by Tom Larcombe
{Anthony, we're at the rear end of the column. Where are you?} Merlin sent.
{Come up to the river, you'll find me on this bank.} came the reply.
Merlin and Gunter moved up to the riverbank, passing by the tail end of the troops. They found Anthony on the edge of the river, staring intently at a makeshift bridge that the men and machines were passing over.
“Good, it's holding,” Anthony said.
“The bridge is your work?” Merlin asked.
“Yes, one of the things we've been doing is putting together makeshift bridges over the smaller rivers. Then we bind and strengthen them with magic so they'll hold up to the passage of the troops.”
“That's clever. I imagine it lets larger units show up unexpectedly?”
“It did for a while until the Germans figured out what we were doing. It has less impact now, but it still makes logistics much easier.”
Anthony dug into a pocket on his uniform and removed a crystal.
“Here you go, I've several with a partial charge if you need those also.”
“No, you need to keep some energy for yourself. This will do for now. As we pass through the troops I'll keep an eye out for other wizards and try to get some more. Thank you for this. It makes it that much more likely for me to succeed.”
“You're welcome. We wouldn't be this far by now if you hadn't shown us how to destroy those strong points. What happened to you on that last one anyhow?”
Merlin sounded rather sharp when he answered.
“It's a long story. Suffice it to say that I was expected and ran into some difficulties. It took me a while to extract myself from them but I managed it.”
Anthony looked curious but didn't probe further. Merlin tucked the crystal into his satchel before turning to Gunter.
“I smell fish. I wonder...”
Gunter looked at Merlin.
“Are you sure you want to stop here? We haven't come very far yet,” Gunter said.
“We won't stop for the day, just a half hour or so. Trust me when I tell you I'll be much better for the delay. At least I will be if I'm successful.”
As Merlin and Gunter spoke, they moved east along the river. Once they were out of sight of the troops, Merlin turned to the river bank.
He tested an idea for a moment, creating a mesh shield against physical objects. He altered it slightly so that no physical objects would pass through the strands of the mesh no matter how slowly they moved. Then he let the spell drop and reformed a larger version of it on the river bottom. He watched the water and when he saw movement over his shield he tugged the ends of it up, trapping a fish. Bringing the shield out of the water, he removed the fish and let the shield drop to the bottom once again.
After a half hour of fishing with his makeshift lift net Merlin had caught twelve fish large enough to be worth keeping. He looked over at Gunter.
“Would you like one of these? You can probably cook it up quickly.”
“Are you going to eat these like you did the others?”
Merlin nodded, lifting the first of the fish to his mouth. Gunter paled slightly as Merlin opened his mouth in preparation to eat the raw fish.
“No thank you then. I'll just... go over this way and have some rations.”
Gunter turned quickly but not before he saw Merlin bite down into the fish's head. Fifteen minutes later Merlin was done. He washed his hands and face in the water before returning to Gunter.
“I'm sorry Gunter, I don't know why I need to eat like this but it really is necessary. It relieves some very uncomfortable symptoms I'm experiencing.”
“I won't ask. I'm not sure I want to know. Are you positive that you're in good enough shape to be traveling now?”
“Yes, the symptoms are irritating but not debilitating. It's just much easier for me to concentrate on anything when I'm not experiencing them.”
“Then we should get moving again.”
* * *
The two men traveled north for a while. By agreement they were staying in the relatively safer area behind the front lines. The front line had moved far to the east of where it was before Merlin was taken prisoner. They could travel north for two or three days on foot before they needed to turn east to get to Berlin.
A part of Merlin wanted to go directly to the front lines and fight his way through anyone between him and his target. The rational part of his brain won the ensuing argument though, so they were staying out of the fight for as long as they could without causing delays.
Their plans for a two to three day walk ended abruptly towards the evening of the first day. The pace they'd set had been hard. It had resulted in them covering twenty-five miles before dusk. While they were looking for a campsite, Merlin heard an engine start up.
“Gunter, do you hear that?” Merlin said softly.
“Yes, I do. Shall we check it out?”
Merlin nodded and raised a finger to his lips suggesting they do so quietly.
Their caution was unnecessary. The truck they heard starting was an American transport, half full of tired soldiers. They walked into the clearing and approached the driver, trusting their USO uniforms to keep them safe.
“Got a ride for a couple of tired soldiers?” Gunter asked.
“Sure thing, I don't have a full load anyhow. These boys got themselves lost during the cleanup efforts. I've got to get them back to their home unit. Where you headed?”
“We need to go northeast of here,” Merlin said.
“Well then, hop in back. I'm taking these boys to Ninth Army which is located in the direction you're going.”
Merlin and Gunter climbed into the back of the truck wearily. They found half the men back there already asleep. Gunter leaned over and whispered to Merlin.
“They've got a good plan. Why don't you sleep for a while and I'll keep watch. I'll wake you in a couple of hours so we can switch places.”
Merlin needed no encouragement to follow Gunter's plan. He nodded his assent and then slumped down on the seat making himself as comfortable as possible.
It was dark when Merlin felt himself being shaken awake. He switched duties with Gunter who, like the veteran soldier he was, fell asleep immediately.
Merlin's itch was still controllable but he could feel it growing. He knew that meant the scales were covering more and more of his body and that worried him. He'd occasionally suffered minor ailments and oddities from overuse of his magic and he'd originally credited this as more of the same. It didn't seem to be getting better though, and his out-of-character emotions and cravings seemed to be directly tied to it.
He spent a great deal of time thinking about the problem, but the only possible explanation he came up with seemed too far-fetched.
The truck stopped once, interrupting Merlin's train of thought, and he started to stand. He settled back into his seat when he heard the driver greet someone and ask about refueling.
Why would they refuel in the dark? I bet it's so the Germans don't have a target, he thought. If there were lots of lights here, then it could be targeted by artillery or something else if the area is in range.
Having settled the question to his satisfaction, he leaned back against the side of the truck and picked up his train of thought.
Anguis suggested that he knew something about this. I wonder if he's ready to tell me yet.
{Anguis?}
{Yes, Merlin?} came the prompt reply.
{You said that you knew something about this problem I'm having with the scales. Is that something you can tell me about yet?}
{No, it isn't. The worst part of it is that I can't even remember what the trigger that will let me tell you about it is. I just know that there is one and that this message buried in my brain is to be delivered to you when the trigger is satisfied.}
{Can you speculate about the problem? The only idea I've come up with has to be wrong.}
{I know you're growing and it involves scales. That told me that the metal would be a good idea because it relieve
d my itching when I was growing. Beyond that, I don't know. I just know that eating metal makes for stronger scales and stops the itch.}
{Well thank you for that suggestion, it seems to be working well so far.}
Anguis' mental voice was forlorn when he replied.
{Maybe you're growing your own armor so you won't need me anymore.}
{Anguis, you're my friend. If I grow my own armor, that won't change. I always worry about you getting injured when you do things like become armor for me, or volunteer for an attack. You're unique and I don't want to see you injured. That you're my friend makes it even harder for me to watch you put yourself in danger, especially if it's to protect me.}
Anguis' reply came through as a warm, fuzzy feeling of contentment.
It was still dark when the truck stopped again. This time the driver was challenged for a password. After he answered the truck crawled forward slowly and Merlin could feel masses of people all around. When the driver turned the engine off, Merlin heard them as well. They were quiet for the number of people he sensed but only comparatively so. Thousands of men make a lot of noise even if they're trying to be quiet.
He shook Gunter awake.
“I think we're at the truck's destination. We're in a large camp, filled with people,” Merlin said.
“Well, that's what we wanted, yes? These are probably the troops that are active on the front.”
“I haven't heard any gunfire or artillery yet so I don't think we're at the front.”
“They'll rotate men out of the front when they can. Too many days in constant combat wears a man's mind down. They want soldiers, not madmen, and even a few hours away helps.”
“Are you sure that's whats going on here?” Merlin asked.
“No, but I always tried to get my men some downtime after combat or a stressful situation. Keeps them in better shape for the next time.”
“So now what, should we move out to the east?”
“I suggest we wait until dawn at least, maybe get some breakfast if they have a mess hall set up here. If we can find a clear area we can each get a little more sleep while the other stands guard.”
“Do we really need to post a guard in the middle of this camp?”
“We're in a war zone Merlin. This isn't our unit and they don't know us. So we need to be on guard against the enemy and against our own side mistaking us for the enemy.”
Merlin nodded, dismayed at the necessity.
“Well then, shall we find somewhere to sleep?”
The two men wandered the edge of the camp. Finally they bedded down near an area that held lots of soldiers with no tents who were just rolled up in blankets, or whatever they had, in order to keep warm. They each managed another three hours of sleep before dawn.
The sun rose and the camp came to life. Merlin noticed that they were getting lots of stares from the soldiers.
“Gunter, is everyone staring at us or am I imagining things?”
Gunter looked around.
“There are quite a few staring at us. I think it's for two reasons. One, our uniforms are in much better shape than most of the ones around us and two, they're in a different style. All the soldiers close by are wearing nearly identical uniforms.”
“Well then, perhaps we should get out of sight for a few moments and fix that?” Merlin asked.
“That's probably a good idea. Maybe walk off into those trees over there? After you fix our uniforms we can come back in by a different route.”
They walked until the trees screened them from sight. Merlin quickly altered Gunter's uniform to the style of the soldiers he'd seen and made it look more worn and tattered than it truly was. He asked Anguis to alter his appearance to match. After both of their uniforms were more in keeping with those of the soldiers they'd seen, Gunter led the way back towards the camp. They decided to swing wide so that anyone who saw them enter the trees wouldn't see them coming back out in different uniforms.
“First order of business is breakfast,” Gunter said. “We should save our own supplies for when nothing else is available.”
Merlin sniffed the air but all he smelled was the masses of unwashed soldiers.
“How do we find the mess tent?” he asked.
“Look for the lines. Soldiers are always worried about their stomachs so if there's a mess tent there will be lines at it already. They always complain about the food, but they're still eager to get it.”
They wandered through the camp for a few minutes before coming across a long line of soldiers. When Merlin sniffed the air again, he smelled the cooking food along with the previous odors he'd noticed.
“That's it. Shall we get in line?” Merlin asked.
Gunter nodded and pulled a pair of mess kits out of his bag. He handed one to Merlin and then stood patiently.
“Hurry up and wait seems to be the motto of every army,” he commented.
A few minutes later the line started moving. When they got to the food, Merlin loaded his mess kit with as much as they'd give him. They sat down to eat and even with the large portions he'd gotten Merlin finished first and found himself looking back at the chow line longingly.
A hand came to rest on Merlin's soldier gently, startling him. He looked up and back.
“Good, it is you Merlin. I thought it was,” the man said.
Merlin recognized the man but was having a problem putting a name to the face. After a few seconds, he remembered.
“Rhys? Is that you?”
“Yes, I'm glad I found you. After Gunter is done eating, you should come with me.”
“What's a Welsh wizard doing with the U.S. Ninth Army?”
“It's a long story and I'd rather tell it somewhere else than in a crowded mess tent,” Rhys said.
“Then let's be on our way,” Gunter said, rising from the table.
“Aren't you going to finish your breakfast?” Merlin asked.
Gunter shook his head.
“I'm done.”
“Then you wouldn't mind if I...”
Gunter gestured towards his remaining food and Merlin made short work of it.
“Let's clean up and then follow Rhys. I want to know why he's here,” Gunter said.
“It isn't just me Gunter. There are several others you'll recognize as well, along with a couple of us I don't think you've met before,” Rhys said.
Gunter and Merlin cleaned up and let Rhys lead them out of the tent. They followed him to the outskirts of the camp and found several more men waiting. A few of them were Merlin's former students.
“You know Morgen, Sionn, and Iestynn. The other three are Evan, Owain, and Llyod. Before you ask, yes we're all wizards. Including the other two that aren't here right now. You can meet Trystan and Kayne later on. We were sent here to meet you, told that you'd need our help.”
* * *
Merlin stared at the seven wizards who faced him.
Who told them this and what help am I going to need? he wondered.
“Tell me everything they told you,” he said.
“Have a seat, it's going to take a while.”
Rhys matched his actions to his words and sprawled on the ground.
“It was a couple of weeks back,” he said. “My commanding officer came to me and told me to report to higher up. I won't name any names, but my contact was well up the chain of command. Evidently he knew of wizards and their capabilities. My guess is that he's a minor one himself.”
Rhys shifted to draw out a pack of cigarettes. He offered one to Merlin, who declined, then Rhys lit one himself and continued.
“Anyhow, this officer told me that he'd had direct contact with Someone from Wales. You could hear the capital 'S' he used. This Someone told him that you were undertaking a vitally important task and that you were going to need some additional help to complete it.”
“Praesagium!” Merlin spat.
“That's my guess, but no names were used. The officer directed me to pick several other wizards and unobtrusively attach ourselves to
U.S. Ninth Army. He said you'd show up here around now and that I would be able to recognize you since you'd trained me,” Rhys said.
“Did he say anything else?” Merlin asked
“He told me to make sure that we weren't discovered tagging along with the Ninth. So we, and all of our equipment, are under a spell that makes everyone else think we belong here. Doesn't take much energy and sure makes things easier. The officers all think we're doing what we're supposed to and don't try to give us orders.”
Rhys put his cigarette out and field-stripped the butt, sending little portions of tobacco and paper drifting on the light breeze.
“For our part, we make sure we're near the front whenever action is expected.”
“So, someone thinks there are spies in Ninth Army?” Merlin asked.
“He didn't say as much but that's the logical conclusion. Anyhow, here you are, just as predicted. What help do you need?”
“I wasn't aware that I was going to need help,” Merlin said.
“What mission are you on?”
“I'm going to kill the creature that has the German High Command acting insane. If we remove her, then it's possible they may come to their senses. She also has Nimue and my unborn daughter under constant attack so time is an issue here. I need to get through the front lines, through the German army, and to Berlin as quickly as I can.”
Rhys stared at Merlin, ready to laugh. When he saw Merlin's face, Rhys lost his smile.
“You're serious?”
Merlin nodded.
“You may need more help than we can provide, but I'm glad I chose who I did. Evan, Owain, and Llyod are a tank crew. They've discovered some interesting ways to integrate magic and tank warfare.”
“They can tell me more about that later on. Do you know when the men from here are moving to the front?”
“All the time. They cycle some back here and move others back to the front every day. If you see a truck heading east, it's bound for the front lines. I have heard that there's a major push planned shortly. The Ninth just finished helping clear the Ruhr Pocket and they'll be making a heavy push to the east soon.”
“Soon as in weeks or days?” Merlin asked.
“I don't know for sure. That's just what I've overheard. I don't want to ask anyone directly, that would strain the boundaries of the spell keeping us unnoticed.”
