The Camelot Kids

by Ben Zackheim

  Once he felt her hands on his legs, Simon felt better. He struggled to his feet, grabbed Excalibur with much less fanfare than Chester had, and pulled.

  The sword didn’t move. Merlin moaned. He didn’t even have enough strength to hurl an insult.

  Gwen instinctively grabbed the sword and easily yanked it out of Merlin’s flesh.

  All four jaws in the room dropped. Gwen hurled the weapon to the ground. The famous sword lay there like an abandoned piece of junk as she threw her hands onto Merlin. Blood began to flow from his nose.

  Merlin’s eyes slowly lost their life. He only had a few seconds left. Simon was witnessing the death of a three thousand-year-old man. Barely a kind word had passed between them. But he was swept with sadness.

  The wizard’s eyes closed slowly, calmly. It was a peaceful death. Simon could feel the imposing presence of the wizard drift from the room.

  All that was left was a body.

  “No,” Gwen whispered. She abandoned her magic and started to pound on Merlin’s chest, like they do in the movies. But that only made more blood come out of Merlin’s nose. Simon put his hands on her shoulder. She stopped and began to cry.

  “I’m so tired,” she said. “I just need a few minutes of rest. I just need a few minutes.” She fell into Simon’s arms.

  Chester, meanwhile, was trying to lift Excalibur from the floor. The look of determination on his face was scary.

  “What are you doing, Chester?” Gwen asked, angry.

  “This can’t be Excalibur. It won’t let me lift it!” His grip slipped from the sword and he fell against the stone wall.

  “This man died and you’re worried about a sword?” Gwen yelled.

  “It’s Excalibur! If I don’t control it then everything falls apart!” He bent down and wiped off Merlin’s blood from the sharp tip with his shirt.

  With a surge of anger rolling through her, Gwen put her hands back on Merlin’s shoulder.

  All three vambraces glowed red, as if they’d been lit by dragon fire. Simon’s began to move. It quivered as he lifted it closer to his face. A thin slice of metal crept from the wrist and wrapped around his palm, weaving through his fingers like a snake. He made a fist and the vambrace’s smooth surface started to expand. It covered half of his arm.

  The old man coughed. Merlin’s eyes opened like he felt all the pain in the world in one moment. He let out a cry that even scared Chester from his stupor.

  Then Merlin’s scream transformed into a deep belly laugh. Simon had never heard a real laugh from the wizard. He’d heard condescending chuckles and judgmental guffaws, but this one was genuinely happy.

  And impressed.

  Merlin stood as fast as a man twenty-eight hundred years younger and embraced Gwen.

  “You have saved the most important man in history, young lady. Wonderful. Splendid! Now, pick up your sword and let’s go finish this, shall we?”

  Simon realized that his vambrace was back to normal. Maybe he’d imagined the whole thing?

  “Hold on! That’s my sword!” Chester was close to tears. Simon felt bad for him. Chester’s whole world revolved around being the boy who would be king. Without Excalibur, he knew he’d have little claim to the throne, and even less claim to respect. Merlin seemed to understand Chester’s pain too. He gently put a hand on Chester’s shoulder.

  “Tough luck, kid,” was all Merlin said, as he hobbled from the room.

  “I’m sorry, Chester,” Gwen said quietly. “I didn’t mean to…”But Chester was out the door before she could finish.

  Gwen and Simon stared at the weapon, not knowing what to do. It wasn’t very impressive at first sight. Its dusty blade was dull. The worn leather hilt showed no decoration, no jewels, just years of a strong hand’s tight grip.

  “Only you can…” Simon started, gesturing at the sword.

  Gwen awkwardly lifted it up. The sight of her holding Excalibur was like seeing a child holding a gun. It didn’t make sense.

  “You have a real impressive arsenal now,” he said, trying to lighten her mood a little.

  “Especially compared to the arsenal I had a few weeks ago.” Simon must have looked confused. “When I only had to worry about what makeup to bring along.” They laughed.

  “We, uh, we’d better catch up, right?”

  If they’d been paying attention they would have noticed that Red was no longer unconscious on the floor as they ran out of the room.

  When they caught up, Merlin was at the edge of the broken stairwell. He peered down at the sheer drop.

  “Where’s Chester?” Gwen asked, looking over her shoulder.

  “If he’s not with you then he’s probably found a dark corner to mope in,” Merlin said. He was trying to figure out the best spell to get them down the rest of the way.

  The wizard jumped. Simon and Gwen gasped. But Merlin hit the rubble below and bounced a few times, cackling with each bounce. The kids looked at each other, a little worried.

  “Go ahead! It’s fun!” Merlin called out. His staff rematerialized in his hand.

  Simon knew this was some kind of test. Against every intuition, he jumped. Hitting the floor was like hitting a trampoline. For all appearances, it was solid debris. But his butt told him otherwise. Finally his bounces got small enough that he could catch himself.

  “It is kind of fun!” But Simon immediately regretted enjoying himself, considering everything going on.

  He regretted it even more when he saw that Gwen was looking at something behind him, horrified.

  “What’s wrong?” He followed her stare. Caradoc was leaned up against a nearby wall. A huge shard of glass stuck from his stomach. The awkward angle of his chin on his chest was all Simon needed to know that his friend was gone.

  51

  Simon ran to him, wanting to scream, but unwilling to give Rukkush the pleasure if he was nearby. For there was no doubt in Simon’s mind… Merlin’s old apprentice would pay for this.

  Simon touched the troll’s face. It was cold. “Gwen!” he cried.

  But he didn’t need to ask. She was already at his side. The two of them pulled Caradoc from the wall. She placed her hands on Caradoc’s chest.

  “Don’t do it, Guinevere.” Merlin’s hand settled on her shoulder. She pulled away and tried to focus, exactly as she’d done for the wizard.

  Simon wanted to tell him to back off. But he saw the worried expression on Merlin’s face and realized he wasn’t just being his usual difficult self.

  “It’s dangerous to work your magic on the mortally wounded, much less the dead,” Merlin whispered.

  Simon noticed that the glow from Gwen’s hands was dimmer this time. Her face was not filled with the determination she’d had for Merlin. She was sweating profusely.

  Simon yanked her away. When she tried to resist, he held her close. She wept. He wanted to as well, but years of fighting back tears kept his eyes dry.

  There was no time to grieve. Simon faced the wizard, the last hope for New Camelot. “Merlin, we need to help our friends. We have to go now.”

  “I’m not ready to fight, boy. You must give me several minutes.” Merlin sat on a stone bench to gather his strength, leaning on his staff as if it were the only way he could stay upright. “I’m sorry for your loss, children,” Merlin said, nodding at Caradoc’s body. “He was a difficult creature, but he always had Simon’s safety at heart. It may have started as a job, but he truly grew fond of you.”

  “What do you mean? What job?” Simon asked. He could tell the wizard was leading him somewhere.

  “Caradoc’s job was to keep you safe. So ordered by his master,” Merlin said.

  “You?”

  “Me? My, no. His meeting you on the loch was no accident. I thought you would figure that out by now.”

  “Sorry to let you down again.” He resented all the coyness when his friend was lying dead at his feet.

  “Caradoc followed you for weeks before you arrived in New Camelot. I believe his charge was
twofold. Protect you from harm, and ensure you made it to New Camelot in one piece.”

  “Weeks? That’s not possible. I was in America a few...” Simon remembered the large figure he’d seen outside his window in New York City. Could that have been Caradoc? Had he used a Lazy to pop in and out of the city?

  “Who did Caradoc work for?” Simon asked.

  “Oh, come now. I know you must have met him by now. Or should I say, met him again for the first time? Put some effort into this, Simon,” Merlin teased some more.

  “My dad?”

  “Ah ha,” Merlin said with a loud clap. “So he did finally show himself to you. Good. Your father has been clever. I underestimated him. I’d been searching for the third vambrace for centuries. The last piece of Excalibur’s scabbard is a powerful piece of magic. Thadeus has had it for years, but he hid it well.”

  “That was him then. My dad left the vambrace for me in the park.”

  “On your fourteenth birthday, yes. The vambrace becomes a part of you after that. You must hand it over willingly for the scabbard to be rebuilt, resulting in immortality for the owner. As I told you, powerful magic.” Merlin tapped a foot on the ground, deep in thought as he spoke. Simon got the feeling that the wizard was hard at work piecing clues together, trying to figure out how they’d ended up there. “Caradoc did a brilliant job of keeping you safe for your father, while Maille, Professor Tillman, and Sister Alphonsus worked for me. It took all of them to deflect deadly forces away from you.”

  “Sister Alphonsus knew about all this?”

  “Oh yes, she kept you invisible for as long as she could. A tough task considering your inability to stay in one place and behave for two minutes. She was a kind and strong woman. But her death left you in a bit of a limbo. That large funeral of hers drew a lot of attention, including the wrong kind. I managed to keep you safe from a distance for a while, but my guess is you were days away from either being kidnapped or killed. If I hadn’t brokered a deal with that uncle of yours to take you in we probably wouldn’t be having this conversation. That castle of his is almost as well fortified as New Camelot.”

  “But Professor Tillman? What was he supposed to do to protect me?”

  “Ah yes. A true scholar he was. Not much brawn to speak of. In the end, however, he did give his life for you. From my investigation I believe he knew that the two of you weren’t alone in that room. Tell me, Simon, did he pick his nose before he died? Yes, your expression answers my question. That’s a rather odd, but necessary, step for a basic shield spell. I doubt he intentionally protected you since targeting the spell is next to impossible. He likely spotted the Tintagel assassin in the shadows and cast it as fast as he could. The dagger bounced off the shield and impaled him, poor chap. You’re lucky he was there. Mordred’s assassins rarely miss.”

  Simon felt a surge of guilt when one thought, out of the thousands churning in his brain, surfaced.

  Mordred.

  “But wait a minute,” Simon said. “If Red is Mordred, then he could have killed me himself.”

  “What short memories we have! Maille saved you from him outside your uncle’s house.”

  “But we were alone a lot. He had a hundred chances to take me down. And why would dad team up with someone who wanted to kill me?” His throat tightened and his ears burned. He was terrified of the answer.

  “Your father didn’t ally with him, you fool. He kept him close so he could keep an eye on him and protect you.”

  Simon struggled with all the information. Merlin smiled and sat down next to him. “This will clear things up for you. Tell me, Simon, when you fight, how do you feel?”

  Simon glanced over at Gwen and wondered how honest he should be. He didn’t want to sound bloodthirsty. “It doesn’t happen all the time, but it feels natural. I can do things I didn’t know I could do.”

  “That’s the Lancelot in you. It’s deeper than just family heritage for you and Mordred. You are both reincarnations. That can be... confusing if you don’t have guidance. And just as you can sometimes access Lancelot’s fighting skills, Red sometimes taps Mordred’s skills, emotions, and failings. You should not feel betrayed by him. He was a true friend. But he was a friend with an uncontrollable demon inside. Thadeus only allied with him once that demon came out entirely. I believe that happened after Red escaped my dungeon. But up to that point, your father did his best to keep you safe from harm, once news got out of Sister Alphonsus’ health problems.”

  “Yeah, he’s a real Dad of the Year.”

  Merlin’s eyes abandoned their typical frown and showed some sign of empathy. “He kept you safe both because you are his son and because you are bonded to the vambrace.”

  “But didn’t Red order the assassin to kill me and Arthur?”

  “No. The Tintagel Guard was running on commands they received centuries ago from the original Mordred. Now that Red has embraced his role, my hope is that the ancient orders from Mordred are done with and I can stop spending resources on watching over you.”

  “Sorry I’m such a drain,” Simon said sarcastically.

  “Apology accepted,” the wizard said without a trace of humor.

  “So all of this mess has been planned for centuries?”

  “The part where your father tries to bring about the prophecy is only as old as his misguided plan is. From the looks of it, he’s ready to watch the destruction of our home to achieve his goal.”

  “Why would he destroy what he wants to save?”

  “That has a complex answer,” Merlin said. Simon waited. “New Camelot is stone and flesh. But the prophecy that your father wants to accelerate brings to us a magic that means peace. Thadeus will sacrifice anything for such a prize. However, I’m afraid he’s nothing more than a small player in this plot.”

  “Trejure, Rukkush and Mordred are behind the attack then,” Gwen said.

  “No. No one alive is powerful enough to hide the vambrace, Excalibur and Red from me. And no one in history could hide this damned castle from me. It was likely built at the same time we built New Camelot, which means I’ve been blind to it for a thousand years. Hopefully, we can agree that that is impossible. I’m afraid that someone else has laid the groundwork for a bigger plan, one that has been in the works for centuries, to cause the destruction of all that Arthur and I have built. And don’t ask me who it is, because, as should be clear by now, I have no idea.”

  Simon’s head was reeling. It was so much to take in, but it was starting to come together. The hooded man in the forest, the one who shot the flaming arrow at him — it must have been his father. Was the flame meant to mark his place for Caradoc to find him in the trees? The question disappeared at the sight of Caradoc dead at his feet.

  “Why did Rukkush kill him?”

  “Rukkush is filled with rage. I cast the elf out as my apprentice a thousand years ago, and his thirst for revenge is intense. I believe he’ll kill anyone I’m fond of.”

  Besides being surprised that Merlin ad­mit­ted having affection for Caradoc, Simon was unconvinced.

  “Maybe he did it to hurt my dad.”

  “Hm. That could be, yes. Uneasy alliances all around. Perhaps now that he has the dragon king out of the way, he’ll be going after Thadeus next. And speaking of Thadeus, it looks like he’s won round one.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Simon.

  “The first part of the prophecy has come true. Excalibur has been reunited with its soul mate.” He glanced at Gwen. “Most curious.”

  “Who stabbed you?” Gwen asked, changing the subject. “Who else could even lift Excalibur?”

  “As I discovered in a battle with Trejure a few years ago, he did possess the sword so he must have had a way to carry it. But it appears the snake was too preoccupied with Rukkush to stab me.” Merlin gestured to the dragon’s corpse. “I wish I knew who attacked me, Guinevere. That would answer a lot of questions, wouldn’t it? I’m afraid I fell into a powerful trap by coming here. I was overcome by the combine
d forces working against me. Even I have my limits, when my enemies are willing to put aside their differences long enough to take me out. The last thing I remember before waking up with a sword in my shoulder is marching through the front doors of this cursed place. If I do find out who skewered me, I will also likely have found the wizard who hid this castle.”

  Simon was struck with guilt for not asking the most urgent question. He didn’t know how much longer Merlin needed to gather his strength, so he blurted it out.

  “Is my mother alive?”

  Merlin let out a grumble. Clearly, he didn’t want to answer.

  “I believe so. But I don’t know where she is. All the more reason to find the foe who hides so much from me.” Merlin let the silence linger. “Something else itches you, boy. Speak, quickly. I will be ready soon.”

  Simon pulled together the courage to ask what he didn’t want to ask. “Did my dad know that his plans to speed up the return of Arthur and Camelot would lead to... this?”

  “You mean war?”

  Simon felt tears coming, but he managed to say, “Yes.”

  “I only have my suspicions. You’ll have to fill me in on what I missed, but from what my spies told me, someone, apparently your father, planned to plant gold in New Camelot to strengthen a dragon attack. Gold in the proximity makes them ten times fiercer and that much more difficult to defeat in battle.”

  Simon’s stomach sank. “He did. My dad sold me seeds at the fair. He said they’d help me speak to my parents again. But they just grew into a tree of gold.”

  “Aha. A Spell of the Heart. Very potent. The stronger the desire you have, then the more gold you get. Yes, I’ll bet you made a treasure trove of a tree.”

  How could Simon have been in the proximity of his father so many times and not know? “I took the gold to Trejure,” Simon mumbled.

  Merlin jumped to his feet and laughed, twirled in circles and then rested his hands on his knees, out of breath. The joyful sound carried through the bleak castle, sending birds and bats scattering. Gwen appeared as horrified as Simon was. Once Merlin caught his breath he placed both hands on Simon’s shoulders and smiled. “Did you now? Oh my. Unexpected! Well done, Simon. Very, very good. I’m sure your move pulled him out of hiding, am I right?”