Merlin and the Land of Mists Book Three: Galahad

by P. J. Cormack

  With an almost contemptuous move Galahad drove it towards Merlin and then buried his sword deep into the Silver Warrior’s chest. Galahad had expected it to fall at the boy enchanter’s feet but instead it just exploded in a rather theatrical flash of silver smoke.

  “That was better,” Merlin told him choosing yet another piece of grass to chew.

  “I’m glad you approve,” Galahad said drily, then a worried look crossed the boy’s face, “Did he feel pain?”

  “He?” Merlin queried.

  “The Silver Warrior,” Galahad continued to look worried, “Did he feel any pain?”

  Merlin sighed and carefully removed the grass stalk from his mouth, “He does not exist,” he told the fair haired boy, “He never did exist. I just conjured him up from my imagination to give you something to fight.”

  “Well I beat him – eventually,” Galahad said with some satisfaction.

  Merlin sighed extravagantly and appeared to be studying his grass stalk with great interest.

  “What is the most important thing in a sword fight?” He asked the would-be boy warrior.

  “To kill your opponent,” Galahad replied.

  “No, it’s not” Merlin drew his attention away from his apparently fascinating grass stalk and looked straight at the boy. “It’s not to be killed by your opponent,” the boy enchanter stressed the words ‘not’ and ‘by’ as if he was speaking to a small child.

  “I’ll try to remember that, Raven Boy,” Galahad said stung by what he considered to be an undeserved insult.

  “And I’ll tell you another thing,” Merlin continued.

  “If you must,” the boy replied bracing himself for yet another insult.

  “My father was right,” Merlin told him this time almost smiling, “You do come from a mighty warrior stock.”

  Galahad looked stunned. It was very much as if the boy enchanter had punched him in the face. The last thing the boy warrior had expected was a compliment.

  “Thank you, Raven Boy,” Galahad almost stuttered the words out.

  “And you can call me, Merlin,” Merlin told him.

  Galahad thought about that and then shook his head, “I would prefer to still call you the Raven Boy,” he said humbly. “Perhaps when I have helped to save Avalon then I will feel that I have earned the right to call you by your true name.”

  Merlin held the piece of grass up and squinted at it in the strong sunlight, “But not Myrrdin Emrys,” he suggested looking sideways at Galahad.

  “Not unless you wish it,” the fair haired boy said.

  “Very definitely not,” Merlin told him this time stressing every word so as not to leave the boy in any doubt of what he thought of that idea.

  Galahad nodded to show that he had got the message, “Do you wish me to fight again?” He asked the dark haired boy enchanter.

  Merlin shook his head. “No,” he told the boy, “But you will another day and against very much better swordsmen.”

  Galahad gave a mock groan, “Thank you,” he told the boy enchanter.

  Merlin finally threw his much chewed grass stalk away and turned fully to look at Galahad.

  “I have learned all I needed to know today,” he said.

  “And what was that?” Galahad asked expecting some kind of insult once more.

  “That you have courage and that you possess great skill and, as my father says, I can trust you with my life.”

  Galahad was so stunned by the boy enchanter’s words that, for a moment, he was unable to say anything. This Raven Boy was full of surprises, the boy thought to himself, and for all his strange ways and often down right rudeness he was not that hard to like – eventually that was.

  Merlin took advantage of Galahad’s confusion to make the stone warrior statues pivot around and then once more, with the sound of granite grinding on granite, there slid back into the ground and Galahad’s battlefield again became one of Avalon’s pleasant, rolling meadows.

  Galahad sheathed his sword and, pushing the damp hair out of his eyes, ran to catch up with Merlin who had already began his walk back towards Mo Dhachaidh. There was a question that Galahad wanted to ask Merlin but he wasn’t sure how to ask it. In the end he decided to just come out with it.

  “How does your father know so much about me?”

  Merlin stopped in mid-stride and seemed to think hard as to how much to tell the boy about his father Mithras Invictus, the greatest of the Elder gods. In the end the boy came to very much the same conclusion that Galahad had done – to just tell it as it was.

  “I was god-born,” he told the fair haired boy warrior, “My father is Mithras Invictus, Mithras the Unconquered and the greatest of the Elder gods.”

  Merlin waited for the boy to disbelieve him and to throw some trite remark back at him but Galahad just thought about it and then looked with some concern at the boy enchanter. Galahad had no memory of the gods just as he had no memory of anything but he was certain from Merlin’s tone of voice that the boy was telling him the truth. In a way it was easy to believe because it explained so much about the Raven Boy. Galahad didn’t know or remember much but even he knew that it was not normal to talk with a raven and have a more than two hundred year old ghoul for a friend. Also there was the ability to conjure Silver Warriors from the air and that was most certainly not normal.

  “That must take an awful lot of living up to, having a god for a father,” he said his concern showing in his face.

  Merlin gave the boy warrior one of his rare smiles, “Not really,” he told him, “And it does annoy an awful lot of people.”

  “This seemed a strange reply to Galahad, “Such as?” He asked.

  “Uther Pendragon,” Merlin replied with an almost mischievous smile.

  “Who’s he?” Galahad questioned.

  “The king of Camelot.”

  “Well”, Galahad said to the boy enchanter, “You can’t say that life is ever boring around you, Raven Boy, and that’s a fact.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  AVALON

  CAMELOT CASTLE

  THE GREAT THRONE ROOM

  King Uther Pendragon sat on Camelot’s high backed Great Throne as was his right as King of Camelot, King of Avalon and Lord of the Marches and he was not a happy man. In fact Camelot’s king was in one towering rage and most of it was being directed at Camelot’s High Mage and although Sir Lauriston du Lac and Queen Alona, were trying desperately to calm the king down they were having very little success.

  “Galapas, I am most displeased,” King Uther Pendragon thundered at the High Mage.

  “With me, sire,” Galapas asked in his most innocent sounding voice.

  “With you and others,” the king roared, going off even his ‘loudness’ scale.

  “I am sorry if I have done something that has annoyed you, sire.” Galapas tried to placate his increasingly unstable king while wishing, and not for the first time, that it was Uther’s elder brother King Ambrosius who was still sat on Camelot’s Great Throne.

  “It is what you have not done,” Camelot’s king shouted at the High Mage, “What you have not done, Galapas,” the king repeated stressing the word ‘not’ at an almost impossibly high volume.

  “I don’t understand, sire,” Galapas told the king which was, in fact, the truth for all that King Uther Pendragon had done was to shout at Camelot’s High Mage without actually telling him why he was shouting.

  “I expect to know everything,” the king roared reaching if possible a few more decibels of ‘loudness’, “Everything that is happening in my realm.”

  “Of course, sire, that is your right” Galapas agreed while making a note to bring some ear plugs next time he was summoned to Camelot’s Court.

  “It is more than my right, I am your king,” King Uther Pendragon’s face was now a deep red colour and Galapas thought that this was not healthy. Not healthy for him nor the king, he decided ruefully.

  “Surely my loyalty in not in question?” Galapas asked mildly not wishing to
inflame the king any further.

  “Of course not, Galapas. I’m sure the king does not mean that.” It was Queen Alona who spoke. The queen was well aware of her husband’s temper and more often than not she could calm King Uther Pendragon down, or at least make him see reason. She also happened to like Camelot’s High Mage but unfortunately this time it didn’t seem to be working.

  “That is just what I mean,” the king thundered forth again.

  Camelot’s Knight Commander Sir Lauriston du Lac attempted to intervene for he too liked Camelot’s High Mage and appreciated all that Galapas had done to keep Camelot and Avalon safe not only during King Uther Pendragon’s reign but also that of his elder brother, King Ambrosius.

  “Sire, if I may….” Camelot’s Knight Commander began but King Uther Pendragon would have none of it.

  “You may not,” the king snapped at the man who was supposed to be his closest friend and confidant. Then the king turned his anger back onto the High Mage once more.

  “I have heard, Galapas,” the king loudly continued, “That a tourney field has appeared near the Great Stones of Avalon. A tourney field that materialised out of nowhere. It rose out of the ground as if by great enchantment.”

  And I know just who did it, Galapas thought to himself while making a mental note to have a word with Merlin, in fact several and possibly very loud words when he got back to Mo Dhachaidh. Even so the High Mage moderated his reply to his unstable king.

  “I assure you, sire, that such a feat is well beyond my powers.”

  “You deny that you created this tourney field,” King Uther Pendragon was like a dog with a bone that would not let go of it, “And you say that you have no knowledge of it?”

  “Indeed I do,” Galapas replied vehemently, “I most certainly do not hold that power of enchantment.”

  “A warrior was seen,” the king continued, “A warrior who seemed to appear from nowhere – in fact from out of the air. A being all encased in silver.” King Uther Pendragon’s temper was rapidly reaching explosion point once again.

  “Could Mithras Invictus have brought this about, Galapas?” Sir Lauriston looked to move the blame away from the High Mage.

  It was very tempting to pass the blame onto the Elder god but Galapas was a truthful man, “Mithras is forgetting us, Sir Lauriston,” he told the big knight, “He returns only to speak with Merlin and nothing more.”

  As soon as he had said it Galapas knew that he had made a mistake. It was not a great idea to ever mention Merlin’s name in the presence of King Uther Pendragon and in the king’s present state of mind it was positively suicidal.

  “Merlin, always Merlin,” Uther Pendragon not unexpectedly roared so that the guards who stood outside the Great Throne Room door nervously put their hands on their swords. “I hear much of Merlin but I never see him. He ignores all my summonses to come to Court.”

  “Peace, Uther,” Queen Alona put her hand on her husband’s arm in an attempt to placate him. “No one is more loyal to Camelot and Avalon than the Raven Boy,” she told him.

  “He is our only shield against the Dark Lord and the Dark Magic,” Sir Lauriston also added in a vain attempt to calm his king’s temper. It was not successful.

  “That too is what I am always hearing,” the king retorted his voice seeming to rise an impossible extra decibel. “Did I and Sir Lauriston and the Knights of Camelot do nothing to confront this Dark Lord and his Dark Forces?”

  “Of course you all did,” Queen Alona said in her quiet, melodious voice, “But Merlin is our protector against the Dark Magic.”

  “I’m told,” King Uther continued and his voice now took on a dangerous tone. “That Merlin was at this tourney ground and he had another with him. One who fought with outstanding bravery and skill.”

  “That would be Galahad,” Galapas informed his king.

  “And who is this ‘Galahad’ and where is it he comes from?” King Uther Pendragon loudly demanded.

  “He knows only his name,” Galapas told the disbelieving king, “He appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the night and among the Great Stones of Avalon. The boy knows only his name, that he was sent by Myrrdin Emrys and that he should seek Merlin.”

  “And you believe this fairy tale?” King Uther Pendragon demanded of his High Mage.

  “How do we know that this Galahad wasn’t sent by the Dark Lord to kill the Raven Boy?” Sir Lauriston asked for he too had grave reservations about Galahad.

  “Galahad has no magic,” Camelot’s High Mage patiently explained, “He would have no answer to Merlin’s powers.”

  “Are you sure of this, Galapas?” Queen Alona quietly asked her face a mask of concern for the boy enchanter.

  “Yes, my lady,” Galapas turned to face the queen and was glad to get out of King Uther Pendragon’s firing line, “And Merlin has spoken with his father about Galahad for he too did not trust Galahad at first.”

  “What did Mithras Invictus say?” Queen Alona asked.

  “That Merlin could trust Galahad with his life,”

  “What else did he say?” The king questioned.

  “I don’t know, sire,” the High Mage admitted, “Merlin wouldn’t tell me.”

  “You should make him tell you,” the king heavily stressed the ‘make’.

  “I’m afraid that would not be possible, sire. Not by me nor anyone,” the High Mage let his words hang in the air.

  “That we shall, one day, see,” the king said leaning back on the Great Throne.

  “Who is this Myrrdin Emrys?” Sir Lauriston asked. Camelot’s Knight Commander had not heard the name before.

  “Merlin wouldn’t tell me that either,” Galapas admitted, “But he did say that it was rather funny.”

  “The Raven Boy is not known for his sense of humour,” Sir Lauriston pointed out bleakly.

  Queen Alona thought that unfair, she had seen the boy smile up at her when she met him in Manta Gore and she suspected that he had a wicked sense of humour that probably only his close friends saw and which certainly wouldn’t ever be seen at Camelot’s Court.

  “Neither are you,” the queen told Sir Lauriston somewhat mischievously.

  The king leant forward on his throne and gave the High Mage one of his coldest hard stares, “Who do you think this Galahad is, Galapas, is he a threat to Camelot?”

  “I have no idea who he is, sire,” Galapas replied quite truthfully, “But I suspect that he is from the Past or from the Future.”

  “Is that possible?” All this seemed like quite unbelievable to the king, he was a man who fought his enemies with his strong sword arm and all this talk of magic and time travel was completely alien to him.

  “It is certainly possible,” Galapas replied while being fully aware of how far-fetched this must sound to King Uther Pendragon. “But it could only be accomplished by the very greatest enchantment.”

  “Merlin again,” the king almost spat out the boy enchanter’s name.

  “No, sire, such magic would be beyond even Merlin. Perhaps one day but certainly not now.”

  Even the king looked baffled at this, “Then who?” He asked.

  “Presumably this Myrrdin Emrys,” Galapas suggested.

  “Surely our records would show a Mage of such power,” Queen Alona said, “He would never be forgotten and the minstrels would sing his praises for a thousand years.”

  “Yes, my lady, I believe that they would,” the High Mage agreed.

  “Then this Galahad must come from the Future,” Sir Lauriston put in as it seemed to be the most logical conclusion and Camelot’s Knight Commander, unlike his king, was a firm believer in magic and enchantment.

  “This I find almost totally unbelievable,” King Uther Pendragon gave his impression of an erupting volcano once more, “Galapas, you will instruct this Galahad and Merlin that they will present themselves at Court within the next three days – or I will send men to drag them to Camelot.

  There was no doubting the menace of the king’s wo
rds but Galapas knew that this would be an impossible threat. Not even Camelot’s Knights could force Merlin to come to Camelot, the boy ran with all the Old Magic of his father, Mithras Invictus, the greatest of the Elder gods. It would be a very unwise man who tried to bully Mithras Invictus’ son. Even so Galapas, as ever, tried to placate his king.

  “Sire, I really don’t….” and that was as far as Camelot’s High Mage got before the volcano that was King Uther Pendragon finally exploded.

  “Enough,” the king roared at Galapas but included all of them in his angry stare. “This matter is now closed. Remember three days, Galapas, and see that you deliver my message.”

  The High Mage knew from past experience that there was no arguing with King Uther Pendragon when the king was in this mood and he didn’t much fancy a spell in Camelot’s inhospitable dungeons either.

  “It will be as you say, sire,” Galapas agreed and he could well imagine what the son of Mithras Invictus would say to this command and it would most definitely not be polite.

  CHAPTER TEN

  AVALON

  THE GREAT STONES

  The stones statues had once more risen out of the ground by Merlin’s enchantment and with the sound of granite grinding on granite they had turned inwards to face the battleground whose apparently magical appearance had caused King Uther Pendragon so much annoyance. Galahad stood by the boy enchanter’s side waiting to see just what warrior Merlin was going to create for him to fight.

  Once the boy enchanter was satisfied that everything was as it should be a warrior started to appear in the very centre of the tourney field. At first it appeared as a mere shadow that could almost be a trick of the light then it became a fully formed figure of a man who was very obviously a fine warrior but not of Galahad’s or Merlin’s time. The man was well muscled and taller than the Silver Warrior that Galahad had fought before. This fighter had a confidence about him that was, even for Galahad, intimidating and he was not dressed in armour or a mail shirt but in an older Greek style tunic with a large shield and crested helmet. In his right hand he held a very wicked looking short stabbing sword.