Chapter 12: The Merlin Factor


"Merlin...if only you were at my side, my old friend, to give me courage. There are no war tricks that will fool Mordred and Morgana. More than I ever did, I need you now. Where are you, Merlin?"

Arthur calling for Merlin in the movie Excalibur.

Arthur meets his true love Guinevere and without Merlin's advice, he makes an important future decision. Meanwhile, a stranger manipulates a foolish witch's hatred for Merlin in order to put into motion a future ally of Arthur's.


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Arthur had removed his war helmet as he stood upon the stout Legion built battlement and watched as Mordred's ragtag force of warriors limped their way back into the city. "They ran straight into an ambush milord," a voice softly said from the darkness and the bear was startled enough by the intruder's unseen presence to reach for his sword. He relaxed as the elderly weasel slipped from out from the shadows. "Mordred is courageous enough, but he is too brash. You should have led the pursuit instead. I'm sure you would have seen the ambush."

"I doubt that Henry, it seems that Aldroen is one step ahead of us this time."

"He is a sly one for being a ram," the spy agreed and then he leaned against the stone wall. "You do know that Mordred is a danger to you? He wants the kingship and will kill you for it, if he thought it would gain him the throne. Your father would have…"

"My father was ruthless and feared, that was why he died and no one mourned his passing. No, Mordred has a greater claim to the throne then I have and besides, who would want a bastard like me as a king?"

"My father would stand with you if you chose to claim the crown," a familiar female voice answered his question. Arthur quickly turned to see that a she bear stood at the top of the stairs. She was dressed in a simple light blue tunic over which a flaxen gown like peplos was pinned at her shoulders with brass broaches and the simple dress was belted with a plain brown woven hemp sash. A green and red tartan woolen plaid palla was tightly pulled across her very famine curves in an attempt to keep the evening's chill at bay. He stared at her at first and then blinked in surprise while he looked her over. Her fur was a yellow-brown near her muzzle and ran towards a more darker brown by her paws. She did not wear one of those silly hennin or pointed hats, that had briefly been in fashion, but instead only wore a simple lace veil over her ears.

"I was told that you were here," he greeted her as she stepped next to him. "I am sorry I did not seek you out earlier, but circumstances…"

"Are you talking to yourself Wart?" she asked with a giggle.

Startled by her question, Arthur looked around only to realize that the weasel had disappeared like a ghost into the surrounding shadowy darkness. "It seems my companion has abandoned me," he sighed. "And please don't call me Wart!"

"You will always be my little Wart! You never complained before when I called you that, especially when we were teenagers in the orchard's high grass."

"There is much we did under those old apple trees which I won't complain about, but now we are much older and…"

"And not so free with ourselves," she finished his sentence.

He gave her a chuckle, before he continued, "As for your father, I doubt he would stand with me if he only knew about the improper advances I made towards his daughter under those trees."

"Advances?" She giggled as she took his arm and leaned against him. He sniffed her familiar scent and she still smelled like the woods of home. "As I recall my dear Wart, you were the shy one and I was the one who made those improper advances."

"I've missed you Guinevere," he huskily sighed as she put her head upon his shoulder. "Hell, I miss being young and carefree back in that orchard!"

"Well you've grown up to become a mighty warlord and I have taken up embroidery."

"You do embroidery now? How exciting that must be?" he sarcastically laughed. She gave him a shove with her elbow in response. "So does that mean you have given up archery?"

"I sneak out and practice with Meredith when she visits with her father Fergus from DunBroch. That she bear is still as headstrong as she was when we were young and also remains unmarried. It seems that she hasn't found a suitable suitor ever since that bungled and ill-fated clan challenge for her paw her parents held when she was younger. "

Arthur chuckled as he remembered the pretty, but very boisterous, reddish brown furred bear from the highlands and her heavily accented brogue.

"Now all I do every day is just sit around with my friends and work on a tapestry. It's a grand hanging and is all about your victory over the sea boars at the Woods of Celidon. Yes, we all just sit around with our needles and thread, while we gossip about how dashingly handsome Arthur is and wonder why such a strapping bear has never married?"

"Because this strapping bear has fallen in love with the wrong lady. Someone who is far above his station in life, too good…"

"Shut up Wart and kiss me."

"As you command milady," he whispered as he took her in his arms and they kissed.

"By all the gods, are you two at it again?" Mordred mockingly challenged them with a snort as he entered the courtyard below. The other bear's chainmail was stained red with blood and his shield showed nicks from ax blows, proving that he was in battle. "You two should know that there is a nearby orchard you can hide in just like when we were cubs!"

"Ah, ther you are my dear Mordred! So, where is Aldroen's head?" Guinevere sarcastically replied in a faux sweet tone. "You boasted to me that you would bring back the ram's head by his horns."

"Alas my dear lady, his head is still attached to his cowardly body. You should have been there Arthur! Surely we would have caught the scoundrel if the great Arthur was within our ranks or so that is what some of the warriors whispered to each other as we returned."

"I doubt that!" Arthur grunted. "Let me guess, he had his rams form a shield wall on the bridge across the river?" He looked the other male bear over again and shook his head slightly because although his cousin Mordred was smaller and thinner, he had the unique ability to "turn a phrase like a fox" as the commoners would say. The bear was more than capable of verbally soothing anyone who disagreed with him, using logic to win his disagreements instead of the sword and that was a talent long lost with many of the others he knew. Only the priestly King Guethelin, the Lady of the Lake, and Merlin had that talent, it was one which he wished that he possessed. Sure he knew that he could inspire others not in his verbal wit, but his strong sword arm.

"Aye, we had no choice but try to batter our way across the bridge," Mordred answered.

"True cousin, the next crossing was way too far downstream," Arthur agreed as he began to walk down the stairs. Guinevere only tightened her grip on his arm as she joined him. "King Aldroen is a slippery one and I am sure that he has more planned then just Lot's murder and the butchering of the fox clans. I've been told that he has an alliance with the boars along the coast and I fear good King Maelgwn's lands are in peril."

"What about the wall?" Mordred asked as he stepped next to his rival's side as they continued towards the great hall. "Now that Lot is dead, do you think the northern clans will invade?"

"I'm sure that the pipes are already wailing, calling the clans down from the mountains. We must marshal all the forces we can to meet the enemy. I will send one of King Guethelin's bucks to the bear clans calling them to meet in the sacred grove at Kalard. It is past time for the House of Arth to have a king upon its throne."

Mordred turned quickly towards Arthur and his paw reached towards his blade.

"Promise me that you will keep the clans in your heart and do what is right by them and not yourself," Arthur continued. "Leaders should serve those they lead and not the other way around."

"What are you saying?"

"Arthur, just what are you telling us?" Guinevere interjected as her grip tightened on his arm.

"I am saying that I will stand with you Mordred when you claim the crown."

"Arthur…" Mordred began.

"No, good Cai is gone and we are at a crises. I fear that we will have to battle for our very lives and that of our followers, for that reason alone the House of Arth needs its king. I cannot lead them, too many of the clan leaders won't follow a bastard on the throne and besides you…"

"But…" Guinevere started, but then she hung her head and whispered. "Have you spoken with Merlin about this?"

"Enough of this talk!" the bear in the grand looking armor growled as he picked up his pace towards the great hall and the awaiting kings. "We have much to do and little time left to do it. I fear that we face an invasion greater than even the Great Conspiracy which the Legionnaires defeated over a hundred years ago. As for Merlin, he is never around when I want him!"

"He just appears when you need him," Guinevere sighed as she ran to catch up with the two male bears.


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The elderly fat badger threw another pawful of sage onto the fire, filling the cavern with its scented whitish smoke. She mumbled in the old language of the druids, chanting and calling upon the spirits of those ancient forgotten gods which existed before the coming of the Legionnaires. She moaned and screamed in her prayers as he closed her eyes and chanted louder and louder. Then her ears twitched as she heard something fall into the fire and she quickly glanced at the flames, just as there was a popping sound and an explosion, followed by a thick orange smoke which quickly filled the cavern. Gasping from the very acrid smelling haze, she stumbled into the oak woods outside. Something emerged from the billowing smoke, a figure wrapped in a black cloak.

"Madam Mim," the creature spoke with an amused tone in his voice. "Why have you summoned me?"

The badger fell onto her knees and lowered her muzzle down upon the moss covered earth. "Milord, I…I…this has never happened before?" she mumbled in fear. "Who are you?"

"You have summoned me Witch! Did you not call for Morrígu?"

"But Morrígu is a goddess? Are you not a male?"

A reddish tail gave a wagging flick in an almost feline manner from behind the creature in the black cloak and his movements were almost fox like. "I can come either as a goddess or as god, who are you to judge what manner that I show myself to you, mortal?"

The witch ground her muzzle back into the moss and whimpered.

"Come Mim, why have you called me?"

"Tis the wizard Merlin!" she cried out. "He has insulted me again. He called me a charlatan in public!"

"So witch, are you telling me you have no mystical powers? Surely no mere mortal could summon me like you did without true hidden black magic!"

"Will you give me more powers, enough to challenge and defeat Merlin in a mystical battle?"

"Then summon the old goat to battle, I will give you what powers you will need when the time comes. But, Merlin must die!" the figure growled. A reddish orange paw reached inside the cloak and then tossed a bag of old gold and silver coins onto the moss in front of the witch's face. "Hire the followers of Anubis to slay him and then the name Mim will be remembered above that of Merlin!"

Mim seized the bundle and glanced up as the hooded figure stepped back into the cavern. When he disappeared, she cautiously crept back inside to look around and gave a sinister grin when she realized that is was empty. Morrígu had come and gave her what she needed to destroy Merlin, along with the promise she would be remembered for doing so. Shoving the money into her small bundle of belongings, she made plans to take a ship south to Londinium the next morning.

Days later, far to the south of Mim's cave and in the fog choked city of Londinium, the sounds of the cathedral's bells rang the late hour. Inside the sanctuary, a handsome chestnut colored young stallion dressed in silvery shinning scale mail knelt praying before the altar of the Lion and the Lamb. He held a sword in his hoofs and touched its hilt to the tuft of blond mane which covered his forehead. At first, the knight didn't hear the figure in the dark cloak as it entered into the room, but he tensed and prepared to grip the sword to fend off any attack. "I don't want to draw blood in this holy place!" he called out.

"No my lord knight, I do not come in malice but with news from the north."

"The north is not of my concern."

"Not even if the Children of Anubis have interest in it? The witch Mim has hired the slayers to murder the wizard Merlin, even as the war drums beat for those who would bring down Arthur."

"Both the witch and the wizard should face the purifying and holy flames of the church for their dark magic, as for Arthur…"

"Is it not said that gallant Sagramor is the church's champion and its defender?" the figure suddenly challenged him. The horse saw a reddish orange tail slightly wag, so the intruder was a fox. "Will not stop the devil's children from their dark deeds?" With that the figure turned and swiftly walked towards the narthex. "Alas then all tis lost for justice in this land!"

"Wait!" Sagramor cried out as he climbed to his feet and rushed after what he thought was a fox. By the time he had reached the door, the figure had vanished. Throwing the door open he looked at the two guards standing there. "Where did the fox go?"

"Milord, no one came past us?" the other armored stallion answered with a salute. "You have been alone in the church as ordered."

Sagramor looked down the streets and then back inside at the sanctuary. He slammed his sword into its sheath. "Summon the company's officers. We have a mission in the north."

Up in the belfry, the figure in the black hooded cloak wound up his climbing rope as he watched the warriors below. Without thinking, he reached up and pulled at his hood so he could itch one of his long ears.

He didn't see the other cloaked figure hidden in the shadows behind him, but his sensitive nose caught a whiff of the unwashed body and his ears heard the faint creak of the boards. With a quick hop of his powerful legs, he leapt backwards and away from the assassin's curved blade. His bouncing caused his hood to slip off and his large reddish orange ears shot erect.

"What are you?" the jackal muttered in surprise as he raised his blade again. "How do you know about us and why did you tell the bear we are going north?"

"Questions…questions…such questions! I guess I beat Mim southward with her job offer and that won't do at all, I really need to plan better in the future and in the past." the long eared creature chuckled as he stepped back towards an opening on the platform. Above him were the church's bells and behind him was a gap for the bell ropes that led stories down to the bottom of the cathedral. "I also think I should have brought a weapon."

Confident that his strange prey was trapped, the assassin lunged forward and swung his poisoned blade only to only find his victim had leaped from the platform and now gripped onto one of the bell ropes. The bell above rang out loudly from the weight. Twisting, the long eared fox looking creature swung back towards the jackal and leapt over his head, landing behind him. The jackal quickly turned, but he was too late as a strong foot kicked him in his back and caused him to fall forward into the opening. Wildly flailing, the assassin plunged downward and with a sickening thud, hit the hard stone floor below.

The fox looking creature watched as the jackal fell to his death. "Damn, that wasn't supposed to happen!" he cursed to himself as he looked around in panic. Between the bell tolling and then the jackal falling, there was no way down out of the tower now without being caught by the soldiers below. He looked over toward the river, which ran alongside the cathedral, and shrugged before he got a running start and bound out towards the water.

Sagramor heard the bell's toll and ran through a side door into the cathedral's ringing chamber. He looked upwards towards the belfry and saw that someone was falling towards him. The stallion leaped back just in time to avoid being hit by the falling body. After glancing at the bloody inert body, he drew his sword as he tossed open the cathedral doors and rushed outside and past the guards, pausing at the edge of the river. He had seen the figure in the black cloak diving from the tower, but he looked around in confusion because there was no one in the water and there was not even a ripple in the slow moving river which indicated that someone had landed in the river. Quickly he looked back up at the tower, to see if the figure might have clung onto something on his way down, but the hooded figure was once again just gone!


A peplos was a tunic style dress and a palla is a type of mantle, both were worn by Roman women of wealth and the style would have still been popular with Romano-British society.

The battle in the Woods of Celidon was Arthur's seventh victory.

Does anyone know which Disney movie Meredith of DunBroch is from?

The Sacred Grove of Kalard is made up for the story, but the ancient druids worshiped in such oak groves. In year 60 CE, the Roman governor Suetonius attempted to destroy the druids and ordered an attack against their center of power on the island of Anglesey. His soldiers massacured the druids, despoiled their shrines and cut down their holy oak trees. Druidism survived and later merged with early Christianity making the Celtic Church distinctly different then the Roman Catholic Church.

The Great Conspiracy or the Barbarian Conspiracy, started in the winter of 367 when the garrison along Hadrian's Wall rebelled and joined with the Attacotti , Scoti, Picts, Saxons, and some local troops in despoiling much of Roman controlled northern and western Britain. The marauders were brought to heal by reinforcements led by Flavius Theodosius in 368.

What would an Arthurian tale be without the Mad Madam Mim and her witchery?

Morrígu or The Morrígan, is an ancient Irish goddess mainly associated with war and fate, and she is often interpreted as a "war goddess". She is one of the sacred three sisters called the three Morrígna.

Sir Sagramor in the Arthurian Lancelot-Grail Cycle is the son of the King of Hungary and the daughter of the Eastern Roman Emperor. He was considered virtuous, but hot-tempered, and would go into a battle rage.

Londinium is just another name for London. The quickest route to travel to northern England during the Romano-British era would have been by sea, but this was also very dangerous because of Saxon, Angle, and Frisian raiders prowled the coast. The legions had built a stone road from London to York now called Ermine Street ("Earninga Straete") or the Old North Road, the Roman name for the road has been forgotten. By land, it still would take several weeks for an army to march to York. However, the last Anglo-Saxon king, Harold Godwinson, led his army from London through York to Stamford Bridge in fewer days than expected and defeated the Norse King Harald Sigurdsson. The notorious 18th-century highwayman Dick Turpin was reputed to have ridden the same route in less than a day on his faithful mare, Black Bess.