"If you will not enter willingly," Merlin stated, "my servant will be happy to assist you."
Launcelot spat, straightened a little and glared. "Think you I fear an empty suit of armor, Juggled by some Hell-born wight? Even now. Merlin, without the benefit of wizardly succor, I could take that thing apart." The sorcerer laughed.
"It is good that you at least recall the boasts of knighthood when all else has left you. I've half a mind to give you the opportunity, for the manner of your passing here is not important. Only the preliminaries are essential." "But you're afraid to risk your servant?" "Think you so, old man? I doubt you could even bear the weight of a suit of armor, let alone lift a lance. But if you are willing to try, so be it!"
He rapped the butt of his staff three times upon the ground.
"Enter," he said then. "You will find all that you need within. And I am glad you have made this choice. You were insufferable, you know. Just once, I longed to see you beaten, knocked down to the level of lesser mortals. I only wish the Queen could be here, to witness her champion's final engagement."
"So do I," said Launcelot, and he walked past the monolith and entered the circle.
A black stallion waited, its reins held down beneath arock. Pieces of armor, a lance, a blade and a shield leaned against the side of the dolmen. Across the circle's diameter, a white stallion awaited the advance of the hollow knight.
"I am sorry I could not arrange for a page or a squire to assist you," Merlin, said, coming around the other side of the monolith. "I'll be glad to help you myself, though."
"I can manage," Launcelot replied.
"My champion is accoutered in exactly the same fashion," Merlin said, "and I have not given him any edge over you in weapons."
'"I never liked your puns either."
Launcelot made friends with the horse, then removed a small strand of red from his wallet and tied it about the butt of the lance. He leaned his stick against the dolmen stone and began to don the armor. Meriin, whose hair and beard were now almost black, moved off several paces and began drawing a diagram in the dirt with the end of his staff.
"You used to favor a white charger," he commented, "but I thought it appropriate to equip you with one of another color, since you have'abandoned the ideals of the Table Round, betraying the memory of Camelot."
"On the contrary," Launcelot replied, glancing overhead at the passage of a sudden roll of thunder. "Any horse in a storm, and I am Camelot's last defender."
Merlin continued to elaborate upon the pattern he was drawing as Launcelot slowly equipped himself. The small wind continued to blow, stirring the mist. There came a flash of lightning, startling the horse. Launcelot calmed it.
Merlin stared at him for a moment and rubbed his eyes. Launcelot donned his helmet.
"For a moment," Merlin said, "you looked somehow different. ..."
"Really? Magical withdrawal, do you think?" he asked, and he kicked the stone from the reins and mounted the stallion.
Merlin stepped back from the now-completed diagram, shaking his head, as the mounted man leaned over and grasped the lance.
"You still seem to move with some strength," he said.
"Really?"
Launcelot raised the lance and couched it. Beforetaking up the shield he had hung at the saddle's side, he opened his visor and turned and regarded Merlin.
"Your champion appears to be ready," he said. "So amL"
Seen in another flash of light, it was an unlined face that looked down at Merlin, clear-eyed, wisps of pale gold hair fringing the forehead.
"What magic have the years taught you?" Merlin asked.
"Not magic," Launcelot replied. "Caution. I anticipated you. So, when I returned to the cave for my stick, I drank the rest of your elixir."
He lowered the visor and turned away.
"You walked like an old man. ..."
"I'd a lot of practice. Signal your champion 1"
Merlin laughed.
"Good! It is better this way," he decided, "to see you go down in full strength! You still cannot hope to win against a spirit!"
Launcelot raised the shield and leaned forward.
"Then what are you waiting for?"
"Nothing!" Merlin said. Then he shouted, "Kill him, Raxas!"
A light rain began as they pounded across the field; and staring ahead, Launcelot realized that flames were flickering behind his opponent's visor. At the last possible moment, he shifted the point of his lance into line with the hollow knight's blazing helm. There came more lightning and thunder.
His shield deflected the others lance while his went on to strike the approaching head. It flew from the hollow knight's shoulders and bounced, smouldering, on the ground.
He continued on to the other end of the field and turned. When he had, he saw that the hollow knight, now headless, was doing the same. And beyond him, he saw two standing figures, where moments before there had been but one.
Morgan Le Fay, clad in a white robe, red hair unbound and blowing in the wind, faced Merlin from across his pattern. It seemed they were speaking, but he could not hear the words. Then she began to raise her hands, and they glowed like cold fire. Merlin's staff was also gleaming, and he shifted it before him. Then he saw nomore, for the hollow knight was ready for the second charge.
He couched his lance, raised the shield, leaned forward and gave his mount the signal. His arm felt like a bar of iron, his strength like an endless current of electricity as he raced down the field. The rain was falling more heavily now and the lightning began a constant flickering- A steady rolling of thunder smothered the sound of the hoofbeats, and the wind whistled past his helm as he approached the other warrior, his lance centered on his shield.
They came together with an enormous crash. Both knights reeled and the hollow one fell, his shield and breastplate pierced by a broken lance. His left arm came away as he struck the earth; the lancepoint snapped and the shield fell beside him. But he began to rise almost immediately, his right hand drawing his long sword.
Launcelot dismounted, discarding his shield, drawing his own great blade. He moved to meet his headless foe. The other struck first and he parried it, a mighty shock running down his arms. He swung a blow of his own. It was parried.
They swaggered swords across the field, till finally Launcelot saw his opening and landed his heaviest blow. The hollow knight toppled into the mud, his breastplate cloven almost to the point where the spear's shaft protruded. At that moment, Morgan Le Fay screamed.
Launcelot turned and saw that she had fallen across the pattern Merlin had drawn. The sorcerer, now bathed in a bluish light, raised his staff and moved forward. Launcelot took a step toward them and felt a great pain in his left side.
Even as he turned toward the half-risen hollow knight who was drawing his blade back for another blow, Launcelot reversed his double-handed grip upon his own weapon and raised it high, point downward.
He hurled himself upon the other, and his blade pierced the cuirass entirely as he bore him back down, nailing him to the earth. A shriek arose from beneath him, echoing within the armor, and a gout of fire emerged from the neck hole, sped upward and away, dwindled in the rain, flickered out moments later.
Launcelot pushed himself into a kneeling position. Slowly then, he rose to his feet and turned toward thetwo figures who again faced one another. Both were now standing within the muddied geometries of power, both were now bathed in the bluish light. Launcelot took a step toward them, then another.
"Merlin!" he called out, continuing to advance upon them. "I've done what I said I wouldi Now I'm coming to kill you!"
Morgan Le Fay turned toward him, eyes wide.
"No!" she cried. "Depart the circle! Hurry! I am holding him heret His power wanes! In moments, this place will be no more. Go!"
Launceiot hesitated but a moment, then turned and walked as rapidly as he was able toward the circle's perimeter. The sky seemed to boil as he passed among the monoliths, He advanced another
dozen paces, then had to pause to rest. He looked back to the place of battle, to the place where the two figures still stood locked in sorcerous embrace. Then the scene was imprinted upon his brain as the skies opened and a sheet of fire fell upon the far end of the circle.
Dazzled, he raised his hand to shield his eyes. When he "lowered it, he saw the stones falling, soundless, many of them fading from sight. The rain began to slow immediately. Sorceror and sorceress had vanished along with much of the structure of the still-fading place. The horses were nowhere to be seen. He looked about him and saw a good-sized stone. He headed for it and seated himself. He unfastened his breastplate and removed it, dropping it to the ground. His side throbbed and he held it tightly. He doubled forward and rested his face on his left hand.
The rains continued to slow and finally ceased. The wind died. The mists returned.
He breathed deeply and thought back upon the conflict. This,-this was the thing for which he had remained after all the others, the thing for which he had waited, for so long. It was over now, and he could rest.
There was a gap in his consciousness. He was brought to awareness again by a light. A steady glow passed between his fingers, pierced his eyelids. He dropped his hand and raised his head, opening his eyes.
It passed slowly before him in a halo of white light. He removed his sticky fingers from his side and rose to hisfeet to follow it. Solid, glowing, glorious and pure, not at all like the image in the chamber, it led him on out across the moonlit plain, from dimness to brightness to dimness, until the mists enfolded him as he reached at last to embrace it.
HERE ENDETH THE BOOK OF LAUNCELOT, LAST OF THE NOBLE KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE, AND HIS ADVENTURES WITH RAXAS, THE HOLLOW KNIGHT, AND MERLIN AND MORGAN LE FAY, LAST OF THE WISE FOLK OF CAMELOT, IN HIS QUEST FOR THE SANGREAL.
QUO FAS ET GLORIA DVCUNT.
STAND PAT, RUBY STONE
I wrote this in a hurry for complicated reasons involving The llliisiraled Roger Zeiazny, and then the reasons evaporated and it got published in a different place than was originally intended, but everything worked out okay.
When it was agreed that we would marry, the three of us went to Old Voyet of the Long Legs to select a stone signifying the betrothal. This was to be our choice alone, as was the custom.
Kwib favored one the color of passion itself, bright blue, looking as if it were a solid drop of the great ocean. I preferred a jewel the color of fire, representing peace and stability in the home. Since our beloved agreed with me, the ruby stone, a more expensive gem, was selected and Old Voyet of the Long Legs made the incision in our beloved's brow, set the stone there and bandaged it in place. Our beloved, thenceforth to be known as Ruby Stone, was very brave. He held us and stared at the ground, unmoving, throughout that terrible little ritual.
"Never hurts me a bit," Old Voyet of the Long Legs remarked, "and I've done the Woods know how many over the returnings."We did not reply to the crude humor, but made arrangements to see her paid before the ceremony.
"Will there be a Bottom-Top settlement for all to see?" she asked.
"No, we believe in privacy in these matters," I answered, perhaps too quickly, for the look I received in reply showed that it had been taken as a sign of weakness. No matter. The walker with the mitteltoth knows its wilpering best.
We bade one another farewell and departed in the three directions, to remain at station houses until Ruby Stone should heal sufficiently to be fit for the ceremony.
I rested and practiced thorn-throwing while I waited for the joggler. On the tenth day it came napping to my door. Before I slew it, I took its message and learned that we would be wed two days hence. The joggler's innards augured a mixed destiny but its flesh was tender.
Alone at the station house, I bathed and flagellated myself in preparation for the rites. I slept beneath a sacred tree. I watched the stars through its branches. I made offering of the joggler's bones at its mossy base. I listened to the singers who flew through the Wood— moist, coarse tongues hanging vinelike—collecting relatives, the little singers, to serve the belly-fillmg role in the great song-show of life.
One singer shrieked horribly in mid-swoop and was dragged downward by the tongue to disappear within the pot of a korkanus—a noisy piece of blackness torn from the night.
Before morning, I was at the plant's side, waiting for it to evert its stomach. It made a gurgling, slopping noise just as light was beginning to come into the world, ridding itself of the previous day's dross in a little steaming pool. I sprang back so as not to be splashed by the burning fluid. With a stick, I rummaged through the korkhanus's wastes as it sucked itself back into shape, probing among the bones and scales it had dumped.
They were present, two sets of talons—six, altogether —amid the pulpy remains. I fished them out with my stick and bore them off to the river on a mat of leaves, where I would clean and polish them. I took this as a good omen.
That day I also sharpened the talons and mounted them along the lengths of two sticks I could hold, asthey were far better equipment than any I possessed. I wore them as part of a belt I then wove, looking much like hardroot rings to a wooden clasp.
The rest of the day I purified myself and thought often of my mates to be, and of our wedding. I ate the prescribed meal that evening and repaired early to the sacred tree, where I bad some difficulty in turning to sleep.
The following morning, I made my way back along the route I had taken to the station house. I met with Kv ib and Ruby Stone at the plac' where we had parted. We did not touch one another, but exchanged formal greetings:
"Root of life."
"Guardian of the egg."
"Bringer of sustenance,"
"Reaper of the Wood."
"Walkers in the preiire."
"Haii."
"Hail."
"Hail."'
"Are you ready to take your way to the Tree of Life?"
"I am ready to take my way to the Tree of Life."
"Are you ready to hang the emblem of your troth upon it?"
"I am ready to hang the emblem of my troth upon it"
"I am ready to accept you both as mate."
"I am ready to accept you both as mate."
"I am ready to accept you both as mate."
"Then let us go to the Tree of Life."
We leaped into the air and danced and spun and darted, soaring high above the Wood in the sparkling light of day. We turned and curved and circled about one another until we could barely stay aloft. Then we made our way to the great Tree, hung with its countless emblems, there to add our own with the appropriate words and acts. When we touched the ground at its base, Kwib and I each seized one of Ruby Stone's wings and tore it away.
Old Voyet of the Long Legs, Yglin the Purple-Streaked and Young Dendlit Lopleg were present, among others, to observe, congratulate and offer advice. We listened with some impatience, for we were anxious to be on our way. Observers take great delight in delaying newlyweds who wish to be about their business.
The three of us embraced in various ways and badethe others farewell. There was a murmur of disappointment that things would go no further at that point. But we raised Ruby Stone and together bore him back to the dwelling we had selected, bright nuptial stone glistening in his proud and polished brow. All of us made a fine appearance as we proceeded through the Wood to the Home. The others followed slowly behind us, humming.
When we reached the threshold we patted Ruby Stone's wingstumps and placed him within but did not ourselves enter.
"Behold, you will wait," we said together.
"I wiil wait, Beloveds."
Kwib and I faced one another. The humming ceased. We ignored the onlookers.
"Beloved, let us walk together," Kwib said.
"Yes, Beloved. We shall walk."
We turned and made our way past those who had accompanied us, moving into the solitude of the Wood. For a long while we went in silence, taking care not to touch one another. We came at lengt
h upon a small glade, pleasantly shaded.
"Beloved, shall it be here?" Kwib asked me.
"No, Beloved," I said.
"Very well. Dear One." ^
We continued on, watching one another, moving in a leisurely fashion. The sun reached the overhead position and began its descent.
After a time, "Beloved, do you wish to rest?" Kwib asked.
"Not yet, Beloved. Thank you."
"It occurs to me, Partner in Love, that we are heading toward the place of Trader Hawkins. Would you wish to stop by there?"
"For what purpose. Fire of my Life?"
"A drink of the heating beverage. Love."
I thought about it. The effects of the heating beverage might well serve to hasten things.
"Yes, Co-Walker in the Path of Bliss," I replied. "Let us visit Trader Hawkins first,"
We went on toward the foothills.
"Light of Love," I asked, "is it true that there is a mate in a hole behind the Earthman's dwelling?"
"I have heard this. Love, and I have seen the place, but I do not know. I have heard that the mate is dead.""Strange, Dearest."
"Yes, Beloved."
We sat across from one another when we finally rested, watching. Kwib's dear form was sharp and supple is the deepening shadows, and larger than my own. A moon climbed into the sky. Another, far smaller, followed it later. I had grown hungry as the day progressed, but I said nothing. It is better not to eat, and so it is better not to speak of it.
We arrived at the foothills around dusk. Small lights from the trading post were visible among the trees. Night sounds had already begun about us. I smelled strange odors on the breeze that came down from the mountains.
As we passed through the brush, I said, "Dearest Kwib, I would like to see first the place where the dead mate is kept."
"I will show it to you. Partner in Life."
Kwib led me around to the rear of the building. As we went, it seemed that I caught a glimpse of Trader Hawkins sitting on the darkened front porch of the dwelling, gigantic in the moonlight, drinking.
Kwib led me to a huge plot of earth on which nothing grew. At one end of it was set a stone with peculiar markings. A bunch of dead flowers lay at its base.
The Last Defender Of Camelot Page 32
