by Candace Sams
“Her Majesty knows all of this?” Gart softly asked.
Merlin clasped his hands together. “You’re beginning to understand the full consequences of this information, Bloodnight. There are times when extreme measures must be taken to save innocent lives. Immortals and their clavigers are scrutinized until they can no longer do their jobs efficiently. The law has taken away their freedom and their rights. The law has almost taken away their ability to do their jobs as they’ve sworn to.”
“Just to get this straight…Jean will stay with me. She won’t be taken away?”
“In all of Europe, you’re considered one of the best swordsmen. It makes sense that she would know how to use a weapon to defend herself. She may not always be able to cast a memory befuddlement spell to hide her identity…or a masking spell. At least not right away, and certainly not if she’s in a somewhat crowded area. The magic we use is, unfortunately, rather conspicuous. In every instance where she might be sensed as a regular agency immortal, she must act as one until magic can be applied to render any source of danger negligible. As to her training at an Ethereal level, that will fall to me. In these hills, in the evening or night hours. Here, we are safest from prying eyes.”
“Just how long could it take for Jean to be like you?”
“Many years. In future, if ever the royal family is threatened, Jean will be trained go to their side in exchange for their having kept and protected her secret. Ethereals elsewhere hold very strong allegiances to very honorable sources. Again, none of us has ever gone rogue. Not ever. I reiterated this to quell any remaining fears you might have.”
Jean gazed into the distance. “I’m Her Majesty’s protector? I’ll protect the royals,” she murmured in awe.
Merlin laughed. “Not right away, my dear.”
“Merlin…since you’re the resident expert…I have a hypothetical question,” Gart sarcastically began. “Could you tell me if Ethereals would be sent to take care of one of their own. In the event one of you ever does go bad?”
“In that highly unlikely situation, the responsibility would fall to me. Not you or Jean. Ethereals, world-wide, report to me. Even their respective governments have agreed on this as I am most ancient among our ranks. This does not mean my powers are greater. It simply means that I am, by reputation and deed, respected. I have never gone back on my word and I never shall. If I say a thing will be done. It will be. I have used magic to help fight two World Wars. I believe I have more than proven myself trustworthy. Especially among the greater powers on this planet.”
“Good for you. But all I really care about for the present is that Jean stays here,” Gart insisted. “You have my word of honor concerning secrecy. Especially since we’re talking about compromising Her Majesty.”
“Excellent!” Merlin happily announced. “Since Ethereals are quite rare, those of us in existence may reveal themselves to you in their own good time…as circumstances permit. I will restate, ad nauseum, that none of us has ever been evil. I don’t believe it’s possible if the origins of our powers came from Mother Nature.”
“No. Jean could never be that,” Gart affirmed as he stared at her.
Jean glanced at both men. “So…we have an agreement, then?”
“Indeed. Stay with Garrett. Seek me out in the evening hours. Right here,” Merlin said as he pointed to the ground.
Garrett ran one hand over the back of his neck. “I have questions…Merlin. A lot of them.”
“I surmised you might. One does not meet an entity such as myself and not ask questions,” Merlin confirmed with a smile. Then, he turned toward the woods once more and whistled. A large form lumbered from the shadows.
Gart shook his head in wonder. His senses had never before missed the presence of a domestic animal. Horses, such as the Gypsy Vanner walking toward Merlin now, were a sign of human presence. Somehow, Merlin had masked the mare’s existence. But then, the wizard had just admitted that such power was possible. So, what other magical conjuring might exist?
Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face. He glanced at the older man and saw a smirk on the be-whiskered fellow’s countenance; as though Merlin was two steps ahead of him.
“Yes, I hid the mare from your senses, Gart. I don’t want Big Meg harmed by anyone. Not that you would. It’s just second nature that I protect her. She’s been with me a long while.”
Jean lifted one hand to push back his hair as the breeze blew it over his eyes. It was the first time she’d ever touched him like that, but he hoped it wouldn’t be the last. He quickly put one arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
“If you want to ask more questions this evening, I suggest you go down the hill and let your claviger know you’ll be out for a while,” Merlin advised. “The rest of our discussion could take all night. I’d prefer our conversation takes place here. I think you’d prefer being in an open, defendable area. Especially since I still sense confusion on your part.”
Gart gazed into the distance. “Confusion hardly covers it.”
“Know this…I will never harm either of you, nor will I allow harm to come to you if I am able. My powers are not omnipotent, but I’ll do my level best,” Merlin promised.
Gart gazed into the other man’s eyes for a moment. He felt Merlin, or Jon Merdwyn, was telling the truth. Then again, he wondered how he’d know if magical conjuring was responsible for that trust. Merlin could be playing games with his head, he could never really be certain. Only time would tell.
“I’ll inform Mrs. Gast that Jean and I are out training, which is actually the truth. Being in the hills may confuse her, but she won’t make an issue of it. I happen to have a claviger who will never ask questions if she feels that doing so isn’t her place. That notwithstanding, I will never speak to anyone about Jean’s magical qualities. Or about yours, Merlin. It’s not like anyone would believe me, anyhow.”
“Sir, I say this again and with great honesty. I trust you. As does Her Majesty.” With that, Merlin rubbed his hands together, walked toward his horse, and unhooked a large basket from the mare’s saddle. “Wine, cheese, bread,” he explained as he smilingly held up the basket. “This kind of meeting is what I’d hoped for, so I came prepared,” he happily blathered. “Eating a meal during discussions was required in antiquity. Indeed, the very best laid plans were concocted in the open, dining in pure clean air where everyone could see everyone else.”
Gart turned to Jean. “I’ll be back in less than twenty minutes,” he told her. “If you’re uncomfortable with me leaving you alone—”
“I’m not. Don’t worry about me, Gart. He’s had a chance to hurt me. Twice.”
“Can’t help worrying. That’s the way I roll.”
Gart strode away, but left his sword leaning against a stone nearest Jean. She must never be without a weapon, no matter who she trusted.
His weapon, indeed his heart, was hers to command. He knew that now, even if everything else in life was completely muddled.
As he walked away, he sensed no angst or fear in her. He’d never have left if that was the case.
Jean was exceedingly intelligent. She was strong. Merlin had said she’d be stronger than him someday. For now, she was still his to train. His to protect. His period. Old fashioned? Yes. But that’s how he felt.
Like craters in the moon, millions of questions riddled his brain. He’d ask them all and hope Merlin answered honestly. Perversely, he was almost afraid of the answers.
If Merlin existed in the historical sense, then it followed that Camelot was no fairytale. What other legends might be revealed within the boundaries of this strange, new alliance?
One other thing crossed his mind as he made his way down the slope. Legend portrayed Merlin as someone who could see into the future. Some of the man’s diatribe implied that such power existed. What did the fellow know, what was he willing to tell, and would anyone with such powers ever be at liberty to discuss such knowledge?
Yes, there were plenty of
questions to ask. Where was a common immortal like him supposed to start?
Chapter 8
When Jean could no longer see Gart’s large form, she turned to Merlin.
“You want to ask your questions now? Before he returns?” Merlin urged.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t have me taken from the hospital when someone first noted my glowing eyes. That would have been the easiest thing for you to do. Why drag Gart into this?”
“As stated, there are a few who already know of us, Jean. Garrett Bloodnight has the Queen’s favor and is trusted by her implicitly. She knew about him when she was but a teenager, in the war years. In her eyes, he is every bit a true knight. She, more than anyone, has input into who knows what and when they know it.”
“That’s not an answer to my question.”
“You are where you are supposed to me, my girl. So is Garrett Bloodnight. He is trusted. More than this, I won’t say for now.”
“Seems that Gart is trusted by so many, but he says precious little about his past.”
“What, precisely, has he told you?”
“He said he was mortally wounded in WWI. He talked about knowing my great grandfather in WWII, and of how my great grandad saved his life. Not much more. I…I get the feeling I shouldn’t ask. I’m not even sure Mrs. Gast knows.”
“She knows, my dear. She just won’t ever convey anything personal about either or you. Not without your permission.”
“You know Mrs. Gast and didn’t say so to Gart?” Jean criticized.
“You’ll know why, someday soon. As to Bloodnight’s past, there is more to tell, I can assure you.”
Ignoring that bit about Anna Gast for a moment, Jean pursued the subject that was most prominent in her mind. “I’m not asking about his past to pry. I have good reasons for wanting to know about him.”
“Yes, I sense what you feel toward him.”
Jean briefly turned her gaze away.
“Don’t worry, my girl. As Mrs. Gast can keep a secret, I’ve kept thousands. As far as Bloodnight’s history goes…I’ve seen more information about your trainer than he knows is in existence.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Merlin took a deep breath, then continued arranging their late-night repast on a flat, table-like rock in front of him.
Jean didn’t think he’d respond at all, but then he sat on a rock near the makeshift table, motioned for her to take a seat, and stroked his bearded chin.
“Garrett Bloodnight has had many surnames.”
“I’m aware of the fact that he’s certainly changed identities. Before the world could send messages in the span of seconds, he could be anyone he wanted to be.”
“Did he tell you that he never knew his real surname? That all he knows is the given name Garrett, which is why he insisted on always using it? It’s a bit ridiculous, really, but he insisted. Once the computer age began, using any alias repeatedly became problematic for him and a lot of other immortals. Their faces are everywhere, unfortunately.”
“Like I said, he doesn’t tell me too much about his past.”
Merlin turned to the fire pit where he’d initially shown her and Gart his capabilities with the green orb. With a mere lift of his hand, he relit the fire until it was burning brightly, but a normal orange color.
“Don’t worry about anyone seeing the flames, we’re quite blocked by the stones on the hillside, the trees and the tall shrubbery.”
If he was also using magic to hide their presence, the older man didn’t say so, but Jean suspected as much. The light provided a sense of comfort, for which she was grateful.
The owls she and Merlin summoned now began a low, hooting reverie that made the entire scene so much eerier than before.
“Garrett doesn’t even know his age,” Merlin blurted.
“What?”
“He doesn’t know who his parents were. He never has.”
“I don’t under—”
“My girl…the man you know was left on the steps of an orphanage as a small boy. He remembers the name Garrett, and that a woman whose face he doesn’t recall simply left him there. His last image of her was as she walked away. After she told him she’d be ‘right back’.”
A long pause ensued. Jean couldn’t say anything. She felt extreme sorrow that anyone would commit such an act. But they did worse today. She knew that for a fact. She’d read horrible things in the papers and had seen atrocities on the evening news.
“There he was…a ward of the state, as the saying goes.”
“Poor Garrett,” she said, then placed her hand over her heart as an emotional ache settled in that vicinity.
“He worked hard. All his young life. He had many jobs, from dock worker to field hand. He was a farrier, and did odd jobs in cities. Anything to keep himself fed. Whenever a chance was given, he learned a new trade, and learned to read to improve his lot in life. Indeed, he read everything he could get his hands on which might account for his extensive library now.”
“How do you know so much about him? He wasn’t an immortal back then. No one had such extensive records of ordinary citizens. Where did you get this information?” she asked.
“I know virtually everything about him, my good girl. I know that he’s become a fine man. He has many friends within the organization. As I’ve already told you, he has the queen’s most-treasured trust.”
“But he doesn’t even know his own birthday.”
“As an immortal, I’m not sure he cares. If it matters to you, doctors within the organization put him at about thirty-three or thirty-four years of age. Though I don’t know the exact date of his birth, I concur with their findings.”
“How would you know—”
“Before immortality,” Merlin continued, while patently ignoring her new query, “he lied to officials so he could join the army during the Great War. No one back then cared if a recruit was too young. Not if someone so large wanted to fight.”
“But…he never knew who his family was? He never found out?”
Merlin’s response came in the form of a noncommittal stare.
“That’s too sad,” she affirmed.
“Don’t pity him! He found honor and dignity in the service of his country. In war time, his comrades loved him. He quickly rose in rank and has distinguished himself over and over. There is no need to feel sorrow over a life so well lived.”
She took a glass of wine when prompted to do so.
“Jean…I have seen and heard things unknown to even Bloodnight’s superiors. I’d have never suggested you be sent here were it not for the man’s stellar reputation, and my own instincts.”
“You sent me?” she began, then stopped to frown at him. “So, you’re pulling the strings. And you’ve meant for us to be together since I was changed. My presence at Bloodnight Hall was your idea.”
“Indeed. This is the best place to hide a new, so-called immortal; one who will not be revealed to the public though many subordinates in the organization have been led to believe otherwise. They will take their orders and keep their mouths shut or suffer the consequences, as I’ve said. Meanwhile, you are being trained by one of the most revered immortals on the planet.”
Jean swallowed her wine, then gulped a bit more. He immediately refilled her glass to the top.
“Did you know that Bloodnight’s staff are trustworthy unto death. They love him and would do whatever he asked. Indeed, the entire village is quite enamored of the man. He is fair and has made sure children in the community are looked after. He contributes to their education and even medical costs. If there was ever a better definition of a knight, I’ve never heard of it.”
“But you want something more from him. And from me. I can feel it.”
“All in good time, my girl. All in good time. First, let’s keep that bit about my pulling the string to ourselves.”
“I’m not lying to Gart!”
“I’m not asking you to. Just realize that there are reasons fo
r the way I do things. I will tell him. For now, ask other questions. Let Gart ask his.”
“Keeping information to oneself is a lie,” she told him. “But, if you promise to tell Gart that you’re really in charge of the organization, then I’ll go with the program.”
“Grand!” he praised.
“It’s not like I have a choice. You might raise your hand and turn me into a toadstool or something!”
“My dear girl, I would never…at any rate, ask your questions.”
“No. I’ll wait for Gart. I’ve already got one secret that you’re making me keep. I don’t want more.”
He patted her hand. “You’re still reeling from the shock of learning that your Ethereal.”
“I’m shocked, yes! But I’m not afraid.” She blinked and softly muttered the next part. “I don’t know why, but I’m not.”
“As Mother Nature intended. You needed to be eased into this new information after your own personal tragedies.”
She bowed her head and said no more. Without Gart, she felt bereft of the right part of her heart.
“He’ll be back soon. We’ll wait in silence if you wish.”
She sipped the wine he’d poured for her. Sometime later, a warm, safe feeling took the place of emptiness. Gart emerged from the forest, and took his place on a rock beside her. She almost jumped up and hugged him. Something in her attitude must have alerted him. He stared keenly at her for a long moment.
She handed him a glass of wine. Gart kept watching her closely, pointedly. She felt that stare the way one feels heat from a fireplace.
Merlin spoke first. “Well, get to it. Query away, Bloodnight.” Then, he quickly raised one finger as if an afterthought needed to be voiced. “Before you do…perhaps you’d like to know some history of the land to which you lay claim. There is a reason for the name of the hill, and the castle. That reason has been somewhat convoluted through the ages.”
