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

by P. J. Cormack

“This is your time to die, half grown,” the Minotaur could not resist a final taunt at the boy enchanter, “With your death so dies, Avalon.”

  Merlin stared full into the Minotaur’s bull-like face, the boy was determined not to show any fear and to die with his eyes wide open. He would not give the Forces of the Dark the satisfaction of believing him a coward.

  The Minotaur tightened its grip on the club, flexed its huge biceps and raised itself to its full height to deliver the killing blow.

  It was then that Time seemed to stop for everything except Merlin. There was no movement nor sound from anything or anywhere and Merlin gazed up at the huge Creature that stood frozen as if it was some kind of statue in the Circle of the Great Stones of Avalon. Suddenly the frozen sky was broken by an enormous crash of thunder and lightning arced down in a never-ending streak through the clouds, hitting the ground and spiralling away in all directions. The boy could see that the whole of the Great Stones were running with a bright blue fire that sizzled and burnt as if it was alive. Somewhere in the distance there was the sound of a great anger that made Merlin’s blood run cold, far colder than it had when he thought that he was about to die. It was as if all the power that had ever been in the Great Stones of Avalon had awoken and was once more venting itself into the world of men. Merlin thought that he could see the brief outline of Spirits as they too wove their way around the Great Stones and sky over Avalon. Still the Minotaur and Merlin guessed every living thing was stilled in this moment of Frozen Time.

  Shakily Merlin eased his tired body up so that he rested on his bruised elbows but he still did not understand what was happening around him. Then there was a blaze of blinding light that domed over the Great Stones and the Power of the Old Magic ran freely and unhindered over everything that stood in its path. There was the sound of a great rushing wind but this was such a wind that was god-driven and could never have come from the World of Men. It was the Power of the Elder gods that ran in this place of Avalon, this place of the Great Stones and of the Old Magic.

  Suddenly through the cacophony of the Wind and the Magic Merlin could see a bright light approaching at an almost unimaginable speed and it was so bright that he had to shield his eyes from it. The Column of Light hurtled down at him and Merlin forced himself to his feet for he feared that the lightning would drive into him. The light suddenly stopped so that it was completely still even though it ran with golden sparks and fire. Gradually it turned in on itself so and what had been a beam of pure light now took on a solid form even as Merlin gazed up at it.

  In a sudden burst of knowledge Merlin knew exactly what it was that the swirling clouds held above his head – it was a sword, but this was no ordinary sword, this was the Killing Sword of the Greatest of the Elder gods. This was the Killing Sword of Mithras the Unconquered, Mithras the Bull Slayer, Mithras his father.

  A voice spoke among the Great Stones and it was a voice that no mortal would ever be permitted to hear for this was the voice of the Elder god Mithras Invictus himself.

  “This is my sword, use it well my son.”

  Then Merlin himself blazed with light and the boy enchanter seemed to be growing in stature very much as if he was becoming his great father. Effortlessly Merlin, now running with power, climbed to his feet and lifted his arms above his head and gradually the sword lowered itself to the boy’s grasp. As his hands closed around the sword’s hilt the whole of the boy’s body absorbed the light and the power of the god so that both he and the sword blazed with the full power of the Old Magic. All Merlin’s tiredness left him and he felt stronger and more powerful than he had ever done in his life. As Merlin lowered his arms with the still glowing Killing Sword of Mithras in his grasp Time was released once more by the greatest of the Elder gods and Merlin stood upright facing a very confused Minotaur.

  With a shake of its huge bull-like head the Minotaur gathered its strength and then with its eyes blazing with hate it charged one final time at the boy enchanter. But this was not the eleven year old boy that had earlier stood before Ergotaur this was Merlinus Invictus who now stood holding the killing sword of Mithras the Unconquered and who glowed bright with the Power of the Old Magic that ran through the boy as if he was the god himself. The Minotaur put down its head and with a loud bellow charged at the boy. At first the boy enchanter did not move and it seemed impossible that he would not be caught by the Minotaur’s onslaught, but Merlinus Invictus knew exactly what he was doing. As the Creature from the Abyss lowered his head to rake the boy with its huge horns Merlin stepped aside and with all the strength of the Elder god who was his father and who was the Bull Slayer he leapt up and onto the Minotaur’s back. With one easy controlled movement the boy enchanter pulled up the Minotaur’s huge head and drove Mithras’ sword hard across its throat and then twisted the blade to open the wound. Black blood fountained from the wound and the Minotaur staggered as its strength ebbed away from it. For what seemed an age the Dark Lord’s Creature from the Abyss hung there as if it could not believe that it had been defeated. Then the Minotaur started to fall and it was almost as if everything was happening in slow motion. Merlinus Invictus jumped effortlessly away from the monster as its huge body crumpled sideways.

  So large was the Creature of the Dark that as it fell it struck one of the Great Stones. The Stone twisted under the monster’s weight and the top stone fell crashing heavily to the ground. Dust and stones showered down and mixed with the Minotaur’s black blood as the Stone came to a sliding halt. As the huge body also thudded to the ground the boy enchanter remembered what his father had told him in the Crystal Cave what seemed an age ago. It was as if the god once more spoke the words in his son’s head.

  “The only way to kill a Minotaur is to behead it.”

  Without a second thought the boy, still blazing with the god’s light, strode up to the fallen Minotaur and with one huge overhand blow that Mithras the Unconquered himself would have been proud of he cut off the monster’s head. In the far distance there was an unearthly howl that sounded as if it came from the Depths of Hell and the boy knew that both the Dark Lord and the Dark Magic were well aware of what had happened to the monstrous Creature they had called forth from the Abyss.

  For a moment Mithras’ son stood there as if Time had once again been stopped which it had not. It was as if the boy was listening to some inner voice that only he could hear. Then he straightened up and, holding the Sword of Mithras before him, he strode purposely to the massive Stone that had toppled to the ground as the Minotaur had crashed into it. The boy paused in front of the Great Stone and suddenly all the light that was glowing from him flared up so strongly that it would have been impossible for anyone other than a god to have withstood the brightness that radiated from the boy. In one huge and powerful move Merlin lifted up the Sword for a final time and drove it hard down into the Great Stone that lay before him. Once again there was that crash of thunder and the Stone ran with the flames of the Old Magic as the boy drove the Killing Sword of Mithras deep into the granite rock.

  And then all the light was gone and the Sword lay buried deep in the Great Stone as if it had always been there. As the Old Magic of the Elder god flowed away from him the boy was suddenly desperately tired and he felt about a hundred years old. The glowing godlike figure that had been Merlinus Invictus was gone and all that was left was an exhausted eleven year old boy and an eleven year old boy who knew that there was still much for him to do for this had not been a bloodless victory. As he had predicted that it would Death had walked in the Circle of the Great Stones of Avalon that day.

  Merlin looked across the blood-stained grass that had so recently been a battleground between the Forces of Darkness and the Old Magic. To his relief he saw that Kraak was climbing groggily to his feet. The boy ran over to the King of the Raven Kind realising, as he moved, that every step that he took was an agony. His whole body felt as if it had been battered and bruised from head to foot and there was blood running down his side where one of the flint
y rocks of the Great Stones had cut into him. Merlin bent over the raven as it got to its feet and stretched out its wings, the feathers were bent and some torn but thankfully there were no broken bones.

  “Kraak, are you alright?” There was a hint of desperation in the boy’s voice.

  The huge raven looked around the Great Stones of Avalon taking in the Minotaur’s prone body and the Sword of Mithras that was now stuck firmly into the fallen Stone.

  “It was well done, Raven Boy,” Kraak told him.

  “Yes,” Merlin replied “I think it was.”

  A slight movement behind the boy enchanter made him spin around but he relaxed as he saw or rather smelt who it was.

  “You can come out now, Grim,” he shouted across the battlefield.

  Grim’s head, followed eventually, by the rest of his body, appeared from behind the Great Stone where he had tried to hide himself.

  “Grim is very sorry,” he told the boy, “But Grim was so scared.”

  Merlin gave the ghoul one of his rare smiles, “It doesn’t matter, Grim. It really doesn’t,” he told the ghoul.

  The smile on Merlin’s lips froze as he saw past Grim to Archer’s bloodied and battered body. He could see the mercenary’s back was bent at an impossible angle.

  “Archer – no,” Merlin’s cry rebounded around the Great Stones for it had a note of anguish that came from the depths of the boy’s very soul.

  Ignoring his own hurts Merlin ran over to where Archer lay.

  “You told me there was death here, Raven Boy, and you were correct,” the mercenary said forcing the words through his bloodied lips.

  Merlin knelt down beside the man who had once been his enemy but who had become his friend and ally.

  “I’m so sorry,” Merlin told the one-time assassin, the boy’s voice was hardly more than a whisper.

  Archer coughed some blood out of his mouth and looked up at the boy enchanter. In spite of his terrible injuries the mercenary’s face was almost serene.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Raven Boy,” he told Merlin, “I have killed many men, this is a far better death than I expected.”

  “You have helped to save Avalon,” the boy enchanter told him quite simply.

  “I fought for you, Raven Boy, not for Avalon,” Archer said almost fiercely.

  “The result was the same,” Merlin replied in a quiet voice for it was obvious to the boy that the mercenary had very little time left to live.

  “Perhaps,” now it was Archer’s turn to force a smile. With one bloodied hand the mercenary reached into a pouch that was attached to his belt and pulled out the talisman that the dragon had given to him at Dragon’s Keep. He held it up for Merlin to see, “Take this,” he told the boy.

  “A talisman,” the boy said taking it into his own muddied and bloodied hand, “Who gave you this?”

  “The dragon,” Archer told him, “Draago said that it would summon him if your life was in danger. I didn’t have the time to use it.”

  “You did well, Archer,” Merlin’s voice was low and had the ring of utter sincerity in it, “No man could have done better.”

  Archer smiled and then the light seemed to dim in his eyes, “It grows dark,” he told the boy, “Will you stay with me until the end, Raven Boy?”

  Merlin nodded, “I will.”

  Archer coughed and Merlin could see that the mercenary was now spitting out large mouthfuls of blood.

  “Thank you, Raven Boy and burn my body, send me to my ancestors in the flames, I have always wanted that. Will you also do that for me?”

  The boy nodded, “You will go as a hero, Archer, for that is what you are, a Hero of Avalon. Men will sing and tell tales by the fire of what you did here for a thousand years,” he promised his friend.

  Archer tried to smile but it was too much of an effort for him, “A Hero of Avalon, I like that,” he said and then the mercenary’s whole body seemed to shiver, “It grows cold and dark, Raven Boy.”

  “I am here,” Merlin told him moving closer to the dying man.

  With one last huge effort Archer raised his bloodied head to look at Merlin, “I am not afraid, Raven Boy.”

  And with that the mercenary known as Archer died and Merlin gently closed the man’s eyes.

  “Fare thee well, my friend,” he said so quietly that the words barely seemed to escape his lips.

  Merlin kneeled by Archer’s body as Kraak and Grim came over and also bent their heads to their lost comrade.

  So deep was their grief that they barely heard the screams of anger from the Blood Riders as those demons tried desperately to force their way into Avalon. Then the screams were cut off in mid-flight as Stormrider and his herd of warrior unicorns dropped from the sky and fell upon the Blood Riders of the Dark Lord. With a ferocity that seemed almost out of place for such beautiful animals the unicorns savaged and drove the Blood Riders hard and far from the land of Avalon.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CAMELOT CASTLE

  THE GREAT THRONE ROOM

  It should have been a time for celebration in the Great Throne Room of Camelot Castle. Camelot’s Knight Commander, Sir Lauriston du Lac, was there as was the High Mage of Camelot, Galapas, and Queen Alona. They were all in high spirits but the king was decidedly not happy. King Uther Pendragon’s mood was sombre and even bad tempered and he seemed incapable of realising just how close Camelot and Avalon had come to falling into the hands of the Forces of the Dark. The king also seemed completely incapable of understanding that it was Merlin and Merlin alone who had withstood the Power of the Dark and held the Dark Lord at bay and at a great cost to the boy.

  Instead of rejoicing the king was brooding as if some great slight had been made to him by not allowing him and no one else to be the saviour of Avalon. It was short sighted to say the least, for great warrior that he was, and there was none braver, this had been a battle of great enchantment and only a being of the Old Magic could have fought and held back the Dark Lord’s Dark Magic and his Creature from the Abyss.

  Instead of congratulations the king seemed to prefer to concentrate on what he considered to be an affront to his kingship and his dignity.

  “So once again, the Raven Boy has not answered my summons to come to Court,” King Uther Pendragon said in what could only be described as a petulant voice more suited to a spoilt child than to Camelot’s crowned warrior king.

  Queen Alona put her hand on her husband’s arm in an effort to placate him, “Peace, Uther,” she said in that gentle, melodic voice of hers, “Merlin is not ours to command.”

  The king sharply pulled his arm away from his queen’s touch, “Is he not?” He asked belligerently, “You forget Alona that I am his king.”

  “No, I don’t forget, Uther,” Queen Alona replied again quietly, “But I believe that Merlin only answers to himself or to his father.”

  “You cannot doubt Merlin’s love for Camelot and Avalon,” Galapas tried to be a reasoning voice. He was well aware of King Uther Pendragon’s temper and mood swings. As ever the High Mage sought to calm the sea of his king’s displeasure.

  “I don’t doubt that,” the king bleakly told Camelot’s High Mage, “But what I do doubt his loyalty to me. Where is he, Galapas?” The king’s voice had risen almost to a shout but the High Mage did not flinch. He had faced far more dangerous men than Uther Pendragon and men who had carried even more power than Camelot’s king.

  “Merlin is saying goodbye to a friend,” Galapas quite simply told his king.

  “Those ravens again,” King Uther Pendragon said contemptuously again being seemingly totally unaware of the times that Kraak, the King of the Raven Kind, had risked his life for Avalon or the times that the Raven Kind had helped to hold back the Forces of the Dark from Camelot.

  It was Sir Lauriston who spoke next also in an attempt to bring the discussion back to a more reasoned mood, “Why did the Dark Lord not invade Avalon, Galapas?” He asked the High Mage, “It would seem that his forces stood at
our very borders once more.”

  “It was the Old Magic that protected us once again, my lord,” Galapas told Camelot’s Knight Commander, “The Army of the Dead cannot cross from the Underworld into Avalon while the Old Magic still thrives here.”

  “So Mithras still protects us then,” the king managed to make it sound more like an insult than a statement.

  Galapas shook his head, “Mithras Invictus spends very little time in Avalon these days or even in this world, sire,” he told the king, “He has grown tired of us.”

  For a moment Sir Lauriston looked horrified at the mention of the absence of the greatest of the Elder gods.

  “If Mithras Invictus is not at the Crystal Cave then Avalon does not have his protection,” the Knight Commander said grimly.

  “That is correct, my lord,” Galapas replied equally grimly.

  “Merlin is of the Old Magic,” Queen Alona said.

  “Indeed he is, my lady,” Galapas confirmed.

  “So the Dark Lord’s Army of the Dead cannot enter Avalon while Merlin lives,” Camelot’s queen continued in an effort to make her husband see just what a debt both Camelot and Avalon owed to the eleven year old boy enchanter.

  “Then surely the Dark Lord will continue to seek to kill the Raven Boy,” Sir Lauriston said more to himself than to the others and there was the note of genuine horror in his voice.

  “He has already tried to kill him, not once but twice,” Galapas reminded them, “First with a dragon and now most recently with the abomination that was the Minotaur.”

  “But Merlin still lives,” King Uther Pendragon pointed out and in such a manner that somehow he seemed to be almost belittling the attempts that had been made on the boy enchanter’s life.

  “Merlin beheaded the Minotaur,” Galapas told the king bluntly, “And other than Mithras Invictus no one,” and here the High Mage paused for effect, “No one else in Avalon, Camelot or Britannia and possibly the whole globe could have done that. Only the Bull Slayer or his son have the power or the enchantment to cut off the head of a Creature from the Abyss such as the Minotaur.”