by T J Mayhew
“See? What did I tell you?” Logan asked smugly. “Cold as ice.”
The next few days passed quickly enough. Between them, Merlin, Bedivere and Galahad had identified two other villages they could visit en-route back to Camelot.
The first had been surprisingly easy to win over as many men and women were already preparing their families’ departure by the time they had arrived. It had only taken a few words from Cai to convince them to accompany them to Camelot and it wasn’t long before the whole village had been welcomed into their ranks and they were back on the road again.
As they continued their journey, Cai couldn’t help but marvel at how easy this all felt now; talking to people wasn’t nearly as scary as he had thought it would be. His new role was beginning to feel natural to him, as if he had been doing it all his life. But, he didn’t kid himself; he knew he still had a lot to prove but, for now at least, this was a start and he was content to acknowledge his success.
Their progress was slower now and, when they eventually arrived at the third and final village, Cai couldn’t have been more relieved to see it; they would soon be returning to Camelot. The village was larger than the previous two and, as they approached, Cai noticed all the traditional buildings usually found in thriving villages; a blacksmith, tavern and several small shops as well as houses and stables. He also noted a good many animals, something the other villages had lacked.
Cai felt a sense of excitement and hope surge through him as he entertained the idea of recruiting all of these people; the skills they would bring with them would be invaluable.
As he entered the village, however, his excitement turned to bewilderment as he realised something was wrong, very wrong; closer inspection revealed that all the windows were boarded up and the streets empty. In fact, apart from the sound of chickens and a dog barking in the distance, the village appeared deserted. Cai wondered if Morgan and Mordred had already been here; the only thing that gave him any hope was that the village hadn’t been totally destroyed. He knew, from past experience, there was no way they would have left anything alive or standing.
Glancing uneasily at Merlin, Cai turned his horse onto the main road leading to the centre of the village. As he passed by the boarded windows, Cai had the uncanny feeling that he was being watched but by whom, and from where, he had no idea. As he rode on, he looked about him but saw no sign of anyone: no one on the street or in the alleys… no movement at all.
Suddenly, Cai’s attention was drawn to the road ahead as a large group of men appeared; he estimated there to be about fifty. Frozen to the spot, he stared at them; a moment ago the road had been empty, now it was full, full of angry men, each armed with either a sword, spear or axe. They came to an abrupt stop and positioned their shields in front of them to create a wall; a solitary man stood at their head.
Behind him, Cai heard his men react, reaching for their own weapons; he held up a hand to stop them. Turning in his saddle, he shook his head and was pleased to see they had all obeyed but remained poised, their hands resting on their swords, just in case.
“You will go no further,” called the dark haired man at the head of the group. He was tall and broad shouldered, his skin thick and leathery attesting to many hours spent in the sun. A pink scar cut across his left cheek, a stark contrast to his tanned skin. His dark eyes bored into Cai.
Cai reined in his horse, eager to put these men at ease; the last thing he wanted was to push them too far and goad them into a fight. “We mean you no harm,” he began, hoping they could see the truth in his words.
The man squinted up at Cai. Jerking his chin towards him, he demanded, “Who are you?”
“I am Cai Pendragon,” Cai announced, his gaze wandering over the men. “And I have come to offer you all a better life than this.”
On hearing these words, a few of the men glanced at each other questioningly, muttering in confusion. Their leader raised a hand, immediately silencing them; Cai marvelled at his power.
Stepping forward, the man kept his eyes trained on Cai. “And what makes you think we’ll trust you?” he demanded. “This land has become dangerous; we trust no one.”
“But you’re not safe here,” Cai protested. “If you come with us…”
The man shook his head adamantly. “We will not leave our homes,” he insisted.
“Even if it means dying in them?” Bedivere challenged.
The man barely acknowledged him. “Dying does not frighten us,” he declared.
Merlin nudged his horse forward, halting as the man brandished his sword at him.
“Come no further,” he warned. “Or I’ll…” But before he could finish, Merlin swept his hand before him; the man’s sword flew from his grasp and was momentarily suspended in mid-air before, finally, dropping to the ground.
Open-mouthed, the man stared at him. “What evil are you?” he demanded fearfully, stepping backwards but determined not to lose face in front of his men.
Merlin barely flinched at the use of the word ‘evil’. “I assure you, I am nothing compared to the evil that now stalks this land.”
Encouraged by Merlin’s words and the fact that he hadn’t attacked him, the man edged forward and picked up his sword, all the while, his eyes fixed on Merlin.
A young man, only a few years older than Cai, stepped forward. “We have heard rumours,” he began. “Rumours of a woman who can…” He fell silent, unable to continue.
“All you’ve heard is true,” Cai stated; the man’s head snapped up at these words and he stared in disbelief at Cai. “That woman you’ve heard of is Morgan le Fay; she, and her son, Mordred, want to claim this land and its people for themselves; they want to take all that we hold dear, all that we love…” He gestured at himself and the men and women behind him. “We do not intend to let that happen. Join our cause.”
The villagers stared at them, openly assessing their chances; Cai felt uncomfortable under their intense scrutiny.
The villagers’ leader snorted. “You want us to leave here… for what exactly? A chance to get us all killed?” he demanded.
“No, for a chance to fight for what’s yours,” Cai argued.
The man stared at him. “We can just as well do that here.”
“Forgive me, but you are a small force of men,” Merlin pointed out. “You would not last long against Morgan and Mordred, as many here will testify.” He paused, allowing his words to sink in. “If you stay, and if you are invaded, you will be forced to change allegiances…”
“We will never change allegiances,” the man snarled, his temper flaring. “Our allegiance is to our women and children; no one else,” he added pointedly, glaring at Cai.
The young man who had spoken earlier moved forward. “But… Father,” he said quietly. “Maybe they have a point; maybe they can offer us safety.” He glanced hopefully at Cai.
Cai took the hint, nodding enthusiastically. “We can take you all to Camelot,” he offered. “We can be there in two days’…”
The man ignored Cai, instead, focusing on his son. “What are you saying, boy?” he demanded gruffly. “You would abandon us and this village?”
“No, not abandon,” the younger man protested. “Merely…” He searched for the right word. “Better our chances of survival.” He gestured at the men. “Every day we wait here behind our shutters, every day we wait for someone to attack us. Do you want to continue with this game or would you go out and meet the evil head-on?”
Father and son stared at each other intensely for a moment; as he watched, Cai was reminded of the showdown Aelwen had had with Badden a few days before.
Glancing behind him, he caught sight of Aelwen sitting astride her horse, watching the scene avidly; sensing Cai’s attention, she turned her eyes to him and he quickly looked away.
The older man took a threatening step towards his son, forcing him to step back. “If I didn’t know any better,” he said quietly. “I’d think you were suggesting we turn our backs on our lives here, o
n everything we’ve built.” He shook his head. “So be it, boy; if you want to leave, go. But know that you’d be giving up everything: your family, your livelihood…” He turned to Cai. “You have my decision: we stay here.”
“But…” Cai started to protest.
“No, my word is final!” the man insisted. “You shall take your men and leave; you are not welcome in this village.” He glanced at his son. “Make your decision, boy.”
Cai couldn’t help but notice his smug expression as his son returned to his place amongst the villagers.
The man turned back to Cai expectantly.
“Will you not listen to reason?” Galahad demanded, his voice betraying his desperation and frustration.
The man refused to reply and Merlin sighed.
“I fear there is nothing else to say,” he murmured.
Cai nodded, knowing Merlin was right. “Very well,” he conceded. “We’ll leave but…” He raised his voice for everyone to hear. “If any of you do change your minds…” He looked at the young man as he spoke, “We shall set up camp on the southern road for the night; we will be leaving at first light.”
Satisfied he had said all he could under the circumstances, Cai gave the order for the men to leave and, as he guided Rei out of the village, he caught sight of Aelwen watching him. As their eyes met, her gaze softened and she offered him a weak smile before turning and guiding her own horse along the road.
And, as he focused on his own path, Cai became aware of a warm feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.
10
Staring into the flames, amid the background murmur of the camp, Cai reflected upon the days’ events. He couldn’t shake the feeling there was more he should have done to convince the villagers to join them; he shouldn’t have given up so easily, he should have fought harder for their future. He knew that, by staying there, the villagers were sitting ducks no matter how much they tried to convince themselves otherwise. He also felt he had let down those that had already chosen to follow him; how could he offer them hope when he couldn’t persuade others to join their cause? He needed more men: more warriors, more skilled craftsmen.
“You cannot allow yourself to focus on what you have lost, Cai.”
Merlin’s voice interrupted his thoughts. Looking across the flames, he turned his attention to the older man; Galahad, beside him, appeared to be engrossed in sharpening his sword, though Cai suspected he was half-listening to their conversation.
“Sorry, I’m just…” Cai began.
Merlin’s eyes softened in sympathy. “I know; you’re disappointed, as well you should be,” he commented drily. “We all are, Cai.”
Cai shook his head, not ready to let it go just yet. “I should have tried harder; said something…” He shrugged and shook his head, searching for the right word. “Better… something more inspiring,” he concluded.
“Like what, exactly?” Merlin challenged.
Cai frowned. “What?”
“Well, what else would you have said?” Merlin asked.
Cai was silent at first, his mind working overtime. What would he have said, had he had the opportunity?
Merlin smiled at Cai’s obvious dilemma. “There was nothing else you could have said, Cai,” he added gently.
Cai looked up at him. “But…” he sighed. It wasn’t enough to just accept that; he wanted to do more. He wanted to make them see the danger they were in, to protect them, protect all his people from Morgan and Mordred. “We’re going to leave them here,” he stated, unable to accept it.
“That is as may be, for we have no choice,” Merlin reasoned. “We cannot force people to abandon their homes.”
“Why wouldn’t they come with us?”
Merlin considered, before speaking. “Some people are proud and that pride can lead them to make decisions that aren’t necessarily the most sensible, or right, at the time. I wish it were not so, but… such is the way of life.” Cai shook his head, frustrated. “All we can do is tell them the situation, as it stands,” Merlin continued. “What they choose to do with that knowledge is up to them.”
Cai thought back to the young man who had attempted to stand up to his father, recalling how he had tried to challenge him; maybe if he could get through to just one of them, he’d feel better.
“Hey.”
At the sound of Logan’s voice, Cai forced a smile as he looked up at his friend. “Hey,” he offered half-heartedly.
Logan knelt down, indicating over his left shoulder. “You seen this?”
Nearby, a group of men were engaged in battle but there was a real sense of camaraderie as they cheered each other on and offered advice where needed; just the sight of it reminded Cai of just how committed these men were.
He caught sight of Bedivere watching with approval, occasionally offering advice himself. Along from him, stood Aelwen; her attention, like Bedivere’s, was fixed on those fighting and Cai couldn’t help noticing how intently she watched. For the first time, she seemed alive and engaged in what was happening around her.
Logan nudged him, drawing his attention back. “Do you wanna…?” he asked, nodding towards the men. “We haven’t practised in a while; don’t want to get rusty do we?” He grinned.
Cai shrugged. “OK, then, come on.” He couldn’t help but smile at the prospect of sparring with Logan again. As Logan took his place opposite him, Cai drew Excalibur, gazing at the blade reverently.
“You ready?” Logan asked, expectantly, sword raised.
Cai nodded as he mirrored Logan’s position.
As they began to circle each other, Cai became aware of the other men gradually gathering to watch.
Logan grinned. “We have an audience,” he murmured.
Cai acknowledged Logan’s comment, not with words, but with action: moving forward he jabbed at Logan, feeling him out, whilst at the same time, re-acquainting himself to Excalibur’s weight.
As expected, Logan stepped back and easily deflected Cai’s efforts, retaliating almost immediately with his own.
With two hands, Cai brought his sword up to meet Logan’s and the blades met in mid-air, the clash of metal on metal resounding through the otherwise silent clearing. He was aware of the spectators’ murmurs of appreciation as they watched Excalibur in action but he soon pushed this from his mind when he noticed Logan’s demeanour change: gone was his laid back, showmanship attitude, replaced by a more focused intensity.
And it didn’t take long for the shift to affect the speed of the battle.
What followed was fast-paced and ferocious; each blow, more forceful than the last, was deflected and countered, with neither of them losing time or pace.
Sweat was soon running down Cai’s face; his muscles burned and strained with exertion. In need of a respite, he began looking for openings he could exploit. His chance came when Logan sliced his blade through the air towards Cai’s side; Cai blocked it, pushing Logan’s blade away while simultaneously twisting out of his reach. He stood panting, watching, as Logan regained his position.
“Nice one,” Logan remarked, swiping sweat from his forehead. He rolled his shoulders, loosening his knotted muscles.
Cai tried to swallow but his mouth was too dry. Suddenly, a water skin was thrust in front of his face; reaching out, he took it gratefully, looking back to thank whoever was offering it. He could only stare in disbelief as his eyes met Aelwen’s. Taking a sip of water, he relished the cool liquid as it revived his senses. Grinning, he handed the skin back. “Thanks,” he muttered.
Aelwen shrugged. “You look in need of water,” she replied, stating the obvious.
Cai watched her carefully as her gaze fell on Excalibur.
“It is a fine sword,” she acknowledged, awe evident in her voice.
“It was my father’s,” he explained before realising just how stupid that sounded: everyone knew of King Arthur’s sword. Colour rose in his cheeks as Aelwen brought her eyes up to meet his.
“I am aware of that; I have hea
rd the tales,” she stated.
They stood in awkward silence for a moment until Aelwen shoved him hard in the chest. Stumbling backwards, Cai found his footing just as he realised Logan was charging straight for him, his blade at the ready. Instinctively, Cai turned, deflecting the blade.
Anticipating this move, Logan was ready with his counter attack, forcing Cai into an awkward defensive position. With all the strength he could muster, Cai pushed Excalibur against Logan’s blade and managed to distance himself, gaining much needed space.
It took only a moment for Logan to resume his onslaught with Cai deflecting each blow whilst keeping a distance between them, knowing this was the key: never get yourself into a situation you can’t get out of.
At the first opportunity, Cai counter-attacked. He ignored the strain his body was under, telling himself he had to keep going for as long as possible; he knew that, with every minute, Logan tired just as much as he did.
Making eye contact, both boys knew neither of them would surrender; they would both battle on for as long as it took for one of them to make a mistake.
Fortunately for Cai, he didn’t have to wait long: with Logan on the defensive, he was able to force him back, Logan’s feet moving ever closer to a broken root rising from the ground. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough to cause Logan some trouble if he came into contact with it and would afford Cai time to, hopefully, finish this.
If he could just…
Maintaining eye contact until the very last moment and, without giving any indication of what was about to happen, Cai watched as Logan’s boot caught on the root.
The look of horror on Logan’s face, as he realised what was happening, almost made Cai laugh out loud.
Almost.
Instead, he watched as Logan lost his footing, the momentum of his movements sending him crashing to the ground. As his back hit the ground hard, he gasped in shock, losing his grip on his sword.
Cai kicked the sword out of Logan’s reach and, looming over his fallen friend, held the tip of Excalibur to Logan’s throat. “I guess I win this one, fair and square,” he quipped, referring to another fight they had shared which Cai had won by sheer luck.
