” A ripple of respectful laughter and chuckles ran through the crowd before Arthur continued. “I’m sure you understand why recognition of your magical prowess must remain subservient to that of our friend.” Then, after a long pause during which Jason and Beverley stared at each other, dumbstruck, Arthur concluded. “So, what say you? Will you stay with us?”

  An awkward silence followed as Beverley and Jason held a strained, whispered conversation during which they exchanged pain-filled glances with Merlin, who had been standing silently beside Arthur throughout the long evening. How could they refus
e an offer to become members of a society that they had studied, loved and dreamed about all of their lives, particularly after their years of adventuring with Merlin in his quest to rid the world of Morgana le Fay? On the other hand, how could they simply abandon their entire world, exchanging the friends, loved ones and conveniences of the twenty-first century for this primitive – and, in all honesty, barbaric - world of the fifth century? Finally, it was Jason who spoke for both of them.

  “My Lord…umm…King Arthur…this is the most generous offer ever made to any stranger who wandered, uninvited, into a strange land. It has been the greatest honor of our lives to aid our friend Merlin in his quest to rid your kingdom of the dragons and the Saxons. And while we will always cherish our time with you, once we get back to Baenin we really have to return to our own land. I’m really sorry.”

  Arthur nodded and smiled a small, tight smile. “I regret your decision but I also understand it; for I could not remain happy living outside my own small kingdom and would quickly long to return to my home, just as you do. But please remember that should you ever change your minds, you are always welcome to return to the land of the Britons as long as I remain on the throne.”

  After the deeds of all of the dozens of individuals who had suffered and fought for victory had been recognized and applauded, Arthur turned to Merlin and called him forward from his customary court position, immediately to the right of, and slightly behind, the throne, asking him to stand before him. Rising from his chair, the king stepped forward and placed his hands on the wizard’s shoulders.

  “Old friend, I wish there were something I could give you for your immense help in winning this terrible battle. But you already possess all the honors I have to bestow. You wear the torque of power, you are my teacher and my closest advisor. I’m afraid the only thing more I have to give is my throne and if you don’t mind I would like to hold on to that for just a little while longer.”

  After the general rumble of laughter quieted down, Merlin spoke. “My Lord, you have already granted me my greatest desire: the knowledge that both you, and your kingdom, are safe and well. No true subject of a great and noble king could ask for more than that. I would, however, ask your permission to address this assembled company of your followers.” When Arthur nodded, his forehead creased by small lines of confusion, Merlin turned around and raised his arms, calling for silence, and addressed the crowd. “Some few of us” he said, nodding toward Ambrosius, “remember a time before Arthur came to the throne and the land was ruled by his father, King Uther. We remember too, that because of his own valiant fight against the dragons Uther was given the sobriquet Pendragon – meaning foremost among the dragons. And while Uther the Pendragon strove mightily, he could not vanquish the beasts. But his son now has, and in so doing he has freed the earth from their scourge for all time. Therefore, I, Myrddin Emrys ap Morfryn, the greatest of all wizards, ask you who owe your lives and allegiance to our beloved King Arthur, to join me in proclaiming him the new Pendragon.”

  A deafening cheer filled the night air, echoing back from the distant hills, rolling down across the camp. When the cheering died down, Merlin turned his back on the crowd, smiled and bowed. “We, the people of the Britons, welcome you, King Arthur Pendragon.”

  Later, after the spit-roasted deer, boar and elk had been reduced to empty carcasses, after the wounded had been made as comfortable as possible and most of the weary soldiers made their way to the rumpled pile of blankets they used for camp beds, Merlin, Jason and Beverley walked alone along the shore, staring out at the moon-lit tide as it washed eternally in and out, cleansing the stones on the beach, carrying them out to sea and replacing them with new ones.

  “You don’t have to leave, you know.”

  Beverley hooked her arm through Merlin’s, squeezing herself close to his side. “We know. But we only came to help you. Our job is done and we…well, at least I, want to go home.”

  “If the two of you don’t mind waiting for a few weeks, I’ll come with you.” The surprise on Jason and Beverley’s face was invisible in the dark, but Merlin knew it was there and chuckled. “Just because we drove off the dragons and killed Morgana doesn’t mean the dragons are gone. There are still an endless number of them in that terrible place where they live, and I have to seal the gate permanently.”

  “But didn’t you already do that? I mean, with the stones, those Urim and Thummim things.”

  “I did that in the twenty-first century, my boy. Now I have to do it here, in the fifth century. And the only way I can do that is to travel back to your time, remove the stone from the gateway and immediately come back here and replace it.”

  “In the same place?”

  “In the same place but sixteen centuries earlier. And I have to make the change quickly enough that the dragons don’t realize it’s missing, or we’re right back where we started.”

  “Wait a minute. I’m still confused.” Jason scratched his head. “We just killed Morgana, right?”

  “That’s right. You shot her and I cut off her head. I think we can be reasonably sure she’s dead.”

  “Ewwww. You cut off her head?”

  “I’m sorry, my dear, but yes, I decapitated her. With an axe. Better safe than sorry.”

  “Wait, wait, wait.” Thinking about the paradoxes implicit in time travel made Jason’s head hurt. “If we killed Morgana now, in 485…”

  “It’s now 486, our new year began in March.”

  “Whatever.” Jason flapped his arms helplessly, like a flightless bird trying to take off. “If we killed her now then she won’t exist in the future. Right?”

  “Correct. And by killing her now we have prevented untold suffering and wars, and who can predict what other horrible things she did over the centuries. The future will be a far better place thanks to what we’ve done.”

  “But if she doesn’t exist, are the dragons still a threat?”

  “The gate has always been there and will remain there whether Morgana le Fay is alive or not. Which is why I have to go back.”

  “Back to the Hellfire caves?”

  “Back to the future. I have to retrieve the stone, bring it here and re-lock the gate now. It’s the only way we can guarantee that the future is safe from the dragons.”

  “I guess.”

  Merlin laughed and clapped Jason on the shoulder. “Just give me a few weeks to weave a spell that will seal the gate temporarily and I’ll take you both home.”

  “Didn’t it take you, like, four or five years to cast that spell the last time?”

  “Indeed it did. But I know a lot more now than I did then – thinking about any one thing for sixteen centuries is bound to teach you something. And since I’m only going to be in the future for a few days it only needs to be a temporary spell.”

  “Merlin?”

  The wizard inclined his head toward Beverley. “Yes, my dear?”

  “If you’re going to travel to our time to get the stone, doesn’t that mean that the spell to close the gate has to last for more than a thousand years?”

  “No. Only a few days.”

  “I just can’t wrap my head around that.”

  Merlin chuckled again, squeezing Beverley’s arm close to his side. “Don’t think about it. Once you’re both safely back in your own time, and I’m back in mine, your only connection to the past will be digging up its remnants.” When neither Jason nor Beverley made any reply, he prompted them. “That is what you want, isn’t it?”

  “I guess.”

  * * * *

  Immediately upon the army’s return to Baenin, Merlin locked himself in his workroom, adamantly refusing to come out for nearly three and a half weeks. Meals had to be left at his door and he gave strict orders that unless the kingdom came under attack he was absolutely not to be disturbed by anyone for any reason. The only evidence that he was still alive was the occasional sound of a pot smashing against a wall followed by a string of invective that made the women blush. Now and again, there
were unconfirmed reports that he had been witnessed emerging from the door leading into his herb garden, late at night, where his shadowy form was seen picking a few green sprigs while he muttered distractedly to himself.

  While the great wizard occupied himself with his spells and incantations, life among the Britons slowly returned to normal. Duke Aegidius led his troops, and those of King Hoel, back to the southern coast where they launched their ships and returned to their homes far away on the European mainland. Hundreds of widows and orphans slowly came to grips with their new, lonely reality and the survivors struggled to tend their fields and flocks with fewer hands to share the labor. As the wounded regained their strength, they too returned to work, many of them bearing horrific scars left by the dragons’ fiery breath. There were also scars less visible, and many veterans woke up screaming, their sleep shattered by images of flying horrors and their companions being burnt to a cinder only feet from their horrified eyes.

  It was at dinner time, on August fifteenth, when Merlin finally reappeared. Stepping out of his workroom, humming to himself, he wandered into the reception hall and quietly took his accustomed place at the long table, seemingly oblivious to the open-mouthed stares that greeted him.

  “Are you well then, Praefator?”

  “I am extremely well, my Lord. And yourself?”

  Playing along with this odd game to which he did not seem to know the rules, Arthur smiled, nodded and continued the oblique, formal conversation. “I am well, as is my Lady, the Queen. And would you care to share with all of us your activities over the last, my, my, what has it been…twenty five days or more?”