Pendragon and the Traitor's Menace

by C J Brown

  “Princess Olivie Camela Fergus, please, come my child, join me.” The king stretched out his hand. Olivie smiled as widely as she could, keeping up appearances for the crowd, and approached. When she reached his side, her father said, “It gives me great honor and pleasure to know that a Pendragon has such high esteem and affection for you.”

  Olivie smiled realizing that her father did indeed like Arthur and that he knew she was falling deeply in love with him. She was waiting for Arthur to make the necessary arrangements, but since her father was going to announce it, she thought that that would work too.

  Arthur felt a trickle in his heart. A relief that all this was about the unification ceremony. But he still could not understand why his father and half- brother were here. Could it be that they were there to be part of the unification process?

  “King Uther Pendragon,” King Fergus, called. “Come join us. Stand next to me. It gives me deep honor and joy to know that our families will be united. This is my daughter, Princess Olivie Camela Fergus, heir to the throne of Pittentrail and the Highlanders. Come take her hand as she is now to become your daughter as well when she unites with your son, Gallagher Pendragon.

  The crowd cheered at the top of their lungs and fireworks were released as Uther Pendragon held Olivie’s hand and kissed it, then signaled for Mehmet, who must have recently been christened Gallagher Pendragon, to come and join them.

  “The unification ceremony between Princess Olivie Camela Fergus and Prince Gallagher Pendragon will be held exactly one month hence under the spring sky. All here are invited to attend the ceremony,” King Fergus decreed. Then he added, “If anyone goes against these wishes, it will be deemed treachery since it involves the selection of the next King of the Highlanders.”

  Again, the crowd cheered their approval while Arthur looked on in total disbelief.

  “You need to leave now. They plan to arrest you and throw you in the tower for treason. Go now, or you will never leave this place. Go, I beg you,” Magi pleaded in a hushed tone. “Return to Demetia. I will come and find you.”

  Arthur could see no other way and slowly slipped into the crowd, to the stables, then out the gates in a fast gallop, his heart shattered to pieces, welling with hate while and longing for his love.

  13

  Enchanted Journey

  A little after midnight, a rider meandered into the strange lands of the south. Cloaked from head to toe, the man who watched him from behind the trees did nothing and allowed the rider to reach the end of the journey without interruption.

  “Welcome, Highlander,” a man glowing the dark whispered, as he appeared in front of the rider. “We are pleased to welcome you to Demetia. My name is Verovingian. How may I be of service?”

  The Highlander, unmistakable due to the size of his silhouette, pulled down his hood. “I come unarmed and in peace. I am not an emissary of King Fergus and leave my allegiance to him at the gates of Pittentrail. I come here today in search of a friend, Arthur. My name is Magi Ro Hul.”

  Verovingian, illuminating the dark forest with the glow of his devotions, bowed. “Welcome, brother Magi Ro Hul. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. I will take you to our friend, Arthur. He has told us so much about you, and I am certain he will be glad to see you. Come, now. We shall walk from here,” Verovingian finally concluded as he lifted his hand and gestured to the large commander to dismount and walk the rest of the way through the enchanted forest.

  After some time of walking through the depths of darkness, the two men arrived at a clearing, and Magi was asked to wait.

  “I shall return with Arthur. It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope to do so again,” the painted man said, bowed and took his leave.

  Magi stood in the absolute silence of the forest. Not a single being disturbed the air or displaced elements of the forest floor. But soon, he heard footsteps moving swiftly from in front of him. Magi trained his senses on the approaching noise, and soon he saw a light in the distance. The light grew closer, and within moments that light fell on his old friend.

  “Arthur, it is good to see you.”

  “Magi, my old friend. Come, let me lead you to my tent. You must be hungry.”

  “Yes, I have not eaten since the last time I stopped at sundown. It is a long journey, one I have never made until this day.”

  “I am glad you are here, “Arthur said, rushing through the woods and headed toward the camp. They arrived soon after, at a deserted location.

  “Everyone is asleep. But there is always food here in the enchanted forest, so come and break bread with me,” Arthur invited him. They sat by the fire that would shield them from the late winter’s cold.

  “What news, Magi? I have not been able to find out anything since leaving a black moon past.”

  “The unification ceremony is still planned for the next full moon. But a lot has happened, my friend, and what I tell you will be hard to hear, but you must be strong.”

  Arthur had already braced himself for what he was going to hear. Word had already spread across Britannia that Uther Pendragon and Gallagher had set a bounty for Arthur’s head. But Merlin had managed to shield Arthur with a spell that obscured him from whoever looked for him.

  “Princess Olivie has been imprisoned in the tower,” Magi began. “She declined to be united with Gallagher, Mehmet, or whatever that snake’s name is, and she did so publicly. Since King Fergus had decreed that anyone objecting to the union would be imprisoned in the tower, he has placed her there until it is time for the ceremony.”

  The news twisted Arthur’s stomach and weighed heavily on his heart. He couldn’t help but feel the pain that she felt.

  “What do you suggest?” he asked, forcing himself to be calm while controlling the anger that was welling up inside him. Uther was behind all this, and behind him, was Mehmet.

  “You have no choice but to either kill Mehmet or declare war on … I can’t even say it. It would be treason. But whatever you have to do, you have to do it in a fortnight.”

  A sound in the trees silenced the large Highlander as he turned to see illumination behind the treeline. A figure appeared soon after and walked directly to them.

  “Magi, meet my cousin, Merlin Megolin. Merlin, this is my good friend, Magi Ro Hul.”

  “You Highlanders certainly have strange names. Even stranger then your hair,” Merlin began, speaking with a smile that perched on the corner of his mouth.

  “Well, you Demetians, have… have… have… strange forests,” Magi said, stammering. and trying to search his mind for a comeback.

  “That’s the best you can do?” Merlin asked, snickering at his cousin. “And you want to unite with one of them,” he said looking at Arthur.

  “He is just making fun of you, Magi. Do not take him seriously. Well… until it is time to take him seriously. I have spent the last two weeks with him, and his wit is beyond anything I am able to counter. You’re just going to have to live with it.”

  Magi decided to take it, but he didn’t have to like it. He turned his gaze back to Arthur. “So, Paleface knows what’s going on? We can talk in front of him?” he said, pointing to Merlin.

  “Yes, Merlin knows all of it. You can speak freely,” Arthur replied, thinking that his large friend’s comeback was not as bad as he might have thought.

  “We have to leave tonight,” Merlin said, “before Aunt Igraine wakes up. She will not allow us on this quest, and neither will my father. We need to leave right away.”

  “How does Paleface know what’s going on, if he wasn’t here when I told you?” Magi asked, looking perplexed.

  “Paleface heard you as I was coming through the woods. You whisper louder than a bear snores. I am surprised the fisherman by Land’s End haven’t heard you. Telling him a secret is like asking the town crier to make an announcement,” Merlin came back.

  “All right, I think its bes
t we leave tonight,” Arthur agreed.

  “Verovingian has already been instructed to prepare the horses,” Merlin announced.

  “And food. We need food,” Magi added.

  “No, we don’t need food. It will only slow the horses. And the ‘we’ does not include you. You stay here and eat all you can. Get your energy up while we ride up to Pittentrail,” Merlin said.

  “I am not coming with you?”

  “No,” Arthur seconded. “If anything happens to us, you should not be a part of the repercussions that befall us. Besides, if we are unsuccessful, Olivie will need someone she can trust by her side while she is united with the snake.”

  By the time Magi could finish the loaf of bread and stewed rabbit, Arthur and Merlin were well on their way north.

  14

  The Rescue

  Standing atop the ridge with the Pittentrail Castle in sight, Arthur turned to Merlin to seek his input. “What are your thoughts?”

  “I can shield you, but not from afar. The cloak is only a cloak if I can’t hold my spell on it. If you are too far away, they will see you,” Merlin explained.

  “What about from the top of that cliff? Is that close enough?” Arthur said, pointing to the cliff that connected to the town wall.

  “Yes, that should do.”

  The two men split up and began their journey. Neither was seen by the lookouts in the tower above Pittentrail. Reaching the gates, Arthur made his way to the inner circle and looked up to ascertain Merlin’s progress. He was already at the edge of the cliff, in full view. It was now Arthur’s turn to get to the task at hand.

  Under the cloak of invisibility that Merlin cast upon him from way up high, Arthur made his way up the prison tower until he found the cell where Olivie lay asleep. She looked tired and ragged. She wore the same clothes she had on the day Arthur left.

  The key to the cell hung at the vacant guard’s station. Retrieving it, he looked around one last time for any sign of guards. There were none. He removed his cloak and picked up the key, walked over to the cell and opened the door. He approached her, and placed his hand on her, and gently roused her from her sleep.

  “Arthur?” She mumbled. Fatigue and despair had gotten the best of her, as she was unsure of herself.

  “It’s me, my love. I have come for you. Are you strong enough to walk?” he asked.

  “I think so, but how will we make it out of here? The guards?”

  “Let me take care of that. Come,” Arthur said, wrapping her with the cloak that Merlin controlled from on top of the cliff.

  At first, she stumbled, but the realization of what was happening soon invigorated her, and she began to regain her clarity.

  “We have to move this way, she pointed. It is the rear access to the tower. It will lead to the stables.”

  Arthur nodded. Together, they swiftly moved past sleepy guards and lazy prisoners until they finally made it to the stables below.

  “Where is your horse?” she asked.

  “Don’t worry about Boadicea. She will find her way home by herself. Let’s take any horse from the stable and be gone. We have to ride on the same horse, or else they will see us.”

  “Fine, take this one,” Olivie said and grabbed a large cart horse that was already saddled. “This will handle both our weights for a short while.”

  In the distance shouts rang out. A commotion had broken out somewhere high in the prison tower. Olivie listened. “They know I am missing,” she announced. “We need to leave now.”

  Arthur hoisted her onto the horse and jumped up behind her, draping Merlin’s coat over them both. It made it look like the horse was moving on its own. It was all they needed.

  “Hurry,” she shouted. “Once they know a prisoner has escaped, the gates will be closed. We have little time.”

  Arthur fully appreciated the ramifications of that and kicked the horse and pulled its reins, placing the horse into a gallop while turning it expertly. Within a minute, bystanders who had heard the commotion in the tower saw a riderless horse bolting for the front gate.

  All was well until the cloak snagged on one of the poles by the corner and came off the two riders. Their escape was now revealed to the world, and shouts followed them. Most of the local folk were glad to see Arthur rescuing the princess, as they all felt it was a nasty piece of business that the king had engaged in. Cheers rang out so loud that Merlin could hear the noise and directed his attention to the galloping Clydesdale with two riders.

  Archers were summoned to the top of the thoroughfare to take aim at the rider.

  “Aim for the rider. Kill him if you must, but stop that horse,” shouted the captain of the archers.

  Maneuvering in a zig-zag pattern, Arthur had three more turns to go before the last section of the open gate closed. Once he passed that, they would be free. As he came around the second turn, he felt the tip of an arrow find his flesh. He was still able to control his arm, but the pain was excruciating.

  The pain was made worse by Olivie’s weight resting on the arm that connected to his shattered shoulder. Blood poured from the wound, front and back, as and he watched his tunic turn deep red. Olivie, facing forward, neither turned nor spoke as the two galloped past the last turn and faced the gates that were slowly racing them to a close.

  Merlin watched in horror as the horse squeezed past the gates and sprinted further away from Pittentrail. Merlin gave out a shout as he mounted his horse and moved to join his cousin. The two raced to the rendezvous point. Arthur was the first to get there since he had the shorter journey to make. Merlin, full of glee from the most excitement he had had in his life kept a look out for the trail behind. No one was following them.

  Merlin arrived to see Arthur in pain with an arrow stuck behind him on a downward trajectory. It was obvious he had been hit. But he could see movement, and since Arthur managed to stay upright on his horse, Merlin knew that Arthur was alright.

  He rode up alongside him to see him embracing Olivie tightly, but there was no movement from Olivie. Her hands were draped over the saddle, pale and limp. Merlin, perplexed, trotted ahead, and turned around to find the arrow that had penetrated Arthur’s shoulder had gone through him and into Olivie, penetrating her heart. The two sat there united by blood. One alive, one dead.

  ALSO by C.J. BROWN

  Pendragon and Merlin's Tomb

  Pendragon and the Mists of Brittania

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  About the Author

  C.J. Brown has a lifelong passion for fantasy books, and she quit her career in marketing to pursue her dream of becoming an author. Legends and myths in particular strike her fancy, and she loves putting her own spin on them. An adventurer at heart, when not writing, she can be found exploring the old mystical Northwoods around her home, where she finds much of her inspiration.

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