Okay, so someone was complaining that I had been away from Rory too long. For that reason I've tried to truncate the next part of the story as much as possible without, hopefully, losing the thread of the narrative. I hope I've succeeded but fitting my version of the story of Merlin into this tale was going to require a bit of stretching away from Rory as I didn't think Rory could be Merlin. I decided to make Rory the wizard in the crystal cave who trained Merlin which meant Rory would stay behind with the Pandorica while Merlin did all his legendary stuff. Rory comes back into the story at the end of this and I think to fix the 'straying too far from Rory' problem the next chapter will skip to the end of this story arc. Prepare yourselves. Malin is not long for this tale.
Malin lingered at Ward's side as long as he could but there was much that still needed to be done and eventually the men who stood waiting pressed forward for his attention.
Many hours later the wounded were being taken in a steady stream to the rebel camp where they were well treated by Merlin's trained medics.
He had set teams to the unpleasant task of grave digging, explaining that it could not wait or festering flesh would spread disease among the survivors. The uninjured of the king's men were given overseers and set to the task and Malin realized he would soon have to decide what to do with them.
"Malin?" A woman's voice called to him and he turned.
"Adra!" He said surprised at how pleased he was to see her but she did not return his smile.
"I am sorry." She said. "I know that there is much you must do but this cannot wait."
"What is it?" He asked, intrigued.
"Will you come with me?" She pleaded. "Please. I do not have time to explain."
"Yes." Malin nodded. "Yes, of course."
He followed her through the cots of wounded men to a small tent and held open the flap for him.
"Briand!" He exclaimed and cursed himself for not having checked for the boy after the battle. With Ward's death and so many pressing matters his shield mate had been driven from his mind. "Briand you are hurt!"
If possible, Briand seemed even smaller stripped of his chain mail and lying prone and pail on the bed than he had on his enormous chestnut.
"It is well." The boy sighed, eerily echoing Ward's words. "I must confess." He said and he held out his hand to Malin.
Malin frowned as he knelt and took the boy's cold hand into his.
"Briand, you saved me a dozen times or more in this battle. What could you have to confess?"
Tears filled the boy's eyes and he said, "I have lied to you, sir. I am a deceitful wretch. All that I am is a lie."
"What can you mean?" Malin murmured, trying to calm him. "You are one of the truest men I have ever known."
"But I am not." Briand gasped. "I am not a man."
Malin smiled. "You may not yet have attained the years or the physique of a man, but you have a man's heart."
"No." He wailed. "You do not understand. I am not a man, not a boy. I am a girl."
The volume of the wail had caused her to breathe too deeply and she began to cough. Each cough brought up a mist of blood and Adra rushed to the other side of the cot with a cloth and helped raise her even more.
Malin found himself stroking the boy's..uh..girl's hand as though by doing so he could help her find her breath.
He turned to Adra. "Is there nothing that can be done for her?"
Adra shook her head wearily. "Her lungs are pierced and fill with blood. I have put in the reeds with the waxed bags but it only eases her breath. The blood does not stop. It is only a matter of time. I found out her secret when I removed her shirt to tend the wound. When she understood the wound was fatal she begged me to find you out."
"I had to tell you." Briand cried. "I could not bear that you would learn from another my treachery."
"Do not be absurd." Malin cried, his own eyes filling. "You have been a good soldier and a good friend to me. You are still one of the greatest people I have ever known, Briand."
"Briana," The girl corrected. Now that Malin knew her for a girl he could not believe he'd not seen it before.
"Briana." He replied. "It is a beautiful name. Almost as beautiful as you."
"I am going." She said. "I can feel it. I do not want to leave you."
"No." Malin's tears spilled. "No. I do not want you to leave either, Briana. Please stay with me lovely lass."
"I have a last confession." She whispered.
"It does not matter." Malin assured her. "Save your breath and your strength."
She shook her head. "Please." Her voice was so faint he could barely hear her.
He nodded and leaned forward.
"I … I love you. I have loved you since the first day I saw you."
He pulled back, shocked at the confession.
The girl was covered in blood and mud. Her hair was shorn and her skin pale and yet she glowed with the beauty of her love for him.
He squeezed her hand.
"I love you too, sweet lass." He wept and in the moment he knew he did not lie.
He hoped Briana heard the truth of it in his voice. He thought she must have because she, like Ward before her, died smiling.
Eventually he let go her hand and left the tent to face the new world he had set on its head.
The first thing to be addressed awaited him bound a gagged in his tent with two guards watching his every move.
As Malin entered the defeated king cringed away from him and began moaning behind the gag.
"You may go." Malin said to the guards. "If you have not eaten there is a large stew pot near the southern medical tent. Do you know it?"
One of the guards nodded. "Yes, my lord Merlin." He nodded, as close as he dared to bowing since all knew their lord loathed nothing more than being shown deference, and led his companion to the exit.
When they had gone Malin turned back to the prisoner and removed the gag.
"So, you are the one they call Merlin?" Wirred croaked. "I should have known. When the first messenger came to my halls raving about a magic worker, a sorcerer enthralling the peasantry into open rebellion, I had him killed for a rabble rouser. But the stories kept coming. A son of a demon, able to raise the dead, a puissant sorcerer and general walking among men in the guise of a boy. Some even said you were the Lost Centurion, returned to our lands at last. I never dreamed it would be you, Calden."
"Well," Malin sighed. "I never credited you with an overabundance of imagination Wirred."
Wirred stiffened. "You dare call me by my Christian name? I am king of…"
"You are king of nothing!" Malin's shouted. "All you wreak is terror and misery. You are meant to keep the law of God and the custom of men and yet you break faith with your people each and every day. You take lands that are not yours by custom. You take liberties that are not yours. You rape and pillage in defiance of both God and custom and you expect that your people will let this stand?"
Malin sat slowly; his body, young and resilient though it was could not ignore the pain of his wounds and the weariness of his bones. As he thought of them he chuckled mirthlessly.
"You will be taken to your keep." Malin began and Wirred smiled fiercely.
"Well you may smile." Malin nodded. "It is strong and if we attack those walls we will spend many months and the lives of many men to take it, if it is even possible to take it. But we will not attack."
Wirred's smile slipped.
"Did you never wonder how your brother and his wife were able to escape the keep once you marked them for death?" Malin sighed. "It was a goodly tale though they only had occasion to tell it to one other living soul. But he imparted that tale to me though he held back some of the truth of it." The Centurion had told Malin of his parents love and of their adventures but he had never told him that the man they fled was his blood uncle.
Wirred frowned and Malin sighed again. He was so tired.
"I am not your brother Calden." He said. "Your butchers were vicious but not it seems overly reliable. They murdered your brother and his wife but they failed to kill me, your nephew." He felt a mirthless smile cross his lips. "Hello, Uncle."
Wirred's horror was only slightly lessened by this revelation.
"I know the secrets of your stronghold, Uncle." Malin winced. "I do not like that name for you. I have known one dear to me whom I called Uncle though.." His voice dropped to a low murmer Wirred could not hear. "…now I see I misnamed him."
He shook himself and saw his prisoner was staring. Malin crossed to him, replaced the gag and carefully checked the restraints. Satisfied he walked to his cot and collapsed bonelessly. "Tomorrow Castle Wirred falls. Sleep if you can. It matters not to me." He closed his eyes and was instantly asleep.
The next day Malin held a tribunal. The knights were brought up one by one and rebel fighters who hailed from their lands stood forward to testify against them. There were two who were defended and Malin with the approval of all pardoned them and allowed them to retain their positions on condition that they would swear fealty to whomever the people appointed king. They consented and were allowed to go their way.
The other knights did not fare so well as man after man and even some of the women among the camp followers testified to atrocities and injustices suffered at their hands. Malin gave them the option of falling on their swords and three did. The remainder were beheaded and swiftly. There was no time for ceremony.
Malin gave all the king's loyal soldiers the option of joining the rebellion or returning to their homes. This caused a degree of murmuring among the rebel soldiers. But Malin appealed to them, reminding them that most had been forced to leave their homes as boys. "Remember," He'd pleaded. "these were once your neighbors and show mercy."
Roughly half the king's forces left the field, eagerly heading home to their villages but the other's stayed. Some convinced they had been gone too long. Some stating they had wrongs for which they sought atonement. The swelling of the rebel forces eased much of the tension but Malin knew he would have to split up the new forces as much as possible and caution his lieutenants and sergeants to keep a close eye out for tension that might cause fighting. When soldiers fought, people often died.
When all finally seemed settled and a force was left to complete the burial detail and guard the wounded, Malin set off for Wirred's Castle. They approached the fortress at dawn the next day and Malin rode out with his new second in command, Garrick.
"You know what you must do?" Malin asked and Garrick chuckled.
"Provide myself as a target."
Malin frowned. "I think target is not an accurate description. You are not to put yourself or the men in danger until…"
"Aye, aye." Garrick mollified. "Until you open the door and we all march in at our liesure. How will you accomplish this, may I ask?"
"You may ask." Malin smiled. "But I cannot tell you. Not if I wish this castle to remain a stronghold in future."
"Merlin." Garrick began all levity gone. "Have you magic, boy? I know that all you have done you say tis only learning we know not of and that if we were to learn we would be able to do as well but…but the men they do not…they think you merely call magic 'science' and seek to place yourself on equal footing with all as is your wont to do."
Malin considered this. "I have knowledge and I have come to learn that knowledge is power, great power. But believe me, my friend. There is nothing I do that you could not do also if you but learn the secret of it."
Garrick shook his head. "The same could be said for magic, Merlin."
Malin grunted in frustration. "I will never be rid of it, will I? The legend. It is why I can never be the ruler to unite our lands."
"What?" Garrick gasped. "Why?"
"If I were to take the crown, in time people would ascribe all good things to magic and all bad things as well. I would not be a man. I would be a wizard at best, a sorcerer at worst." He shook his head. "No, the ruler of this land must be a man with no taint of the supernatural about him."
Garrick leaned forward. "You are a born leader, a great general and above all a good man who cares for others first. Where shall we find such a king as to be your equal?"
Malin smiled. "You flatter me, my friend."
"No. I am not a flattering man, boy. I speak my thought."
Malin shook his head. "We do not have time for this. I must be about my 'magic'." He joked trying to lighten the mood. "Wait 'till noon then march to the gates but out of range and wait for the drawbridge to fall."
Garrick frowned. "Will you not take anyone to aid you?"
"No. I must go alone."
"As you will."
"Then they say the wizard Merlin rode away from the castle. The whole of the camp saw him riding away and none saw him ride back though the whole of the castle was surrounded." Nimue breathed. "Then the army approached just as he had told them and the drawbridge fell. There stood the Wizard Merlin bloodied but whole and the rebel army charged in and took the castle with only 19 rebel souls lost. When they had secured it they brought Wirred to his hall and the Wizard had all the men and women there imprisoned testify against him."
Her eyes lit with excitement and Rory smiled at the delight in her expression.
"There in the dungeons who do you suppose they found?"
Rory chuckled and shook his head. "Who lass?"
"The king's own son!" She pealed. "A boy of twelve named Egbert. He'd of late spoken out against his father and his father's cruel works. The king had placed him in chains and prescribed that he should be beaten daily until he had confessed his sin against his father and liege." Nimue shuddered at such a heartless father.
"The Wizard's advisors were loath to confess it and saddened in their hearts but they did counsel Merlin that he must kill the boy as well."
Here Nimue had Rory's full attention.
"But when they overheard this the prisoners of the dungeon rallied around the boy and though unarmed and outnumbered they swore that the rebels must needs kill them all to take the life of the boy." Nimue smiled. "When the Wizard Merlin saw this he laughed and proclaimed the boy to be a soul of stout heart, courage and above all integrity to have stood so long 'gainst injustice even 'gainst his own father. He approached the prisoners who let him pass unmolested 'till he stood before the boy and then to the wonderment of all he clasped him by the hand and pledged he would hold his life sacred."
Nimue's voice darkened. "Then they took the evil King Wirred and though the Wizard at first protested and advocated for a clean death by beheading his lieutenants protested and the men cried out that the king's punishment should be a just payment for the crimes he and his cohorts had committed. So, the Wizard took the boy Egbert away and they laid a pyre in the courtyard and burned the king to ashes."
Nimue stopped then, her eyes unreadable.
"Are you alright, dearest girl?" Rory asked, worried that a story of death by flames might stir too many unpleasant memories.
Nimue shook her head. "It is him. Isn't it? Merlin is Malin."
Rory nodded. "Yes. I believe he changed his name to keep his village safe. There is more but you must not share this with another soul."
Nimue nodded and Rory continued.
"Malin has knowledge of a secret entrance to the keep. I never spoke much of his parents other than how much loved him and each other. I did this to keep him safe but I trust you little lass. I know of all the people in this world there is only one other that may love my boy as I do and that is you. Malin's father was no troubadour fallen ill. He was the second son of the King of Essex. Though he was the second son he was favored by his father the king and when his wife grew heavy with child the eldest, Wirred, feared that he might lose his place. Being a conniver, Wirred could not imagine that his brother did not seek power. So, he planned to murder his own father and brother, even his brother's wife. But he came for the father first and a servant ran to warn the prince Calden. Calden alone knew the story his father had learned from his great grandfather. When he was a boy and the foundations of the castle being laid, workmen broke through to a large cavern. In the cavern was a lake fed by a stream that appeared to flow into the mountain yet if a man could keep his courage and his breath he could gain both entrance and exit. The way was sealed but the king determined that a door should be made in the case of a desperate escape and for such cause was it first used. Wirred never knew how his brother escaped his grasp."
Nimue sat silent for a long time absorbing this.
"So..so Malin is..a prince?"
Rory smiled. "The son of a second son but, yes. He is a prince of Essex."
"A prince? Me?" A voice laughed, startling Rory and Nimue. "Heaven forbid."
"Malin!" Nimue screeched and ran toward him but stopped short, suddenly hesitant.
Malin stared at her for a long while, seeming to struggle with what to say.
"They told me." He finally murmured. "In the village when first I arrived the first person to greet me was your mother. She fell on my neck weeping and blessing me for having returned. I didn't understand but then she said…she said you were alive and began babbling about mistakes and my poor Uncle and then she just fell to begging my forgiveness over and over." He shuddered. "It was most unpleasant. Your father thankfully pulled her away long enough for me to forgive her and then I came here straight away."
Malin looked around the cavern, taking in the emptiness. Then he approached Rory.
"I will not fall on your neck and weep but.." He fell to one knee before Rory. "I will beg your forgiveness. I was so sure I knew…but I knew nothing of battle or death or war. I understand better now and I know you…"
But he could not finish because Rory had pulled him up and was embracing him with such force he could scarcely breath.
"My boy." Rory cried. "Oh my boy. You came back. I thought…" He released Malin and held him at arm's length, drinking in the sight of him. "I thought I might never see you again."
"I am sorry." Malin wept. "I am so sorry, Father."
Rory's eyebrows lifted.
"I have met my Uncle and many more beside. You are not my Uncle. You are my father and I would call you such if you will let me."
Rory nodded, unable to speak at first. "Yes, Malin. I would be honored to call you son." He shook himself, trying to ease the emotion of the room and noticing that Nimue still stood uneasily. "Nimue has been telling me the tales of your exploits Wizard Merlin."
Malin let loose a groan so reminiscent of his childhood it stripped away all the grandeur of his appearance. "I have told them so many times past I am not a Wizard but tis hopeless. I fear I will forever be one in their eyes."
Rory laughed. "I know the feeling."
Malin turned to Nimue, suddenly shy. "I..I fear I do not know how to…to beg your forgiveness."
Nimue frowned suddenly confused.
"I should not have left. I should not have despaired. You are right to be angry with me and to let me believe you dead. It is only justice…"
But Nimue had rushed to him. "You? Ask forgiveness of me? No! It is I who owe you the apology. I..my vanity..my doubt of you. That I would think you so shallow of character to turn away at the sight of me. It was badly done and I wounded you and your dear Uncle..Father deeply. I…"
But Malin had gathered her in his arms and cut off her protests with a kiss. Rory stepped back and placed his hand on the Pandorica wishing to somehow share this moment of happiness with Amy.
Somewhere near the entrance someone cleared their throat. Rory looked up, half expecting to see Kara or Fornac but instead he saw a boy of about 12 looking very uncomfortable.
Malin broke away from the kiss, laughing. "Egbert, my lad. I am sorry. I know what it is like to be subjected to kisses at your age."
"I am sorry, Merlin, but I grew lonely waiting and you said t'would be but a moment. I grew anxious."
"As well you should. It was churlish of me to leave you there so long. Come!"
Egbert approached, his mouth gaping and his eyes huge as he took in the glowing walls and the Pandorica.
"Egbert, this is my Father, the Last Centurion."
It didn't seem possible but the boy's eyes grew even larger.
"Father, I have a great boon to ask." Malin said. "I have establish Garrick as king of Essex though the right should fall to Egbert but I have another plan for him. It will take many years for us to establish the strength of Essex and gather what allies we may but then our plan is to take mastery of all the kingdoms and appoint a ruler over all."
He put his hands on Egbert's slight shoulders. "I believe that Egbert is that ruler. He is quick witted, a good fighter, a born leader and most of all, he has a great and true heart. He cares for the needs of others before himself. But he needs time away from the courts. He needs training. Father, he needs you."
Malin looked around the cavern. "I did not think to see this place so much changed."
Rory sighed. "You were not the only one to despair."
Malin's eyes watered. "I am sorry, Father. I am so sorry. I would like to say that I did not mean to hurt you but the truth is I did. I was angry and stupid. I was a petty child who did not know of what he spoke and I am so very sorry."
Rory smiled. "I could forgive anything of you, I think. I love you, Malin. I will always love you."
"I love you, too." Malin smiled.
Rory laughed and hugged him close in a long embrace.
"Well, it is a small matter to make a table and chairs. You needed a new bed regardless and I will build one also for the boy."
"Father, I cannot stay." Malin said sadly.
Rory's expression froze for a moment then he smiled, shaking his head. "Of course. Of course, you cannot. Silly old man. You must be building these alliances and preparing the way."
Malin nodded.
"Well, but you can still visit? Can you not?" And Rory could not keep the pleading from his voice.
Malin smiled. "I will. Though I must come in secret. I do not want to expose you to the world. I have seen how legends fare. And Egbert must be kept secret and safe until it is time for him to take up his place in the world."
Rory looked a hard long look at Merlin. "You are impossible." He said suddenly to the surprise of all.
"What do you mean, Centurion?" Nimue gasped.
"It isn't, is it?" He asked, turning to the Pandorica. "He's Merlin, yet how can he be? Merlin is a legend in our time but Malin would have died without me and I wasn't in our timeline so how is it possible? If he's Merlin, then the boy is…"
He stopped talking but stayed facing the Pandorica as though in a trance.
"Father?" Malin asked, worried. "Father, what ails you?"
Rory shook himself. "Nothing. Just the impossibility of the universe." But he muttered. "Is this what he meant? All those times he spoke of fixed points? The universe will see to it that certain things happen no matter how badly we disrupt the timelines?"
"Father?" Malin's voice was fairly dripping with concern and Rory turned back to him trying to smile.
"If Egbert is going to stay here in hiding he will need a new name and I've the perfect one."
He reached out and laid a gentle hand on the boy's head. "I dub you, Arthur, King of the Britons."
