CHAPTER 1- DREAMS, JOURNEYS AND DECEIT
August, 482 CE
Merlin was standing at the top of a mountain shrouded in mist. The razor-sharp rocks that covered the entire surface of the ground disappeared into the haze only a dozen yards away. A cold wind swept across the mountaintop and made him shiver. He looked around, trying to determine his surroundings through the thick wall of fog surrounding him, but to no avail.
Then, as he stepped forward, intending to make his way downhill regardless of the poor visibility, the surreal and eerie silence was suddenly broken by violent roars of inhuman origin. The mist parted to reveal two giant beasts engaged in a ferocious fight to the death. The beasts were dragons – one of them white like the snow, the other scarlet red. Two dragons were locked in an endless and desperate struggle until the red dragon finally emerged victorious, its opponent reduced to a lifeless mass of burned flesh and its formerly snow-white scales dyed vermilion with the beast's own blood. Merlin watched in amazement as the scarlet dragon suddenly spread its wings and took off. The gale it produced by flapping its wings was so strong he had to drop to the ground and hold onto the rocks with all his strength in order not to be blown away by the hurricane-level winds.
Suddenly, the winds stopped. Once he rose to his feet, Merlin saw that the scenery had changed completely. He was now standing in the middle of a large meadow. Judging by the colour of the skies, it was only moments before the dawn. And then, just as suddenly and unexpectedly as before, the red dragon appeared in the sky, flying from the west. As it got nearer, Merlin realised it was also descending, and it made him uncomfortable. He wanted to run, but for some reason, his legs wouldn't listen to him – it's as if they were stuck in stone. The dragon was now only a few dozen yards away, but instead of attacking the defenceless Merlin, it just flew over his head and landed not far behind him.
He turned around, only to see that the monster had disappeared and that a human shape was standing where the dragon should have been. The person's face was hidden in shadows and Merlin could not even tell whether it was a man or a woman or how old the person was. As he was trying to get a glimpse of the person's face, something else grabbed his attention, something he only just realised was there.
The person was standing in front of a sword stuck in a large stone. The moment Merlin noted the stone and the sword, the mysterious person in front of him stepped forward towards the stone and pulled the sword out of it. In that instant, the sun rose over the horizon and a flood of bright light blinded Merlin. He raised his hand to cover his eyes, but the staggering light burned his retinas.
The pain in his eyes woke Merlin up.
'That dream again?' he thought as he raised his hand to cover his eyes. The rays of sunshine that were coming through the narrow gap between the curtains were certainly real this time, and they just so happened to land where his eyes were. Just his luck.
Merlin removed his blankets and sluggishly rose to his feet. It was still early in the morning, but he knew that any attempts to try to go back to sleep would be futile; once he woke up, he could never fall asleep again until the end of the day, or if he was overtired. He stretched his limbs and yawned, and then started to walk around the room to shake off the sleepiness and stiffness in his body. He finally stopped in front of one of the windows, and after a short pause, spread the curtains and opened the window. He expected a flood of light to fill the room and had already raised his hand to cover his eyes, but the actual amount of light that came through the window was rather underwhelming.
Apparently, those few rays of sunshine that landed on his eyes and woke him up were more or less all there was. The sky was overcast and only a few feeble rays of light managed to get through the small cracks in the clouds. After gazing absentmindedly at the gray skies and distant green fields, Merlin lowered his gaze and surveyed the courtyard beneath the window. The Pendragon castle was mostly empty, with only a few guards patrolling the castle walls and a lone blacksmith sorting out his tools in his shed in the yard. Cold wind was blowing from the east and the castle's banners were flying high, tightly fastened to the poles on top of the fort's numerous towers and wooden ramparts.
Merlin fixed his eyes on one of the banners – the Pendragon standard was a red flag with a black dragon in its centre. King Uther adopted it along with the epithet "Pendragon" when he achieved an astonishing victory against the Saxons several years ago. According to Uther, he saw a falling star in the shape of a dragon on the night before the battle, and interpreted it as a sign from God. He had his army bear the dragon standard in the next day's battle, and after he won, he gave himself a new name and made the dragon-banner his new royal standard.
Merlin closed his eyes for a moment and let out a small sigh. The sight of the banners reminded him of his dream. It wasn't the first time he had that dream. The vision of the two dragons and the sword in the stone had been occasionally plaguing his dreams for several years now. As the matter of fact, the first time he had that vision was only shortly before Uther Pendragon's faithful battle against the Saxons. This vision wasn't like his usual ones, which were flashes and glimpses of real events that were yet to come true; this one was clearly symbolical and mysterious. The first time he saw it, he was confused and unable to figure out its meaning no matter how much he tried. He had no problems understanding the second half of the vision, but the meaning behind the dragons, their fight, and the red dragon's connection with the sword in the stone continued to elude him.
And then, like a divine revelation, the meaning behind the vision was suddenly made clear. The news spread across the country like wildfire: king Uther had achieved a miraculous victory against the Saxon hordes and pushed them back to the sea. Merlin was in London when the news reached him, and the rumour that followed them was that the king was heading to London to have himself crowned as the High King of Britain. Naturally, Merlin was interested in seeing who this king Uther was. At the very least, he had to be a capable and charismatic commander if he had managed to win against the overwhelming Saxon forces, something you couldn't really say for most warlords and dukes in Britain. Defeating the Saxons had already brought him some popularity among the people, and he would probably rally many more allies if he can keep winning and make use of the initiative he had gained by turning the tide of war in his favour. It was only natural for Merlin, who had spent the last 70 years or so supporting and helping countless different warlords and would-be kings in their quests to unite and rule Britain, to try to meet this aspiring young king who had just won the greatest military victory for the Britons in their long fight against the Saxons.
Ever since he placed the sword Caliburn in the stone outside of London, Merlin had been searching for a leader worthy of the magic sword and its miracle. He spent decades traveling across the length and breadth of Britain, from Cornwall to Clyde Rock, trying to find a man he'd deem capable and worthy of uniting and ruling the country. Decades of political manipulations, alliances with the wrong people, back-stabbings and scheming, using his magic to give a certain warlord an extra push and advantage over the opponents, all in hopes that one of them would turn out to be able to rally the people and bring peace to the country.
But each and every time, he would be disappointed. It never took him long to judge the character of a duke or a king he would ally himself with, and every time he could see that they were ruthless, power-hungry barbarians, many of them willing to sell their mothers for a few extra dominions. And every time, he'd ignore his better judgement and keep helping and advising them in hopes that they'd eventually become good kings and leaders worth following. He was only deceiving himself, of course, and he knew that. That's why he never took any one of them to the stone and had them challenge the sword of selection. Because he already knew that they'd fail to pull it out, and that would also kill his own hopes. Still, he kept going forward regardless, clinging to his hope.
When Uther Pendragon and his troops entered London triumphantly five days after the news first reached the city, Merlin was sure that his prayers had been answered. The battered but proud army was flying the red banner with a black dragon. Soldiers were cheering and shouting the name of their glorious leader: "Uther Pendragon".
Merlin felt excitement in his chest, the kind of which he hadn't felt since he put that sword in the stone all those years ago. His vision was finally clear to him: the red dragon symbolized the Britons and Uther, who flew the dragon banner as his royal standard. The white dragon were the Saxons, who usually flew white banners and painted their shields white. Thus, Uther Pendragon, as the victorious red dragon, was destined to pull the sword out of the stone and unite Britain. Merlin's visions always came true, and he was certain that his long quest was coming to an end. However, he didn't let his new found hope get the better of him. He did not need another disappointment, no matter how unlikely it was.
Merlin approached Uther after the coronation and was soon appointed as the king's chief advisor. While the two men quickly forged a strong friendship, Merlin wasn't as thrilled with their partnership as Uther was. Certainly, the young man was a talented general and a great warrior, there was no doubt about that. He was a good king, and his soldiers and subjects were loyal to him and respected him, but Merlin was aware that he wasn't the exact kind of man he was looking for. Too many imperfections, too many human weaknesses, and a hot head meant that, even though he held the title of the High King and ruled over much of the island, he couldn't unite all the people under his banner, or create a long-lasting legacy. For all his considerable strengths and talents, Uther was still a barbarian, whose great charisma only shined on the battlefield. Outside of it, he was just a particularly powerful and affluent warlord. Miles ahead of most others Merlin had encountered over the last few decades, yes, but still a barbarian. While he could always find a common topic of conversation with Uther and enjoyed the king's company during the hunts or feasts, a certain sense of disappointment haunted Merlin every time he talked with his king about matters of state, or when he thought of the sword in the stone.
He had actually taken Uther to the stone about a year after the coronation in London, more out of curiosity than anything else. The sword had a part of his mind and soul in it, so even if Merlin himself wasn't 100% sure of his choice, the sword would definitely make only the right choice. As expected, Uther failed to pull the sword out. He reacted as all men in power would: at first he was in denial, then he was angry, and in the end he decided that he didn't care.
"I don't need a magical sword to tell me if I'm the true king or not. I'll rule Britain either way. You can keep you precious sword."
Merlin just shrugged his shoulders and said nothing. He wasn't intending to leave Uther's side just yet. He still believed that his vision would come true. They always did.
(...)
A breeze of cold air snapped Merlin out of his thoughts. The morning was unusually cold for this time of year, and he was standing by the open window in nothing but a nightgown; a sure way to catch a cold. He closed the window, and with the last gaze before turning away he saw a lone rider approaching the castle by the main road.
'Must be a messenger for the king. Too bad the king's not here.'
In fact, it wasn't just the king who was absent. The emptiness of the castle was almost tangible as Merlin walked down the hallway and descended the stairs that were leading to the main hall. After he got dressed, he realised he was in fact famished, having skipped dinner last night, and decided to scavenge for any food that might have been left over in the main hall or in the kitchen. He didn't meet a single soul along the way, which would normally be very unusual even for this early hour.
As he entered the main hall, a cloaked man stormed into the room through the main entrance, looking around intensely while trying to catch his breath. Just as Merlin was about to call him, the man turned in his direction and approached him.
"Sir Merlin, I've got a message for you from king Uther."
Merlin knitted his eye-brows a little, surprised at the news.
"A message for me?"
"Aye, sire. King Uther requests your presence at his war camp."
"Why didn't the king leave a message behind for me to join him as soon I return to the castle from my journey? Why is he requesting my presence this late?"
"I do not know, sire. He did not say the reason for your summoning, just that you are to take your...ehm, 'chemistry set' were the words he used... and ride hastily to his camp outside the castle of Terrabil. He has arranged for a change of horses to be carried out on the halfway point of your journey, at Glastenning*, and you are to ride day and night in order to join him as soon as possible."
"I see..." said Merlin, frowning further.
The king had set out on his campaign 10 days ago, taking every man he could find along with him, and marched tirelessly towards Cornwall all day and night. Merlin had returned a week ago from one of his journeys, only to find the castle empty and the king gone. While it was starting to get a bit boring, he enjoyed the unusual peace and quietness of the castle, and was mostly spending the lone days reading, sorting out the king's correspondence ( some of the letters from Uther's vassals and allies were over a month old! – the king really wasn't the most diligent and responsible person, that was for sure ), and gambling with the few guards that were left in the castle for minimal protection.
And suddenly, Uther wanted Merlin to join him on the front lines, and to take his equipment with him. Something strange was afoot, he could sense it.
He gave out a small sigh before talking to the messenger again.
"Very well. I need to make preparations first, so in the meantime make yourself useful and fetch me a horse from the stables. And pack the supplies for me as well. Thanks to you, I'm skipping breakfast."
"Very well, sire, I'll arrange for everything."
"Good. Where did you say the king had set up camp, again?"
"At Terrabil, sire. 20 miles west of Caer Uisc*."
"Right. Off you go, then."
The messenger bowed and ran out of the hall to make the needed preparations for Merlin's journey.
"Dear, dear, you always find a way to inconvenience me, don't you Uther?" Merlin sighed, shaking his head. After doing nothing for a week, this was quite a routine-breaker. A non-stop journey of over 140 miles; he could make it in two days if he forces the horses to their limits. Hopefully the animals will survive.
'Well, better get prepared.' he thought as he was climbing up the stairs and back to his room.
(...)
Merlin checked if the belt which kept the bag with his equipment attached to the saddle was tightened enough. After making sure everything else was in order, he climbed into the saddle, fixed his feet in the stirrups and took the reins. The horse he was provided with was a good one; a strong black steed, well fed and fresh, and apparently eager for a gallop. Merlin noticed that and grinned a little. What awaited this horse was more than just a good gallop – he had to cross quite a distance over the course of merely two days; such a journey was bound to take a huge toll on both the horse and its rider, but at least Merlin wasn't the one who'll have to do the running.
"After this journey, my friend, I think you'll have enough running for the next few months." he whispered into the horse's ear as the guards opened the castle gates.
"Go, boy!" Merlin shouted, forcing the horse into gallop. The animal responded instantly, letting out a brief but loud "neigh" before running through the castle gates, across the bridge over the defensive moat and down the road at full speed.
Fields, streams, forests and lonely cottages flew by Merlin's eyes in a haze of green, blue and brown. The horse slowed down from its high-speed gallop after a few miles, but it kept running at a considerable speed, in part due to Merlin's relentless use of reins that made the horse keep its pace for seven hours straight. After a short breather by a small lake, during which he pretty much annihilated his entire food supply for the journey while the horse kept drinking without a pause, he continued his trip and didn't stop until he reached Glastenning late in the evening. There he switched horses and immediately continued his journey, rather than resting in the town a bit. However, he had overestimated himself; fatigue caused by the long and exhausting journey finally caught up to him an hour after he left Glastenning and forced him to take a rest in the forest.
Taking off the boots to ease the pain in his legs, Merlin cursed Uther for forcing him to embark on this journey in the first place. He took a sip of wine from his small leather flask and gave out a long sigh. He wasn't grateful to his king for dragging him across half the country for such a ridiculous reason.
'Honestly, I never thought I'd see someone go to war over a woman. It's like those Greek poems, only much less epic and much more stupid.' he mused to himself.
Indeed, the military campaign that Uther Pendragon had initiated was caused by a woman. She wasn't just any woman, but of the rare kind that made men go crazy after her to the point where they were willing to gamble their entire kingdoms and the lives of their men in a game to win her for fair lady's name was Igraine, and she was the wife of Gorlois, Duke of Cornwall.
Gorlois was one of Uther's vassals and most trusted allies. Two lords had fought side-by-side for six years, ever since Uther achieved his great victory against the Saxons. Eight months ago, Uther was invited to the New Year's feast at Gorlois' castle of Tintagel. During the banquet the High King had laid his eyes on Gorlois' wife, lady Igraine, and not without reason, for she was elegant, noble, eloquent and gorgeous; it wasn't only Uther who was mesmerized by her beautiful emerald eyes. The king couldn't help himself; a strong desire to make this fair lady his own started to burn in his heart, and from that moment on, he was driven by this newly born passion.
Ever since that day, Uther and Gorlois were regular guests at each other's courts, mostly on Uther's initiative. Uther and Igraine spent lots of time together, and she soon fell in love with the handsome and dashing High King. However, while she didn't have any romantic feelings towards her much older husband, she was still loyal to him, for her nobility and pride didn't allow her to break a promise she gave to her husband when they married, even if the marriage was not of her own choice.
And then, two weeks ago, the secret relationship between the king and his ally's wife came to an abrupt end. A feast was being held at the castle Pendragon, and Gorlois and his wife were also present. Uther, who had grown very impatient in regards to his relationship with Igraine, had consumed one goblet of wine too many ( though, truth be told, so had just about everyone else at the feast ) and somehow his cheerful conversation with Gorlois turned into a bitter argument which ended with Uther unsubtly hinting that his vassal's wife wasn't completely loyal to him, but had instead given her heart to him. The awkward situation ended in Gorlois' fury, and he left the castle along with his retinue on the first light of the next day. Before he left, he declared his oath of allegiance to the High King void, and everyone sensed that a war between the king and his former ally was merely a matter of time.
It didn't take long for Uther to take action; two days after the quarrel he had already assembled his troops end set out on a forced march towards Gorlois' realm.
Merlin, who was absent when these unfortunate events took place, was angry at his king's rash decisions and inability to control his temper, but he was also angry at himself for not being there in the hour of need; if were he present at the feast he would have restrained his king and prevented all this from happening. He was extremely furious when he heard the reason as to why the king was absent and the castle empty when he returned from his trip.
And right now, he was playing Uther's lap dog, traveling day and night across the country to reach the king's camp as soon as possible, without even being told the reason why. Too exhausted to swear at his irresponsible king, Merlin leaned against a nearby tree and closed his eyes. Even if it's only for an hour, he needed some sleep.
(...)
The sun was setting when Merlin finally reached Uther's camp outside Terrabil. His horse was completely exhausted and looked like it could collapse at any moment, and Merlin himself wasn't in a much better condition either. His first order of business after getting past the guards was to find someone to take care of the horse and get some food and water. After he had taken care of his stomach and the animal, he started to search for the king. He found him in the front lines, talking to the commander of the archers.
Terrabil castle was a formidable fort, situated on an isle at the confluence of two rivers flowing from the south. It was located along the main road leading into Cornwall, and as such served both as an important trading post and a strategic military point that effectively controlled the main point of entry into the realm. Vast open moorlands stretched for many miles to the south of Terrabil and to the north lay a huge swamp, forcing any invading forces to take a long and exhaustive roundabout way if they wanted to get into Cornwall by avoiding the fort. To put it simply, Terrabil was the key to Cornwall, which is why Uther had little choice but to lay siege on the castle if he wanted to win this war.
The field to the east of the castle gates was turned from a beautiful green meadow into a huge military camp, full of tents, shacks, war machinery and the area nearest to the castle was criss-crossed with trenches and stockades. Several ballistae and onagers were firing their missiles at the castle. Wave after wave of flaming arrows was launched at the wooden ramparts and the castle gates, but the defenders kept putting out the fires before they could do serious damage to the castle defences.
However, despite the defenders' best efforts, after five days of siege the combined might of Uther's siege artillery and archers was taking a visible toll on the fortifications of Terrabil. Gorlois' men had destroyed the wooden bridge over the river that served as the main barrier for the attacking army, but Uther had ordered a construction of a mole. The troops kept bringing in dirt and rocks to bridge the wild stream, unfazed by the enemy arrows as they constructed a protective canopy out of their shields. By the time Merlin had arrived to the battlefield, the mole was only a few feet away from the castle gates.
But even though the siege was going in his favour, Uther did not seem to be particularly happy when Merlin found him. As he was approaching the king from behind, he couldn't see his face, but his body language and the tone of his voice were those of the somewhat irritated and perturbed man.
"What's the trouble, old friend?" he said, slapping his king on the back as hard as he could. It was a little revenge on his friend for dragging him all the way here without bothering to at least tell him why. He knew it was petty, but he enjoyed it nontheless.
"What-a...?" shouted Uther, greately startled by Merlin's "greeting". He had already reached for his sword, but stopped himself when he recognised his trusted friend.
"Oh, it's you Merlin. Thank God you're here. I need you."
"I'm sure you do, but couldn't you have at least told your messenger why is it that I had to suddenly ride across half the country, nearly killing both my horses?"
"Now, now, don't be angry. Do you think I'd call for you if it wasn't very important?"
"It wouldn't surprise me at all, really." Merlin muttered to himself.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, nothing."
Uther was a capable, strong king and a good friend, but he occasionaly had bursts of foolishness ( one of which caused this entire conflict with Gorlois ) and great immaturity. Although it was unlikely to happen in this situation, he often tormented Merlin with requests one could only deem pointless or childish. They weren't to Uther, of course, and he often gave the impression he wasn't even aware that what he was asking of his friend was weird or stupid.
"You look exhausted Merlin. Let's get away from here and get something to eat. And drink."
"I already ate. It was the first thing I did when I got here." Merlin did not hesitate to make it clear where his priorities lied. Whatever it was that king wanted of him, it wasn't on the top of the list. "But I won't refuse a drink."
"Excellent. I can always count on you in that regard. Let's go, then."
A few minutes later Merlin and Uther were sitting comfortably in the king's tent and were sipping some wine. Uther had his guards and servants leave and the two men were left alone to their devices. After some hesitation, Uther spoke:
"I guess it's time I tell you why I sent for you."
"I'd say that time was when you dispatched your messenger, but that's beside the point. So, what's the issue here? Why did I have to bring my equipment with me? You now I'm not gonna blow any holes in that castle's walls for you, so why have me bring it along?"
"I know, I know", said Uther, sighing. His good mood from a few moments ago seemed to have vanished. The king was uneasy, clearly hesitant to tell Merlin what the reason for his summoning was.
"Come on, man, speak!"
"You'll get mad at me."
"I'm already mad at you for dragging me all the way here, while I should have been lazing around your castle, sleeping 'till noon, drinking your ale and robbing your guards of their last treasures." Merlin replied cheerfully, taking another sip. "And besides, it wouldn't be the first time you've bothered me with some foolishness of yours."
"This time it's different."
"How so?"
"It's because of... her."
Merlin inadvertently rolled his eyes. Uther didn't seem to notice.
"Her? You mean Lady Igraine?"
"Yes"
"The woman over whom you started this whole bloody mess?"
"Yes" Uther replied, somewhat agitated by Merlin's choice of words.
"The same woman whose husband you insulted and made angry two weeks ago, and made a mortal enemy out of one of your most trusted and most powerful allies?"
"Yes, I know!" The king was now visibly upset.
Merlin wanted to continue like this but he restrained himself and stopped. Uther knew he was right and Merin could see that. His loyal friend and advisor had been helping him expand and strengthen his kingdom for many years now, and he blew lots of that effort into smoke in a single night. And all that because he couldn't control his drinking.
"So what do you want from me?" Merlin asked after a brief silence.
"Gorlois is in that castle right now, leading his men. But Igraine isn't with him."
"Where is she, then?"
"After they returned to Cornwall from my castle ten days ago Gorlois stayed in Terrabil to prepare the defences, while Igraine was sent to the castle of Tintagel at the coast. My spies told me that."
"So what's the problem? Once you've sacked Terrabil and killed Gorlois, all you have to do is to proceed to Tintagel and Igraine is all yours."
"I wish it were that simple." Uther said, frowning.
"What do you mean?"
"First of all, Tintagel is impregnable unless you cut it off from the sea as well as the land. And I don't have any ships.
Secondly, even if we were to breach the castle, Gorlois must have given orders to his men to make sure Igraine dies before I can take her. He said something like that when he left, and I have no doubt he'd sooner kill her with his own hands rather than let me have her."
"So what do you want me to do?"
Uther emptied his cup and started to walk around the tent.
"I want her Merlin. I've never been so passionate about a woman in my whole life."
Merlin said nothing and just stared at his reflection in the wine.
"I can't let Gorlois have her. Not after coming this far. I'd look like a weak fool in the eyes of the entire kingdom if I were to just leave now."
"So how do you plan to get her? You said yourself that Tintagel is impregnable. How do you intend to snatch her away?"
"That's what I need you for. I already have an idea."
"Let's hear it then."
"I want to personally infiltrate Tintagel."
"What? How? What do you plan to accomplish?"
'And what do I have to do with it?' was what he also wanted to ask, but he already had a gut feeling about that.
"I want Igraine. Maybe I can take her with me, maybe not, but I want to spend at least one night with her."
"But how do you plan to get past the guards? Not to mention spend the entire night there, with the Duke's wife, without anyone noticing?"
"It's simple really; I need you to disguise me as Gorlois with your magic."
Merlin already had a feeling something like this was coming. Uther was expecting his friend to attack or mock him for his request, but to his surprise, Merlin remained silent and absorbed in his thoughts. He was staring blankly at his cup, his mind wandering elsewhere. Having known him for six years, Uther knew that the wizard was contemplating a much deeper and more complex scheme than assisting his king in his love quest. Indeed, what haunted Merlin's mind at the moment was an old dream, and an even older journey. Finally, he snapped from his thoughts and started to speak slowly:
"Uther, do you remember the dream I told you about six years ago, when you became the High King?"
"The one about the dragons and the sword in the stone? Sure I do. What of it?"
"Do you also remember the prophecy I made in regards to that dream?"
"That I was destined to pull the sword out and rule Britain? Yeah, I remember that too." The king grinned a little. "Still disappointed it didn't work out quite the way you thought it would? No need to be ashamed, everybody makes mistakes, prophets are no exceptions."
"True, but I don't think my prophecy was completely wrong. My visions always come true, I'm sure this one will too. My dream wasn't wrong, what was wrong must have been my interpretation of it."
"What do you mean?"
"The red and the white dragon, the sword... I thought you were the red dragon from my dream, but I was wrong about that. However, I firmly believe that a person of Pendragon blood is destined to pull out that sword. Even if you failed, one of your heirs must succeed."
"I believe you, my friend, and I hope your words come true. But what does that have to do with my wish?"
Merlin frowned, took a sip from his cup and put it down on the small table in front of him. This wasn't the first time he was to use his magic to help an ambitious warlord with their wishes. He had been doing so ever since a certain Roman general approached him. However, this time it was different. This time, he felt, he could actually do something worthwhile. He continued:
"I have a feeling about this whole thing."
"What kind of feeling?"
Merlin was still hesitant to spill the beans. He rubbed his fingers against his temples.
"If I help you, and you have your night with Igraine, will you promise me one thing?"
"Whatever you want, my friend. A night with her is more valuable to me than my whole kingdom."
Biting his tongue to refrain from commenting on the foolishness of such a sentiment, Merlin said:
"Should you and Igraine conceive a child on that night, promise me you'll make that child your successor."
Uther stopped walking around the room and got back into his seat. He was frowning too.
"I don't mind, on the contrary, but you do know that Igraine is barren? She hasn't been able to bear children ever since the birth of her first and only child, her daughter. Gorlois has been unhappy about that for years – he reproached her for failing to provide him with an heir. She told me that."
"I will take care of that. You just promise me."
"Very well, Merlin." Uther said, his mood suddenly greatly improved. The prospect of Igraine, the woman of his dreams, giving birth to his successor must have pleased him almost as much as Merlin's willingness to assist him in getting to spend the night with her. "I give you my word as the king, that if a child is conceived on my night with Igraine, I shall make him an heir to the throne of Britain."
"Then it is settled." Merlin replied. "I shall make the neccessary preparations."
"Do it, and make it quick. Unfortunately, we've been unable to completely encircle the castle. There's still plenty of space for the defenders to escape, and should Gorlois retreat to Tintagel before we get there, our plan is doomed to failure."
"It won't take long, I just have to get my... 'chemistry set'."
"Ah, so he told you I said that? Pretty good, huh?"
"My king, your humour is too much for the common mind to comprehend and appreciate."
"I know you're mocking me, Merlin. Come on, off you go!"
"Yes, sire."
Merlin gave a small bow and left the king's tent.
(...)
In the middle of the night, two riders left the camp of Uther Pendragon's army, heading south. After reaching the edge of the moor, they turned west and soon disappeared into the thick forests of Cornwall. At dawn, Uther's army launched a direct assault on the castle, as per king's orders. The scouts reported that reinforcements were coming to aid Gorlois in his defence of Terrabil, and Uther couldn't afford to waste any more time taking the fortress. Besides, even if the attack is unsucessful it would at least serve as a distraction for Gorlois, allowing Uther and Merlin to reach Tintagel safely, not having to worry about Igraine's real husband suddenly showing up.
The castle of Tintagel lay 30 miles to the west of Terrabil as the crow flies. The ground distance that the two riders had to cover was almost two times longer. Forcing their horses to run for hours on end, they managed to complete their journey in a day. As the dawn of the next day approached they found themselves on the edge of a forest only a mile away from their destination.
"Time to stop for a moment my king." Merlin said and dismounted. Uther followed suit.
Merlin took the bag with his equipment off his horse and unpacked its contents on the ground in front of Uther, who had seated himself on a nearby log. The sight of numerous bottles filled with liquid, teeth, horns, hair and various strange instruments amused Uther. He always admired his friend's unique talent, and no magic trick was too simple to amuse him.
"So, what are you planning to do?" he asked his wizard.
"Well, thanks to my blood, I can shape-shift as I please. Transforming you, however, will be a much more difficult task. If it's only for an hour or so, I could do it with no extra help. But to turn you into Gorlois for a whole day requires a catalyst. I need something to channel and bind my power inside your body. Here, drink this." Merlin said, giving Uther a small bottle filled with crimson red fluid.
Uther took a sip and started coughing violently immediately after swallowing it. Merlin quickly took the bottle back to prevent him from spilling the rest of the liquid on the ground.
"Be careful! That stuff is incredibly rare and difficult to get, you know!"
"What the hell was that?! I thought it will burn through my throat!"
Merlin grinned a little.
"Dragon blood."
"What?!"
But Merlin had already proceeded to the second phase of this "ritual". He took out a huge tooth out of a leather purse and made a deep cut on the palm of his right hand.
"What the hell are you doing?" Uther asked, bewildered.
"I'm going to give the potential future heir of yours a little gift. I'll make the name Pendragon into something more substantial than just a fancy title you took after your victory. Give me your right hand." Merlin said, not letting go of the tooth. Uther could already guess what kind of tooth it was. He held out his hand hesitantly.
Merlin grabbed it and quickly made a long cut on the palm with the tooth, just like he had on his own hand. Blood covered the entire palm of his hand in a second.
"Gha...!"
"Shut up now and take my hand!" said Merlin, reaching with his right hand, in which he was now holding the dragon's tooth.
As soon as Uther took his hand, Merlin started to perform his magic. He was muttering strange and incomprehensible words with great speed, and the only word Uther managed to catch from the long incantations was "draco". Their blood mixed as they kept holding each other's hands, and after a minute, the ritual was over. Uther could see that the wound on his arm had healed, as if it was never there to begin with. Merlin's hand, though, was still bleeding, so he bandaged it with some cloth.
"Why is your hand..." Uther started, but the intense pain in his head prevented him from finishing the sentence.
"Easy now. The transformation is complete, but you'll continue feeling the after-effects for a few more hours. We'll use that – we'll deceive the guards at the castle by saying that you've fallen sick during the siege and have returned to Tintagel to rest until you get better. I am one of your soldiers, and there's no one else accompanying you because you didn't want to weaken the defences at Terrabil by taking away any more troops. Got all that?"
"Hmmm" Uther nodded. His vision was blurry.
"Good. Dawn is breaking, and we're only a mile away from Tintagel. It means you have plenty of time to spend with your beloved Igraine, but by the next dawn, we have to be out of the castle, or else our lives are forfeit. I can use my powers to deceive the guards while you spend time with Igraine, but if they see Uther Pendragon in their lord's castle, not even my hypnosis would be enought to stop the from chopping our heads off. Understand?"
"Y-yes."
"Don't worry, I'll take care of everything. You just stay in Gorlois' chambers and play sick. Enjoy your night with the woman of your dreams and be ready to leave quickly in the morning. Now, let's go, my king! Your beloved Igraine waits for you!"
Merlin packed his equipment and the two mounted their horses again.
A quick jerk of the reins forced the animals into gallop. The tall grass that covered the field in front of them was shaking under the mild morning wind. The sun was rising behind their backs, its warm yellow light illuminating the ripply surface of the sea and the great fortified castle on the cliff – Tintagel.
Author's notes:
- Glastenning = Glastonbury
Caer Uisc = Exeter
It is my wish to make this fic as historically accurate as possible, and since I'm going to rape history soon enough with the concepts of chivalry ( that was invented during the High middle ages, probably around 11th/12th century ), I might as well minimize damage elsewhere, so I'm trying to use the names these places could/would have had before the Saxons took over the entire country.
- This chapter involved a lot of exposition, backstories and narration, and very little plot. Unfortunately, this chapter is pretty important in the grander scheme of things ( especially for Merlin's character ) and I couldn't just skip it and go straight to Arturia's birth. Writing all those scenes that were narrated would have made this chapter at least three times longer, and that was something I didn't want to do. This is primarily a Saber-centric story, and Merlin will play a large role as it is. I can't write his entire life-story just to avoid expository narration; in that case I might as well make a whole fic just for him.
But enough of my rambling. This chapter took me a while to publish. It was a real bitch to write and I also had college-related business, so sorry for having to wait two whole weeks. Hopefully the next chapter won't take as much time. I won't spoil anything but you can expect moe-Morgan to make an appearance.