Beyond the Crimson (The Crimson Cycle)

by Danielle Martin Williams

  “Come!” Merlin shouted, leading me towards the castle entrance. He frantically moved his eyes across the battlefield. “Bran!” he roared. “Bran!”

  Brendelon turned, and suddenly his face mirrored Merlin’s previous expression as he got a look at me. He stepped toward us, but a knight jumped in front of him swinging his sword at his head. Brendelon ducked and thrust his sword forward into the belly of the knight who then crumbled forward as he yanked the blood-soaked sword from the fallen knight’s body.

  “Save William!” Merlin shouted, pointing at the knight who was trying to take his life.

  Brendelon moved with speed through the few knights left. He slid on his knees across the muddy fields, ducking under the hew of a silver falling bridge, blocking the rest of the blow with his shield. He swung his sword around in a flat arc piercing through the back of the knight that meant to kill him. The knight fell forward and Brendelon stood, finishing him off with a quick thrust before continued towards William, dodging a blow on the left and swinging his sword to the right. In no time, he was moving up to the entrance of the castle where William Cole was crouched under the weight of the knight. The knight saw him, suddenly panicked, and released his grip. I felt my strength begin to return as William crawled out of the way and the knight scrambled to find a sword. Brendelon pulled his sword back, but the steel was met by Bolvyn’s sword instead.

  They twisted around as they fought, blade to blade. Brendelon pushed his weight forward, throwing Bolvyn off balance. He came across the right as to slice him but Bolvyn jumped back, and the sword only cut a gash in his leg. Bolvyn took advantage of the higher positioning and hacked his sword down towards Brendelon’s neck but Brendelon moved left out of the way, blocking him with his shield, and then I saw it: the knight who had been strangling William came up behind Brendelon.

  “Behind you!” I screamed. He turned around wide-eyed as the blade was about to come down on him, ducking as he held his shield above him, now surrounded from both sides, but then suddenly the knight crumbled to the ground and behind him stood William Cole with a blood-soaked sword in his hand. Brendelon didn’t pause a moment watching the scene; he turned still holding the shield out, now blocking Bolvyn who hadn’t wasted his opportunity to catch Brendelon off guard.

  Brendelon kicked Bolvyn in the stomach as he came at him with his sword high over his head. Bolvyn hunched forward in one swift slice, his head rolled to the ground.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the acid rise in my throat. Merlin grabbed me into a hug, but it meant nothing. I choked down the bile I felt rising as tears welled in my eyes. I had never been so disturbed in my life. It was one thing with the dragon and the troll; they had hardly seemed real, but this bloodbath was with human lives. I finally peeked over his shoulder to the now blood-soaked fields. The rain stopped, calling the four knights and one man—with a panic stricken face that I was certain matched mine—the victors.

  Brendelon dropped his red stained sword into the sheath, exhausted, but keeping his black eyes on William. “Where is it?” he breathed heavily.

  William held up his hands in defeat. “She took it.”

  “What!” he roared. I flinched at his behavior, but it was nothing to what he did next. He stomped towards William, picked him up by the shirt and pounded his body against the castle wall.

  “Put him down!” Merlin roared.

  He didn’t look back at us, but he dropped William, who slumped to the ground, not even bothering to stand on his feet. “You told her where it was?” he growled.

  “No,” he said, holding his hands up, “she knew where it was. She went straight to it. I did not tell her anything. I swear it!”

  “What is he talking about Bran?” Bedivere asked, still hunched over panting to catch his breath.

  Brendelon averted his eyes, suddenly realizing he had just spilled his secret. He turned slowly to face Bedivere, Kay, and Lancelot, who all stood there with confused faces. Merlin stepped forward; his face was red and by the way he clenched his jaw and took slow deep breaths, I knew he was trying very hard to not lose his temper. “Nothing. Now you three need to properly bury these bodies,” he waved for Kay, Bedivere, and Lancelot to get busy, “while we speak with William.”

  They all dropped their jaws, seeming nothing short of appalled that they were stuck cleaning the mess that Brendelon created, but before they could argue, Merlin grasped Brendelon’s arm and led him inside with William Cole.

  *****

  “You foolish, disobedient boy!” Merlin yelled so loud, I could physically feel myself cower. Brendelon looked away and said nothing. William leaned up against a dark gray stone wall, keeping his fearful eyes on Brendelon, who looked fearsome and out of control; muddy and soaked from head to toe with rain and blood, green eyes wild, and short black hair flopped on his forehead with a few strands over his eyes and dripping down on his beautiful face.

  “I needed to come back to remember,” he finally said.

  “Do not lie to me boy; you came back for that sword! And where is it, now?”

  Brendelon turned. “Ask William, he was supposed to keep it safe.” He glared at William accusingly.

  “I know nothing of it!” he cried, holding his hands up in front of him.

  “You liar! You are the one who kept me imprisoned!” He stomped a few steps towards him but caught my eye, stopping in his tracks. “You are fortunate I cannot kill you,” he snarled angrily.

  William’s eyes went wide with shock. “Imprisoned? What are you speaking of? You were just here six morns ago!”

  Brendelon put his hands up like he was about to strangle him but let out an exasperated growl instead.

  “The Lady of the Lake came—” William started.

  “Lady of the Lake?” he interrupted, lowering his hands as his eyes scrunched together, clearly taken aback by the new information.

  “Aye,” Merlin answered angrily, “and I could have told you all this but you left against my orders.” He threw the journal onto the table, flipping it open. “Now look there, oh brave knight,” he mocked. “You see how the writing is fading? That is because you are changing Katarina’s future. The two worlds are coinciding, and you are changing everything that William is about to write. You might destroy every single chance she has to go home, along with many other important things that I cannot even begin to trust you with! All because you wanted a sword that you have no business touching!”

  Brendelon’s face dropped slightly from its hard malicious stare. “I won it,” he said finally, looking at Merlin. “It belongs to me.”

  Merlin stopped in his tracks and whirled to face him. “It does not belong to you, Brendelon Beaumont!” he shouted harshly.

  Brendelon clenched his jaw, clearly angry. “I won it.” he repeated.

  “Where did you win it?”

  “Cadvic’s tournament…” His eyebrows wrinkled, noticing it didn’t quite make sense.

  “So, you won it at Cadvic’s tournament and here his men try to ambush you, and you see nothing out of place with that,” he said looking at Brendelon with reproach. “Use your mind for once!” he shouted as he tapped him roughly on the forehead with his index finger. “It was stolen from Avalon, and that is where it belongs! Nothing good will come of this.” He swept his hand out, looking repulsed.

  I understood why he was angry, but he was being too harsh and it reminded me of the stories of him being treated badly as a child; I began to feel a fire take flame low in my stomach.

  “William,” Merlin said slowly as he walked over to him, wet boots squeaking on the hard stone floor. “I know this is going to be quite difficult to believe, but this girl here is a direct descendant of your family line. She has been brought back from hundreds and hundreds of years in the future and many important things have happened that are now undone. You must continue to write that Sir Brendelon has hidden a sword in your well. If it is found, it will destroy Arthur. You have taken an oath to keep it a secret, despite the fact that Bren
delon has been trapped into a portrait until it is revealed. You know the price is high but worth the cost, and you will keep the stone Vivian gave you. As you pass it down from generations, each generation will swear to protect it so that it shall not be fallen to wrong hands, as the stone cannot be destroyed. You will not speak of this to a single soul and swear to continue to tell this certain tale, knowing that you and your family are the key to keeping Britain safe. You will now stay in your chamber where you and your wife will remain until tomorrow morn not speaking to a soul of this.”

  William blinked rapidly and then looked upon me with softening eyes. “Does he speak truth?” he asked.

  I nodded my head as I looked at my great ancestor, a man I did not know but whose blood I shared. I breathed deeply suddenly understanding why I felt bound to protect Brendelon before; it had been engrained in our bloodline to keep him from the stone, only I had failed them all by freeing him.

  William wrapped his arms around me giving me a small squeeze. “I will keep your life safe,” he whispered in my ear as he pulled back and looked at me with innocent blue eyes. I smiled back at him, feeling as though I had known him all along and without another word he walked out of the large hall.

  Merlin turned back to Brendelon, anger fully restored. “Mordegrant’s messengers have informed us that there was a brutal attack upon his people, an attack by Cadvic’s army, leaving the stronghold vulnerable for the Saxons to pass through. Now, instead of helping your cousin plan against an important battle, his best warriors and myself are forced to come chasing after you to fix your rapacious mess!”

  He fixed his jaw stubbornly but said nothing.

  Merlin took a deep breath, as he rubbed his temples with his index and middle fingers. “Sit down, Bran, we have much to discuss.” His voice was lower but he was not any calmer than he had been a few minutes before. Brendelon reluctantly took a seat beside him, looking very much like a boy in detention. I sat across from him, but he didn’t look at me. Merlin opened the book to a page and slid it towards Brendelon. “Read this,” he commanded.

  Brendelon looked at it. “It is in Latin, it would take forever,” he said annoyed, pushing the journal away.

  “Ay, but you might have been able to read it with ease had you not spent all your time outdoors scheming up ways to skip Latin lessons!” Merlin snapped astringently. “You who thought it would serve you no purpose, yet here we are with the key to the curse upon you and you cannot even read it,” he dripped condescendingly as he waved the journal in the air.

  He shrugged his shoulders, keeping his jaw tight. “I was not good at Latin like your pet, Arthur,” he said snidely.

  “The reason Arthur succeeds, Bran, is because he thinks and knows how to listen! He puts the welfare of others before himself! You think yourself free and independent but all you are is an impulsive, careless, and selfish boy!”

  Brendelon stood up angrily. “I take care of myself,” he growled.

  Merlin stood too. “Oh, we all see how perfectly well you take care of yourself. But perhaps you should care about the safety of your comrades, Katarina, and your king, all of which you put in danger for your own debauchery!” He poked him hard in the chest, as he said the last of his words and even though he was wearing chainmail and probably felt nothing, it was too much for me.

  “Stop!” I shouted. They both turned to me, looking bewildered. “I forced him to take me. It isn’t his fault.” I stood to my feet, narrowing my eyes at Merlin. “If you knew from the journal that it was a danger to come here, you should have told him instead of leaving him clueless!” I rambled with my voice rising to dangerous levels. “If I hadn’t given you the journal you would be right here beside him just as oblivious, so stop being so cruel to him; he didn’t mean any harm!” I heaved out breaths, embarrassed at my unusual outburst, but still angry at the way he was treating Brendelon. My emotions were escalating so high that I wasn’t sure if I would continue shouting or start bawling.

  Brendelon looked at me, mouth slightly hung opened and eyes wide with surprise, but his eyes were bright green. I stayed watching his emeralds feeling the beauty of them calm me; it was as if everything around me faded out into a dull gray and all I could see was him with bright colors shining out of his every pore.

  Merlin sighed heavily, bringing me back to reality. “You are right Katarina.” He turned to Brendelon. “I am sorry, Bran, forgive me for my harshness.” He plopped down on the hard bench, putting his head in his hands. “You do not deserve my wrath. I am just uneasy about Arthur’s safety, and I am taking it undeservedly out on you.” He looked up at him with kind eyes. “I am truly sorry, Brendelon,” he said sincerely.

  Brendelon’s face was softer, but he shifted uncomfortably. “What means you about Arthur’s safety?” he asked quietly, taking a seat back at the table.

  “You remember the tournament, do you not?” he asked.

  Brendelon looked away. “I do not remember the tournament well, but I remember the sword. I was championed and it was my prize.” He looked off wistfully.

  “Ah, but it was not your prize was it?” he asked, leaning forward. Brendelon’s eyes flashed murderous. I had seen his sinister looks before, but this time, for a split second, he looked like a completely different person.

  “Why would it not be mine?” he hissed. “I won it.” Merlin put a patient hand on his shoulder. His looks softened once again then he glanced away almost shameful and sighed. “They may have told me to give it to my king,” he said quietly.

  “Aye and they want Arthur to have it because if he touches it, it will take his life.”

  Brendelon’s eyes flashed, he jumped up. “What do you mean it will take his life?” he demanded.

  “It is a counteractive sword of Excalibur. It is meant for evil; it wants to destroy all that is righteous.”

  “I… I do not understand you, Merlin.” he said, pushing his wet hair up from his forehead, looking very much like a lost little boy.

  Merlin sighed. “When Excalibur was forged in Avalon it was made with a great power of good, to be held by one pure of heart. A sword so mighty it would be a defining factor in the success of bringing light to Britain. However, everything must have a balance and so with Excalibur came the black sword, better known as Baedan. It is just as powerful, but where Excalibur is just, Baedan is corrupt; it lurks to consume and destroy all that is virtuous. Both purity and evil cannot be held by one, and if the swords were, it would cause a power surge so great, the holder would surely be destroyed.”

  Brendelon clenched his jaw. “So Cadvic used me like a pawn to destroy Arthur,” he snarled.

  “Aye, but we can be thankful that you hid it instead of giving it to Arthur or Morgaina.” He raised an eyebrow as he spoke. Brendelon turned his back, leaning forward against the wall and resting his forehead against his forearm.

  “And what of the curse?” he mumbled. “How does Vivian know of it?” He shifted his eyes to the side with a questioning look.

  “Morgaina wants the sword to destroy Arthur. She expected one of your comrades to make the trade, your freedom for the revealing of the sword. What she didn’t know was that William was the only one who knew of the hiding place. He kept his promise to you, Bran, in fact the whole family line has sworn an oath to protect it from falling into the wrong hands,” he said looking at him sternly. “As for Vivian, she only did what she thought best for Britain, she could not let the sword fall to Morgaina.”

  Brendelon whipped back around to face Merlin, right nostril scrunched upwards as he dropped his hands to the sides with tightly clenched fists. “So she instilled the second curse!” he snarled. “That devious snake!” He paced angrily.

  “She only meant to keep Arthur safe, for the good of Britain. You would have done the same. After all, you have pledged an oath to protect Arthur with your life, have you not?”

  It bothered me that he was left to suffer, as if he had no importance in comparison to Arthur. I might have failed my family, b
ut I didn’t regret it; he didn’t deserve that fate. Brendelon nodded, but his jaw was thrust out and the skin over his knuckles was tightly stretched as his hands squeezed into tight balls. “But now I am back and put him at risk.”

  “But now we know their plan and we can counter it. Arthur is rallying the warband to march to Cadvic’s. I am certain Cadvic is planning to attack us from one side while the Saxons attack from another.”

  “They will be no match for us,” he said pompously, “and we will warn Arthur to not touch the sword.” He shrugged his shoulders as though this were obvious.

  “No, he must not know of the sword. The more he knows the more power it gives the black sword to lure him in,” Merlin said, looking at Brendelon intently.

  “Gives the sword power?” he asked lowering an eyebrow.

  “It opens a dark hole in his mind, where evil can take a foothold and there it will begin to fester until he cannot fight the lure of the power it promises.”

  “Well, perhaps I should find the sword,” he said slowly. “I could hide it again.”

  “No Brendelon, you must not go near that sword. I will find Vivian and together we will find a way to bring it back to Avalon. It is a serious matter and you must follow orders.”

  He looked angry and frustrated but he remained quiet, and at that moment the doors swung open, with the sound of wet heavy armor rattling as they walked into the small hall.

  “It is done,” Bedivere said suddenly, throwing his hands up dramatically.

  “Already?” Merlin asked.

  “Aye, William’s servants were more than happy to assist,” he said giving Brendelon a dirty look, but it went unnoticed.

  Kay and Lancelot stepped in beside, both covered in mud, sweat, and blood. “Now tell us what this about?” he demanded crossing his arms.

  Merlin sighed and gestured for them to sit down as he filled them in on what he had learned from the journal, carefully leaving out the main details of the sword.

  “What?” Bedivere said, as an appalled look crossed his face.