35. Decisions

On her return to their sleeping place, Mirella found her husband with their little daughter in his arms.

"How is he?" Leon asked at once, but he could read the answer from her face.

"Emrys is bad" Mirella replied. "Unconscious, and we can't rouse him. He's clearly been attacked by the Rashnijaan. When he took the child, he must have touched it, but … what has really happened – not even Agneta knows."

"Merlin? Overlooked the thing? It's impossible he should not have noticed the cursed Book. Not if anyone else knew the child and the Book can no longer be separated."

"Emrys was so confident he could beat it. Maybe he did not care."

"Perhaps … it's temporary" Leon said hopefully. "He may just come to …. when this is over…" the knight broke off, and looked at his own child.

Mirella came to him, and took her baby's little paw. "You know" she mirrored her husband's thoughts "I keep thinking… if it was our child… I couldn't bear it."

"How is Arthur?"

"Quiet. Withdrawn. You know him, Leon. His Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Camelot will keep his agony to himself, even if it strangles him."

"And … his wife?"

Mirella looked at him and shook her head. "Don't ask!"

"Maybe I should be with them …" Leon said reluctantly. He held unto his daughter, tightly enough to make her squeak irritably.

"Leave them be, my darling" Mirella told him what she knew he wanted to hear. "They're together, and their grief is their own. Let's just hope that at least Emrys will come through this unscathed. Arthur will need him … afterwards."

"You know, I just can't make up my mind" Leon raised his voice in sudden anger "was it heroic or plain foolish to call for the Druids? If Arthur'd said nothing… kept it secret… Gwen knew something was wrong with her son, but she played blind and deaf."

"Sooner or later Agneta would have learned what was going on" Mirella reminded him sadly. "She's our best magician. The crystals speak to her. My father had her marry Marwon because he hoped his grandchildren might be less of a disappointment to him than my brother."

"Or you, when you married me?"

"The great Arenboarth wasn't very fortunate in both his children. My nephew comes after Agneta! I'm glad the Lord Druid saw his grandson before he died."

"You loved your father very much, Mirella, to forgive him his cold heart."

"Why shouldn't I? My father never forgave himself. Neither my brother nor me could've punished him more severely."

"What about Marwon and Agneta?"

Mirella shrugged, before she once again met her husband's gaze. "My brother has a gift for living in a dream. 'One day my father will acknowledge me, one day my wife will love me, one day I'm going to be happy and content.' It's not going to happen. But what of it, the ancient line that gave the Isle so many great men will prevail: Marwon has fathered a son. From now on, he can do as he pleases, go where he wants."

"Is that such a good thing? Go where? Do what?"

"You are a knight of Camelot. Your duty, your status, your allegiance to the Pendragons – it is your anchor in life. It makes you the man you are. My brother's strength is of another kind. He'll grieve, yes, and gravely so, but in the end he will be himself and that's all Marwon Arenboarthson will ever need."

Leon shuddered, as if by an icy gust of wind. The Druids always seemed so gentle, so innocent, but sometimes their politics were just as inhuman as those at Uther's court. "And Agneta?"

"She's like you. Her duty and our heritage, she'll always put that first. The Elders have agreed; she's going to be our leader, the first female chieftain in the history of my people."

"I thought they'd blame her for the deaths at the Cymbrian stronghold?"

"They did, but …. they decided a single accident should not deprive her of the fruits of a life's work."

"Gods, the woman is but in her mid-twenties!"

"The Elders will perform the rites of purification for her as soon as this is over."

Leon guffawed sarcastically. "Will they indeed. Must be a world of comfort and reconciliation to the Cymbrians!"

"You do not like Agneta, Leon? She's my sister-in-law!"

"Which implicates that she's supposed to be a wife to your brother. And yet, she's to get everything and Marwon's getting a warm handshake before he's kicked out."

"Not all eyes will weep for my brother. Probably he'll never see his wife and child again, but he's got me, and you, and he makes friends easily. Anyway, he's much better off than Arthur."

"Because Marwon's son is alive?"

"Because Arthur's one and only attempt at being free has cost him everything, and he didn't even get his freedom in the bargain. He'll have to go back to Camelot, slave on in a position he never really wanted, and he'll most probably die alone, if it were not for Emrys."

"I never knew you are in love with the Prince" Leon said, piqued against his better judgement.

"I'm in love with you, husband. That doesn't mean I can't admire other men for what they are."

Leon, sensing her growing defiance, decided to let that particular matter rest. "Why do you say Arthur'll die alone? There's his wife."

"You presume their marriage will survive this night. I don't. Would ours?"

Leon looked down on their daughter, and shook his head. "No" he admitted.

It was then that they heard chaos break out once more on their doorstep.

Leon put the baby down and pulled his sword before he ran out; Mirella, her dagger in her hand, followed him. Once it would have mattered a lot, to see her with a weapon, Arenboarth's only legitimate offspring. But not for the outlaw she had become.

For no other reason but that she'd married a soldier.

Mirella would defend her people's ways with all her might in public, but inside her soul she knew that, for all their snobbish behaviour, all their noses wrinkled in disgust, all their haughty disdain, the Druids themselves had not withstood temptation when it had come to the test. Princess Morgyan and her brother could tell a tale or two about that.

She felt therefore free to shout it out from all their roofs – unlike Agneta, who was secretly torturing herself to death about the fight with the Cymbrians, Mirella Arenboarthdaughter did not believe in offering one's other cheek. If she were to go down, she'd go down fighting.

However, what she saw in the centre of the narrow glen even made the fierce Mirella stifle a cry of fear.

A small tornado laid waste to everything in its way as the Great Dragon settled on the forest ground.

The Druids, all of them, even the Elders, had to think hard if they wanted to remember their last face-to-face encounter with the embodiment of magic. Overawed by the sight, they gawked like dim-wit village fools at the spectacle in front of them.

But the Dragon, usually enjoying a great entry and the ensuing melodrama, would have none of it. Saying that Khilgarrah was in a bad mood would have been a gross understatement.

"Where" the impressive creature threateningly growled "is that idiot master of mine?"

"Unconscious" Agneta answered, calm if a bit shaking. "We think he might be seriously harmed by the Rashnijaan. Our eyes are therefore glad to behold you, Great Lord."

"And where's the once and future King?" Khilgarrah raged. "We do not have all day!"

"If I'm the one you're looking for" said Arthur who stood by Agneta's side with Gwen in one and his sword in the other hand, "I'm here."

Arthur could hardly believe he was standing here, confronting the Dragon. Merlin had long since confessed the beast was alive, that he was a powerful creature of magic, that he, heavens above, could talk – but actually seeing and hearing the creature was different from listening to stories. Gwen, in Arthur's arm, was trembling.

"What do you want from me?" the Prince retorted. "What have I done to insult you?"

Khilgarrah cocked his head a bit. "Nothing, really. But I once dreamt of retirement, leaving you and Albion in the capable hands of the greatest warlock of all. Unlucky me, Merlin's definition of 'capable' differs a lot from mine."

"If you will excuse me" Arthur replied "but we do have our own problems here. If you're here to help Merlin, just do so."

"Unfortunately, your problems with Anwar of Llanfair's black soul and my concern for my foolish master are one and the same. Merlin cried out to me in panic when he was once more in the power of the Rashnijaan. He won't heal until it is destroyed."

The Prince's throat was tight when he answered "Yours won't be a long wait. My son's body is to die tonight. The Book of Demons will be in your power afterwards."

Khilgarrah scrutinized Agneta's face, who suddenly seemed very nervous. "Did you tell the once and future King that there was no way to save his child?"

As Agneta didn't answer, the Dragon turned to Arthur. "She lied!"

"You can't tell him" Agneta suddenly yelled. "What good would it do? Our Albion, our cherished dreams, they rest with him, and Emrys. The prophecies do not even mention the child…!"

She stopped abruptly as a blade dug into the skin of her throat. "He said" Guinivere hissed dangerously "there is a way to save my son!"

"Arthur, please" Agneta pleaded "you do not know what's at stake here."

"Do not listen to her" Gwen yelled, beside herself with rage, she barely restrained herself from cutting the Druid to pieces where she stood.

Arthur swallowed painfully. He had trusted Agneta. Blindly and with all his heart. "My son" he said "is at stake here. You had no right to keep it from me if there is a way to bring him back."

Khilgarrah's huge head came down to the anguished human face. "Do not blame her for keeping silent, Prince Arthur. There is a price, yet nobody, not even the Druids, can say if it is worth to be paid. With the other keeper of destiny silenced, the choice is yours and yours alone."

Guinivere was too far gone in her wrath and terror to really heed what was said. She thought she had heard all she had ever wanted to hear.

So she had been right from the start, and Arthur had been wrong, wrong, wrong.

It was true, all was true, every word Uther had ever said, the Druids were evil, magic was evil, it was to be eradicated from this land, from all of Albion – her hand ached to begin it now, to struck this filthy bitch down, take Thomas and bring him home, to Camelot, where he belonged, where he would be safe.

She turned to tell Arthur what must happen, what must be done. She heard mere shreds of what this ugly, detesting beast, that had once tried to murder her and everyone in Camelot, was saying. A price, a price, what price?

"Tell him, Arthur" Gwen screamed, her cheeks flushed, her face radiant with the excitement of her rage. She felt as if she'd just awoken from a long, painful nightmare. This had not been her, this weeping, helpless, trembling creature. He'd made her into this, he and his talk about destiny and fate and what not. "For the Gods' sake, Arthur, tell him! There is no price too high for my child!"

Arthur looked at her, everybody looked at her, and fleetingly she marvelled at their odd expressions. Why were they staring, who could have any doubt left, she was his mother, she had to have him back!

"You've heard her" Arthur finally said. "There is no price too high."

Agneta, and not just her, cried out, Khilgarrah sighed and bent his head. "A life for a life" he muttered "It is a law not even the Demons can avoid."

Furtively he looked at the hut in which he sensed the presence of Merlin's subdued magic.

"Forgive me, my dragon lord" Khilgarrah thought. "If you can. But he deserves being given that choice."