Sword of Light (5 page)

She passed it to him, and he tore at it hungrily with strong teeth.

Elphin hadn’t even touched his. He watched the boy with a disgusted expression. “Don’t you have any decent food here?”

“Not good enough for you, your highness?” Cai scowled. “You’re lucky, you’ve got half my
ration. So what do you eat in Avalon?”

Elphin smiled. “We eat wild strawberries with Avalonian honey, mushrooms flavoured with unicorn horn, and… cakes made with flour ground from human bones,” he teased.

Cai eyed him sideways. “Really? What do the cakes taste like?”

“Pretty good, actually. Especially when Mother makes them with the bones of plump human squires Father brings back from the Hunt.”

Cai paled. “Well, you’d better go back to Avalon then, because we don’t make cakes out of human bones here. Even the Saxons wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh stop it, you two!” Rhianna said, slapping away an insect. “Don’t listen to him, Cai. The Hunt doesn’t bring back bodies, only souls,
and you can’t make cakes out of souls. We’re wasting time. We should be going to find Excalibur, not waiting around here for Merlin, getting cold and wet and bitten. Where is he, the old fool?” But she felt bad because she knew it was her fault they’d lost him. She wondered what they would do if he didn’t turn up.

Elphin glanced at her as he reached for his harp. “Shall I play something to make us warmer? I might be able to light our fire if I try.”

“No,” Cai said quickly. “Someone might hear you.” He glanced nervously at the trees.

“Someone like your evil Prince Mordred, you mean?” Elphin asked. “I saw him in Merlin’s song-pictures. He looked very violent.”

“What’s a song-picture?” Cai asked with his mouth full. “And did Mordred look very ugly? He left Camelot before I joined the squire
school, thank God. He used to be quite handsome, but apparently he got cut up bad in the battle – serves him right for killing King Arthur, that’s what I say! But then Merlin took the king’s body into the mists… Is it true people don’t die in Avalon?”

Rhianna shook away an image of Mordred’s axe coming down on her father’s head. “Sort of,” she said, thinking of the king’s body in the crystal caverns. They could be here all night explaining Avalon’s magic to the boy. She still had a hundred questions of her own. “What did Sir Bors mean about the queen being kidnapped? He means my mother, doesn’t he? How did it happen?”

Cai frowned. “Dunno. I weren’t born back then, though the older squires still talk about it sometimes. Some upstart lord was supposed to have carried her off one night and imprisoned
her on the Lonely Tor right over there.” He pointed to the hill, black against the stars. “She vanished so completely, some people say she was stolen away by the fairies… sorry, no offence.” He glanced warily at Elphin’s harp. “But King Arthur led some of his knights to rescue her, attacked the Tor by moonlight and galloped back across the water with Queen Guinevere in his arms. Merlin parted the sea for him – that must have been something to see! I bet that stupid lord who kidnapped her got a shock. Afterwards the queen founded that monastery over there, so anyone else who got stuck on the island would have a safe place to go. I bet that’s where Merlin’s sleeping tonight.”

Rhianna eyed the cluster of huts, barely visible in the dark. If the druid was sleeping in a warm bed tonight while they camped out here
in the rain, she’d have something to say to him in the morning.

“We don’t take humans to Avalon against their will,” Elphin said, frowning.

Except when they’re babies and can’t protest,
Rhianna thought. When Cai opened his mouth to ask yet another question, she got in first. “When King Arthur got the queen back, was she still pregnant?” she asked.

“Oh, no! That’s the whole point!” Cai finished the last crumbs and grinned. “Her baby was gone. Everyone thought she’d lost it with all the upset. But now here you are, come out of the mists… I reckon them people who say she was kidnapped by the fairy lord were right. What was it like growing up in Avalon? Is Lord Avallach as terrible as they say?”

Rhianna glanced at Elphin.
Fairy
. She hadn’t
heard the word before today. Judging by the way his eyes had turned purple it must be an insult. Remembering all the teasing she’d endured in Avalon for not having any magic, she felt a sudden sympathy for her friend. Here Elphin would get teased, because he was the different one in this world. She wanted to say something nice about his people. But before she could tell Cai how kind and generous Lord Avallach had been to her, and how he had given her Alba and her beautiful armour, Elphin touched her arm. He was staring into the darkness.

“Something’s out there,” he whispered.

Sir Bors whirled, his hand dropping to his sword hilt. Sir Bedivere and Sir Agravaine were still arguing over how best to light the fire. “Quiet!” Bors hissed. “Might be Saxons.” He put a finger to his lips and pointed at the
trees. The three knights crept warily into the shadows, their swords drawn.

Rhianna held her breath. She hadn’t heard anything. But Elphin’s ears were sharper than human ears.

“Is it Merlin?” she whispered back.

“I don’t think so,” he said, his hand creeping towards his harp.

Cai moaned. “I feel sick.”

“Serves you right for eating so much,” Rhianna said.

“Shh!” Elphin breathed. “There’s something very dark out there, I can’t—”

A grunt came from the trees, and Sir Agravaine shouted, “Got him!”

Sir Bors raced after his friend, and the wood erupted with thuds and yells and the clash of swords.

Leaves showered their shelter as something heavy crashed down upon it. Cai yelled and fumbled for his knife. Elphin covered his harp with his body. Rhianna grabbed the dragon shield and dived for the disappearing gap. She could see Alba tugging at her tether and whinnying in terror and Elphin’s little Evenstar rearing. Then the shelter collapsed on her legs, and she sprawled face down in the mud.

She just had time to raise the shield over her head as a huge, black-winged creature dived out of the night towards her, trailing blue mist. It hit the shield with a thud, and cold rippled up her arm. Something dark and terrifying flickered inside her head. “I SEE YOU, PENDRAGON,” it roared.

Then it was gone.

M
ordred watched in his mirror as the dragon flapped away across the water, its wings trailing blue mist. So much for his mother’s magic – she’d promised him the creature would disable the girl until his men could get there, yet it had been turned aside by the Pendragon’s old shield! He hadn’t even got a proper look at his cousin. Pathetic. Where was his mother, anyway?

He peered deeper into the glass. At first all he could see was the cursed mist, sparkling with enchantments. Then he saw a lone hill
with a black tower on the top. It looked a bit like the island where his Aunt Guinevere had founded some kind of village for priests of the Christ-god, only different somehow. Thunder rumbled around the hill. In its shadow a small boat floated upside down. An oar drifted between the rocks, blackened and splintered, with what looked like a bundle of rags clinging to it. As the dark wings passed overhead, the rags stirred and a knobbly hand flicked a weak enchantment into the air.

“Merlin!” Mordred breathed, drawing back a bit from the mirror in case the interfering old druid could see him.

The dragon gave a shriek, swooped down and snatched something silver from the water. Lightning flickered, showing this to be the spiral charm from the end of Merlin’s staff.
Before Mordred could see any more, a ragged hole appeared in the storm clouds and swallowed the creature.

For a moment he thought Merlin had tricked them. Then black mist swirled on the beach and took the form of his mother cloaked in shadows. She held what remained of the druid’s staff with its end thrust towards the drowning man.

“Take hold, Merlin!” she called in her sweetest voice. “I’ll pull you ashore.”

Mordred grinned. This should be entertaining.

The druid raised his head and squinted at the beach, as if he couldn’t quite see who had spoken. He probably couldn’t. If Mordred knew his mother at all, she had enchanted herself to appear as somebody else.

But he had underestimated Merlin, as usual.

“Where is she, witch?” he croaked. “If you’ve hurt her—”

“Why worry about a silly girl who just wants to gallop about on horseback?” The witch’s voice became soft and persuasive. “You’re too old for this, Merlin. You could barely fight off that shadrake, could you? You had quite enough trouble with Arthur. His daughter’s a lost cause believe me. You’ll drown if you stay out there much longer. Let me help you. Take hold!”

Merlin eyed the staff. Mordred could almost see the old druid’s thoughts working: without it, he would be helpless against his enemy’s dark magic. With visible effort, he reached out a trembling hand and closed his fingers about the splintered end.

The witch gave a shout of triumph, and the staff turned into a ghostly green snake that whipped its dark coils about the druid’s wrist and bit him. Poison filled his body, immobilising him. Then the snake dragged him underwater. A stream of bubbles rose to the surface, a glimmering thread floated out of the water and into the mist, and all was calm.

Back on the beach, Mordred’s mother dusted off her hands and laughed. “You can’t help them now, old fool!” she called. “Bringing the girl out of Avalon was your biggest mistake yet. She won’t survive the winter.”

Mordred chuckled too, and his mother whirled to face him, fingers pointed in the witch-sign. When she saw him flinch, she lowered her hand and smiled. “Oh, it’s you, Mordred. Spying on me, I see! At least you’re
learning to use that mirror I gave you. Well, my son? Did you like what you saw?”

“Is Merlin dead?” Mordred asked, curious about that glimmer he’d seen.

“Dead enough. His body is useless to him now, and he’s the last of his kind. I doubt he can manage the spirit transfer on his own – but even if he does, he’ll be of little threat to us without his druid’s staff.”

“Your creature failed,” Mordred said sulkily. “The girl’s still free.”

“I can’t do everything for you. Get those lazy blood-drinkers of yours after her! They should find it easy enough now the druid’s out of the way. I’m dead, remember? There’s a limit to my powers in your world.” As she spoke, her cloak dissolved once more into black mist and the mirror showed him his own face.

Mordred scowled at the sword cut on his cheek. His body wasn’t healing fast enough. His men were looking for Excalibur. They knew nothing yet about Arthur’s daughter. It might take them all winter to find the sword and report back to him, and by that time his cousin could be anywhere. She might even flee back to Avalon after the shadrake’s attack. Most damsels he knew would have fainted at the very sight of the creature. Why on earth hadn’t his mother snatched
her
instead of Merlin as they came through the mists?

But at least the girl didn’t have the druid to look after her any more. His mother was right. It would be like hunting baby rabbits with his favourite hawk. Mordred smiled, feeling a bit better. He’d always enjoyed hearing their helpless squeals.

4

The Road to Camelot

W
arily, Rhianna lifted the edge of the shield and peered out into the night. Strange lights flickered over the marsh and a rotten smell hung in the air. For a heartbeat
she saw a black tower on the crest of the Tor, silhouetted against purple storm clouds and with black wings flapping around it. Then the lights faded and the tower vanished.

Alba whinnied to her.
I need help
.

She picked herself up and hurried to the mare, whose lead rope had become tangled with those of the other horses. By the time she had sorted them out and soothed the trembling mist horses, Elphin and Cai had emerged from beneath the collapsed shelter and the knights had stopped fighting.

“Geroff me, you great oafs!” Sir Bedivere spluttered.

Shamefaced, Sir Agravaine and Sir Bors sheathed their swords and let their friend get up out of the mud. There had been no enemy in the trees, after all. In their confusion and the
shadows, they had been fighting each other.

Sir Bedivere retrieved his sword, wiped wet leaves from the blade and glared at them. “What were you trying to do? Are you blind, or something?”

“You nearly took my hand off,” Sir Agravaine said.

“Well, what do you expect? Jumping me out of the dark like that… you should watch it. I might have killed you.”

“Ha! That’ll be the day. Soft Hands Bedivere, killing somebody.”

“That’s enough, you two,” Sir Bors snapped. “You’re forgetting our charges. Are you all right, Princess Rhianna?”

Rhianna didn’t feel much like a princess with soggy leaves all down her front and mud on her face. She almost giggled. Then she
remembered Lord Avallach’s warning about Mordred hunting her, and the smile died on her lips. She nodded. “I’m fine.”

“What
was
that thing?” Cai stared at their fallen shelter. The canvas glittered with ice crystals and bore the marks of large claws.

“A dragon?” Sir Bedivere suggested. “Like the one that stole Arthur’s crown?”

Sir Bors frowned into the mist, paling now with the dawn. “There ain’t supposed to be no dragons left in these parts. Looked like it came over from the Tor, which is bad news if that’s where Merlin went.”

Elphin glanced up from checking his harp. “I think it was a shadrake from Annwn,” he said quietly. “They’re supposed to be related to dragons, except they breathe ice instead of fire. I’ve never seen one before, but the mists
between worlds are thin here… it must have slipped through when Merlin opened the way.”

Rhianna turned cold all over. Annwn… the land of shadow, where the Wild Hunt took the souls of the dead that had nowhere else to go. She could only imagine what horrors might live there, because whenever the Avalonians sang about Annwn, the crystal walls of Lord Avallach’s palace turned black.

The knights glanced uneasily at one another. Cai made the sign of a cross over his chest. Rhianna wondered what it meant, but was more worried about how they were going to find Excalibur without Merlin’s help.

“Right,” Sir Bors broke the frightened silence. “It obviously ain’t safe for us to stay here. We can’t wait for Merlin no longer. I vote we
escort Damsel Rhianna and her fairy friend to Camelot, where we can at least protect them properly while we decide what to do next. Merlin’s bound to realise we’ve gone there, and if he don’t turn up we can always try using the Round Table to contact him, like Arthur used to do when he was off on his druid business.”

“I don’t need protecting…” Rhianna began, but closed her mouth when she caught Elphin’s warning glance. His eyes were deep purple with agitation.

“Just wait till you see King Arthur’s famous table!” Cai said, brightening. “There’s none like it in the whole world. It almost fills the Great Hall, which is bigger than anybody else’s. Then there’s the jousting court, where we—”

“Cai,” Sir Bors growled. “Save it for later and go saddle my horse.”

It did not take them long to pack. Their shelter was down already, and their unlit fire didn’t need putting out. All they had to do was load up their luggage. Sir Bors mounted his big bay horse and took the lead; Sir Agravaine, carrying the lance, brought up the rear on his black stallion, while Sir Bedivere took Cai on the hindquarters of his chestnut. The plump boy didn’t look very comfortable and clung to Sir Bedivere’s waist. Rhianna rode knee to knee with Elphin, the two mist horses looking very small and delicate beside the knights’ big warhorses. She kept her shield on her arm and eyed the marshes warily as Sir Bors led them along narrow, raised tracks that seemed to vanish into the mist behind them.

“Could that dragon-creature have had something to do with Merlin’s disappearance,
do you think?” she whispered to her friend as they went.

“I hope not,” Elphin said. “But dragons collect treasure to build their nests and I don’t suppose shadrakes are much different, so it could have been attracted to his staff shining in the mists. It’s a good thing you haven’t got Excalibur yet, or it might not have given up so easily.” His fingers clutched at the bag containing his harp. He looked pale.

“What’s wrong?” Rhianna asked.

He said tightly, “I tried to use my magic to help you, but it didn’t work properly. When I saw that thing dive at you, I thought… I thought it was going to kill you!” His eyes had gone such a deep purple they appeared black.

“Oh, stop it,” Rhianna said, embarrassed. “That creature came out of nowhere. You hardly
had much chance to get out your harp and start singing, did you? Anyway, I had my shield, so it didn’t hurt me.”

Elphin frowned. “But it could have done! You’re only human.”

Rhianna had to laugh. She slapped his knee playfully. “Cheer up, Elphin. It’s not so bad being human, you know. I’m used to it.”

“But Father said I had to—”

“Protect me. I know.” She grinned again. “But I already told Sir Bors, I don’t need protecting. Just wait till we find my father’s sword. Then I’ll be the one protecting you!”

My father was king of this land,
she reminded herself firmly, which made it her land too. There was nothing to fear while his knights rode with them.

She sat straighter in her saddle and stared
around curiously as the countryside unfolded before them. As they rode out of the marshes on to drier ground, the mists rolled back and the sun shone through, turning the trees around them to a blaze of gold. They cantered on springy green turf along a wide straight track, a bit overgrown in places but good for the horses. With the blue skies and fresh autumn breeze, her spirits soon lifted.

They passed an empty villa with a red roof, its whitewashed walls covered with ivy. Coloured tiles showed through the weeds in the courtyard. She wanted to stop and look at the pattern, but Bors had already trotted past. When she asked the other two knights who had lived there, Sir Agravaine muttered “Romans” under his breath and refused to say any more.

Then they came to a town, where half the houses were burned-out shells. People ran out when they heard the horses’ hooves, and called after the knights to send help. Small children with grubby faces clung to the women’s skirts, staring wide-eyed at the two mist horses.

Sir Bors pressed his lips together and led them quickly past. “Saxons have been this way,” he said. “We’re too noticeable with them fairy horses. I’d leave them behind, if it wouldn’t slow us down too much. Keep your eyes peeled.”

Please do not leave me here,
said Alba.

“Of course we won’t leave you, silly,” Rhianna said, scowling at the big knight. Just let him try to make her.

She felt relieved when they left the town behind. Her neck prickled and she kept turning her head, imagining dark wings following them.
She couldn’t stop thinking about that hiss she’d heard in her head.
I see you, Pendragon
. Was it Mordred’s creature? Well, she’d be ready for it next time.

More wary of Saxons than dragons, Sir Bors and Sir Agravaine rode with their hands on their swords, while Sir Bedivere told Cai to be ready with his dagger in case of trouble. Elphin loosened the strings of his harp bag and kept a wary lookout with his violet eyes. Rhianna wished she had Excalibur, and wondered why her father had told his knights to throw the magic sword away if he’d know it gave him strength.

When the sun set, they rode off the road and up a hill, where they made camp inside a circle of stones marked with curious lines and spirals.
Cai gathered wood, and this time Elphin breathed a long, low note over the fire and the spark from Sir Bors’ flint caught straight away.

Cai stared at the Avalonian boy, impressed. “That’s nearly as good as Merlin does it!” he said. “Can you do any other magic?”

“Don’t take much magic to light dry wood and sheep’s wool,” Bors muttered, scowling at the squire. “Leave him be, Cai. This ain’t the place for silly tricks.”

But as they shared out the last of the stale bread Elphin looked much happier than he had that morning. This time Rhianna was hungry enough to eat her ration, though she kept the crust for Alba. “I promise I’ll get you a whole bucket of apples when we reach Camelot,” she told the mare as she fed the bread to her. Although the rain had stopped and the stars
glittered like they did in Avalon, the night was chilly. She pulled her cloak around her and stared out into the darkness beyond the glow of their fire, wondering if she would always feel this cold in her father’s world.

Elphin came to join her and rested a hand on one of the tall stones. His fingers traced the spirals. “There’s power in these,” he said. “Faint, but I can feel it… echoes of men’s songs.”

“Your magic still works, doesn’t it?” Rhianna said.

“Yes – in this place, anyway.”

“Good. Do you know how to get us back to Avalon?”

Elphin eyed her sideways. “Had enough of the world of men already?”

“Of course not! I just mean if we find Excalibur, and Merlin doesn’t turn up in time.”

Her friend pulled a face. “I don’t know, Rhia. Even Merlin said he found the way through the mists difficult last time, didn’t he?”

“But you’re Lord Avallach’s son. You
must
know how to get home.”

“I’m not old enough to lead the Wild Hunt yet.”

“What’s that got to do with it? Can’t you use your harp somehow?”

“Sorry, Rhia… all I know is Merlin wasn’t meant to get lost.”

Rhianna sighed. “I suppose we’ll have to find him, then.” She’d been hoping they could complete their quest without the grumpy old druid and show him she could handle a magic sword as well as any son of Arthur’s would have done.

Elphin gave her a sharp look. “You’re
shivering,” he said, suddenly concerned. “Let’s go back to the fire. I didn’t help light it so that lump Cai could hog it all night.”

Rhianna giggled. “Shh! He’s listening.”

“He’s still a lump. I’ve never seen anyone eat so fast, have you?” Elphin raised his voice. “Better slow down, human squire, or Sir Bedivere’s poor horse will collapse under your weight!”

Cai laughed. “You’d eat fast, too, fairy boy, if the Saxons kept stealing all your food!” he called back. “Not all of us can magic apples out of thin air, you know. Besides, you’ve never been in the squires’ dining hall at the end of a long day running around after the knights in the jousting court. You’ll find out!”

Rhianna had never seen Elphin magic an apple out of the air, either. But she was glad to return to the warmth of the fire. While the
three knights patrolled the stones with their hands on their swords, she rested her head on her father’s shield and stared up at the stars. “What’s Camelot like?” she asked.

“Huge!” Cai said. “It stands up on great hill, all shining white like the moon. It’s got ramparts all around, and the deepest ditches and the tallest towers in the world, and no Saxon has ever set foot inside its gates and lived to tell the tale. There’s room inside the walls for all of King Arthur’s knights and their horses and families and hawks and everything else. There’s a school for us squires training to be knights, and the Damsel Tower for the girls, and a chapel for the Christ-god and his priests. The Great Hall has a mosaic on the floor better than any you’ll find in Rome, and in the middle is the Round Table which Merlin enchanted,
so there would always be enough seats for all the knights who want to sit with the king. And because it’s round, none of them sit higher than any of the others, so whatever they discuss is fair and equal, and no knight can break a promise he makes when he sits there… least they couldn’t until that idiot Mordred killed the king.” He paused for breath. “I’m sorry, Damsel Rhianna, I forgot. It must be sad for you to hear about King Arthur’s death, with him being your father and all.”