Merlin and the Land of Mists: Book Two: The Minotaur

by P. J. Cormack

  “I defend Avalon, not King Uther Pendragon,” Merlin told the High Mage sharply. “I only put up with him for I know that one day he will be needed.”

  This puzzled the High Mage, “Needed for what?” He asked the boy.

  Merlin took another huge bite out of the apple and grinned at the mage. Galapas knew that expression only too well and he also knew that he wasn’t going to get any more out of the boy. Merlin had glimpses of the Future that even some of the Elder gods could never have seen and the boy enchanter was bound by the Lores of the Old Magic never to reveal what he saw.

  “Sir Lauriston du Lac is gathering the Knights of Camelot,” Galapas said believing that it was best to change the subject away from Merlin’s Sight of the Future.

  “They won’t be able to do anything,” Merlin said his mouth still full of apple, “The Knights are mortal and the Dark Lord and his army are of the Dark Magic. There is no defence for mortals against them.”

  “Remember,” Galapas told the boy, “Your own mother was mortal.”

  “I don’t recall her,” the young enchanter said but the High Mage knew that this was just another barrier that Merlin had built around himself as a protection to what hurt him deep down.

  “Princess Ailidh was gentle and kind which is why your father fell in love with her,” he told the boy.

  “And I’m Mithras Invictus’ son,” Merlin replied almost too fiercely, “His only son.”

  “I know you don’t want to admit it but you can be very much like your mother.” Galapas persevered.

  That got Merlin’s attention and he stopped munching his apple, “In what way?” He asked.

  “In caring for Avalon. If you did not then you’d let Camelot, Avalon and the rest of us burn in the Dark Lord’s flames. Your father certainly would.”

  The conversation was getting a little awkward for Merlin so he did what he always did in these situations with Galapas he pulled himself up onto the table and sat cross-legged looking at Camelot’s High Mage.

  “Perhaps,” he partially agreed.

  “You know that he would,” Galapas emphasised the ‘know’.

  “I don’t believe that my father would let Avalon perish,” Merlin said defensively.

  “I’m sorry, Merlin, but I do.” Galapas said more firmly than he had intended. They stared into one another’s face in a locking of wills and for once it was Merlin who looked away.

  “Perhaps you are right, I really don’t know anymore, my father seems to be forgetting Avalon.” Merlin admitted and, for a moment, Galapas could see the hurt that was inside the boy and immediately regretted the confrontation. He picked up an apple and threw it to the boy enchanter.

  “As the people of Avalon forget him,” the High Mage said.

  Merlin took the apple, he knew it for what it was a peace offering and one that he was only too willing to accept.

  “I suppose so,” Merlin said polishing the apple on his rather grubby tunic before taking a very large Merlin-sized bite out of it.

  “At least they have his son to protect them,” Galapas said still very much in the spirit of reconciliation.

  Merlin paused from chewing his apple, “I just hope that I can, Galapas,” he told the High Mage.

  “You did last time.”

  “That was different the Dark Lord underestimated me then.”

  “And you don’t think that he will do that again?” Galapas asked.

  “I know he won’t,” Merlin said firmly, he expertly shied the apple core into a waste bin that was already pretty full of apple cores. “The Dark Lord is gathering powerful forces to him. But they can’t enter Avalon while I live so he will send a creature of the Abyss to kill me – the Minotaur.”

  That stunned the High Mage, “The Minotaur! I didn’t realise that they truly existed.”

  “This one does,” Merlin grimly told the mage, “Its name is Ergotaur.”

  “Then I will face him with you,” the High Mage told the boy his face bleak as he reached for his sword belt.

  “Thank you, Galapas, but no” Merlin replied, “This battle is not for you and anyway my father told me that you cannot kill the Minotaur by magic.”

  “How then?”

  “By beheading it,” Merlin said quite bluntly.

  Galapas looked desperately at the boy, “This is madness,” he told him, “You won’t be able to behead a Minotaur, Merlin. You must ask your father to kill it, he is the Bull Slayer and it is half bull.”

  Merlin suddenly looked very young and very tired, “I have asked him to help me, Galapas, and he refused. If Avalon is to survive then somehow I’ve got to cut off the Minotaur’s head myself.”

  The blood seemed to have drained out of the High Mage’s face as he realised the almost impossible task ahead of his young charge. One that he quite frankly didn’t believe that the boy would be able to manage.

  “You could seek refuge in the Crystal Cave, the Minotaur wouldn’t be able to follow you in there.”

  Merlin could see the concern in Galapas’ eyes, it was as if the High Mage had aged ten years in as many minutes. Even so the boy shook his head.

  “I’m not a coward,” he said quietly.

  “Nor are you a fool,” Galapas replied sharply, “One day Merlin, you will be more that a match for the Dark Lord and all of his creatures from Hell but that day is not now.”

  “Maybe not,” Merlin agreed, “But I must try or the Dark Lord will bring his Dark-Fire and then hundreds if not thousands will die. Remember the innocent people that his Blood Riders slaughtered before. I don’t have any option but to confront the Minotaur,” he told the High Mage with a finality in his voice.

  “I will not allow it,” Galapas said equally sternly.

  Merlin shrugged his shoulders, “You cannot prevent it, Galapas. Those days are gone.”

  “Then I will go to the Crystal Cave and speak with Mithras Invictus,” the High Mage told him bluntly.

  “The Guardian Spirits will not allow you to even enter the Crystal Cave,” Merlin warned the mage.

  “Perhaps not, but like you, Merlin, I must try,” Galapas said grimly.

  “You’re wasting your…,” without allowing the young enchanter to finish, the High Mage of Camelot had not only left Mo Dhachaidh but had slammed the front door with such a force that even Merlin would have been proud of it, “...your time,” Merlin finished rather lamely.

  The young enchanter appreciated Galapas’ concern for him just as he had warmed to Queen Alona because of the kindness that she had shown to him. The trouble was that he knew that the Dark Lord and his Hell-raised Blood Riders could only be defeated by the Old Magic and that meant either him or Mithras Invictus in the unlikely event of his father changing his mind. If Galapas and Queen Alona or any mortal tried to stand alongside Merlin against the Dark Magic the boy knew that they were certain to die and that he could not and would not allow to happen.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE GATES TO THE UNDERWORLD

  It was like a scene from a demonic painting of Hell that had been made by some seriously unstable visionary and that wasn’t surprising for this was indeed Hell and the Dark Lord was stood at its Gates. In the distance he could see the flickering flames of the Underworld and the sound of demonic screams assaulted his ears. He knew this realm very well and he exalted in the eternal pain and torment that was the lot of the souls who had been condemned to spend all of Eternity there. Even so these he barely noticed for he had come here to complete what he considered to be his greatest task - the enslaving and total destruction of Camelot and Avalon. He knew that with the fall of these happy lands so would come the destruction of Britannia and then the whole of the living world. For this was his ultimate purpose to mutilate everything that was good and pure so that the Powers of the Dark would spread out and grow in the death and the corruption that they brought with them. As the Roman legions had spread and enslaved all of the known world the Powers of the Dark sought to go further beyond that which was know
n and not only to enslave but to totally corrupt and destroy.

  The Dark Lord had come to the Underworld to ready the Army of the Dead. These were the demons that had been deemed too corrupt to be allowed to sleep quietly in the House of the Dead but had been condemned to Eternal Damnation in the fires of the Underworld. They would, the Dark Lord was absolutely certain, rejoice in the killing and maiming that they brought with them for so had been their way in life. Not only would these demons bring death to Camelot and Avalon but also great terror and dread for the sight of these skeletal warriors was enough to terrify even the bravest of men. Only the Knights of Camelot would not flee in the face of this demonic onslaught and the Dark Lord knew that there were too few of these brave knights to stem his crimson blood-tide and crucially the knights carried no magic with them.

  The Dark Lord was a truly huge figure and the flames that ran in rivulets over the scales of his body burned brighter as if to welcome to the Fires of Hell that were just beyond the Underworld’s Gates. The Dark Lord lifted his arms to summon the demons to his call.

  “Rise up, my soldiers,” the Dark Lord’s powerful voice rang and echoed even above the sound of Hell’s flames and the never-ending torment that they brought with them. “Rise up my Army of the Dead,” he commanded, “Now is your destiny, Camelot and Avalon stand defenceless before you. Burn and destroy everything that breathes and lives there. I would see Avalon run with blood and fire. Forward my army, come forward and destroy.”

  The Gates to the Underworld remained shut as the Dark Lord had known that they would. But just beyond them there appeared a throng of skeletal and demonic figures. They were, as Mithras Invictus had said, without number for they stretched back to the very depths of Hell itself. There had been no respite for them from the flames and torment of the Underworld that they had been bound to endure for many thousands of years. Now they had been called forth by the Dark Lord and the Power of the Dark Magic and they revelled in the opportunity to wander the Earth once more and bring even more pain and desolation than they had in their own lifetimes.

  A figure came forward from the skeletal throng, in his time on the earth he had been a mighty warrior greatly gifted in good looks and intellect. Thousands had flocked to his banner for he had seemed invincible. He had swept all before him in a succession of battles and had originally sought to bring order and learning to those lands that he had so comprehensively overrun.

  But he had become corrupt and being so gifted he had the furthest to fall and this he did. His name had become synonymous with depravity, cruelty and brutality. He had lost his fair looks by way of the evil life that he had lived and whereas many had flocked to him an equal number now sought to flee before they too were so eternally corrupted. Before he died he had lost everything and now in the millions of souls that were constrained in the Underworld he had lost, as all the condemned souls had, his very name. He had no memory of who or what he had been only that he was now called Aurotus and that he must obey the Dark Lord’s commands.

  Aurotus stepped forward for he knew that he could not disobey the Dark Lord’s summons.

  “Great Lord,” the demon’s voice was thin and reedy for these were vocal chords that had not been used for a millennia and they, like the rest of his body were desiccated and inhuman.

  “Great Lord,” Aurotus repeated, “We cannot cross over, we are prevented. Hell’s Gates stand locked before us.”

  “This I know,” once again the Dark Lord’s voice rose above the tumult of the Underworld, “But soon you will be free, all of you my Army of the Dead. This is only a small matter and it is being resolved even as we speak.”

  The Dark Lord was only too aware of what it was that was preventing the Army of the Dead from flooding out of the Underworld into Avalon and that was the Raven Boy. For reasons that he could not fully comprehend the Raven Boy’s very being protected Avalon even as the Elder gods themselves had done so many years before. Why this was the Dark Lord had no knowledge but what he did know was that the Raven Boy would soon be no impediment to him for the simple reason that the boy would be dead. The Minotaur was now close to Avalon and it would not leave until the boy’s body was broken and lifeless. With the death of the Raven Boy the Gates of Hell would swing open to release the Army of the Dead and its demonic leader now known as Aurotus.

  The Dark Lord had no doubt that the Minotaur would succeed where the dragon had failed for it was a creature from the Abyss and no one or nothing but an Elder god could stop it and there were none of those in Avalon.

  Aurotus bowed his head obsequiously “Great Lord, to hear is to obey,” he said in his most fawning voice.

  “There is one in Avalon,” the Dark Lord thundered, his whole body shaking with anger, “Who holds back my Army of the Dead. One who would seek to prevent my destruction of Avalon. But be sure of this, the Minotaur will crush him and then you will be released – all of you.” As the Dark Lord’s voice rose in pitch so did the fire that ran around his body flare up. It was as if the flames were feeding off the demon’s anger.

  “Great Lord,” the one known as Aurotus’ voice took on a sneering and subservient tone, “He is a fool if he stands against you for you are all-powerful and invincible.”

  “Indeed I am,” the Dark Lord told him, “You speak true Aurotus, but fear not, the Minotaur will not fail me and then these Gates will open and you will bring death and desolation to all of Camelot and Avalon.”

  “We wait only for the moment that we can obey your command, Great Lord. We will see all Avalon run with blood and your enemies ground to dust beneath our feet,” the demon’s whole being hungered for the death and mutilation that it could bring to the Dark Lord’s enemies for so it had lived in its life and now it continued its bloodlust even when dead.

  “Prepare yourselves my soldiers,” the Dark Lord’s voice again boomed around the Hell that was the Underworld, “For this is your time. As none could stand against you in life so none will be able to resist you in your death. You will be such an army that the world has never seen before and never will again.”

  The Army of the Dead beat their swords against their shields raising up a cacophony of sound that rose up like the roar of thunder.

  “Great Lord, we only await your call,” Aurotus confirmed, “Let us, the Army of the Dead, rise up and be the Death-Bringers for your Cause.”

  “It will come,” the Dark Lord said, his voice rising shrill in triumph, “And with the death of this child, this upstart, will begin the total and absolute destruction of Avalon. King Uther Pendragon and his Knights of Camelot will not be able to withstand you, my soldiers. You will feast on their bones and eat their flesh. This I promise you for you will bring all the Fires of Hell to their Earth.”

  “Great Lord, who is this that dares to stand against you and the mighty Forces of the Dark?” Aurotus asked.

  It did not seem possible for the Dark Lord’s temper to rise further but it certainly did at the thought of the boy who stood between him and his conquest of Camelot and Avalon and, one day, the whole of the world.

  “It is the Raven Boy,” the Dark Lord’s voice roared out so that the fires of the Underworld reared up in answer and there was the sound of the tearing of rocks as in an earthquake or avalanche. “But for all his power he is mortal and can die. The Minotaur will crush the life out of him for none can stand against Ergotaur.”

  “Then he is already dead,” Aurotus agreed, “For no mortal can withstand the Minotaur and the earth will drink this Raven Boy’s blood.”

  This was exactly as the Dark Lord had wished it to be. He had never doubted that the Army of the Dead would share his own lust for blood but their desire to once more lay waste the lands that they had been born to excited and exalted him. He knew that he was their undisputed leader releasing the Blood-Tide into the World of Men.

  “When his blood does truly glisten on Avalon’s soil then your bonds will fall away,” the Dark Lord promised the demons, “And you, my Army of the Dead, will once
again be free to burn and destroy all that stand before you.”

  “Let there be such bloodshed,” Aurotus’ scream was almost as an echo of the Dark Lord’s, “That the rivers and skies of Avalon turn as red as the Fires of Hell.”

  Once again the Army of the Dead beat their skeletal arms and swords against their shields so that the cacophony of sound rolled out from the Underworld and echoed far across the skies to the World of the Living.

  “It will be so,” the Dark Lord roared, “For even now the Minotaur is approaching Avalon. Be patient my soldiers for in but a little while there will be enough death and blood to satisfy even you.”

  The Army of the Dead, almost as one, put back their heads and let out a battle roar the like of which neither the Underworld nor the Realm of Men had ever heard before. It rolled across the skies and fields of Avalon and seemed to take on a force of its own as it crashed into Britannia and beyond.

  It was the battle cry of the Dark Magic and it promised only death to anyone or anything that was foolish enough to stand in its way.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE HIILS ABOVE AVALON

  The big knight sat so motionless on his horse that they could have been a statue. He and his warhorse were high in the hills over Avalon and he was looking keenly into the distance and what he saw he did not like. Dark clouds were massing around the boundaries of Avalon and these clouds seemed to have a life all of their own. They were swirling inky black and lightning lanced down from them burning and destroying anything or anyone that it chanced to hit. The clouds were constantly pushing and rolling back ready to push again for it was as if some invisible barrier was preventing these ominous thunderclouds from gaining entrance to Avalon and Camelot. The sound of distant thunder rolled across the gentle meadows and hills and there was another sound behind the thunder. It was a sound like an earthquake but with a cacophony of unearthly demonic voices and what could possibly be the crashing of swords onto shields.