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chapter seven
unpleasant reminders
The next morning started early. I was up b
We met with
the other knights and Arthur at the gates and set out for the town. We split up
to cover as much ground as possible and asked anyone we found whether they knew
anything of the whereabouts of Lancelot or his two companions. Several people
tried to be helpful, but no one really had any hard evidence as to where the
three men went, unless they were lying, though I could see no reason why they
would.
By
mid-morning, I had spoken to no less than fifty people, and had not found out
anything of use. I stopped by a water trough to let Elith drink, and while I
stood, stroking his forelock, I happened to glance up and catch a movement out
of the corner of my eye. I frowned, then saw a figure step out from behind a
corner for a moment and stare right at me.
I felt my
heart in my mouth. Was it? No! But it was.
It had to be, I could never mistake that face for it haunted my nightmares. It
was Morgan la Fay.
I was
pulled by some invisible thread in her direction. I could not explain it, and
never would be able to decide whether it was a want to end what was between us,
or simply her manipulating me with magic. But I left my horse and walked down
the alley, away from the traders’ stalls, against my better judgment. Dread
filled me, but I was determined to face her; to finally put an end to this.
When I got
to the place she had been, I saw no one, and I began to wonder whether she had
only been a specter of my imagination.
“Mordred.
It’s good to see you.”
I spun
around to find her behind me, dressed in a long red dress and black riding
cloak with the hood pulled over her dark hair to conceal her features. I
stepped back automatically before I steeled myself, refusing to fear her,
though my heart was thumping wildly.
“Lady
Morgan,” I said. “I did not expect to see you.”
“No?” she
inquired, raising one dark eyebrow before she held her hand out to me. “Come.
Let us talk; there is much I wish to discuss with you.”
I followed
her into a shed off a stable that was filled with bales of hay and feed. She
flicked her wrist and the door shut behind us. I was about to speak, but I was
suddenly flung backwards, and slammed against the wall. I tried to move, but
couldn’t; I was stuck fast with magic. She advanced on me and leaned close to
my face, grabbing my chin with one hand.
“You have
been here a month, and not one message to me, Mordred. I decided to pay you a
visit to see whether you had forgotten or if something had befallen you.”
“I find it
impossible to forget, Morgan,” I told her firmly. “I just had nothing to say to
you.”
“Nothing?”
she asked. “So you have not met with Arthur, and gotten into his good graces?”
“He is a
good man,” I replied boldly. “Better than you can ever hope to be.”
She
clenched her fist and I felt the familiar agony tighten around my heart,
stealing my breath and causing me to wreathe. She finally stopped the pain and
let me slide to the ground where I curled over, gasping for breath and
clutching my chest.
“You are
pathetic, Mordred,” she snarled. “Weak. Did I teach you nothing? I told you
that if you didn’t find a way to kill Arthur, I would force you to do it. Do
you want that?”
I shook my
head, still unable to speak.
“Because I
can bend you, and make you do it whether you want to or not. Is it that you
care about him? That you have actually come to think of him as a father?”
I was
silent, trying to regain my feet. She slammed me against the wall again, and
pressed herself against me, her hand over my pounding heart, digging her nails
into me.
“Because
you know he will never claim you, just as Uther never claimed me. And then you
will know what it feels like not to be wanted by your own parent, or at least
the person you care for as one. You should kill him now before he can break
your pathetic heart. Because you know he will never fully acknowledge an illegitimate
offspring.”
“You just
wanted the throne,” I ground out hoarsely. “You only wanted your father’s love
out of greed. Arthur thinks I’m his son, and he loves me for that alone. He
would give me more than I asked for, but I need nothing but his affection, even
though we aren’t tied by blood. You just don’t understand that because one must
love before one can be loved.” I cried out as she caused the pain to grip me
again, but this time, it was cut off abruptly as the door opened.
“Well,
well, if it isn’t Morgan la Fay.”
Lady Morgan
dropped me to the floor and I choked air back into my lungs, looking up to see
my savior was none other than…
“Merlin,”
snarled Lady Morgan, clenching her fists.
“Are you
all right, Mordred?” the sorcerer asked me, never breaking eye contact with
Lady Morgan.
“Y-yes,” I
gasped out, trying to get to my feet. Merlin was standing calmly in front of
Lady Morgan, that small, mocking smile on his lips, and I could see my
tormenter hated him with a passion that could almost rival her hatred for
Arthur. It was certain that these two knew each other, though I had never had
knowledge of that.
“It is
really low of you to pick on boys, Morgan,” Merlin told her. “If you were so
desperate for a contest, you knew where to find me.”
Morgan la
Fay screamed out a spell, but Merlin countered it lazily, shaking his head. “My
dear, you know you have to do better
than that.” And then he sent her flying backwards with a careless flick of his
wrist as if she had been yanked on a rope, and she screamed as she was buried
deep in the piles of hay, scrambling around in a very undignified manor to get
out of them. Merlin reached out a hand to me, hauling me completely upright
before shoving me out the door in front of him.
“Come then,
young Mordred, let us be off.”
I didn’t
have time to protest, and just allowed him to haul me out the door and down
another back street before he stopped suddenly and spun me around to slam me
against a wall. I was shocked and frightened, seeing no more of the sardonic
humor in his face, but only a cold, calculating danger.
“What
dealings have you with Morgan la Fay?” he asked me in a low voice.
“None, I…”
I gasped as he shook me, his hand squeezing painfully into my wound.
“Tell me
the truth, Mordred. I think you know very well what I am capable of, and I
don’t want to have to force you to tell me.”
I shook my
head. I didn’t want that either. So I told him about how Morgan had found me
and taken me in and raised me as a son, and how she had turned into a different
person with the news of Arthur’s coronation. And then about her plan to get me
to kill Arthur. Merlin had let me go by then, and stood back with his arms
crossed over his chest, listening as I spoke. I was desperate at the end,
finally realizing the enormity of the situation and the fact that I might not
be able to stop this course of events after all. Ignoring it seemed not to be
enough.
“I don’t
want to kill him, I swear, Merlin, I don’t,” I cried, and sunk down against the
wall. “And I won’t. I don’t care what she does to me.”
Merlin
crouched down and put a hand on my shoulder. “I trust your motives, Mordred.
But I don’t think you fully understand the gravity of the situation. There may
come a day where she will force you
to kill Arthur, whether you want to or not, and I believe you don’t, don’t
worry about that. There is more going on here than you understand; ancient
stirrings and fates are tangled up in an incredibly messy thread. But, no, I
don’t expect you to know what I’m talking about.”
“What can I
do?” I pleaded. “I cannot kill him. He has been so kind to me, and treats me
like his son. I hate having to lie to him, but I do selfishly enjoy that one,
I’ll admit. I’ve never had a father.”
“And Arthur
loves you, believe me,” Merlin said kindly. “And I’m rather fond of you myself,
lad. You must never underestimate the powers of love and hate; they are the
most powerful things in this world, and they are always at war. It is up to you
to decide which will win.” His face turned dark and he leaned close, gripping
my shoulders tightly. “But I also will tell you this in fair warning. Arthur is
like my brother, Mordred, not just my comrade but my blood brother, and if you
do him any harm, I will be forced to kill you without hesitation and remorse,
do you understand?”
I nodded,
gulping. Merlin was like that, I found. He could say how much he liked you one
minute and then threaten to kill you the next, but I was glad of his threat,
for I knew that if I were to kill Arthur, I would be thankful if Merlin would
kill me in turn. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself afterward anyway.
As soon as
the dangerous Merlin came, he disappeared and the sorcerer was all sarcastic
smiles again. He stood and pulled me up. “Come then, Mordred. It is time we
meet up with the others once more. I feared our efforts would be fruitless this
day, but that is the way of it. And I do believe you are right. He will be back
for you, and possibly for Guinevere as well. You must be careful, Mordred. You
have made powerful enemies.” He smiled mockingly and I couldn’t help but say,
“You included?”
He laughed
but said nothing. He knew that I understood well enough our relationship.
When we
came back to the others after I retrieved my horse and Merlin his, having left
it with Elith when he came to rescue me from Lady Morgan, we found that no one
had heard any news to help our search.
“I think it
is time to lower our banners,” Arthur said grimly. “There will be no finding
him unless he wants to be found.”
So we went
back to the castle, feeling we had failed in our duty. But I had other things,
darker things, on my mind now than the disappearance of Lancelot. If Lady
Morgan had come to find me here, what other lengths would she go to in order to
force me to finish the mission she had given me? I dared not think then, and
that night I did not sleep a wink. However, I did have comfort in the fact that
one person knew my story, and though, there was a part of me that was not
entirely sure Merlin was an ally, I knew he would be on my side as long as I
had the best interests of Arthur at heart, which I would keep there until I
died.
Or until
Morgan la Fay killed me.
Lovely bllog you have
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