“But they are not here,” the queen could not mask her fear for the boy who stood in the flowing waters of Manta Gore.
“They will be when I need them.”
“Sir Lauriston could summon the Knights of Camelot to fight alongside you.”
Merlin laughed and it was a mirthless laugh for all the queen’s kindness.
“The Dark Lord would burn them to a cinder before they even moved. They might be skilful and brave but they have no magic. They could not withstand the Dark Magic, they would die, Queen Alona, every one of them,” he finished bluntly.
“Why do we not see you at court?” The queen wisely thought it best to change the subject.
For a brief moment Merlin gave one of his rare smiles, “I leave that sort of thing to others who like to strut around,” he told her, “I prefer the wild places and the animals. I don’t really fit into the ways of King Uther Pendragon’s court and anyway I don’t like wearing shoes.”
Queen Alona laughed, “I can see that could cause problems, especially with my husband.”
“It does,” Merlin ruefully told the queen.
“I’ll let you into a secret,” the queen told him conspiratorially, “I don’t like wearing shoes either and it drives Uther mad.”
For a moment Queen Alona looked very much like a small girl telling a mischievous secret and Merlin smiled up at Camelot’s queen. Alona was stunned by the change in the boy enchanter, he had looked careworn and even surly when he had first spoken with her but when smiling it was as if an enormous change had come over the boy. She knew that she had caught a glimpse of a Merlin that very few people, other than the talking animals, saw. Once again she thought how monstrous it was that she, her husband and pretty well the whole of Camelot and Avalon should lay such a burden on the shoulders of what was a very young boy. Merlin might be the son of Mithras Invictus but he was, in earth years, only eleven years old.
“I like you, Merlin,” she told the boy, “In fact I like you a lot.”
Merlin flashed her the smile again that once more changed the whole look of his face. He seemed to be about to speak but suddenly clammed up and shivered in the cold water of Manta Gore. The queen saw the transformation and it troubled her as she could see no reason or cause for it. Perhaps it was just that the boy was cold she hoped.
“I must go,” she told Merlin knowing that she would get no more from him, “Uther doesn’t know that I’ve left the castle.”
Merlin nodded as if agreeing to her words.
“I hope that we can talk again,” the queen told Merlin.
The boy didn’t answer the queen but just nodded his agreement again. Queen Alona turned and left Manta Gore, she had told the truth when she had said that King Uther Pendragon didn’t know she had left Camelot Castle. The king would certainly not be pleased if he found out what she had done and he would be even more displeased if he got to know that she had been in Manta Gore talking with the Raven Boy.
Merlin watched her go and then shivered again, it was not just the cold water that drove him out to put on his clothes. He had liked Queen Alona, in fact he had liked her a lot but as she had stood before him under the trees of Manta Gore he had seen a black cloud hanging around her and he knew exactly what that meant.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AVALON
THE OUTER BOUNDARY
Archer had never seen a unicorn before, in fact as far as he could remember he had not ever seen a picture of one and that made what was happening to him even more startling. It had been a long trek from Dragon’s Keep over a very difficult terrain of small stones and rocks that were constantly sliding from under his feet and threatening to hurl him down the steep hillside and hidden precipices. Even so at no time had he felt like turning back from the task that he had set himself. In many ways the mercenary was a simple man, over pretty well all of his adult life he had been paid in gold by dictators and tyrants to kill their enemies and this is what he had done. Locate your target and kill him, that’s all that Archer had to do and it had not been hard. Archer’s father had also been a paid assassin and from as early as he could remember Archer had been trained in the use of all the killing weapons and he had proved to be very good at it. By the age of thirteen he had already outstripped his father and many believed him to be the finest bowman in the whole of Britannia.
Archer had never had any qualms about killing the men that he had been sent to hunt down for they had been as evil and corrupt as the men who had paid him. He had over the years amassed a considerable amount of gold but he had little use for it and it was hidden deep underground. Archer had no need for fine clothes and fine horses, he was a simple man doing what he did best which was killing people.
All these thoughts had been far from his mind as he descended down from the mountains to the borders of Avalon. He certainly hadn’t been thinking about unicorns.
The first he had known of it was when a large shadow passed over him and when he had looked up he had seen what he thought was a truly huge horse and it was flying. It had landed gracefully in front of the mercenary and it was only then that he had seen the long horn of twisted silver and gold that came from the animal’s forehead. It was, Archer had realised, a unicorn and it was enormous at least double the height of any horse that the mercenary had seen. It was not white, which was how Archer if he ever thought of unicorns at all, believed them to be. This unicorn was gold with a silver mane and tail, but what caught the mercenary’s attention was the unicorn’s blue eyes that seemed to see into his very soul.
Archer wondered if the unicorn could speak like many of the animals in Avalon seemed to be able to do.
“What brings you here, mercenary?” The unicorn said as if in answer to Archer’s thoughts.
“I am here to find the Raven Boy,” Archer told the golden unicorn, “I have come to fight by his side.”
“Against who?” Stormrider asked.
“Against the Dark Lord, the Dark Magic, in fact anyone he wants me to fight.”
“The Raven Boy does not hire assassins,” the unicorn told him contemptuously.
“I am here to fight as his friend and to die for him if necessary,” Archer replied.
Stormrider’s blue eyes seemed to once more bore deep into the bowman’s very being.
“You have much blood on your hands, mercenary. You have killed many men,” the King of the Unicorns told him, “And you have met with the Dark Lord, his Evil hangs around you like a cloak.”
“I was hired by the Dark Lord to kill the Raven Boy,” Archer said, “But the Raven Boy prevented me. He said that he would give me one last chance and warned that next time he would kill me.”
“And now you come to try to kill him again.” Stormrider stated with contempt.
“No, as I have told you, I come to fight for him. I have tried to find the Dark Lord’s Spell Name but he keeps it well hidden and I have failed. All that I have left to me is to fight and perhaps die alongside the Raven Boy.”
For a long time the unicorn just gazed at the mercenary and Archer wondered if it was going to drive its long horn into him and finish the matter there and then. Finally the unicorn lifted its head as if it had come to a decision.”
“I believe you,” the unicorn unexpectedly said.
Archer was stunned he had only anticipated a quick death from the huge unicorn.
“I am Stormrider,” the golden unicorn told the mercenary, “I am the King of the Unicorns and I also of the Old Magic. I too have come with my herd to fight for the Raven Boy and defend Avalon.”
“My name is Archer and I thank you for your trust.”
“Walk with me for a while, Archer,” Stormrider told him, “We are not far from Avalon and I have much to show you.”
The golden unicorn and the assassin made their way down to the lower slopes of the mountains and it was here that Stormrider halted. The golden unicorn looked around and Archer thought that he saw the beginnings of tears in Stormrider’s blue eyes.
T
he mercenary too looked but there was not much to see for it was a wasteland. There were the remains of what had obviously once been buildings but these were in a terrible state and had obviously been ruined for many decades if not hundreds of years. The ground was scorched as if some long lasting drought had taken place and then fire had ignited and scorched the earth. All around there were humps and bumps that made the place look as if some enormous mole had pushed up through the ground and then retreated.
“Tell me what you see,” the golden unicorn asked Archer.
The mercenary looked once more around himself, “I think there was a village or villages here once,” he told Stormrider, “Many years ago, probably hundreds of years ago. For some reason the villagers must have left and torched the buildings as they were leaving.”
“And why do you think that they would they do that?” The golden unicorn asked.
Archer shook his head, “I don’t know,” he said for he truly could have no conception as to why the villagers had left what had obviously been, many, many years ago such an idyllic spot.”
“Where do you think the villagers went?” Stormrider asked.
Once again the mercenary shook his head, “I have no idea,” he replied.
“The villagers are still here,” the unicorn told him, “Every single one of them is still here.”
Archer looked around at the desolate wasteland and wondered if the King of the Unicorns had lost his senses.
“As ghosts?” The mercenary queried.
“Not to my knowledge,” Stormrider answered, “Look more carefully.”
Archer did look again if only to humour the big unicorn, then an awful thought crossed his mind and he looked harder at the bumps that he had noticed when he had first come to the wasteland. There were literally hundreds of them and he realised with a chilling insight that they were each the size of a man although some were much smaller. He tried not to think about those. Troubled he looked up at the unicorn and realised that the blue eyes had been watching him very closely.
“Are these graves?” The bleak faced mercenary asked quietly.
“They are,” Stormrider told him.
“And the smaller ones?” Archer’s voice almost failed him.
“Were children,” the unicorn confirmed.
Archer had killed many men but they had always been that – men. The big mercenary had never killed a woman or a child and in all his life he had never seen so many dead that were laid out in such a random fashion.
“They were buried where they fell,” Stormrider told him, once again seeming to read Archer’s mind.
“What was it some ancient plague?”
“It was neither the plague nor are these ancient graves,” the unicorn told him.
There seemed nothing more to say so Archer waited for the golden unicorn to continue.
“These are the graves of the men, women and children who died at the hands of the Blood Riders,” Stormrider told the mercenary his voice almost spitting out the words ‘Blood Riders’. “These are the innocents killed at the hands of your one time employer, the Dark Lord. Look hard Archer,” the big unicorn commanded.
Archer didn’t need to look again he was only too conscious of the huge amount of unmarked graves.
“Their only fault was to live outside the protection of the altars of Mithras Invictus,” Stormrider continued, “The Blood Riders killed them all for the pure love of killing for these people were no threat to the Dark Lord and his Dark Magic. This is what the Dark Lord will bring not just to Avalon and Camelot but then to Britannia and the whole of the world unless the Dark Forces are stopped.”
Archer looked around again at the arid wasteland. There was something wrong here he knew. The Dark Lord had sent the dragon and the Blood Riders against Avalon only a few months before, yet these graves and ruins looked centuries old.
Once again the golden unicorn seemed to read the mercenary’s thoughts. “The Forces of the Dark corrupt everything that they touch,” he told Archer, “Even in death. These people died, as you now know, only recently and yet their graves and the shells of their houses look hundreds of years old. By the end of the year they will look a thousand years old and know this too, nothing will ever grow or flourish here for it has been blighted by the servants of the Dark Lord and will remain a desolate wasteland under the End of Time itself. This is what the Dark Forces bring with them and this is how it will end unless the Dark Lord is confronted and driven back to the Hell that he emerged from.”
Archer continued to look at the ruined buildings and the bumps that he now knew to be graves, some of them were indeed very small he noted.
“Walk with me again, Archer,” the golden unicorn’s voice broke into the mercenary’s thoughts. Almost automatically he followed Stormrider away from the desolated village for about half of a mile. The golden unicorn stopped at what Archer recognised as the boundary of Avalon. Here there stood a huge and impressive altar that looked as if it had been carved from the earth itself. It would have been impressive, Archer corrected himself, but now it was looking shabby and uncared for. There were reliefs around the whole of the altar but these were hard to see as harsh weather had worn away the carvings. Archer could just make out the image of a bull and what looked like a long wicked knife or sword. The mercenary looked closer at the remaining carvings and the channel that had once carried away the blood of sacrifices. Suddenly Archer stepped back as if the decaying altar had burnt him – he knew exactly to which of the Elder gods this had been dedicated.
“This is Mithras Invictus’ altar,” he told Stormrider.
“It is and it is only one of many that protected Avalon long before Uther Pendragon became King of Camelot,” the unicorn said. “There is little of the god’s power here anymore. That is why Avalon will fall to the Dark Lord and then….” Stormrider let the words hang in the air before he continued, “Then you have seen what the Dark Magic will bring to Avalon and Camelot.”
Archer’s mind went back to the ruined buildings and graves, many of them pitifully small, that he had seen just outside the protection of the Elder god’s altars. He had no doubt that the Dark Lord intended to reduce everything in Avalon, possibly everything in the world to this vision. The mercenary realised that the Dark Lord truly meant to build a Hell on Earth for this was what he had just seen.
Archer looked up at the dark clouds that were gathering over the Great Mountains that ringed Avalon. They could have been ordinary thunder clouds but the mercenary knew that they were not. Troubled he turned back to Stormrider but it was the golden unicorn who once again spoke first.
“I believe in you, assassin, and the Raven Boy will need all his friends now. The Dark Lord is coming again to Avalon and none can stop him but the Raven Boy.”
In the distance there was a faint chittering sound and both the mercenary and the unicorn knew that this was the sound of the Blood Riders and that those demons were, once again, hell-bent on bringing their all-consuming Dark-Fire to more of Camelot’s innocent citizens.
“Go to the Raven Boy,” Stormrider ordered the mercenary, “And tell him what you have seen and let him know that the unicorns will stand between Avalon and the Blood Riders.”
With that the golden unicorn leapt for the sky and Archer was amazed to see that it flew with great grace and speed even though it didn’t appear to have wings. The mercenary turned and, as tired as he was, he began to run in the direction of Avalon. All he could hope was that he would arrive in time and that he would not come upon the Raven Boy’s lifeless body. With that thought in his head Archer, one time assassin for the Dark Lord, ran as hard as he could to the aid of Camelot and Avalon and the Raven Boy.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
AVALON
MO DHACHAIDH
Galapas was tying on his cloak when the whirlwind that was Merlin burst into Mo Dhachaidh. The young enchanter had run flat out all the way from Manta Gore. Merlin never seemed to do anything at normal speed Galapas thought to himself everything
had to be done at ‘Merlin speed’ which was several notches above full speed.
As always the High Mage made no mention of the door slamming as Merlin crashed into the room. “Queen Alona was looking for you,” he told the hard breathing boy.
“She found me,” Merlin said bending over in an effort to get his breath back for it was a very long run from Manta Gore, “I was up in Manta Gore. Did you tell her that I was there?”
Galapas continued to adjust his cloak, “No, I didn’t know that’s where you were. I hope that you were polite to her.”
“Hmmmmm, sort of,” Merlin replied.
Satisfied with the hanging of the cloak Galapas turned around to look at the boy, “I suppose that means ‘no’ you weren’t,” the High Mage of Camelot said with his usual resignation. “Merlin, she is a queen and King Uther Pendragon’s queen at that.”
“So?” Merlin said pouring himself a beaker of milk.
“She took a great risk coming to see you on her own,” Galapas’ face was stern for he was truly fond of the young queen. “King Uther would be furious if he knew that she had left Camelot without an armed escort.”
Merlin gulped down the rest of his milk and reached for one of the apples that always seemed to be in such plentiful supply in Mo Dhachaidh.
“I didn’t ask her to,” the boy replied.
Galapas sighed, this was not Merlin at his best and the mage decided that sometimes the boy had far too much of his father in him.
“I know that you find this hard to believe,” Galapas told the boy sharply, “But she was deeply concerned for you.”
“She doesn’t need to be.”
Galapas’ face was stern, “I know that she doesn’t need to be. She could be like Uther and just use you, but she worries about you and I think the more of her for that.”
Merlin finished his apple and reached for another, “If I can’t defeat the Dark Lord then she’ll have a lot more to worry about,” the boy said.
“Merlin, will you stop eating that apple and just listen to me for once,” Galapas told the boy enchanter with more than a hint of exasperation in his voice. “Queen Alona only came to look for you because she worries about Camelot and believe it or not she worries that Uther asks too much from you.”
Merlin and the Land of Mists: Book Two: The Minotaur Page 8