The Iron Sword

by J. M. Briggs

  Inwardly he flinched at his own train of thought, a bubble of guilt rising in his chest. He picked up his soda and took a drink, staring into the liquid rather than his fellow mages. Sarah’s face popped into his mind, her wide pretty smile, bright blue eyes and long brown hair fluttering around her face. He’d been shocked in high school when she’d agreed to go out with him. Geeks were more accepted now in mainstream culture, but in his eyes she’d been one of the most beautiful girls in school. Putting down his glass, Aiden pushed thoughts of Sarah away except a small mental note to set up another virtual date for later in the week. Maybe just talking to each other about school more often would help.

  “What do you think Aiden?” Nicki asked, her voice a little pointed and he knew he’d been caught.

  “Sorry Nicki, I was thinking about something else,” he admitted to his best friend.

  “Merlin and Morgana have already mentioned interactions with the Norse pantheon,” Alex informed Nicki, getting the conversation going again. “So at least some of them are real. Maybe that’s how it works. Some of the core gods are real and then humans add stories, creating more and expanding the pantheons and making stories to go along with them.”

  “Maybe,” Nicki agreed with a small nod. “Wouldn’t it be cool if Thor’s hammer was real?”

  In the corner of his eye, Aiden saw Arthur straighten up and his eyes gleam with interest. He frowned, but the look was gone and he simply looked interested in the theory. Bran chimed in about which sort of gods might be Old Ones and if they’d even have ‘domains’ or if stories would add those later. That, of course, got Alex going on stories and how they developed and changed as if they didn’t understand that being in Merlin’s King Arthur class. Still, Bran and Nicki let her go off on her tangent without any interruptions.

  “Guys,” Arthur interrupted a few minutes later. “I hate to break this up, but didn’t you guys say that you were helping to set up stuff for fencing club?”

  “Shit, what time is it?” Aiden hissed as he pulled out his phone. “Nicki we’ve got to go. It’s six twenty now.”

  “I’ll get your trays,” Alex offered as Nicki gulped down the last of her juice. “See you in a few.”

  “Yeah, you can help with the newbies this year,” Nicki announced, thumping the empty glass down on the table.

  “Maybe, but don’t count on it.”

  Before Nicki could come with a clever last word, Aiden grabbed her arm and tugged her towards the doorway. His dad should already be waiting at the old gym for set up. All the equipment had already been cleaned and sorted from its summer in storage, but they’d have to get the mats down and get the registration table set up.

  The old gym that the Fencing Club used wasn’t too far to go. This side of campus was fairly quiet with most classes finished, professors gone for the day and students all back at their dorms or at Michaels for dinner. Aiden welcomed the silence as he and Nicki walked along the sidewalk in comfortable silence. It was something that he was grateful for; with him at least Nicki never felt the need to fill the silence. They were together and comfortable with each other; it was one of the constants in his life that he greatly valued.

  A soft breeze was blowing the scent of the flowering trees in the arboretum through the campus. It wouldn’t be long before the last of the flowers were gone and it became too chilly for students to spend time outside. September was well underway and the days were already becoming shorter.

  “Have you given any thought to what you want to do for your birthday this year?” Aiden asked Nicki without looking at her.

  “Bit early to be thinking about it don’t you think?”

  “Well I was thinking that maybe we should celebrate it early this year, I mean October 30th… sadly we’re probably going to have something attacking us.”

  “Fair point,” Nicki conceded with a resigned sigh. “But let’s not worry about it just yet. I’ll let you know if I think of anything in particular, how’s that?”

  “Okay,” he agreed with a shrug. “Just wanted to bring it up.”

  “Don’t mention it to Alex just yet; she’s started stressing over Jenny’s birthday.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah her birthday is October 7th and apparently they’ve had a couple of civil conversations, but it is still awkward. Alex asked me if I thought getting her a present would be good or bad taste.”

  “Given her relationship with Arthur, I’m inclined to think it’s a bad idea,” Aiden remarked, tensing at the question with a slight hiss.

  “Yeah, but… I think that Alex misses her,” Nicki replied softly. “She really did care about Jenny, Lance too, but you remember how hard she was on herself last year trying to protect Jenny and Arthur. Alex really does care about Jenny.”

  “Maybe things will work out with them,” Aiden offered gently. “I mean I understand Jenny needing some space, but maybe by the end of the year she and Lance will have things worked out and she and Arthur will be okay.”

  “That would make Alex happy, but I doubt it will happen.”

  “Don’t be so negative, people can surprise you,” Aiden reminded her carefully, knowing this was shaky ground.

  “I know, but forgiving someone and giving them a second chance are two different things. I worry that Alex is too soft hearted and trusting sometimes.”

  “Then it’s good that she’s got us then,” Aiden countered with a cheerful smile, looking ahead at the old gym. “We’re a team that balances out each other’s weak points.”

  “Ah, Aiden, always ready with some words of wisdom from a comic book,” Nicki chuckled warmly.

  “Or games, don’t forget the games.”

  Their conversation was ended when a sudden crack of wood and the rustle of leaves in a nearby bush caught their attention. They both froze at the sound. Aiden felt his muscles tensing and bent his knees slightly, preparing himself for a fast movement. Next to him, he heard Nicki’s breathing became fainter. The cracking in the bushes continued and a strange scraping sound reached his ears. Aiden licked his dry lips and took a slow step towards the bushes, grateful when he heard Nicki follow him.

  A creature erupted from the bushes with a feline scream of alarm. The cat ran past them, its matted fur covered with twigs. It leapt over the sidewalk and vanished around the corner of the gym. A loud exhale escaped Aiden and he straightened up, shaking his head.

  “I thought-”

  “Me too,” Nicki said as she squeezed his arm. “We’ve all been a little on edge.”

  “We’re paranoid is what we are.”

  “It’s not paranoia if there is really something after you,” Nicki told him gently, tugging on his arm. “Come on. Let’s go gets things set up. One of us is going to need to work with Arthur. He’ll need to know at least the basics of using a sword.”

  “Unless he already knows it,” he heard himself grumble as they started up the gym stairs.

  “I don’t think his reincarnation works that way.”

  “Who was talking about reincarnation, he just seems to be good at everything. A bit annoying really.”

  “At least you don’t live with Alex; when she goes off on one of her ‘he’s my boyfriend now, I can’t believing he’s my boyfriend’ moments it’s a challenge not to roll your eyes.”

  “They’re in the honeymoon stage; I’m sure she’ll calm down in the future.” Aiden offered as he opened the door and tried to hide his smile at Nicki’s description of Alex.

  “If the Shadows don’t kill us first at least.”

  Aiden sighed and shook his head at Nicki as he followed her inside. She had a point, but did she really have to be so damn negative in her realism? Best friend or not, it got a bit irritating.

  12

  Fire Burning

  806 B.C.E. Salisbury Plains

  A tense stillness surrounded Arto and the others as they ate their evening meal. The roundhouse they’d been provided was dry and warm with a fire burning in the hearth. Their arrival in the villa
ge with news of more Riders having been destroyed had been met with cheers, but soon enough Morgana’s silence and pensive expression had dimmed the enthusiasm of both the villagers and their own party. Morgana’s insinuation of treason was hanging over Arto, like a stone around his neck, and the others had noticed. No one had asked, not even Luegáed.

  He knew that Morgana’s diplomatic abilities were wanting and she was suspicious by nature; her foster mother the Sídhe Queen had raised her as a weapon and to look down on humans. Arto feared that despite Morgana’s decision to cut her ties to the Sídhe and help protect the Iron Realm, his sister would never fully shed the burdens of her childhood. Then again, he mused as he looked into the fire, perhaps no one ever did.

  This village seemed no different than the many others he’d grown up visiting with Merlin. They all blurred together with names long forgotten. Even Gwenyvar’s village was a hazy memory, lacking anything significant to him except meeting her while he was there. It bothered him that he took so little from the places he’d been, but perhaps that was the burden he’d carry from his nomadic upbringing by Merlin.

  For a moment Arto wished that Medraut had come with them, before dismissing that idea. It was comforting to know that his cousin was back home and watching over things there. He’d only been away from Gwenyvar since their marriage began once before and it still felt uncomfortable. His fingers tightened around Cathanáil for a moment, a jolt of worry shooting through him for his wife and mother. But Medraut would keep them safe and plenty of warriors armed with iron had remained to guard the forges and the people. He was worrying for nothing. Besides, at times Medraut was more impatient, stubborn and harsh than even Morgana. His cousin was talented at saying the right things to people, he had diplomatic skills that Arto envied, but there were times when Medraut could be just as abrasive as Morgana. And right now he couldn’t have handled it.

  Sighing softly, Arto looked away from the flames and looked around the roundhouse at those gathered. Aileen was sitting near one of the four beds in the roundhouse on a mat of straw and blankets that would serve as his bed for the night and speaking in a low voice with Bradan. Drust and Maedoc were sharpening their iron swords with wicked smiles near the loom the owners of the roundhouse had left standing on the left side.

  Luegáed was sitting on his own, his back against the wooden shelves on the far side of the roundhouse. His sword was sheathed and leaning against his chest and he stared up towards the ceiling. Lifting his own eyes, Arto watched the smoke twist and turn in the air until it seeped out the small cracks of the grass covered roof. It was beautiful in a way and he felt his muscles easing slightly. He glanced towards Luegáed and blinked in surprise as he realized that the other warrior was watching him with a small smile. Arto’s lip curved up into a smile on their own accord and Arto nodded to Luegáed, urging his body to relax.

  He rolled his shoulders and turned his neck, stretching his muscles out carefully. A small sigh of relief escaped Arto and he looked back to the smoke, watching a wisp twist into a spiral for a moment. He fancied that in enough smoke perhaps he’d see some amazing landscape or event. It made him think back to the description Morgana had once given him of the white tunnels she’d grown up in, where images of great Sídhe stories appeared and played out on the walls. While most aspects the slavery and selfish society of the Sídhe revolted him, Arto could admit to himself that Morgana’s descriptions had sounded beautiful. He wondered if she ever missed the elegance of the Sídhe Court, the fine clothes or the pampering she enjoyed as the Queen’s favorite, but he’d never ask such a question.

  His eyelids were beginning to feel heavy and the lingering sense of being drained meant that he was already considering where in the roundhouse to curl up for the night. A glance towards his sister revealed her blinking her eyelids rapidly in an attempt to stay awake and Arto barely kept himself from chuckling and disturbing everyone.

  Cries of alarm cut through the silence and Arto felt every muscle in his body tense as he sprang into action. Grabbing Cathanáil, he was on his feet in a moment and heading for the doorway. Behind him, he could hear Merlin and Morgana ordering the others to grab their weapons. The shouting and screaming outside was too chaotic, he could understand nothing that was being said and could barely hear anything inside the house as the noise level increased.

  A sick feeling twisted in his stomach as Arto followed Luegáed from the roundhouse, nearly tripping over Aileen as they all sought to push their way out at once. Stumbling out into the cool night air, Arto gasped in alarm. The hillside was alight with flames, the trees burning brightly in the night and illuminating the darkness. He could hear the shouting in the village all around him and calls for water. Arto eyed the distance critically, it was over a mile between the outermost of the roundhouses and the edge of the forest, but fire could jump a great distance in the wind. As if answering his fears, a strong gust of wind ripped through the village, sending a chill up his arms and down his spine.

  The group moved forward as one, rushing up the hill through the unfortified village and towards the fire. Above them, the flames were spreading quickly and making the sky glow, the light illuminating the clouds with a fierce red color. Even at the distance, Arto could see the shadows of animals and birds seeking to escape the inferno. Flames licked up the tall trees, reaching into the sky and Arto felt the heat radiating all around them. Ashes and burning leaves fell to the ground, sparking the grasses below as cries of fear and horror rippled amongst the crowd.

  “Villagers back to your homes!” Merlin’s commanding voice shouted above the dim. “The Sídhe are at work! Morgana, Arto and I will take care of this, the rest of you guard the village!”

  “But-” Luegáed began to protest as he made a move towards him.

  “Don’t disobey!” Morgana snapped fiercely, her magic beginning to swirl down her arm.

  In the low light, Arto saw Luegáed’s eyes widen and the other young man nod nervously. He glanced towards him and Arto gave him a small nod and what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Luegáed spun on his heel, shouting to Bradan. Arto didn’t linger to see what the others would do and raced forward with Morgana and Merlin.

  They paused near the crest of the hill, keeping some distance between themselves and the flames, but the heat was almost unbearable. The shimmer of Morgana’s magic distracted him and Arto looked over to his sister. She had a look of concentration on her face and her eyes were closed tightly. In front of her, Morgana was swirling her hands over and under each other as the silver magic danced in a cloud around them. Her eyes snapped open; he saw her exhale before pushing her hands towards the fire. The magic surged forward and changed form so quickly that Arto couldn’t see the transition. A blast of water hit the nearest tree and carried over the ground, dousing a section of the flames.

  Merlin’s green magic illuminated his staff, creating a soft glow around the long length of wood that was brightest around his hand. His mentor raised the staff above his head and glared into the flames. The end of the staff crashed down against the earth and the green magic rushed down the staff and poured forth. Around them, the ground rumbled before the section in front of Merlin shifted forward in a wave of dirt and turf. It crashed into the burning grass and shrubs at the bases of the trees. The flames were buried in a rush of dirt, dimming and dying in an instant.

  They didn’t stop: Morgana kept throwing blasts of water towards the higher parts of the trees while wave after wave of dirt rushed through the forest floor. Arto looked around carefully, keeping his eyes open for any sign of danger and he glanced towards the village. More torches were visible and several outdoor fires were burning below which comforted him. Somehow he heard the growling over the cracking and groaning of the burning trees, the hiss of the flames being snuffed out with water and the thumps of earth being piled over the flames. Turning sharply to his right, Arto tensed as he caught sight of a Sídhe Hound moving along the edge of the flames.

  Grabbing Cathanáil’s hilt, Ar
to pulled the sword from its leather sheath with a smooth action and brought it in front of him, never taking his eyes off the Hound. It snarled at him, long and sharp teeth gleaming in the light of the fiery trees. There was another long howl from nearby, but Arto didn’t dare take his eyes off the first Hound. Swallowing, he shouted a warning to the others just as the Hound leapt towards him. He swung Cathanáil in front of him, slicing into the torso of the creature. It vanished in a flash of light, but snarling from his right made Arto tense and begin to turn. He moved the sword, stumbling when a body hit him in the chest. There was a flash of light and a pained cry as another hound vanished, Cathanáil sunk into its neck.

  His back hit the ground and his head slammed back against the rocky soil, his muscles twitching at the painful impact and darkness played at the edges of his vision. Arto felt Cathanáil slip from his hand and fumbled around blindly for the sword, his heart racing as another Hound snarled. He managed to raise his head only to see a flash of fur, teeth and gleaming violet eyes as the Hound launched at him. There was a blur of metal, a flash of light reflecting off a blade and the Hound screamed in pain. Arto heard a long whimper that faded away and blinked his eyes. He caught sight of the Hound dissolving into a cloud of gold.