Merlin and the Land of Mists Book Three: Galahad

by P. J. Cormack

  “Who is this?” Galahad asked the boy enchanter.

  “His name is Hector,” Merlin told him, “He was one of the great heroes of the Trojan Wars.”

  “Hector?” Galahad queried for the name meant nothing to him.

  “He was the greatest and most successful of all the Trojan warriors. He was the son of King Priam, the king of Troy.”

  This was all very interesting Galahad thought to himself but it wasn’t what he really wanted to know, “Who did he kill?” Seemed more to the point for the fair haired boy warrior.

  “He killed many men,” Merlin told him, “And always with great skill and honour. Then he too was slain.”

  “So he was not that good,” Galahad suggested after all he had ended up being killed by somebody who was obviously a more skilful fighter.

  “He was killed by the greatest swordsman of the Trojan Wars,” Merlin said grimly, “Probably the greatest warrior ever, he was slain by Achilles.”

  Galahad made an instant decision, “I do not want to fight this Hector,” he told Merlin.

  “Why not?” The boy enchanter asked in surprise, he certainly hadn’t been expecting Galahad to ‘chicken’ out of the fight.

  “He lost,” the fair haired boy told him, “I want to fight the warrior who beat him, I want to fight Achilles.”

  Merlin shook his head, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  “Nevertheless, that is who I will fight.”

  “You must like getting hurt,” Merlin told him bluntly, “You won’t beat Achilles, no one ever could.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Galahad said drily loosening his sword in its scabbard, “Even if I lose…..”

  “Not if…..when, “Merlin corrected him drily. “When you lose.”

  “If I lose,” Galahad replied stressing the word ‘if’, “If I lose I will learn more from a hard defeat than I will from an easy victory.”

  “Hector would be no easy victory, I can promise you that,” Merlin said, “In fact I’m not sure that you could ever beat him.”

  “Perhaps not,” the boy warrior agreed, “But you said that Achilles could.”

  Merlin gave a mirthless laugh, “Achilles could beat everyone and anyone,” he said, “I don’t think that there has been a warrior born who could beat him, not yet anyway.” The boy corrected himself for he knew that there was one to come who would be born and who would have been more than capable of standing against the mighty Achilles. One who would pull Mithras’s Sword from the Great Stone that held it for him and who would be such a king as the world had never seen before.

  “I will learn more from fighting Achilles than Hector,” Galahad stubbornly repeated.

  “This is going to hurt,” Merlin warned the boy warrior.

  “I know it is,” Galahad agreed, he had no doubt of that but still he was determined to fight this Achilles.

  “This is going to hurt a lot,” Merlin stressed the words ‘a lot’ so as to leave the boy in no doubt as to what was waiting for him if he fought the legendary Greek warrior.

  “Raven Boy,” Galahad said, “Just get on with it.”

  Merlin gave an exaggerated sigh of resignation, “Alright,” he agreed, “But I promise you one thing.”

  “What’s that?” Galahad asked suspiciously.

  “It’s going to hurt in the morning.”

  “Raven Boy,” Galahad almost shouted in exasperation.

  “On your head be it,” Merlin told the fair haired boy.

  Hector faded away and in his place appeared the figure of Achilles, the Greek hero was tall and blonde and wore his hair long. He was dressed in a black breast plate and carried a large round shield that was also black but edged with gold. His helmet was black with a black plume and there was no doubt that he would have been very conspicuous in any battle. Startling blue eyes looked out from behind the helmet and the warrior wore a short sword in his scabbard as well as carrying a wicked looking spear.

  “Are you quite sure that you want to do this?” Merlin gave the boy one last chance to back out.

  “Let’s just get it started,” Galahad told the boy enchanter more brusquely than he meant to.

  “He’s all yours.”

  Galahad stalked over to the black armoured figure keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Achilles. The boy had learnt enough from the Silver Warrior to not let down his guard at any time. The icy blue eyes of the Greek warrior watched Galahad approach and the boy thought that he could see an element of humour in them and it surprised him.

  Achilles didn’t move at all as Galahad warily circled him, trying to see what would be the most favourable spot to attack. Then Achilles attacked with blinding speed, one moment he appeared to be standing almost without interest in front of Galahad, the next he had leapt high and driven his spear deep into the boy’s neck. Without a word the fair haired boy crumpled and lay very still on the ground while Achilles went back to his ‘ready’ position once more.

  With a sigh Merlin wandered over to Galahad’s apparently lifeless body and prodded the boy with his foot.

  “Get up,” he told the boy without any sympathy, after all he had warned Galahad.

  The boy stirred and gazed up at Merlin almost as if he couldn’t understand what was happening. Then he gathered his wits and sat up rubbing his shoulder where Achilles had driven his spear hard into him.

  “Ow,” seemed to be all the boy warrior could say at first. “You were right,” he told Merlin, “That did hurt a lot.”

  “He’s very good isn’t he?” Merlin said in his best ‘I told you so’ manner.

  “He’s very, very good,” Galahad confirmed climbing to his feet, “But he won’t get me with that move next time.”

  “You’re going to fight him again?” Merlin asked, the boy enchanter was surprised for he would have thought that ‘one dose of Achilles’ was enough for anyone in their right mind.

  Climbing to his feet Galahad walked over to where the Greek hero stood waiting for him. Merlin had to admit that the boy warrior had courage for every step that Galahad took was full of determination.

  The fair haired boy stood opposite the Greek warrior and lifted his broadsword once more. Looking up at the black plumed helmet Galahad thought that he once more saw a hint of amusement in the warrior’s icy blue eyes. Then there was no time for any thought other than ‘staying alive’ as Achilles attacked with his lightning speed.

  It was all that Galahad could do to block the warrior’s powerful attacks and there seemed no time for the boy to launch any of his own. Achilles drove Galahad backwards and the boy thought he saw Achilles’ eyes briefly flick to his neck and thought ‘I know what you are going to do next’. Even as the thought flashed through the boy’s mind Achilles leapt in the air and drove his spear powerfully down at the boy.

  Although he had been ready for the move Galahad barely had the time to block the spear thrust with his broadsword but just in the nick of time his sword knocked the spear aside and then Galahad and Achilles were circling one another again.

  The boy decided that he was getting a bit tired of being a ‘punch bag’ and that it was time for him to launch some attacks of his own. Swinging the broadsword around him Galahad drove with all his strength at the warrior who stood before him. But it didn’t matter what he did for Achilles seemed to know about it before the boy did and there was always a shield or spear blocking, apparently with little effort, every attack that Galahad made. There had to be a reason for this the boy decided and stared hard at the hero of the Trojan Wars.

  ‘He never takes his eyes off my face’ Galahad decided and then ‘perhaps I look at where I’m going to attack, so that’s how he knows what I am going to do’.

  As these thoughts were going through his mind Achilles turned sideways and once more leapt at Galahad with his spear. The boy tried to block the spear thrust but was too slow and the spear drove hard down into Galahad’s neck once more. As the boy crashed to the ground he made a mental note to h
imself ‘do not lose concentration when fighting’ and then everything went black.

  With a sigh Merlin chose another particularly juicy grass stalk and inserted it into his mouth before wandering over to look down at Galahad. The boy warrior’s eyes flickered open and at first he seemed to have trouble focusing them. He sat up rubbing the place in his neck where Achilles’ spear had ‘driven into’ him.

  “Ow, Ow,” seemed to be all that Galahad could say.

  “I thought that you said that he wasn’t going to get you with that move again,” Merlin said removing the grass stalk from his mouth and apparently studying it with great interest.

  Groggily the boy warrior climbed to his feet and retrieved his broadsword from where it had slipped from his hand as he had crashed to the earth.

  “Saying is one thing, doing is another,” the boy warrior told him with his cold, hard stare.

  “Obviously,” Merlin said returning his concentration to the grass stalk once more.

  “I’ll tell you this,” Galahad told the boy enchanter.

  “What?”

  “He’s definitely not going to get me with that move this time.

  With an exaggerated sigh Merlin sat down cross-legged on the grass.

  “It will hurt even more this time,” he said squinting up at Galahad.

  “You think I’m going to lose again?” The boy warrior said.

  “I’m absolutely certain of it,” Merlin replied again with very little sympathy.

  Galahad stalked over to the figure of the huge warrior hero. There was a determination in every step that the boy took but even so Merlin was certain that the result of the fight would be exactly the same as the first two.

  The boy warrior thought that he had once more caught a glimpse of amusement in Achilles’ icy blue eyes but put it down to imagination, after all this was only an illusion conjured up by Merlin, wasn’t it?

  Achilles attacked with no warning and with a blinding speed that left Galahad almost breathless. The warrior leapt high to drive his short sword down into Galahad’s neck as he had done at their first encounter. Galahad had told Merlin that he wasn’t going to be caught like that again and he was true to his word. As Achilles’ spear flashed down in its ‘killing’ stroke Galahad blocked it and swept it as aside at the same time launching his own attack and his broadsword crashed heavily into Achilles’ black shield. If the hero was surprised by the boy’s attack he gave no sign of it. Then the warrior came hard and fast at Galahad, the warrior’s spear whirled at such a rate that it was impossible to see it as it was just a blur for such was the speed that Achilles handled it.

  Galahad was forced to give ground as the hero bore down on him attacking from all sides. Most of Galahad’s defence lacked any form of finesse for he was concentrating purely on staying ‘alive’ in the face of the great skill of the Trojan War’s finest warrior-hero.

  The boy was very aware that he was tiring, his blonde hair was matted with dark sweat and his sword arm seemed to weigh a ton. Even so Galahad was determined to fight for as long as he could stay on his feet. Achilles seemed tireless and as far as Galahad could see the hero wasn’t even breathing hard.

  For a moment Achilles paused in his attack as if summing up his small opponent and it was then that the boy saw his opening. Galahad knew that there was no point in attacking Achilles’ head or body, the hero was just too good for that and would beat the attack effortlessly away with his large shield. Instead Galahad attacked the large spear that Achilles carried and his broadsword crashed hard down on it shattering its shaft. Galahad thought that he saw a hint of approval in the ice blue eyes as the warrior threw down the shattered spear and drew his short, evil looking sword.

  One glance at the sword was enough to make the boy warrior wonder if it had been such a good idea to force the warrior-hero into changing weapons. The sword looked like one of the most dangerous weapons that the boy had ever seen in his whole life.

  Once again Achilles attacked without warning and leapt high at the Galahad driving the sword down at the boy’s neck exactly as he had done with the spear. The warrior must have killed a lot of men with that move Galahad thought to himself but again the boy blocked the killing blow with his broadsword so that his opponents attack was turned away. Sweat was now running so heavily down into the boy’s eyes so that he was finding it hard to see the warrior clearly and the weight of his broadsword was constantly dragging his sword arm towards the floor. Achilles saw his chance and crashed his shield hard into Galahad and the boy was swept off his feet with his broadsword dropping from his hand to land at the feet of the legendary warrior.

  Achilles walked casually over to where Galahad lay and lifted his arm for the killing blow. At the very last minute the boy rolled away from the sword thrust and climbed to his feet with the remains of Achilles’ broken spear in his hand. The boy stood desperately tired and bruised as he watched the hero’s steady confident approach and he knew exactly what the warrior was going to do.

  Achilles was going to try to finish him off with that leaping downward thrust and Galahad knew that if he could drive the spear upwards as the warrior leapt at him he could cut straight into his opponent’s heart. Achilles came fast and hard at Galahad and the boy saw the hero gather himself for the leaping attack and Galahad knew that he would then kill his opponent.

  It was a great plan but unfortunately for Galahad Achilles had seen in the boy’s eyes exactly what the boy warrior intended to do. At the very moment that it looked as if Achilles was going for his killing leap the hero checked himself. Galahad had lifted the spear anticipating the high attack but instead Achilles bent low and drove his sword up into the boy’s exposed chest.

  It was a terrific blow that would have killed any man on Earth and without a sound Galahad fell heavily sideways with Achilles’ sword protruding out of his back for such had been the strength of the warrior-hero’s blow that it had driven clean through the boy’s body. Without a word the Greek hero pulled his sword clear from Galahad’s prone body and walked back to exactly the same spot that he had stood before the start of the contest.

  With a sigh Merlin found himself another grass stalk to chew and wandered over to where the once more apparently lifeless body of the boy warrior lay.

  “Get up,” Merlin ordered prodding the boy again with his foot.

  Galahad opened his eyes, “Ow, Ow, Ow,” he said very much as he had said before, “That hurt even more.”

  “It will,” Merlin told him without an ounce of sympathy, “Every time you lose it will hurt more – a lot more,” the boy enchanter finished with some relish.

  “Have you done that?” Galahad asked suspiciously squinting up at Merlin.

  “Certainly have,” the boy enchanter confirmed, “I thought you said that he wouldn’t get you with that move again?”

  “He didn’t,” Galahad told the boy bluntly, “It was a completely different one and I hadn’t seen that move before either.”

  “I think you’ll find that he’s got a lot of those,” Merlin said, “A lot of moves that you haven’t seen before. This is actually getting a bit monotonous,” the boy enchanter said as he helped Galahad to get to his feet.

  “I’m trying my best – Ow” the boy warrior put his hand gingerly to the side of his head. It might be impossible for Achilles to kill him but there seemed to be nothing preventing the Greek hero from handing out a very large number of bumps and bruises.

  “I did tell you….” Merlin began but Galahad cut him off in mid-sentence.

  “I know, that it’s going to hurt in the morning. Actually it’s hurting a lot right now.”

  Merlin adopted his best ‘I told you so’ attitude, “I did warn you.”

  “You do ‘smug’ very well, don’t you?” Galahad replied with another of his cold, hard stares, “I’m going to have another go at him.”

  “No,” the boy enchanter told him firmly and clapped his hands together so that Achilles immediately disappeared. “That is more than e
nough for today, watching you constantly being battered can get a bit boring, you know.”

  “Just one more go at Achilles,” Galahad pleaded.

  “No,” Merlin told the boy in a voice that would brook no argument and for that instance was the very image of the Elder god who was his father.

  With a sigh Galahad picked up his broadsword and slung it on his shoulder, he pushed the damp, sweat stained hair from his eyes, “There are times when I’m tempted to call you Myrrdin Emrys. You’re as grumpy as any old man.”

  Merlin turned away from the Galahad, he didn’t want the boy to see him smiling, “If you do that, I’ll turn you into a toad,” he told the boy warrior.

  “Can you actually do that?”

  “That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” Merlin replied.

  “Then I think that I’ll stick to Raven Boy,” Galahad said in mock horror.

  “That would be very sensible,” Merlin told him while still trying to hide the smile that insisted on coming to his face.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE SKIES BEYOND BRITANNIA

  The clouds beyond the Isle of Britannia were not behaving as clouds should. They were swirling as if they were held in the hand of some titan or gigantic figure. A sound like a drumbeat echoed out from the very depths of the clouds. It was either a drumbeat or the sound of some enormous heart that reverberated across the skies. As the clouds reached the edges of Britannia they took on more of a form and they looked greedily down at the green pastures and forests that lay beneath them. Then the clouds twisted again so that they became the shape of a face but a face that was many miles wide and high. This was not the face of the Dark Lord, as might have been expected, but it was equally malevolent for this was the face of the Lord of Chaos and the sound that could be heard was the Heartbeat of the Lord of Chaos.