by J. M. Briggs
Then came another howl and Morgana was nearly thrown from her horse. She stumbled to the ground and glared at the horse as she grabbed the leather bag off its back. It hit the ground with a thunk as the horse pulled away from her. There was another howl just as the last of the warriors, a man named Aileen was getting off his horse. He fell to the ground as the horse pulled sharply away from him and took off running.
Pulling Cathanáil from its sheath Arto brought his sword up in front of him and looked around carefully. Magic shimmered down his arm and into the sword. Cathanáil’s blade glowed a soft white color illuminating the terrain around them. He heard Luegáed gasp softly and resisted the urge to smirk, forcing himself to focus on the coming threat.
The Sídhe Riders appeared on the crest of the hill, the low light of dusk framing their gleaming silvery steeds. One of them held an orb of light that illuminated their golden armor and made their violet eyes glitter dangerously. There were seven in total, forming a straight line atop the hill, watching them as their Hounds rushed down the hill.
“Brace yourselves!” his sister shouted, her voice echoing over the plains. “Make them come to the flat ground!”
The Hounds reached them first, a wave of snarling shimmering fur and gleaming teeth. Swinging Cathanáil, Arto sliced into the one lunging at him, causing it to vanish in a brief flash of light while doing his best to stay aware of the others. In the corner of his eye, he saw concentrated light lashing around, striking two of the Hounds, Morgana’s work no doubt, and heard the sharp cry of another Hound to his left. Spinning on his heel, Arto looked to his left where Luegáed was blocking the attacks of a snarling Hound. He stepped forward quickly and brought Cathanáil down on the Hounds back while Luegáed kept it distracted. The Hound began to turn on him, but it vanished with an animalistic cry of pain.
“Riders!” Someone shouted nearby and Arto turned back to the slope of the hill, raising Cathanáil as he scanned the Riders.
They were rushing down the hill, two of them gathering magic in their hands. A shout from Morgana gave the others enough warning to leap out of the way as a golden blast of magic shot past them. Dirt and small stones were launched into the air as the blast ripped into the ground. Arto turned his face away to protect his eyes but felt the debris rain down on his back. The other Rider released his blast, but a shimmering flash of green magic collided with it, sending sparks raining down on the ground. And the Riders were upon them.
There was a dull roar around Arto: the pounding of his blood deafened him to all but the loudest sounds. Cathanáil glowed in his hands, illuminating the terrain all around him. Three Riders pulled away, circling to the flanks of the group. Releasing his left hand from Cathanáil, Arto called forth his magic, envisioning fire erupting over the flesh and armor of a nearby Rider. He thrust his hand towards the Rider, pushing at the magic and commanding it to make his vision a reality. Screams tore from the Rider as flames erupted over his body and his steed attempted to throw him off.
Green magic flashed and Arto turned in time to see a section of earth rising up and surging in a wave of mud around the feet of a horse. As the beast tried to escape, two warriors rushed forward and pulled the Rider from its back before it could do anything. Arto saw silver blood splash in the light provided by the gleaming Cathanáil.
A cry of rage cut through the pounding in his ears and Arto spun sharply, finding a Rider bearing down on him. He brought Cathanáil up in front of him, barely deflecting the shining golden blade of the Rider. Spinning away, he slashed Cathanáil at the torso of the steed, the sword clanging on the metallic armor worn by the beast before the blade skipped off and sank into a small patch of exposed flesh. Twisting the sword, Arto pulled it out sharply and jumped back as the horse screamed and vanished.
The Rider leapt to the ground and swung at Arto. Ducking, he felt the air above his head being displaced by the blade. Someone called his name and he felt himself being pushed gently to the side. Luegáed swung his iron sword in a smooth motion across his body. Arto heard it scratch against the Rider’s golden armor. It caught on the edge of the armor, just at the junction between the chest and arm protection. Shoving the blade forward, Luegáed made a loud cry as the sword was buried into the Síd’s shoulder. The Síd screamed, clawing at Luegáed even as its body began to dissolve. The armor turned to dust as Luegáed stared at it in shock, his eyes looking down at the sword in his hand.
Arto nearly smiled, but a sudden crash to his right pulled his eyes away from his new friend. Another Rider was charging into Aileen, knocking the man and another warrior down to the ground. The metallic hoofs of the Sídhe’s horse flashed in the light as the beast reared up. Eyes widening, Arto thrust Cathanáil forward towards the horse and pushed a burst of magic through. The sword shimmered for a split second as the horse began to fall back to the ground. Magic sparked off the metal, shooting forward off the sword like a solid beam of light, striking the Rider’s steed in the chest. With a cut off scream, the horse vanished in a brief burst of light, sending the Rider crashing to the ground.
Aileen was on his feet, grabbing his iron headed axe back up from the ground. With a roar, the man brought the axe down on the Rider, the iron crashing into its skull. There was a brief splash of silvery blood before the Rider began to dissolve as Aileen cheered. His cheer was soon joined by others and Arto panted as he looked around. Raising Cathanáil high above his head, Arto pushed more magic into the sword and willed the light to become brighter. The beams of light stretched all around them, but the Riders and Hounds were all gone.
“Well done,” Arto shouted over the din, swallowing to clear his ears. “Tend to the wounded and recover whatever you can from the horses.”
The cheers turned to grumbling as everyone recalled that the horses had fled. Perhaps they’d find them and most of the supplies in the morning, but with the sun below the horizon and only a sliver of the moon, Arto knew it was a fool’s errand to search tonight. Arto watched the others move about to check injuries and pick up fallen bags and blankets. His eyes went to the heavy bag of iron that he’d freed from his own horse and with a sigh of resignation he collected the bag and slung it over his shoulder. He started to make his way over to Merlin and Morgana, anxious to confer with them.
“That was an ambush party,” Arto heard his sister say in a low angry voice to Merlin.
“Morgana, it may have simply been a raiding party,” Merlin hissed in a low voice, glancing around and his eyes landing on him. Arto received a warning look and said nothing.
“Raiding parties are numbered three, four at the most: this was seven. That is a military group expecting combat.”
“Perhaps they are increasing the size of their raiding parties due to areas being armed with iron,” Merlin suggested, reaching towards Morgana.
His sister avoided Merlin’s hand, flipping her long braided hair over her shoulder. Arto could see the anger and tension in her shoulders.
“Don’t delude yourself, we’ve been betrayed. This was an ambush.”
“Morgana, they may have anticipated our movements. This is the fastest route to the area they are now most active in. Routine can be predicted and planned for.”
“I don’t believe it,” Morgana countered, shaking her head with a fierce look in her green eyes. “My instincts, my years of living with the Sídhe are saying that this was an ambush and they had help.”
Arto saw Merlin sigh and shake his head while Morgana glared at him before she turned on her heel, her cloak fluttering behind her. His sister nodded to him before her eyes moved past him and settled on something behind him. Turning, he looked over his shoulder and stilled when he realized that his sister was looking at Luegáed. Irritation rose through him and Arto started to move towards his sister, but Merlin’s large hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“Easy lad,” Merlin told him in a gentle, but firm voice. “She’ll not do anything rash, but you will not dissuade her from her anger.”
“But she’s wron
g,” Arto protested weakly. “She has to be, doesn’t she?”
“Perhaps, perhaps not, but we’ll not solve that problem tonight,” Merlin sighed with a shake of his head. “Morgana’s own… history makes her very inclined to see traitors, even when there may not be any.” Merlin looked around, his eyes settling on the distance village. “And in the meantime, we aren’t going to get those horses back tonight so it is time to start walking.”
Arto sighed, but nodded and swung the heavy bag of iron over his shoulder. It thunked against his sore muscles and Arto huffed. Merlin chuckled in front of him as he shouldered his own lighter bag and called for the others attention. Everyone settled down quickly and in less than a minute they were working their way towards the village on foot, everyone looking forward to something to eat and a place to sleep.
10
Life and Love
With a soft sigh, Alex dumped her school bag on her bed and glanced at her laptop’s clock. She had some time before her next class to relax which after spending Saturday worrying about her parents finding out too much and battling a Shadow on Sunday was a welcome relief for Monday morning. Opening up her bag, Alex ignored her tablet and pulled out the two paperback books that Professor Yates had assigned for them. As she put the books back onto the small set of shelves by her desk, Alex shook her head: The Story of King Arthur was a hell of a way to start off her Monday morning. Under other, non-magical circumstances she would have been thrilled to have the chance to read the old myths and discuss how the ancient Celtic tales had been transformed over the years. As it was, sometimes it was very very hard not to fall on the ground laughing as Merlin, currently going by the name Ambrose Yates, talked about the archetype that Merlin represented in literature.
“Life is weird,” Alex muttered to herself as she grabbed her Spanish book and homework worksheet.
Walking out to the small kitchenette, Alex picked up a plastic glass and poured herself some water. She took a long drink and leaned against the hallway wall, enjoying the silence for a few moments. A knock on the door made her look up and blink in surprise. She set her glass of water on the counter and walked into the living room, turning into the small entryway. Opening the door, Alex’s eyes widened slightly as she found Arthur standing there, backpack over one shoulder and a worried expression on his face.
“Alex,” Arthur breathed, his blue eyes sparkling as he smiled at her and sighed in relief. “You’re okay.”
“I’m fine Arthur, we all are,” Alex assured him, even as she melted more than a little and smiled in return. “I told you that on the phone,” she reminded him, stepping to the side to let him into the living room and closed the door with a soft click.
“I know,” Arthur replied, running a hand through his blond hair in aggravation. “I’m just sorry I wasn’t there. Our next big enemy starts attacking and I’m at a stupid football game across the country.”
“It’s okay,” she promised, both worried at his aggravation and touched by his obvious worry. “After all, I’m the one who didn’t meet you for breakfast this morning. I just couldn’t drag myself out of bed any earlier than necessary.”
“But you’re really okay, Bran and Nicki too?”
“We were just exhausted by the fight. We stayed at Morgana’s house until after dinner to rest up and then came back to campus. No real injuries. Bran’s leg is sore from the strain he put on it, but he’s okay too and Nicki’s bounced back to her usual self.”
“And how are you?”
“Worried,” she admitted with a shake of her head. “The Sídhe don’t come out much in the daytime, but the light didn’t bother this thing at all. We’ll have to be on guard all the time now. Merlin promised he’d help us set up some protections for our dorm room. Apparently iron works okay against these things too. It doesn’t hurt them like it does the Sídhe, but it slows them down so we’ve got that in our favor at least.”
“Damn, I really should have been there, it isn’t right for you to always have to face the threat.”
Alex wanted to say something more, wanted to make sure that Arthur didn’t blame himself for the insanity that was their life, but she couldn’t because he suddenly pulled her closer, and Alex saw a flash of blue eyes before dry slightly chapped lips were on hers. Arthur might’ve meant it to be reassuring and life affirming, but without thinking about it, Alex tugged him closer and nibbled at his bottom lip. Arthur raised a hand to the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her long blonde hair as he opened his lips and responded perfectly to her.
There was a brilliant rush of excitement through Alex, washing away the fear and worry that had been lingering in her chest all last night. The nightmares of Shadows hissing and attacking her while Hounds howled in the distance were suddenly forgotten. She’d almost forgotten in the last year just what this felt like.
The large hand on her hip felt hot even through her clothing, but when Arthur’s hand shifted just enough for his fingers to brush skin Alex thought the room might just burst into flames. Their chests were pressed together so tightly she could feel the outline of his ribs against her own. Groans and soft pants for air were the only sounds in the small living room. Their hands were everywhere, pushing up shirts and dancing over skin with eagerness that Alex barely remembered from her high school adventures. Arthur pulled his mouth away from hers and despite herself, a small whimper escaped Alex before his lips started caressing her neck. It felt like being punched in the solar plexus as her legs quivered and everything blinked away.
They somehow moved over to the small sofa that filled one corner of the living room. Alex’s threw a leg over one of Arthur’s as he returned to kissing her. She didn’t even hear the sound of the front door’s lock disengaging. The sound of the door opening and softly hitting the entry way wall barely registered as Arthur pulled her completely onto his lap. Forcing open her eyes, Alex glanced towards the entry lost in a heavy fog that lasted until Nicki stepped into view, turned red and squeaked.
“Oh god Alex, I’m sorry,” Nicki gasped, averting her eyes from them.
“Nicki,” she choked out.
Alex shifted away from Arthur on the too small sofa, nearly falling to the ground. Her roommate’s eyes widened and a faint blush appeared on Nicki’s face.
“Sorry,” Nicki gushed as she rapidly headed to the hallway. “My class was canceled; I’ll just be in my room-”
Arthur’s phone beeped loudly, nearly echoing off the mostly bare white wall. Her boyfriend gave her a sheepish look and glanced towards Nicki who was hovering by the door to her room as she fumbled for her key card.
“I’ve got to get to class,” Arthur muttered, bending over to pick up the backpack he’d dropped sometime during their little make-out session. “Uh, how about dinner tonight? Nothing fancy, but it would be nice to spend some time together.
“Okay,” Alex agreed quickly, still very warm and embarrassed. With a tentative look towards Nicki, she leaned forward and caught Arthur’s lips in a quick kiss, resisting the urge to drag him up against her again.
“I’ll meet you guys for lunch,” Arthur promised. “Just by the burger stand in the commons.”
“Sounds good.”
Arthur leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek before nodding to Nicki, a faint blush on his cheeks before he vanished out the front door.
“He’s annoyingly perfect sometimes,” Nicki observed calmly with a raised eyebrow. “But then again as Merlin’s already pointing out in class the figure of King Arthur is a highly idealized figure who in his French courtly love retelling was in fact destroyed due to being too idealistic.”
“I wonder how the French knew about Lancelot and Guinevere though,” Alex remarked, grateful for the distraction. “I mean the names are different, but…maybe one of the French troubadours was a reincarnation or heard a folk tale that preserved the original story. After all, as Merlin pointed out, like Robin Hood, King Arthur is one of those heroes who is reinvented over and over to fulfill a need for a
hero. He’d have to be modernized time and time again after all the Bronze Age was a long long time ago. And from what Merlin said about even the oldest Welsh texts there was already a lot wrong with the story by then. There doesn’t seem to be much of the original Arto in the King Arthur myth anymore.”
“True and Merlin did lecture about one of the local variations where Arthur had sons and a full sister. It’s hard to imagine trying to find the original story in all of that,” Nicki pointed out.
“I wonder what he was really like,” Alex remarked. “If he was like Arthur, or Arthur is like him I suppose. Merlin and Morgana don’t talk about him much, but he’s the start of all of it.”
“Well, Morgana and Merlin seem to like Arthur so there’s probably some similarity between them,” Nicki offered gently. “He’s a nice guy: I understand why you like him so much.”
Blushing, Alex smiled and nodded, looking down at the floor. “I still can’t believe that we’re going out. After he kissed me when the gate was created I was really happy, but part of me expected for Merlin and Morgana to forbid us dating or something or for him to change his mind. He’s just so wonderful, he’s smart, supportive and he forgave Jenny and Lance.”