Mordred's mind was racing as he hurried away from the Cauldron of Arianroed and along the gorge. However, he had pushed all thoughts to the back of his mind and focussed on the matter in hand - to apprehend Gwen before she joined with Morgana.
He was surprised at the speed with which she had made her escape. In the few moments he had tarried to exchange words with Arthur, Gwen had managed to slip from sight. The ground within the gorge was rocky so no tracks were visible nor any other signs that someone had passed by recently.
He jogged along, looking right and left. When he realized that there would be no conventional trail to follow, he stopped and caught his breath. He closed his eyes and channelled his Druid powers to read the area around him. At first he sensed no other living being - the gorge and this whole area were indeed godforsaken, he thought. He drew in a breath and focused and once again searched with his mind, reaching out further than he had previously done.
Now from far behind him back at the Cauldron he was able to pick up the life-signs of King Arthur and Merlin. He frowned and cast around for The Dolma but could not feel her. He shrugged. Perhaps she had rushed off immediately after his own departure since she had been unable to break the enchantment on Gwen. That would explain her abscense, he decided. He concentrated instead on the area in front of him, and was rewarded quickly when he felt the rapid panicked aura that Gwen was emitting as she fled.
He broke into a run in the direction that his senses drew him and within five minutes or so caught sight of a flash of turquoise. Gwen was climbing doggedly over boulders and up the side of the gorge. Her flight was somewhat hampered by the long satin dress that she wore. She had bunched the skirt of it over her arm which gave her legs a little more freedom of movement, but the tight bodice and heavy fabric made the going slow. Without too much effort, Mordred caught up with her. She was half way up the wall of the gorge when he called to her from the valley floor, "My Lady, In the name of The King, I command you to stop!"
Gwen whirled around and glared down at him from atop a boulder, "Or you'll do what?" she sneered and then carried on with her ascent.
"Your Majesty, I must insist!" he shouted with a little more authority, "If you do not come willingly then I must warn you that I will use force. You must return with me to Camelot."
"Go to hell!" snarled Gwen. She had stopped again, but this time she had picked up an impressively sized rock and with two hands hurled it down the rock face at Mordred. He aim was alarmingly good and he had to skitter backward to avoid being hit.
"Gwen - please!" he pleaded as she continued to climb, "See sense - there is nothing for you in this place - come back to Camelot with me now and I am sure that the King will show understanding and mercy."
Gwen just laughed derisively and shook her head as she continued to climb. Realizing that his words made no impact, Mordred rushed forward and began to clamber up after her. In his light armour he was much better suited to the climb and was gaining on her quickly. However, Gwen was still much higher than he was, and upon realizing that he was almost upon her stopped and began to rain down a barrage of rocks. He had no choice but to shelter from the onslaught and clamber back down off the cliff wall before something hit him.
Back on the valley floor, Mordred's temper was beginning to fray. "My Lady, this is my last warning. If you do not heed it then I shall be compelled to use force to restrain you."
Gwen stood on an outcrop of rock just a few feet from the top of the gorge. Two more steps and she would be lost to him. Secure of her escape, she stopped and looked down at him far below. "Just go home, little Knight" she sneered, "I would rather perish here in this place than return to that Kingdom and that man - they are both rotten to the core and will only be cleansed when Morgana returns to power."
With no other option, Mordred decided to use his magic to stop her. He risked Arthur finding out his secret if he succeeded in getting Gwen into his custody and back to Camelot, but he decided to address that problem later on. He sighed deeply and looked at the ground and raised his palm in her direction.
Gwen stopped her tirade and looked down at him. At first there was a hint of mirth on her face but it quickly morphed into confusion when he raised his head and looked directly at her with golden glowing eyes. She was transfixed by them and began to feel her limbs become unbearably heavy. Moments before her legs gave out and she fell to the ground, her concentration was drawn away from Mordred by a small fall of shingle just above her head. She looked up to see Morgana standing on the clifftop. As soon as she looked away from Mordred, the hypnotic spell was broken and she could move her limbs freely.
"Gwen - hands...now!" commanded Morgana through gritted teeth. Gwen raised her arms and squeaked a little in alarm when Morgana lifted her bodily with surprising strength from the rocky outcrop on which she stood to join her on the clifftop. "Get behind me", commanded Morgana, never once taking her eyes from the Knight in the valley below.
Mordred cursed when Morgana appeared and the Queen suddenly disappeared from view behind her. He took a step backward and gathered his thoughts before bringing himself up to his full height.
"Hand over the Queen of Camelot!" he called up to Morgana with as much ire and authority as he could muster.
Morgana laughed dryly, "Or you'll do what, little Knight?", she smirked. "I think that Gwen has made her alliegence crystal clear, don't you?"
Mordred was undeterred. "Very well", he said, "If you will not hand her over then I shall be obliged to take her by force, and you know that I can best you, Morgana."
The smirk disappeared from Morgana's face and she snarled down at him. "You were lucky earlier on,boy", she said, "If you are not gone from this place on the count of ten then I will show you what I am truly capable of."
Mordred stood his ground and glared up at her.
"One...two...three" began Morgana.
Mordred still did not move.
"I'm warning you", she continued, "four...five...six...seven." As she got to number seven she raised her hand, fingers splayed, and aimed it at him.
Finally Mordred moved, mirroring her action and then letting lose a pulse of magical power that should have thrown Morgana off her feet as it had done earlier in the day. This time however, she was ready for it and blocked the spell. Mordred realized with a little panic that she was incanting something under her breath and the spell that he had just cast was beginning to be turned back on him. With all his power he held the spell at bay. The air between them almost crackled with the energy of their battle. Mordred's head began to pound and his arm to shake under the strain of maintaining the block for so long. Morgana could see that he was tiring and pushed a little harder, grinding her teeth with the effort of it.
Mordred's hold on the spell almost faltered completely when he noticed a subtle shift in Morgana's eyes. The golden glow of a sorcerer's eyes was nothing new to him, but slowly Morgana's eyes began to shine with a deep ruby red hue which made her look positively demonic. Upon seeing it, Mordred knew beyond doubt that her powers came not from the earth magic so beloved of the Druids, but from something even more ancient and something dark and sinister.
Mordred was desperate. If he lost this battle then he was sure that death would follow. He had not felt this helpless since his childhood when the Knights of Camelot had destroyed the Druid camp and almost taken him captive. He felt the same surge of anger as he had then and used this feeling to channel all the power within him and the earth beneath his feet. With a final desperate push he flung the spell back toward Morgana.
Suddenly Morgana crumpled to her knees, grasping at her throat and gasping for air. She made muffled wheezing noises and looked down with wild eyes at Mordred who held out his arm and was closing his fingers around thin air in a choking motion. There was no mercy in his eyes. He had let her live in their earlier confrontation because like himself she was a creature of magic. But now, having seen the pure evil in Morgana's eyes as she tried to defeat him moments ago, he felt justified in ending her life here and now.
With all the energy that remained within her as the edges of her vision began to go black, Morgana wheezed out a name that Mordred did not recognise and then fell heavily to the ground looking wildly up into the skies, once again with eyes glowing red.
Mordred grit his teeth and continued to close his hand slowly, slowly. He could feel the life energy seeping out of Morgana high above as it became harder and harder for her to breathe. He took a deep breath to steel himself for making the final squeeze that would end her life when suddenly a white flash in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He knew he must keep his gaze firmly fixed on Morgana to complete his spell and to channel his power so ignored the distraction.
When the white shape came directly into his line of vision he had no choice but to break eye contact with her and to look up in horror at the sight before him...it was the misformed white dragon. It hovered a mere yard in front of him looking down at him with fierce golden eyes and making a shrill high pitched noise that half-deafened him at such proximity.
He staggered backward away from the creature and reached for his sword. Before his arm was halfway to the hilt, the creature lunged. Mordred fell to the ground as a foot-long claw caught him just below the armpit and tore it's way down as far as his waist. It cut through armour, sinew, flesh and bone as if they were paper. As he fell, the creature hovered overhead, drawing in a large breath.
Somehow Mordred managed to roll in on himself and roll away as a jet of flame hit the ground, close enough that the wave of heat made him scream in agony as it washed over him. The creature landed and took in another deep breath, ready to deliver another deadly blast of flame. Mordred was sure that this was to be his end and commended himself to the will of the gods.
Just before the final flame came however, he heard a weak wheeze of a voice from high above on the rock face. "Aithusa, come. Help." gasped Morgana. The creature let out a piteous cry and looked up at the stricken sorceress. Without another look at Mordred it took to the skies.
Mordred lay unmoving for long moments. He was slowly losing conscience but still had wits enough to play dead just in case the dragon came back to finish the job. He could feel the warmth at his side expanding and knew that he was bleeding very heavily. It was hard for him to breathe and each inhale made a loud rattle through his throat. As he lay he heard a scuffle of falling rocks, the cry of the dragon and flapping leathery wings. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.
There was silence. He lay still for long minutes and it continued. After what felt like an age and with his sight rapidly dimming, he dared to uncurl from the ball he'd rolled himself in to. Moving his torso made him groan loudly in agony. The groan came out as a strangled gurgle and he rolled on to his front as his body was racked by a hacking cough and he fought to breathe.
He looked in horror at the ground before him. As he coughed, the rocks became slick with a fine red spray and small clots of blood. He slid from consciousness in the sure knowledge that he would soon die.