6
Merlin felt miserable. He had been travelling at the back of the group trying to figure out why Arthur would not speak to him. He could just see his lover several yards in front, the others in between. The horses were all strung out along The Greenway, giving the scrawny youth some privacy. He remembered that they had a nasty argument back at Bree, but they had had rows before. He still felt justified telling his lover not to be so controlling and he felt a little angry about Arthur telling the others about his wounded shoulder. However, he wanted to snuggle up to the prat at night. He thought back to the first evening out of Trestlebridge; Arthur had stayed at the campfire with Gilladrin, Celimdol and Lance, not coming into the small tent Merlin had successfully erected without any help (well, he had a little help from Gwen, at the second attempt). Merlin missed having Arthur’s muscled arms around him, his lips pressed into his, his hard body spooning him, his massive…
“Merlin, would you mind if I rode next to you for a while?”
He was shaken from his reverie by Celimdol. The young, black haired elf looked stunning, as all elves did. However, Arthur was the only one for him. He shrugged his shoulders and swept his gaze over the rolling hills lush with grass.
“Fuck, this place is beautiful. The whole of Middle Earth is fucking…just takes my breath away.”
The elf blushed slightly as he always did when Merlin swore. “Yes, it is. Perhaps one day I could take you to northern Mirkwood or perhaps Lothlorien itself; there is beauty that surpasses even your words.”
“I’d like that,” and Merlin smiled, making the elf blush some more.
“My lord…Merlin, know that I have had some words with Prince Arthur. He loves you very much,” Merlin snorted at this and nearly missed the elf’s next whispered words, “As do I.”
Shit! “Look, Celimdol, I like you very much. You’re the closest I’ve got to anyone in this sort of dream. My father disappeared when I was young so I view you as the brother I’ve never had.”
Celimdol’s voice was still a whisper. He stared at his horse’s ears, not daring to look at Merlin. “I feel your loss. My father died within days of my birth, killed by goblins. Their leader, Manc, have sworn to kill all my family. There is only Cynan and myself now.” Something stirred in Merlin’s memory, of a time of cold and snow and a black bladed knife, but it slipped away. “I cannot help it, my lord, these feelings I have inside. I dream of you at night. I think you would be gentle. I have been used before, but not with love.” The young elf brought his head up and Merlin noticed his grey eyes glittered. “Forgive me Merlin.”
“Hey man, nothing to forgive.” He reached out and brushed a singe tear from Celimdol’s cheek and then rested a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll find someone, someday. Perhaps on my own world.”
Celimdol echoed Merlin’s smile. “Perhaps.”
“Celimdol!” Arthur shouted and Merlin snatched his hand back as if scalded. Shit!
“Coming, my lord,” answered the elf and he urged his horse forward.
Merlin wondered if Arthur saw the touch and would get the wrong idea. He had already shown his jealousy back in Bree. Shit! Shitpisswankjizfuck!
* * *
Arthur rode in front with Lance and Gilladrin had gone ahead to scout out the area. At first there was silence between the two until Arthur could stand it no longer. “Look, I want to say I was wrong to tell you to piss off. I was just being a knob.”
Lance smirked. “Nicely put and I accept your apology. Still doesn’t let you off the hook though; you and Merlin are acting like idiots.”
Arthur knew he was giving his famous glare. “Don’t start.”
Lance smirked again. “Come on, great leader; time for us to set up camp. It’s getting dark.”
They did and Merlin attempted to put up his own tent. Arthur was about to help out the hopeless idiot, but Gwen appeared and he sat back down at the fire Gilladrin had built. With the three females and Merlin asleep, the rest stared into the flames in companionable silence until Gilladrin started to sing softly in his own tongue. A wave of contentment and security came over Arthur and he wondered, not for the first time, if all elves had their own internal magic, whether they were even formed of it.
At the end of the song the older elf looked up into Arthurs face. He saw sadness in Gilladrin’s. “A simple lullaby that my mother sang to me under the eaves of Lothlorien. If only you could see my homeland, my lord; trunks of silver white and leaves that are a pale gold in Autumn. One day I would like to take you there and present you to the Lord and Lady. One day, if the Enemy’s hold over this land is broken.”
Arthur knew that he smiled with affection at the elf, the song that still ringed in his mind leaving a contented feeling in his chest. “One day, Gilladrin. One day me and Merlin will come back and visit all the people and beautiful places of this land. Merlin’s the geek and has read all the books and seen the films dozens of times, so I really don’t know what I’m talking about; but I believe this Enemy you mention has no chance up against the spirit you and everyone else I’ve met have shown.” Arthur felt foolish at his own words. Who am I to give encouragement to these people? Merlin may think all this is part of his dream, but these guys will still have to fight on when we have all gone back to our own world. He thought about Merlin once more and sighed. A residue of anger was still in him at his lover being prepared to use magic against him, but he so wanted to wrap his arms around the stupid idiot and fall asleep next to him.
Lance spoke up and shook Arthur from his thoughts. “Like you I could live here with Gwen. I agree with you about Merlin’s idea this is part of his dream; it’s wrong to think that. It’s real. The people and land are real and I so wish that I could stay and fight against this Shadow. Then I realise that there exists a fight on any world, a fight against wrong and injustice. A wrong that men, both low and high born, daily struggle against. It is for this reason that I will eventually leave. I may be a simple nurse back on Earth, but I can struggle. I can struggle in my own little way against our own Shadow that wants to overtake our planet.” Lance looked shocked at his own words. Arthur grinned, knowing that such moments overtook him too and that he did not know what he was saying. It was as if this land was bringing out their true selves.
“And my brother and I will visit Merlin’s world, for all its terrifying magic at people’s fingertips,” said Celimdol. “I so wish that my Lord Merlin could stay. He could help so much with our struggle. I wish he could be at my side forever.” The young elf then seem to realise what he was saying and looked down, a blush in his cheeks.
Arthur stiffened. “I’m going to see to Morrowdim,” he said and walked off into the gloom. He did not stop even when he heard Lance call out his name and Gilladrin speak furiously in his own tongue.
As he approached the horse it snickered and muzzled his face in comfort. “I’m an idiot aren’t I?”
The steed snorted what sounded like agreement to Arthur and he patted its back.
“Do I forgive Merlin? Fuck, I love him so much and miss him even more. I’ve only known him a couple of months but I can’t see my life without him. I don’t care what my meddling father thinks. He can go and stick his drug company up his arse for all I care.” Arthur rested his forehead against Morrowdim’s head. “I know father thinks I’m going through a faze, but Merlin has taken over my life. I can’t forgive him wanting to use magic against me, but I miss him so much. Like you know what I’m saying. You’re only a horse.”
The steed snickered once more and nudged his head against Arthur’s.
“Shit, you really do understand me!”
Morrowdim nodded his head once and then neighed at the approach of another.
“My lord Prince?” It was Celimdol and Arthur wished the young elf would just go away and leave him to his misery.
“My lord, I must apologise.”
Arthur turned on him in irritation. “For what?”
“For coming between you and Merlin. I never meant it to be so. I see the bond between you, but I cannot help my feelings. I cannot help for what I feel towards him.”
Arthur gritted his teeth and tried to reign in his anger. He failed. “Back off you bastard. Merlin’s mine.”
Celimdol took a step back in shock but then recovered and squared his shoulders. In a small voice he said “I love him.”
“Yeah? Well, I loved him first. I know we go and rescue your brother and all, but remember; in my eyes Merlin comes first and if that means everything else goes to pot then I don’t give a shit. Merlin. Comes. First. Got that?”
The elf’s face had so much hurt mixed with concern in his face that Arthur wanted to hug him as an adult would hold a child until all the pain would go away. Then he thought of his love for Merlin and he hardened his heart. “Come between me and my lover and we’re done.”
Celimdol shook his head slowly and backed off another step. “I say again that I do not want to come between you two. I only wished you to know where I stood. The Prince Arthur I knew before would understand. I thought you the same.”
“Well I’m not. The warning still stands. Back off.”
The elf breathed in deep and nodded once. “As you say my lord prince,” he said stiffly. “Know this, Arthur, despite your hate for me I will still lay my life down for you. My time is short for I have seen myself in the mists whilst travelling back to Arda. However, I love you, but I love Merlin more.”
Arthur saw red at the last words, ignoring the others. “Fuck off Celimdol. Just leave me alone.”
Celimdol’s face crumpled and Arthur felt as if he had just kicked a puppy. He went out to touch the young elf but he had already turned and walked back to the campfire.
“Shit! I’m being the dick here?” he said to Morrowdim. The horse snorted. “Yeah, thanks buddy.”
After another couple of minutes seething and feeling angry with him self, he went back to the camp, primarily to say sorry to the young elf. All he was met with was the fire for the others had retired for the night. Arthur sad down to brood on what had happened.
The next morning he was still in front with Lance at his side. His friend kept silent but Arthur knew he disapproved. The problem was that he knew that he was in the wrong. He should have treated the elf differently. Merlin had said that Celimdol was just a kid, about fourteen in human years, full of emotion and hormones. Arthur tried to think about how he had felt at that age and inwardly groaned. He looked back and was shocked to see Merlin rest his hand on the elf. They were both sharing a look that Arthur took to be of love.
“Celimdol!” he shouted before he knew what he was doing
”Coming, my lord,” said the point of his anger.
When the elf had brought his horse up to theirs he coldly said “Scout ahead. Gilladrin’s been too long. See what you can find.”
“At once my lord,” and Celimdol urged his horse forward.
“Too long Arthur?” said Lance when the elf had disappeared around a bend in the road. “An hour?”
“Shut up.” Arthur squashed the uncomfortable feeling in his heart. He looked back quickly at Merlin and thought he saw a guilty look in his lover’s face. Then the look became one of anger and Arthur turned back to the road before him.
I’m doing this for you, for us, you idiot, he thought. It did not make him feel any better.
At dusk they made camp. Before them was a fairly level land of scattered, dead trees. Arthur could see, in the distance, mounds that littered the landscape. It was not a wholesome scene but one that filled him with dread. The tents were erected and the camp fire burning brightly when they all huddled closely around the warmth. Morgana and Gwen retired early after some instruction from Myfanwy. Merlin avoided Arthurs’s gaze and the blonde hardened his heart once more. Why should he be the first to bridge the gap?
Gilladrin came and broke their silence. He loped into the camplight, breathing heavily. “Your path is a dangerous one, full of wargs and worse. Movement there is on the Fields of Fornost, of long buried ancient power.”
Myfanwy stirred from her reverie. Our path, brother? You do not trek with us?”
Gilladrin turned to Arthur and bowed his head. On looking up he had a determined look in his face. “I cannot follow you any further. I have heard news that the rangers of Esteldin are decamping and are about to move south. Such knowledge affects Trestlebridge, Bree and the Shire. The Brewers’ charge from Gandalph himself comes first.” He turned back to his sister. “The safety of Eriador must come first.”
Before Myfanwy could speak, Arthur felt words bubble up from inside him. “I don’t know who these rangers are, but you are right in one thing; the protection of the lands behind us comes first. We go on a quest to save one elf, but our charge is greater than that. Good luck mate.”
Myfanwy stared at her brother for a long time and the camp was silent, as if waiting for a storm. She then breathed out a long sigh and nodded once. “My lord prince is correct. May your road be straight and without hindrance my brother. Find out the plans of the Dunedain. But what of Celimdol? Did you not come across him in your travels? He went in search of you.”
Gilladrin looked troubled at her words and turned to Arthur once more. “No elf tracks did I spy on my travels. However he is resourceful for one so young.” The elf gathered up his belongings and bowed to them all. “May the stars guide your way to better times. I hope to see you all again soon.”
He was just about to leave when Arthur stood and shouted out his name. The elf turned, a half smile on his lips.
“Er, thanks Gilladrin, for everything.”
The elf smiled openly and clasped the blonde’s forearm, warrior to warrior. “Thanks to you, most noble prince, for restoring my faith in the hearts of Man.” Gilladrin nodded to them all and disappeared into the night.
Arthur breathed a forlorn sigh. He had not realised how the elf had touched his soul. A kindred sprit and he missed him already. He turned to his lover and caught Merlin smile at him before it turned into a scowl.
“If anything happens to Celimdol_”
His words were interrupted by a scream of terror from Morgana’s tent and they all rushed over to it. She emerged with Gwen giving her support. “Celimdol. There is a blade over his neck, I’ve dreamt it. A blade and something dark wielding it.” She shivered.
“This is your fault. You and your stupid jealousies. You fucking prick.” Merlin had come up to Arthur, inches away. Instinctively the blonde went to wrap his arms around the scrawny youth, but his lover shrugged out of the way, glaring hatefully. Arthur had never felt so alone.
“Be at peace my Brewers. Lord Lance, my lord Prince Arthur; go and follow the road into the Fields of Fornost and search for any sign of our lost Brewer. Do not stray too far from the track for it may be your undoing. We who are left will break camp and follow as quickly as we can.”
Arthur made to go towards Merlin but Myfanwy stopped him. “Time is of the essence, my lord.”
It was not a sharp rebuke, but the blonde felt that it was his entire fault anyway. Why did he send Celimdol away? Because of his anger? He and Lance left the mounts behind and travelled on foot into the ruined landscape, drawing their swords instinctively. Arthur gave fleeting glances towards the dark knight, but even his friend did not look at him.
Arthur left the road and searched to the east, not keeping the broken flagstones that was the Great North Road out of his sight. Lance did the same but to the west. Mist swirled around his feet and he thought of calling out the lost elf’s name, but thought better of it. To get a better view of the gloomy landscape, he went to the top of a small mound of stone and coarse grass. He looked round and saw only low lying mist and mounds similar to the one he stood on like islands in a grey sea. He kicked at a stone in frustration. “Celimdol, where are you?”
The first thing Arthur noticed was a whisper of a snigger. Then his whole world changed as a hole opened up under his feet and he plunged into darkness.
He did not know how long he had lain in the dark, but, on waking up, he immediately checked for damage. He found no broken bones but only a few bruises and a bruised ego.
Arthur could just make out a low passage way of stone before him and, picking up his shield and unsheathing his sword, he gingerly went forward. It sloped down for a while until it came out into a small circular room. This held two stone coffins on either side a throne of bone between them. Celimdol was laid out as if dead on one of the sarcophagi, his hands were clasped together on his chest and Arthur noticed his skin was pale and that there was no movement of his chest. What stopped the blonde from dashing forward was the skeleton on the throne. It wore dusty chain mail and held a long sword at the elf’s neck. Its bones glowed with an eerie green light and slowly pulsated, matching the pulse coming from a green gem at the skull’s brow.
“Leave him, boney.”
The skeleton stood and Arthur heard the whispering snigger again. “A far better prince than this elf princeling. I hunger for life.” Without any further warning the creature launched a series of blows. The first shattered Arthur’s shield and he felt his arm go numb for a few seconds. The second sliced through his chain like a hot knife through butter and the blonde knew that his own flesh underneath was also sliced open. He fought against the sting of pain and parried the next blow with his sword, wielding it two handed. The sword snapped and a chuckle came from the skeleton.
“Too easy a challenge, Prince of Camelot.”
Arthur sighed in irritation. “I’ve had those jokes throughout my life. I don’t like it.” He smashed the broken sword into the skull with all his strength, aiming for the green gem. It shattered and, with a scream of outrage, the skeleton collapsed into a pile of bones.
Arthur rushed over to the still Celimdol and felt for a pulse in the way that he had seen Lance and Gwen do. He found one and sighed with relief. Before trying to find a way out he pulled his chain and leather vest off to inspect his wound. Thankfully it was only a scratch that could be tended to later. He put the vest back on but his mail was now useless. Arthur looked towards the pile of bones and shrugged.
“You won’t need that I suppose.” He shook his new mail of bones and dust and marvelled at the chain. It seemed to be made of silver and felt as light and as soft as cloth. When he pulled it on it was a perfect fit, coming down to the top of his thighs. Arthur picked up the creature’s sword and marvelled at that also. It was slightly longer than his broken longsword and the grip seemed to be made for two hands or one. The blade glowed with a faint white light (he would later find out that it always did so when the undead were around) and had strange writing on both sides. He looked around for a scabbard, but only found decaying leather.
A stir from Celimdol brought Arthur back to the elf. “You okay?” he said in a whisper.
Grey eyes met his blue. “My lord. I…I felt a great shadow and the mists were all around. I thought I would die for I saw my face in such mists on our way to Arda.”
Arthur smiled and brushed the hair from the young elf’s brow. “Those faces lie. Remember my mother? It was all a lie. Can you get up? We need to get out of here.”
Celimdol nodded and, with Arthur’s help, he shakily stood. He looked in wonder at Arthur and smiled in thanks. “You came to rescue me.” It was a simple fact but spoken with emotion and awe.
Arthur felt embarrassed. “Nothing really. It was all my fault anyway.”
The elf shook his head and then gingerly touched the silver chain. “Mithril,” he said quietly. “As light as cotton but as hard as dragon scales, royal attire for a worthy prince. The blade I know not of, only that it is elven forged. The elf runes are the same on both sides and mean “Gilgalad” meaning “Starlight”. Myfanwy might know more about the blade.”
“I’m only borrowing them.”
“Nay my lord, you have earned the right to bear them.”
They both stood silently for a while and Arthur did not know what to say next. He cleared his throat. “Look, I was a bit stupid and jealous and said some nasty things. My temper gets the better of me sometimes. Sorry.”
Celimdol smiled and placed his hand on the blonde’s arm. “I would not come between you and I have been pondering on what Merlin has said. Perhaps there is another love for me out there somewhere. Perhaps on your own world?” He laughed nervously and Arthur laughed in relief with him.
“You are welcome to stay for as long as you like. At my place, that is, not Morgana’s,” he said, thinking that it would be better that the elf was not around Merlin too long without him to keep an eye on things.
The elf shuddered and then laughed again. “You are correct, Arthur. Your sister scares me somewhat.”
“Don’t tell her this, but she sometimes scares me as well,” Arthur said wryly and looked about the small room. “Time to get out and find Lance. Let’s go back to the hole I fell through and see if that’s an option.”
With a light from the sword guiding them, they made off up the passage way.
* * *
They road north and Merlin led Arthur’s horse behind his while Gwen did the same with Lance’s and the mule. Low lying mist was everywhere and, from the road, he could see mounds of earth and stone that looked like the barrows of his homeland. Houses of the dead.
Merlin shivered and not only from the chill in the air. The waning moon and the stars gave a little light, but they gave no comfort in the foreboding Fields of Fornost. Myfanwy had said that the area was once a site of a great battle between an alliance of elves and men against the forces of Angmar. The Witchking had already taken the capital of Arthedain, she had told them, but his military power had been broken that day. She feared that Angmar, many centuries later, was rebuilding its might under the orders of the Witchking’s master, Sauron.
A gloom of despairing silence came over the little group until Myfanwy stopped her steed and held her staff high.
“Come not near, shadow of the Necromancer, wraith of Carn Dum.” From her staff’s emerald she threw a globe of silver light into the air and got off her mount and the others followed her lead. Morrowdim, without instruction, led the horses back down the road and to safety.
Merlin peered into the gloom and at first saw nothing. Then, gliding down the road from the north, a tall figure in a cowled robe of red could be seen. The youth immediately felt a wave of fear come over him and he knew that it was also affecting most of his friends.
“My Brewers, do not fear this evil. Firm up your hearts and do not falter. This wraith is but a cargul, a slave of shadow. Look,” Myfanwy pointed to one side, “Lord Lance joins us.”
Lance made his way to the lore master’s side and drew out his sword. He steadied his shield before him. “What in the name_.” He was cut off as the cargul opened its arms as if an embrace and screamed into the silent night.
Even Myfanwy covered her ears this time and Merlin went over to her, doing the same. When the screaming stopped, the youth started to hear scratching sounds come from all about them. Glancing around, he saw skeletons armed with short swords pull themselves up from the ground.
“Mortals from outside this sphere,” Merlin heard in his head, a hissing whisper and fear coiled about in his belly. “Do not protect this daughter of Lothlorien. Her time has come. Where is your fellow lore master to protect you, elf witch? Where are your brothers? Where is your lover?”
Merlin gritted his teeth and felt the familiar throbbing in his head. His vision took on a golden hue. “She doesn’t need them, ball sack. She’s got me.” The youth concentrated and stones of all sizes in about a hundred yards radius started to lift and hover a few feet off the ground.
“Merlin, there must be over a thousand stones here. How can you do it?” asked Gwen in a hushed voice.
Merlin ignored her as sweat trickled down his cheek. The stones started to heat up and burn white hot.
“Fool,” said the shadowy voice in his head. “Mere rocks cannot harm me.”
“No? Anyway, they aren’t really for you, piss-shit.” As Morgana shouted for them to get down and Lance grabbed Merlin by the shoulders to drag him to the broken road, the stones started to hurl themselves at the skeletons. Each one shattered as a stone hit, but the boulders did not stop there. They increased speed and headed straight for the cargul.
It screamed its annoyance and the stones turned to grey powder before they even hit it. “Your power is great, but you handle it like a toy. I will take great pleasure in sucking your soul out of you.”
Merlin retched onto the ground and he felt tired, drained of power. He saw his friends stand and ready themselves as the cargul glided forward.
“If anyone’s going to do any sucking on that idiot, then it’s going to be me!”
Merlin smiled at Arthur’s voice and looked up. What he saw took his breath away. His lover was clad in silver chain mail and was wielding what seemed to be a bastard sword of light (Merlin knew what type of sword it was from his Dungeons and Dragons nights).
The cargul hissed and seemed to shrink away, but Arthur had only just begun. The blond jumped up from a small mound in the ground and struck the creature in a two handed blow. With one last screech of despair, the red robes fluttered down to the road and the fear that had been pervading the area dissipated.
Arthur helped Celimdol from his hiding place as Merlin got groggily to his feet. The elf had an arm around the blonde’s neck and was smiling with pride at them all. Myfanwy let the light globe fade and she went to them both, as they all did. Merlin stayed a few steps behind, unsure what reaction he would get from Arthur.
“A royal coat of mithril and the sword Gilgalad. My Lord Cynan too had a legendary weapon, a spear he named Ethuil, which means the season of Spring in our tongue. He named it for the hope it would bring in these days of shadow. Though now broken, he named it well, as a portend perhaps? For surely his naming was in the honour of your coming, my lord Arthur, Prince of Hope.”
Arthur furiously blushed and Merlin ached to go to him, but still held back. He was unsure of the reception he would get.
Myfanwy turned to him. “And now, my friend Merlin, tell me this; did Cynan in your dreams travel further north to the ruins of Fornost?”
“Erm, no, no he didn’t. He went that way to a lake and a drowned city and a little island, I think.” He waved his hand roughly westwards.
Myfanwy nodded and thought a while. “The city is one much older than Fornost, of a kingdom older than Arthedain. It is called Annúminas and was the capital city of a greater kingdom that covered much of Eriador; Arnor of over a thousand years ago. My elder brother Aneirin would speak of it fondly.” She squared her shoulders and looked at them each in turn. “Though the Witchking searches many leagues to the south doing his master’s bidding, he has surely laid a trap for us at Lake Evendim. The hour is late, this I know, but such flower of youth should not be so squandered in my selfishness. This quest for my lover is my own. I can send you back using the drawings my Lord Merlin has done on our journey north, though he thinks I know it not.” Merlin’s ears burned, but one smile from the elf relaxed him. “I shall do it now for all of you, even Celimdol, for his heart will not reside in Arda for some time to come; of this I have seen.”
They began to protest, but Morgana’s voice cut above the rest. “We are Brewers. We don’t abandon our own!”
The elf maiden’s shoulders sagged and tears came to her eyes. “Blessed am I to live to see the heart of Man show its true strength.”
They were interrupted by Morrowdim leading the other mounts back. The grey horse went straight to Arthur and licked his face. The blonde laughed. “I missed you too.”
Merlin shuffled his feet shyly and cleared his throat. “Did…did you miss me also?”
Arthur looked straight at his face and Merlin felt his knees shake. “Come here you idiot,” and his lover wrapped him in his arms and planted a wet kiss on him.
“I’m sorry for being angry. I would never use magic on you and Celimdol and me are just friends, brothers really. Fucking hell! I can’t be without you, you know that, right?” he said as he came up for air.
Arthur tightened his grip and kissed him on his cheeks and forehead. “You’re mine and always will be.”
“About time,” said Gwen. “Now let’s make camp. I’m not travelling through this land in the dark!”
They laughed. They set up camp. Merlin and Arthur shared a tent.
* * *
He dreams…
Anharadeth reigned in her horse, the village of Trestlebridge before her. Behind her are five wardens and twice as many of the Bree Watch. She looks tired and her blue dress and cloak are stained with travel.
“Do we press on my lady?” asks Aneirin. He jumps down before going to help her. She waves his efforts away with irritation and the dreamer notices the hurt look on the warriors face before it is replaced with one of stone.
“The horses are tired my lord, would you have them run into the ground? We stay the night.”
“Good,” says Bjalar, jumping down from his pony. “I have a thirst that needs to be quenched.”
The lore master turns and orders the troops behind her to set up camp. She then goes to see about the village defences. It is long into the night before Aneirin persuades her to retire.
He dreams…
Cynan is in a cage of iron, small enough that the elf cannot stand.
A large man with a broken nose, that the dreamer has seen before, laughs. “I’ve fucked this one but he’s mad. What I want is to fuck his brother and that youth with the cheekbones, the one I met in the Forsaken Inn. They will not be sold. They are mine. You can kill or do whatever you want with the others.”
His men laugh harshly and the dreamer flees the scene.
He dreams…
“Dammit Merlin! I said take the bracelet off when you had bunny sex with Blondie.” The voice is in his head and the dreamer laughs.
* * *
Bedwyr stirred from his slumber. Another was at the standing stones. He rose up from the ground and the mist congealed into his solid form. The man was about thirty. When he whirled around in alarm, he saw that the human needed a shave, but was physically fit and not the usual inhabitant of this land.
“Who are you? Where did you come from?”
Bedwyr sighed with impatience. “Your name,” he said with a commanding voice.
“Gawain McKenna of the tribe of Hermes, Forest of Dean.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Our shaman said that I would find myself, find my true love and that I would go on a long journey.”
Bedwyr thought on this and his eyes narrowed. “What are you?”
“Lupine.”
The ancient warrior gave a growl of annoyance. He knew there was a tribe of wolf runners in the northern half of Wales and he had heard rumours of some in Scotland and Cumbria and that lone wolves travelled throughout the isles. He decided that he should travel more and find out about the spread of supernaturals. He released the human.
Gawain’s face creased in anger. “Don’t try and command me again, leach. I don’t need the full moon to transform. Who are you?”
The warrior looked at him with disdain. “Bedwyr ap Bedrawt.”
Gawain gaped. “The Protector of Wales? I’ve heard stories about you. One of the few leaches, er, I mean, vampires, to run with us.”
Bedwyr snorted a laugh. “Such titles have no meaning for me. I am here to wait for the return of travellers. I was to kill one of them.”
Gawain’s face hardened. “I’ll wait with you,” and he sat on his haunches.
The ancient warrior shrugged his shoulders and did the same. He faced the wolf runner. It was going to be a long night.
Merlin felt miserable. He had been travelling at the back of the group trying to figure out why Arthur would not speak to him. He could just see his lover several yards in front, the others in between. The horses were all strung out along The Greenway, giving the scrawny youth some privacy. He remembered that they had a nasty argument back at Bree, but they had had rows before. He still felt justified telling his lover not to be so controlling and he felt a little angry about Arthur telling the others about his wounded shoulder. However, he wanted to snuggle up to the prat at night. He thought back to the first evening out of Trestlebridge; Arthur had stayed at the campfire with Gilladrin, Celimdol and Lance, not coming into the small tent Merlin had successfully erected without any help (well, he had a little help from Gwen, at the second attempt). Merlin missed having Arthur’s muscled arms around him, his lips pressed into his, his hard body spooning him, his massive…
“Merlin, would you mind if I rode next to you for a while?”
He was shaken from his reverie by Celimdol. The young, black haired elf looked stunning, as all elves did. However, Arthur was the only one for him. He shrugged his shoulders and swept his gaze over the rolling hills lush with grass.
“Fuck, this place is beautiful. The whole of Middle Earth is fucking…just takes my breath away.”
The elf blushed slightly as he always did when Merlin swore. “Yes, it is. Perhaps one day I could take you to northern Mirkwood or perhaps Lothlorien itself; there is beauty that surpasses even your words.”
“I’d like that,” and Merlin smiled, making the elf blush some more.
“My lord…Merlin, know that I have had some words with Prince Arthur. He loves you very much,” Merlin snorted at this and nearly missed the elf’s next whispered words, “As do I.”
Shit! “Look, Celimdol, I like you very much. You’re the closest I’ve got to anyone in this sort of dream. My father disappeared when I was young so I view you as the brother I’ve never had.”
Celimdol’s voice was still a whisper. He stared at his horse’s ears, not daring to look at Merlin. “I feel your loss. My father died within days of my birth, killed by goblins. Their leader, Manc, have sworn to kill all my family. There is only Cynan and myself now.” Something stirred in Merlin’s memory, of a time of cold and snow and a black bladed knife, but it slipped away. “I cannot help it, my lord, these feelings I have inside. I dream of you at night. I think you would be gentle. I have been used before, but not with love.” The young elf brought his head up and Merlin noticed his grey eyes glittered. “Forgive me Merlin.”
“Hey man, nothing to forgive.” He reached out and brushed a singe tear from Celimdol’s cheek and then rested a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll find someone, someday. Perhaps on my own world.”
Celimdol echoed Merlin’s smile. “Perhaps.”
“Celimdol!” Arthur shouted and Merlin snatched his hand back as if scalded. Shit!
“Coming, my lord,” answered the elf and he urged his horse forward.
Merlin wondered if Arthur saw the touch and would get the wrong idea. He had already shown his jealousy back in Bree. Shit! Shitpisswankjizfuck!
* * *
Arthur rode in front with Lance and Gilladrin had gone ahead to scout out the area. At first there was silence between the two until Arthur could stand it no longer. “Look, I want to say I was wrong to tell you to piss off. I was just being a knob.”
Lance smirked. “Nicely put and I accept your apology. Still doesn’t let you off the hook though; you and Merlin are acting like idiots.”
Arthur knew he was giving his famous glare. “Don’t start.”
Lance smirked again. “Come on, great leader; time for us to set up camp. It’s getting dark.”
They did and Merlin attempted to put up his own tent. Arthur was about to help out the hopeless idiot, but Gwen appeared and he sat back down at the fire Gilladrin had built. With the three females and Merlin asleep, the rest stared into the flames in companionable silence until Gilladrin started to sing softly in his own tongue. A wave of contentment and security came over Arthur and he wondered, not for the first time, if all elves had their own internal magic, whether they were even formed of it.
At the end of the song the older elf looked up into Arthurs face. He saw sadness in Gilladrin’s. “A simple lullaby that my mother sang to me under the eaves of Lothlorien. If only you could see my homeland, my lord; trunks of silver white and leaves that are a pale gold in Autumn. One day I would like to take you there and present you to the Lord and Lady. One day, if the Enemy’s hold over this land is broken.”
Arthur knew that he smiled with affection at the elf, the song that still ringed in his mind leaving a contented feeling in his chest. “One day, Gilladrin. One day me and Merlin will come back and visit all the people and beautiful places of this land. Merlin’s the geek and has read all the books and seen the films dozens of times, so I really don’t know what I’m talking about; but I believe this Enemy you mention has no chance up against the spirit you and everyone else I’ve met have shown.” Arthur felt foolish at his own words. Who am I to give encouragement to these people? Merlin may think all this is part of his dream, but these guys will still have to fight on when we have all gone back to our own world. He thought about Merlin once more and sighed. A residue of anger was still in him at his lover being prepared to use magic against him, but he so wanted to wrap his arms around the stupid idiot and fall asleep next to him.
Lance spoke up and shook Arthur from his thoughts. “Like you I could live here with Gwen. I agree with you about Merlin’s idea this is part of his dream; it’s wrong to think that. It’s real. The people and land are real and I so wish that I could stay and fight against this Shadow. Then I realise that there exists a fight on any world, a fight against wrong and injustice. A wrong that men, both low and high born, daily struggle against. It is for this reason that I will eventually leave. I may be a simple nurse back on Earth, but I can struggle. I can struggle in my own little way against our own Shadow that wants to overtake our planet.” Lance looked shocked at his own words. Arthur grinned, knowing that such moments overtook him too and that he did not know what he was saying. It was as if this land was bringing out their true selves.
“And my brother and I will visit Merlin’s world, for all its terrifying magic at people’s fingertips,” said Celimdol. “I so wish that my Lord Merlin could stay. He could help so much with our struggle. I wish he could be at my side forever.” The young elf then seem to realise what he was saying and looked down, a blush in his cheeks.
Arthur stiffened. “I’m going to see to Morrowdim,” he said and walked off into the gloom. He did not stop even when he heard Lance call out his name and Gilladrin speak furiously in his own tongue.
As he approached the horse it snickered and muzzled his face in comfort. “I’m an idiot aren’t I?”
The steed snorted what sounded like agreement to Arthur and he patted its back.
“Do I forgive Merlin? Fuck, I love him so much and miss him even more. I’ve only known him a couple of months but I can’t see my life without him. I don’t care what my meddling father thinks. He can go and stick his drug company up his arse for all I care.” Arthur rested his forehead against Morrowdim’s head. “I know father thinks I’m going through a faze, but Merlin has taken over my life. I can’t forgive him wanting to use magic against me, but I miss him so much. Like you know what I’m saying. You’re only a horse.”
The steed snickered once more and nudged his head against Arthur’s.
“Shit, you really do understand me!”
Morrowdim nodded his head once and then neighed at the approach of another.
“My lord Prince?” It was Celimdol and Arthur wished the young elf would just go away and leave him to his misery.
“My lord, I must apologise.”
Arthur turned on him in irritation. “For what?”
“For coming between you and Merlin. I never meant it to be so. I see the bond between you, but I cannot help my feelings. I cannot help for what I feel towards him.”
Arthur gritted his teeth and tried to reign in his anger. He failed. “Back off you bastard. Merlin’s mine.”
Celimdol took a step back in shock but then recovered and squared his shoulders. In a small voice he said “I love him.”
“Yeah? Well, I loved him first. I know we go and rescue your brother and all, but remember; in my eyes Merlin comes first and if that means everything else goes to pot then I don’t give a shit. Merlin. Comes. First. Got that?”
The elf’s face had so much hurt mixed with concern in his face that Arthur wanted to hug him as an adult would hold a child until all the pain would go away. Then he thought of his love for Merlin and he hardened his heart. “Come between me and my lover and we’re done.”
Celimdol shook his head slowly and backed off another step. “I say again that I do not want to come between you two. I only wished you to know where I stood. The Prince Arthur I knew before would understand. I thought you the same.”
“Well I’m not. The warning still stands. Back off.”
The elf breathed in deep and nodded once. “As you say my lord prince,” he said stiffly. “Know this, Arthur, despite your hate for me I will still lay my life down for you. My time is short for I have seen myself in the mists whilst travelling back to Arda. However, I love you, but I love Merlin more.”
Arthur saw red at the last words, ignoring the others. “Fuck off Celimdol. Just leave me alone.”
Celimdol’s face crumpled and Arthur felt as if he had just kicked a puppy. He went out to touch the young elf but he had already turned and walked back to the campfire.
“Shit! I’m being the dick here?” he said to Morrowdim. The horse snorted. “Yeah, thanks buddy.”
After another couple of minutes seething and feeling angry with him self, he went back to the camp, primarily to say sorry to the young elf. All he was met with was the fire for the others had retired for the night. Arthur sad down to brood on what had happened.
The next morning he was still in front with Lance at his side. His friend kept silent but Arthur knew he disapproved. The problem was that he knew that he was in the wrong. He should have treated the elf differently. Merlin had said that Celimdol was just a kid, about fourteen in human years, full of emotion and hormones. Arthur tried to think about how he had felt at that age and inwardly groaned. He looked back and was shocked to see Merlin rest his hand on the elf. They were both sharing a look that Arthur took to be of love.
“Celimdol!” he shouted before he knew what he was doing
”Coming, my lord,” said the point of his anger.
When the elf had brought his horse up to theirs he coldly said “Scout ahead. Gilladrin’s been too long. See what you can find.”
“At once my lord,” and Celimdol urged his horse forward.
“Too long Arthur?” said Lance when the elf had disappeared around a bend in the road. “An hour?”
“Shut up.” Arthur squashed the uncomfortable feeling in his heart. He looked back quickly at Merlin and thought he saw a guilty look in his lover’s face. Then the look became one of anger and Arthur turned back to the road before him.
I’m doing this for you, for us, you idiot, he thought. It did not make him feel any better.
At dusk they made camp. Before them was a fairly level land of scattered, dead trees. Arthur could see, in the distance, mounds that littered the landscape. It was not a wholesome scene but one that filled him with dread. The tents were erected and the camp fire burning brightly when they all huddled closely around the warmth. Morgana and Gwen retired early after some instruction from Myfanwy. Merlin avoided Arthurs’s gaze and the blonde hardened his heart once more. Why should he be the first to bridge the gap?
Gilladrin came and broke their silence. He loped into the camplight, breathing heavily. “Your path is a dangerous one, full of wargs and worse. Movement there is on the Fields of Fornost, of long buried ancient power.”
Myfanwy stirred from her reverie. Our path, brother? You do not trek with us?”
Gilladrin turned to Arthur and bowed his head. On looking up he had a determined look in his face. “I cannot follow you any further. I have heard news that the rangers of Esteldin are decamping and are about to move south. Such knowledge affects Trestlebridge, Bree and the Shire. The Brewers’ charge from Gandalph himself comes first.” He turned back to his sister. “The safety of Eriador must come first.”
Before Myfanwy could speak, Arthur felt words bubble up from inside him. “I don’t know who these rangers are, but you are right in one thing; the protection of the lands behind us comes first. We go on a quest to save one elf, but our charge is greater than that. Good luck mate.”
Myfanwy stared at her brother for a long time and the camp was silent, as if waiting for a storm. She then breathed out a long sigh and nodded once. “My lord prince is correct. May your road be straight and without hindrance my brother. Find out the plans of the Dunedain. But what of Celimdol? Did you not come across him in your travels? He went in search of you.”
Gilladrin looked troubled at her words and turned to Arthur once more. “No elf tracks did I spy on my travels. However he is resourceful for one so young.” The elf gathered up his belongings and bowed to them all. “May the stars guide your way to better times. I hope to see you all again soon.”
He was just about to leave when Arthur stood and shouted out his name. The elf turned, a half smile on his lips.
“Er, thanks Gilladrin, for everything.”
The elf smiled openly and clasped the blonde’s forearm, warrior to warrior. “Thanks to you, most noble prince, for restoring my faith in the hearts of Man.” Gilladrin nodded to them all and disappeared into the night.
Arthur breathed a forlorn sigh. He had not realised how the elf had touched his soul. A kindred sprit and he missed him already. He turned to his lover and caught Merlin smile at him before it turned into a scowl.
“If anything happens to Celimdol_”
His words were interrupted by a scream of terror from Morgana’s tent and they all rushed over to it. She emerged with Gwen giving her support. “Celimdol. There is a blade over his neck, I’ve dreamt it. A blade and something dark wielding it.” She shivered.
“This is your fault. You and your stupid jealousies. You fucking prick.” Merlin had come up to Arthur, inches away. Instinctively the blonde went to wrap his arms around the scrawny youth, but his lover shrugged out of the way, glaring hatefully. Arthur had never felt so alone.
“Be at peace my Brewers. Lord Lance, my lord Prince Arthur; go and follow the road into the Fields of Fornost and search for any sign of our lost Brewer. Do not stray too far from the track for it may be your undoing. We who are left will break camp and follow as quickly as we can.”
Arthur made to go towards Merlin but Myfanwy stopped him. “Time is of the essence, my lord.”
It was not a sharp rebuke, but the blonde felt that it was his entire fault anyway. Why did he send Celimdol away? Because of his anger? He and Lance left the mounts behind and travelled on foot into the ruined landscape, drawing their swords instinctively. Arthur gave fleeting glances towards the dark knight, but even his friend did not look at him.
Arthur left the road and searched to the east, not keeping the broken flagstones that was the Great North Road out of his sight. Lance did the same but to the west. Mist swirled around his feet and he thought of calling out the lost elf’s name, but thought better of it. To get a better view of the gloomy landscape, he went to the top of a small mound of stone and coarse grass. He looked round and saw only low lying mist and mounds similar to the one he stood on like islands in a grey sea. He kicked at a stone in frustration. “Celimdol, where are you?”
The first thing Arthur noticed was a whisper of a snigger. Then his whole world changed as a hole opened up under his feet and he plunged into darkness.
He did not know how long he had lain in the dark, but, on waking up, he immediately checked for damage. He found no broken bones but only a few bruises and a bruised ego.
Arthur could just make out a low passage way of stone before him and, picking up his shield and unsheathing his sword, he gingerly went forward. It sloped down for a while until it came out into a small circular room. This held two stone coffins on either side a throne of bone between them. Celimdol was laid out as if dead on one of the sarcophagi, his hands were clasped together on his chest and Arthur noticed his skin was pale and that there was no movement of his chest. What stopped the blonde from dashing forward was the skeleton on the throne. It wore dusty chain mail and held a long sword at the elf’s neck. Its bones glowed with an eerie green light and slowly pulsated, matching the pulse coming from a green gem at the skull’s brow.
“Leave him, boney.”
The skeleton stood and Arthur heard the whispering snigger again. “A far better prince than this elf princeling. I hunger for life.” Without any further warning the creature launched a series of blows. The first shattered Arthur’s shield and he felt his arm go numb for a few seconds. The second sliced through his chain like a hot knife through butter and the blonde knew that his own flesh underneath was also sliced open. He fought against the sting of pain and parried the next blow with his sword, wielding it two handed. The sword snapped and a chuckle came from the skeleton.
“Too easy a challenge, Prince of Camelot.”
Arthur sighed in irritation. “I’ve had those jokes throughout my life. I don’t like it.” He smashed the broken sword into the skull with all his strength, aiming for the green gem. It shattered and, with a scream of outrage, the skeleton collapsed into a pile of bones.
Arthur rushed over to the still Celimdol and felt for a pulse in the way that he had seen Lance and Gwen do. He found one and sighed with relief. Before trying to find a way out he pulled his chain and leather vest off to inspect his wound. Thankfully it was only a scratch that could be tended to later. He put the vest back on but his mail was now useless. Arthur looked towards the pile of bones and shrugged.
“You won’t need that I suppose.” He shook his new mail of bones and dust and marvelled at the chain. It seemed to be made of silver and felt as light and as soft as cloth. When he pulled it on it was a perfect fit, coming down to the top of his thighs. Arthur picked up the creature’s sword and marvelled at that also. It was slightly longer than his broken longsword and the grip seemed to be made for two hands or one. The blade glowed with a faint white light (he would later find out that it always did so when the undead were around) and had strange writing on both sides. He looked around for a scabbard, but only found decaying leather.
A stir from Celimdol brought Arthur back to the elf. “You okay?” he said in a whisper.
Grey eyes met his blue. “My lord. I…I felt a great shadow and the mists were all around. I thought I would die for I saw my face in such mists on our way to Arda.”
Arthur smiled and brushed the hair from the young elf’s brow. “Those faces lie. Remember my mother? It was all a lie. Can you get up? We need to get out of here.”
Celimdol nodded and, with Arthur’s help, he shakily stood. He looked in wonder at Arthur and smiled in thanks. “You came to rescue me.” It was a simple fact but spoken with emotion and awe.
Arthur felt embarrassed. “Nothing really. It was all my fault anyway.”
The elf shook his head and then gingerly touched the silver chain. “Mithril,” he said quietly. “As light as cotton but as hard as dragon scales, royal attire for a worthy prince. The blade I know not of, only that it is elven forged. The elf runes are the same on both sides and mean “Gilgalad” meaning “Starlight”. Myfanwy might know more about the blade.”
“I’m only borrowing them.”
“Nay my lord, you have earned the right to bear them.”
They both stood silently for a while and Arthur did not know what to say next. He cleared his throat. “Look, I was a bit stupid and jealous and said some nasty things. My temper gets the better of me sometimes. Sorry.”
Celimdol smiled and placed his hand on the blonde’s arm. “I would not come between you and I have been pondering on what Merlin has said. Perhaps there is another love for me out there somewhere. Perhaps on your own world?” He laughed nervously and Arthur laughed in relief with him.
“You are welcome to stay for as long as you like. At my place, that is, not Morgana’s,” he said, thinking that it would be better that the elf was not around Merlin too long without him to keep an eye on things.
The elf shuddered and then laughed again. “You are correct, Arthur. Your sister scares me somewhat.”
“Don’t tell her this, but she sometimes scares me as well,” Arthur said wryly and looked about the small room. “Time to get out and find Lance. Let’s go back to the hole I fell through and see if that’s an option.”
With a light from the sword guiding them, they made off up the passage way.
* * *
They road north and Merlin led Arthur’s horse behind his while Gwen did the same with Lance’s and the mule. Low lying mist was everywhere and, from the road, he could see mounds of earth and stone that looked like the barrows of his homeland. Houses of the dead.
Merlin shivered and not only from the chill in the air. The waning moon and the stars gave a little light, but they gave no comfort in the foreboding Fields of Fornost. Myfanwy had said that the area was once a site of a great battle between an alliance of elves and men against the forces of Angmar. The Witchking had already taken the capital of Arthedain, she had told them, but his military power had been broken that day. She feared that Angmar, many centuries later, was rebuilding its might under the orders of the Witchking’s master, Sauron.
A gloom of despairing silence came over the little group until Myfanwy stopped her steed and held her staff high.
“Come not near, shadow of the Necromancer, wraith of Carn Dum.” From her staff’s emerald she threw a globe of silver light into the air and got off her mount and the others followed her lead. Morrowdim, without instruction, led the horses back down the road and to safety.
Merlin peered into the gloom and at first saw nothing. Then, gliding down the road from the north, a tall figure in a cowled robe of red could be seen. The youth immediately felt a wave of fear come over him and he knew that it was also affecting most of his friends.
“My Brewers, do not fear this evil. Firm up your hearts and do not falter. This wraith is but a cargul, a slave of shadow. Look,” Myfanwy pointed to one side, “Lord Lance joins us.”
Lance made his way to the lore master’s side and drew out his sword. He steadied his shield before him. “What in the name_.” He was cut off as the cargul opened its arms as if an embrace and screamed into the silent night.
Even Myfanwy covered her ears this time and Merlin went over to her, doing the same. When the screaming stopped, the youth started to hear scratching sounds come from all about them. Glancing around, he saw skeletons armed with short swords pull themselves up from the ground.
“Mortals from outside this sphere,” Merlin heard in his head, a hissing whisper and fear coiled about in his belly. “Do not protect this daughter of Lothlorien. Her time has come. Where is your fellow lore master to protect you, elf witch? Where are your brothers? Where is your lover?”
Merlin gritted his teeth and felt the familiar throbbing in his head. His vision took on a golden hue. “She doesn’t need them, ball sack. She’s got me.” The youth concentrated and stones of all sizes in about a hundred yards radius started to lift and hover a few feet off the ground.
“Merlin, there must be over a thousand stones here. How can you do it?” asked Gwen in a hushed voice.
Merlin ignored her as sweat trickled down his cheek. The stones started to heat up and burn white hot.
“Fool,” said the shadowy voice in his head. “Mere rocks cannot harm me.”
“No? Anyway, they aren’t really for you, piss-shit.” As Morgana shouted for them to get down and Lance grabbed Merlin by the shoulders to drag him to the broken road, the stones started to hurl themselves at the skeletons. Each one shattered as a stone hit, but the boulders did not stop there. They increased speed and headed straight for the cargul.
It screamed its annoyance and the stones turned to grey powder before they even hit it. “Your power is great, but you handle it like a toy. I will take great pleasure in sucking your soul out of you.”
Merlin retched onto the ground and he felt tired, drained of power. He saw his friends stand and ready themselves as the cargul glided forward.
“If anyone’s going to do any sucking on that idiot, then it’s going to be me!”
Merlin smiled at Arthur’s voice and looked up. What he saw took his breath away. His lover was clad in silver chain mail and was wielding what seemed to be a bastard sword of light (Merlin knew what type of sword it was from his Dungeons and Dragons nights).
The cargul hissed and seemed to shrink away, but Arthur had only just begun. The blond jumped up from a small mound in the ground and struck the creature in a two handed blow. With one last screech of despair, the red robes fluttered down to the road and the fear that had been pervading the area dissipated.
Arthur helped Celimdol from his hiding place as Merlin got groggily to his feet. The elf had an arm around the blonde’s neck and was smiling with pride at them all. Myfanwy let the light globe fade and she went to them both, as they all did. Merlin stayed a few steps behind, unsure what reaction he would get from Arthur.
“A royal coat of mithril and the sword Gilgalad. My Lord Cynan too had a legendary weapon, a spear he named Ethuil, which means the season of Spring in our tongue. He named it for the hope it would bring in these days of shadow. Though now broken, he named it well, as a portend perhaps? For surely his naming was in the honour of your coming, my lord Arthur, Prince of Hope.”
Arthur furiously blushed and Merlin ached to go to him, but still held back. He was unsure of the reception he would get.
Myfanwy turned to him. “And now, my friend Merlin, tell me this; did Cynan in your dreams travel further north to the ruins of Fornost?”
“Erm, no, no he didn’t. He went that way to a lake and a drowned city and a little island, I think.” He waved his hand roughly westwards.
Myfanwy nodded and thought a while. “The city is one much older than Fornost, of a kingdom older than Arthedain. It is called Annúminas and was the capital city of a greater kingdom that covered much of Eriador; Arnor of over a thousand years ago. My elder brother Aneirin would speak of it fondly.” She squared her shoulders and looked at them each in turn. “Though the Witchking searches many leagues to the south doing his master’s bidding, he has surely laid a trap for us at Lake Evendim. The hour is late, this I know, but such flower of youth should not be so squandered in my selfishness. This quest for my lover is my own. I can send you back using the drawings my Lord Merlin has done on our journey north, though he thinks I know it not.” Merlin’s ears burned, but one smile from the elf relaxed him. “I shall do it now for all of you, even Celimdol, for his heart will not reside in Arda for some time to come; of this I have seen.”
They began to protest, but Morgana’s voice cut above the rest. “We are Brewers. We don’t abandon our own!”
The elf maiden’s shoulders sagged and tears came to her eyes. “Blessed am I to live to see the heart of Man show its true strength.”
They were interrupted by Morrowdim leading the other mounts back. The grey horse went straight to Arthur and licked his face. The blonde laughed. “I missed you too.”
Merlin shuffled his feet shyly and cleared his throat. “Did…did you miss me also?”
Arthur looked straight at his face and Merlin felt his knees shake. “Come here you idiot,” and his lover wrapped him in his arms and planted a wet kiss on him.
“I’m sorry for being angry. I would never use magic on you and Celimdol and me are just friends, brothers really. Fucking hell! I can’t be without you, you know that, right?” he said as he came up for air.
Arthur tightened his grip and kissed him on his cheeks and forehead. “You’re mine and always will be.”
“About time,” said Gwen. “Now let’s make camp. I’m not travelling through this land in the dark!”
They laughed. They set up camp. Merlin and Arthur shared a tent.
* * *
He dreams…
Anharadeth reigned in her horse, the village of Trestlebridge before her. Behind her are five wardens and twice as many of the Bree Watch. She looks tired and her blue dress and cloak are stained with travel.
“Do we press on my lady?” asks Aneirin. He jumps down before going to help her. She waves his efforts away with irritation and the dreamer notices the hurt look on the warriors face before it is replaced with one of stone.
“The horses are tired my lord, would you have them run into the ground? We stay the night.”
“Good,” says Bjalar, jumping down from his pony. “I have a thirst that needs to be quenched.”
The lore master turns and orders the troops behind her to set up camp. She then goes to see about the village defences. It is long into the night before Aneirin persuades her to retire.
He dreams…
Cynan is in a cage of iron, small enough that the elf cannot stand.
A large man with a broken nose, that the dreamer has seen before, laughs. “I’ve fucked this one but he’s mad. What I want is to fuck his brother and that youth with the cheekbones, the one I met in the Forsaken Inn. They will not be sold. They are mine. You can kill or do whatever you want with the others.”
His men laugh harshly and the dreamer flees the scene.
He dreams…
“Dammit Merlin! I said take the bracelet off when you had bunny sex with Blondie.” The voice is in his head and the dreamer laughs.
* * *
Bedwyr stirred from his slumber. Another was at the standing stones. He rose up from the ground and the mist congealed into his solid form. The man was about thirty. When he whirled around in alarm, he saw that the human needed a shave, but was physically fit and not the usual inhabitant of this land.
“Who are you? Where did you come from?”
Bedwyr sighed with impatience. “Your name,” he said with a commanding voice.
“Gawain McKenna of the tribe of Hermes, Forest of Dean.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Our shaman said that I would find myself, find my true love and that I would go on a long journey.”
Bedwyr thought on this and his eyes narrowed. “What are you?”
“Lupine.”
The ancient warrior gave a growl of annoyance. He knew there was a tribe of wolf runners in the northern half of Wales and he had heard rumours of some in Scotland and Cumbria and that lone wolves travelled throughout the isles. He decided that he should travel more and find out about the spread of supernaturals. He released the human.
Gawain’s face creased in anger. “Don’t try and command me again, leach. I don’t need the full moon to transform. Who are you?”
The warrior looked at him with disdain. “Bedwyr ap Bedrawt.”
Gawain gaped. “The Protector of Wales? I’ve heard stories about you. One of the few leaches, er, I mean, vampires, to run with us.”
Bedwyr snorted a laugh. “Such titles have no meaning for me. I am here to wait for the return of travellers. I was to kill one of them.”
Gawain’s face hardened. “I’ll wait with you,” and he sat on his haunches.
The ancient warrior shrugged his shoulders and did the same. He faced the wolf runner. It was going to be a long night.