by Billy Wong
He turned back to Merlin. "So you say the fey are out to get you. Why would they want to do that?"
"Perhaps they regret teaching me their great magics, and wish to take back their exclusive dominion over that power."
"I highly doubt that."
"Or maybe they view the continuing growth of our great nation as a potential threat to their people."
He didn't want to think it could be true, that he might have to fight again to preserve the kingdom he'd worked so hard to build. Arthur had no qualms about fighting for what was right; except he was old now, and tired of battle. He wasn't the strong young warrior who had founded the greatest kingdom on Earth. No, he was a weary, aging ruler, and doubtful if he had the strength for another war. Luckily, he was still pretty sure Merlin was, for once, wrong.
"I'll keep your warning in mind, and act if I must."
"But shouldn't we act now, and stop them before they can do us harm?"
"Not until we have clearer evidence they truly do plot against us." He wouldn't risk alienating the people who had given them so much help that easily.
"All right, Arthur. I only hope you do not blind yourself to that evidence when it does appear." The wizard stood and left, walking faster and straighter than he'd seen in years. On one hand, Merlin's mind seemed to be suffering the ravages of age. On the other, his body moved with a new youthful vigor. What in heaven's name was happening to the man?
Guinevere leaned closer to him, speaking meekly into his ear. "You should listen to him, my lord. He is right in most things."
He had been, once. But she did not know Merlin like he did. If not for the little oddities in his manner, Arthur might have given more weight to what he'd said about the fey. As it was, it seemed more likely Merlin was degenerating before his eyes into a paranoid madman.
"No man is always right, and it's best to consider all the evidence before making hasty decisions. I'll keep his warning in mind, but I won't act prematurely and chance making something out of nothing."
He had avoided the subject of Merlin's mental state out of consideration for her, but Guinevere saw right through him. "You don't trust him anymore, do you?"
"He's been acting awfully strange."
The lines of her forehead deepened as she looked at him. "He's a wizard. Their ways are supposed to be strange."
"I meant for him, not just in general terms."
"But what if he's right? What if the fey do indeed plot our doom?"
"Don't worry, love. Haven't I seen us through every trouble we've had to face?"
"With Merlin's help," she reminded him. "He was always there for you. And now you ignore him because of your faith in your own wisdom, when it was his that allowed Camelot to be built. I hope this will not be our downfall."
He took a deep breath and touched her face, smiling. "I do not forget what Merlin has done for us, and that he has always been our greatest ally. But times change, and with them all other things. When things seem unclear, if we do not trust our own hearts above all else, then what are we to trust?"
"Why not what has been proven? The source of wisdom that has served us well in the past."
He thought he'd made a strong, even quotable, point just now, and she still argued. "I am king, and what I say goes. You are right Merlin is a greater seer than I, and probably wiser in most ways, but I must follow what I believe. So stop with your useless prattle, and trust me as you should."
Guinevere turned away. Having seen the fright in her eyes at his flash of temper, Arthur felt a bit of guilt, but chose not to apologize. He loved her, but she could be stupid sometimes, and when she was a bit of unease might do good to teach her a lesson. Why would she not trust him? Merlin? Yes, the wizard had helped more than a bit. But Camelot was Arthur's kingdom, not Merlin's, and everyone would do well to remember that. In the end, it was Excalibur that would rend the heart of any foe who dared threaten his sacred land.
#
Nimue pulled at her hair while she hurried down the hall in Merlin's guise, furious at Arthur's rejection of her plans. When the real Merlin had spoken, the king always gave him more consideration than that. What did she still lack, that made the weight of her words inferior to her old master's?
She'd thought Merlin's identity would put the kingdom firmly in the palm of her hand, but no; apparently Arthur was not quite as easy a pawn as she expected. She'd have to find another means of completing her quest. Just then, she felt her face collide with a hard surface. She fell hard on her butt and looked up at the metal hulk she'd walked into.
"L-lord Merlin!" the young knight sputtered. "I'm so sorry."
His broad face was not so familiar to her, and younger than most of the knights who frequented these halls. It took Nimue a few moments to recognize him. "Sir Percival, am I correct?" The latest inductee into the brotherhood of the Round Table, and Arthur's new favorite among his knights.
"Yes, my lord. Are you alright?"
Of course she was all right! The lively pain in her nose rather pleased her. Studying Percival's innocent face, she got an idea. "You haven't harmed me. But now that I see what a fine knight you are, I have a task with which I'd like to charge you. Listen well, for your success may mean the difference between Camelot's survival and its imminent destruction."
#
"I'm glad you've found a man so understanding of you," Morgan said as mother and daughter sat together in Mildy's cozy though humble bedroom. They had just come from a successful bandit hunt, and now the women talked while the men washed up.
"Galahad's not my man," Mildy said with a sigh, "just a friend. He made it clear he wouldn't be my man long ago. We're no more lovers than me and Lance."
"Then it's good you have another friend."
"I still have so few. Maybe I should visit the fey some more. They seemed more accepting of me than most men are."
"I like that idea. Speaking of the fey, they've apparently gained a new enemy."
Mildy's ears perked up. "What? Who?"
"I don't know exactly, and most people are as unaware as you. But while you were away, I was talking to my forest friends, and it seems new knights have taken Ironheart's place. Knights who attack the faeries while claiming to act in the name of good, against the devil's spawn."
Just like the dead Norseman. Coincidence? Probably not. "We'll check it out. I'm sure Irethine misses his faerie friends."
"I wish there was something I could do to help. The fey took care of me when I needed it the most, and all I can do is ask for your aid."
Mildy took her hand and smiled. "Don't worry about it, Mom. We can't all be warriors, and I'm glad to be able to help."
"And I'm grateful for it, Mildred. You're everything a mother could hope for in a son."
They burst into laughter together. "Your real son thinks you're dead," Mildy said when they were finished. "Maybe you could go visit him sometime, show him you're all right."
Morgan blinked. "Gawain? I'm sure he doesn't miss me. I haven't seen him since he was a little boy."
"I missed you, and I didn't even know who you were. I just knew I didn't have a mommy."
"I suppose you're right. We'd have to set up a meeting somewhere away from Camelot, then."
Mildy didn't want to imagine what might happen if Arthur encountered his sister now, when Morgan hated him so. Her mother still wanted her father dead, and Mildy might well be forced to choose between them if they met. She'd help Morgan if it came to that, having grown to know and love her. And they'd die, hacked to bits by Arthur's knights.
"I think he'd like you, more than me at least. You know how to behave. As long as you don't mention your hatred of Arthur, that is."
"I wouldn't. Galahad has a point, you know. You needn't keep hoarding the Holy Grail like it's your personal toy."
Mildy' lips pressed together in an apprehensive line. "Mom, I told you. I don't want wars breaking out over the thing."
"If you gave to it to someone powerful enough, I'm sure they could prote
ct it from whoever tried to take it."
"Like who? I can only think of King Arthur, and you hate him."
"I don't know. But I'm sure the Grail could do more good available to the people, than hidden with you."
Did everyone think that? It would be true if everybody was good and could actually resolve their issues peacefully. But the world wasn't like that, and Mildy feared the chaos the Grail's unveiling might bring.
"I don't know who's right, Mom. All I know is that I won the Grail, and I have to follow what I believe."
"I know, Mildred. Whatever happens, I love you."
She caught a lurking sadness in her mother's voice. "What's wrong?"
"It's so hard living in this world. I wish I could be back in faerieland."
"You can go there, if you want. I won't stop you."
"I didn't mean it literally." Morgan looked wistfully into space. "I was talking about the hardships and confusion of really living. I'm not used to them anymore, after isolating myself for so long. But I don't want to go back. You wouldn't go, and I won't lose you again."
"Will you be alright?"
"I'll have to be, I suppose. I don't regret it. I found you, my beautiful, and you really are everything I could hope for in a child."
Mildy smiled. "Even though I'm not a real gentlewoman?"
"You're better. You're a brave, strong, and caring lady knight, who always stands up for what she believes in."
"That's exactly what most people hate me for."
"They don't know you."
"No, they don't. And that's why I don't give a damn about what they think!"
#
Ares couldn't believe where they were going. He'd just recently had a very close brush with death, and now he had to endure this? He had no problem with helping the fey, but... "Wales, Milady? And northern Wales, at that?"
"That's where the last attacks happened, yes. And? Galahad hasn't made any complaint."
"Galahad's from Wales, remember? I'm Greek, and thinner than either of you. I'm going to freeze to death!"
Mildy rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a whiner. It'll toughen you up a little, I think."
"Have you ever even been to Wales?"
"Once."
"And was it warm?"
"It was fine. Ares, whatever happened to trying not to be a coward?"
"You can't fight the cold with a sword."
"No, but it can't stab you either. Just wear a second cloak if you're so worried. Your armor's light enough that you can afford to."
"When am I going to get a full suit of plate like yours?" he asked, suddenly inspired.
Mildy shrugged. "Customarily, I'd say when you're a knight, but I'm not a person who listens much to custom. So you can have one refitted from one of my extra suits whenever you want."
"But you didn't give me any money to pay a blacksmith."
"I would've if you asked. I could give you some now."
"Thanks, but we don't have the time to wait for a suit now."
"Yeah, I suppose you'll have to wait until we get back." She regarded him with a curious grin. "Why the sudden interest in heavy armor? The battle with Count Gorsin? Ares, you have to train in heavy armor to get good at wearing it. Otherwise it'll just slow you down and make you an easy target."
"A harder target."
Mildy patted her belly meaningfully. "Armor isn't impenetrable."
"I know. But I was really just thinking of the thick padding underneath it. Could do me some good in Wales."
"Ares! Stop it with this cold business!"
"I didn't say I wasn't going to come. Say, you think Irethine can handle the cold?"
Apparently, she hadn't considered the unicorn's health. After a pause, she said, "I don't know. Not a horse expert."
"Ask Morgan then. She lived with fey for a couple decades."
"Mom!" Mildy yelled, and Ares wondered what she would do if it turned out Irethine couldn't survive in cold climes after all. Then again, it wasn't likely to be staying home. And though he didn't look forward to the cold, Ares decided it was all right. He did need, as she'd said, to toughen up.
#
Ares pulled his cloak tight about his body, grimacing at the cold wind that stung his face. Glancing at the Greek while they drank with two faerie lords, Mildy felt a bit sorry for bringing him to Wales. Lessons about enduring hardship aside, the pearly hilltop gazebo provided little shelter.
"You said they have magical protection from your charms," she said. "But with so many of you in your towns, can't you defeat this protection?"
Long-gowned and almost as long-haired, the female of the faeries replied, "We are not all capable of casting spells, and it seems the mage who provides these knights their wards is mighty indeed. It saddens me to admit that humans tend to make stronger mages than us faeries, even if we were the first to harness the powers of the arcane. You simply have more fortitude with which to endure the strain of spellcasting than we. But this one is remarkably strong even for a man."
Luckily, these new foes did not seem as bent on slaughter as Ironheart had been. They generally settled for driving the fey from their homes, though they didn't mind casualties. Mildy wanted to think this was because their motives were less wicked, but knew they were probably just less passionate about their cause, being merely servants of a higher authority.
"We think these knights were sent at the king's behest," added the tall, silvery-robed faerie male.
Mildy didn't want to think any kin of hers would perpetuate the slaughter of innocents. "But why would Arthur do this? What would he have to gain?"
There was a brief silence. Then Galahad said, "I don't know if he would have anything to gain, but I do know that most of his decisions are heavily influenced by his advisor Merlin."
"Merlin's gone missing," the female faerie said, "and that's exactly why we think Arthur might be responsible for these attacks."
Galahad's eyes widened, showing Mildy he was just as shocked as she. "What? We haven't heard about anything happening to Merlin. Where did you hear this?"
"Merlin began his magical education under our tutelage, and has never forgotten us. So he would always talk to us through the dream world, until he stopped abruptly little over a month ago. Very soon afterwards, the attacks began. We are very worried, and fear something dreadful has happened."
"Why hasn't news of his disappearance reached us yet, if it happened over a month ago?" Mildy asked. "Merlin's a major figure in our world. If he was gone, it should be the talk of every tavern."
"Unless someone's trying to keep it a secret," Ares said. "Like the king."
"Arthur wouldn't do anything to Merlin." Though her father's image as the perfect king no longer fooled Mildy, everyone including Morgan agreed that Arthur valued the wizard too much to ever consider harming him. "But who would benefit from Merlin's removal?"
She became aware of a nervous twitch in Galahad's lip when the male faerie replied, "Maybe his student Nimue, who aids him in his work and is being groomed to take his place? Or perhaps already has taken it, at this point. He should never have entrusted the secrets of his magic so readily to that girl." He paused. "It makes perfect sense. He did once mention she had a remarkable vitality."
"So you think she betrayed him?"
"Yes, and perhaps adopted a glamour to take his place. Otherwise, his disappearance should not have remained a secret for so long."
Mildy frowned. "But why would she betray him?"
"We do not know. He never told us much about her, except that she was a very good student. Perhaps her desire for power overrode her loyalty to her teacher in the end."
But there must be a more specific reason, especially if this was related to the attacks on the fey. Mildy turned to Galahad. "What is it you're not telling us about Nimue?"
"She's my mother," he answered flatly.
At first, she thought he was joking. But not a trace of humor escaped him. "You're serious."
"I wouldn't joke about such
a thing. Yes, she raised me from a babe, and I cannot believe she would ever do such a thing as kill Merlin for her own gain. She's too good a person."
She understood just how he felt. Mildy knew exactly what it was to have the positive image of a parent shattered by reality, and how much one would wish to deny such a harsh truth. "If you mean too good to you, you've got to realize people don't treat everyone the same."
"No, but my mother treats everyone fairly. She isn't the kind of woman who would backstab her own teacher."
"Are you sure?"
"She's my mother!"
That was more likely to worsen his judgment in this situation than improve it. Mildy decided to put the issue aside for now. "Whether Nimue's behind this or not, someone is. Now, why would anybody want to slaughter your people?"
"Perhaps they no longer want to share the power of magic," the male faerie said.
"And maybe they see us as a threat," the female added.
Ares nodded. "Maybe they think you're devilspawn."
"That's what they claimed while they wreaked havoc, according to the survivors."
Mildy's eyes narrowed, and she scowled. "Just because that's what the soldiers were told to believe or say doesn't mean it's the real reason. It's just as likely only to be a justification for the deed. Consider that bloodshed doesn't seem to be the main goal here. Whoever's behind this must want something from these faeries."
"What?" Ares asked. "No offense intended, but they don't seem to have that much."
They had happiness, or once did. But that couldn't be stolen in a material sense. And Mildy doubted whoever was behind the attacks wanted their land, being in this inconvenient mystic realm. What, then?
"Is there anything you possess so valuable, people would kill for it, but not want to reveal it as their goal for fear you would hide it?" It was a stretch, she knew. It would take one hell of a treasure to be worth so much trouble to find it; and one the exact location of which was not known, or else the knights would have simply gone after it directly.
