“Not gonna happen,” Merlin said without pause.
“Please don’t make things difficult, Merlin.”
“I’m not,” Merlin said matter-of-factly. “I’m making it quite simple. I’m not going.”
“I could order you to go.”
“No, you couldn’t. I mean, yes, you could, but it wouldn’t matter since you have no real authority over me.”
“I am your king, man!”
Merlin shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Arthur was livid. The insolence this man showed held no bounds. Even the peasants in town knew better than to stick around after speaking their minds.
“Arthur,” Merlin said as if speaking to a child, which only incensed Arthur further, “I get that you’re the king and all that, but you’re not my king. I’m from a different cut than everyone else and you know it.” By now he had the door fully open and he was using hand gestures. “When they zig, I zag. I’m the yan to their ying…or is it the other way around? Either way, it’s nonsensical to expect me to act as a typical subject when I’m the only one of my kind.” He leaned on the door frame. “You can’t find another wizard, Arthur, and many countries are clamoring to take me away from you as it is.”
“Are you threatening to leave me, Merlin?”
“Yep.”
“Oh.”
Arthur let the angst go. The fact was that the wizard was right, though as long as he remained in Arthur’s employ the king would continue demanding respect, even if those demands continued to fall on deaf ears. This was his kingdom, after all.
“Why do you need me to come along with you, anyway?”
“Because we don’t know where the talisman is, Merlin.”
“Scotland.”
“That’s what I said,” said Arthur, nodding fervently, “but Guinevere pointed out that Scotland is a large country.”
“I suppose it is at that.”
“Come now, Merlin,” Arthur said, “we are in need of your skills. When was the last time I asked you to leave your home for anything?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Merlin said with a groan. Then, suddenly he snapped his fingers and pointed at Arthur. “Hey, wait a snip. I’ve been thinking about making a full-length film for the last few months now, but I’ve not had any ideas on what to cover. This could be the perfect gig.”
“That sounds exciting,” Arthur said supportively.
“Doesn’t it?”
“Honestly, I don’t know because I haven’t the foggiest idea what a full-length film is, or a gig for that matter, but if it will get you out of your door and on the road with us then that’s exciting enough for me.”
Merlin gave a small laugh and then looked at his feet thoughtfully. “I’ll have to bring Allison,” he said softly, as though talking to himself.
“Who?” asked Arthur.
“Oh, you don’t know her. She’s my…uh…apprentice.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” said Arthur. “I didn’t know you had an apprentice.”
“There are many things you don’t know about me, Arthur,” Merlin replied offhandedly. “That’s just the way of things.”
“I have secrets too, you know.”
“Not from me,” Merlin stated. He tapped his chin for a few moments, looking to be deep in thought. “All right,” he said finally, “I’ll go. Allison has been struggling to come up with a topic for her doctoral thesis anyway, so I might finally be able to pay her back for all of her help.”
“Paying back your apprentice?”
“Huh?” Merlin said, clearly realizing again that he wasn’t alone. “Just ignore that. Wizards are an odd bunch, Arthur.”
“I shant argue that point,” Arthur said, feeling as if he’d gotten a bit of an upper hand. “Good, then. We shall leave once the sun strikes noon.”
“Noon is too early,” Merlin objected. “We’ll go around two or three this afternoon. I’ve got things to pack up and such.”
Arthur turned around to look down over the main street again. He certainly had no intention of heading back through that pit of people. It was pathetic that he actually had to consider cutting through the back alley in order to avoid being criticized, but such was the life of a king, he supposed.
“Don’t bring too much, Merlin…” he started as he turned back, only to find that the wizard had shut his door, leaving Arthur alone. “We need to be able to maintain our pace,” he finished in a defeated tone.
MERLIN’S NOTEBOOK: TIME TRAVEL
There's not much known about the full impact of traveling through time. But there is a worry that by having Allison interact with the knights, the world in her future may be drastically altered by the smallest of things.
According to Allison, it's only a one-way street. Her learning about us and sharing that information doesn't impact her era, but our learning about her time would impact both eras. Or something like that. I'm still fuzzy on the details.
It's already bad enough that she and I have discussed many things. Fortunately, I'm a very private person. Even more fortunate is the fact that people tend to fear me and my technology. In other words, I don't share enough for the timeline to be overly abused. I hope.
KICKING OFF
The knights who were slated to join the quest were all in the courtyard waiting to start the journey.
With the afternoon sun beating down on his gear, Arthur couldn’t help but wish he was wearing something more dainty, such as a sundress. Soon enough, he thought hopefully. Until then, he would have to manage the same way he’d done for all of his adult life: begrudgingly.
A couple of the castle helpers brought out the king’s crate. It was probably overkill in packing, but with the potentiality of being able to wear anything he wanted after getting a hold of the ring, he couldn’t resist.
“Sire,” Lance-A-Lot said while staring at the overlarge crate, “I fear that something of that size is going to slow us down immeasurably.”
“I could say the same about you,” Arthur said under his breath.
“What’s that, sire?”
“Nothing, Sir Lance-A-Lot. The items in here are important. Besides, it’s only one crate.”
“Yes, sire, but it’s nearly the size of a man and it probably weighs about as much as one, too.”
“These things are necessities,” Arthur said. “And before you admonish me, maybe you should think about the size of the thing that you’re carrying.”
“It’s attached to me, sire,” Lance-A-Lot said apologetically.
“What? No, not that! I mean your backpack.”
“Oh, yes.” Lance-A-Lot slipped the pack off his shoulder. “Do recall, sire, that I have the duty of carrying your documents and decrees whenever we travel.”
That was true, but there was undoubtedly more in that pack than mere papers. Of course, Arthur had made a lot of decrees over the years. He peered around to find the other men had packs with them that were also rather sizable. Granted, none of them had a crate, but still.
“Arthur,” Guinevere called out from the doorway, “may I have a word, please?” She then smiled at Lance-A-Lot and said, “Oh, hello, Mitch.”
“M’lady,” Lance-A-Lot replied with a bow.
“No,” Arthur said, giving Lance-A-Lot a dirty look, “my lady.” Arthur stormed over to Guinevere and stepped into the shadow of the doorway. “You know I dislike it when you intrude during the knights’ get-togethers.”
“Couldn’t be helped,” she replied calmly. “You are bringing far too much, Arthur. Is it not up to you to set an example for your men?”
“It’s only a few things, apple of my eye. Once I secure the talisman I want to free myself of these dreadful clothes.”
“There will be plenty of time for that when you return. Do you not think I’d rather be wearing trousers right about now?”
“But—”
“Arthur,” she said in a low voice.
“Oh fine,” he replied in a huff, “I’ll pare down a little.”
“No need,” G
uinevere said with a wink while handing him a satchel. “I packed everything you should need right here. And worry you not, for I included something delicious in there for when the time is right. It’s wrapped and carefully placed at the bottom, where it should stay until the right time.”
“Oh?” Arthur said, moving to open the pack.
“Now is not the right time, Arthur,” Guinevere said with a sinister grin. “You must wait.” She lifted his chin and kissed him gently. “Promise me?”
“Okay, okay, I promise.” He then kissed her again. “I shall miss you, my persimmon.”
“And I you. Now, scoot along and bring us back those talismans.”
Arthur returned back to Lance-A-Lot as the housemen struggled to carry his crate back into the castle. Guinevere, as usual, was right. He didn’t need all of the items that he’d brought. His mind raced at what she could have placed in the satchel for him as a surprise, but he was a man of honor. He would not look until the time was right.
“Ah,” Lance-A-Lot said, nodding at the satchel, “that is much more sensible, sire.”
“Well, I thought it through and came to the conclusion that we needn’t have anything to hold us back.”
“Wise, sire.”
“Make sure the others pare down too, will you? Each shall have a satchel such as mine. If an item doesn’t fit, they don’t bring it.”
“I shall speak with them at once, sire.”
Moments later Arthur heard the groaning of men as they began emptying their packs. Bottles were the primary items being set aside, which was a good thing as far as Arthur was concerned. One never knew what to expect when journeying. The last thing he needed was to have a bunch of drunkards at a most inopportune time.
That’s when Merlin came through the gates, towing along a young woman who was dressed funnily. More than that, though, was the carriage that sat just beyond the gate. It had a number of odd-looking devices in it, and the wizard was carrying a few more on his person.
“Hey now,” Sir Galahad complained, “why’s the wizard get to bring all that fluff? I just wanted to have a few periodicals along to feed my mind, but I had to put it all aside.”
“And a few bottles too,” Lance-A-Lot said, pointing.
“Well, yeah, that too.”
Sirs Purcivale and Tristan stepped up and stood on their toes to look out past the gate.
“He’s got loads of bits and bobbles,” said Purcivale.
“It looks as heavy as a bevy, guv,” agreed Tristan.
“I daresay, Mr. Merlin,” started Sir Gawain, who wasn’t even slated to join on with this journey, “you must be some kind of dullard to think that level of carry along is passable.”
Merlin stopped and looked at Gawain with a frown. “First off, Gawain, I don’t need any of the knight’s horses. I have my own. Secondly, you can stuff your insults up your ass and keep them plugged in with a titanium cork.”
“My most humble apologies to you, Mr. Merlin,” Sir Gawain said as his initial shock seemed to fade. “It seems as though I’m speaking out of turn again. I am working on that, but I’ve clearly failed again. May the gods strike me with leprosy for speaking to you as thus. And here I am not even joining the trip. I was just looking into lend assistance.”
“You’re doing a swell job so far,” Merlin said with a grunt.
“Mr. Merlin, may I ask what a titanium cork is?”
“Sure, go head,” Merlin answered with a shrug before turning toward Arthur. “This is Allision Smith. Allison, this is King Arthur of Camelot.”
“Lovely to make your acquaintance, Allison Smith.”
“Just Allison,” she replied. “No reason to use my full name.”
“That’s a nice diversion,” Arthur said with a sideways glance toward Lance-A-Lot.
Merlin then began pointing at each of the other knights, in turn. “And this is Lance-A-Lot and Galahad and Gareth and Gaheris and Purcivale and Tristan.” Then he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb and added, “And that’s Gawain. He’s staying behind.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Allison said with a beaming smile.
“I’ve never been with a witch before,” said Lance-A-Lot in a hungry voice.
“Keep it tucked away, Lance,” Merlin warned, “or I’ll turn it into something a bit more average.”
Lance-A-Lot blanched. “Consider it tucked.”
“Now that we’ve finished with our introductions,” Merlin announced, “I must insist that you all treat Allison as if she’s not truly here. I know it sounds cruel, but it is the way of my…uh…well, order I suppose. Are we clear?”
Nods all around.
“She may ask you questions now and again, and you may answer them, of course, but just be wary of getting too close to her as she learns magic.” He paused and grew dark. “I wouldn’t want any of you to get inadvertently transformed into a frog.”
The knights all looked at Allison and slowly took a step backward.
Even Arthur found himself moving away from the lovely young lady. Magic was a scary thing, or could be anyway.
“Merlin,” Arthur said after a few moments had passed, “do you honestly need to bring all of that? It seems a bit overkill, yes?”
“I saw them dragging your crate away, Arthur,” Merlin said. “Could see that monstrosity from all the way up the hill.”
“Ah, but they did drag it away and now I merely have this satchel. We are all paring down, after all.”
“Sadly,” Merlin retorted, “I cannot. I need all of this. I’ve got cameras, mikes, booms, video editing software, and my laptop. It’s all necessary.”
Arthur wanted to question what those things were. The confused looks on all his knights’ faces spelled that they, too, were curious. But there was no point in asking since the wizard would just claim them to be magical or something.
“Thing is, Merlin, that you’ll just slow us all down.”
“No, I won’t,” Merlin replied. “I have a carriage and two horses. The speed at which we scoot should not be affected.” He smiled convincingly. “If, however, I do slow us down then we’ll just get there when we get there.”
“Hmmm,” said Arthur.
“Seems unfair, if you ask me.”
“Fortunately, Galahad,” Merlin replied with a sneer, “we didn’t.”
“Sir Gaheris,” Arthur said, noticing that the man had no carry-on at all, “do you not have a bag?”
“Don’t need one.”
“No? Not even a hairbrush or possibly a change of clothes?”
“I’m good.”
It looked like Arthur was going to have to have his annual “cleanliness” talk with the burly man again. Every year it was the same thing: Gaheris would start out well enough, combing his hair and having his clothes washed once a week. Then it would slowly degrade into monthly washings and then every two months. Finally it would stop altogether and they would discuss it because the other men would begin to complain.
“Shall we get moving, sire?” Lance-A-Lot suggested. “I would imagine we could at least get in a number of miles before dark.”
“Indeed, we shall,” Arthur said. “Ready your steeds, men.”
“Wait, wait,” Merlin said.
The wizard motioned Allison to stand next to him. She did and then pulled out a long pole that had a shorter pole hanging from it. On the tip of the shorter pole was a fuzzy-looking top. Merlin then set something that looked like a box on his own shoulder. It had a circular piece of glass in its center and a little red light was blinking above it.
“What is this all about?” Arthur asked.
“I’m filming this adventure, remember?”
“I do,” Arthur said, “but I still have no idea what that means.”
“Just tell everyone again that it’s time to depart,” Merlin directed.
“Okay. Everyone, it’s—”
“Wait until I say, ‘action!’”
“Why?”
“It’s just how it�
��s done, Arthur,” Merlin said as if Arthur should have known this already. “Okay, take one, and…action!”
Arthur felt confused. “Everyone…let’s go.”
“Cut!” Merlin yelled and then lowered the box. “Arthur, you have to be more regal than that. You’re a king, right?”
“Well, yes, of course I am.”
“Then act like one,” Merlin said. “Let’s try this again, everyone. Oh, and Lance, could you move over to the right a couple of steps? Good. Now, turn and face us so that bulge of your whatsitwhosit isn’t casting a shadow on Arthur.”
“Always seems to,” Arthur murmured.
“There,” Merlin said as Lance-A-Lot got into place, “that’s perfect. Don’t move. Okay, Arthur, let’s try this again. Take two, and…action!”
Arthur puffed out his chest and put on his best kingly performance.
“We shall commence on our journey straightaway. To your steeds, my knights. Our quest awaits.”
“Annnd…cut,” Merlin said with a smile. “That was dead-on, Arthur. Top-notch stuff.”
“What? Something died? I thought I did it well that time.”
“No, ‘dead-on’ means that you did it perfectly.”
“Oh,” Arthur said, blinking. “Good. I guess.”
MERLIN’S NOTEBOOK: JOURNEYS
There are few things in this world less appealing than journeys. Packing alone is a pain, but that's not the worst of it.
Riding on a horse gives you bruises and hemorrhoids; the elements are constantly bombarding you during your trek; the food typically consists of dried meat and cheese, if you're lucky; camping out brings bugs, snakes, and all manner of creatures into your little world; most inns are run by money-grabbing fools who sell watered-down beer and mysteriously-flavored stews; and there's a constant risk of being jumped by highwaymen along the way.
Allison says that travel is arduous in the future, too, but she does admit that it has improved greatly over my era, except, she says, when flights are delayed, or worse, canceled...though I have no clue what that means.
Comedic Arthurian Bundle: The Adventures of Queen Arthur Page 4
