Chapter 28 – Forged in a Dragon's Breath
Then there was a blinding, white light, a blast, accompanied by a strange sound – much like a bell being struck, but somehow muffled – and I saw the Saxon being blown backwards with so much force I could hear bones shattering when he struck the ground.
Baffled, I stared at the obviously dead man, but then, like my eyes were drawn towards it, I looked to where the blast had come from. Out of the light, which was quickly fading, but still shining almost too bright to bear, a figure stepped, hurrying over to us: It was old-Merlin, using a staff for support, moving like an 80-year-old, but with eyes too alert for so ancient a man. Part of his beard was singed, and his red garment was burned away in places. Otherwise, he seemed to be okay. Apart from his worried expression, that is.
"Will! What happened? Where – Arthur!"
Merlin rushed past me and knelt down beside his King who had, as I now noticed, not moved since I had knocked him to the ground. Now worried myself, I turned around, too, and immediately saw that something might have gone wrong after all.
There was a deep, gaping hole in Arthur's chain mail and blood seeping out of a wound in his side. The King's face was pale and his breathing loud and laboured.
His wound matched the one he died from in the original story-line.
"No, no, no", I whispered soundlessly and managed to get back up while Merlin carefully examined his friend's wound, his face getting more worried every second.
I staggered over to where Mordred had fallen. I needed to know if Arthur had been wounded by him, or if he had been hit by someone else before he attacked Morgana's accomplice, though I was pretty sure that he had been unscathed before they fought, apart from having been knocked out before.
A thought hit me and I stumbled: If Arthur had been wounded while saving me, it would be my fault if he died...
I reached Mordred's body and knelt down beside it. His sword was wedged underneath him and I had to tore at the hilt with my weaker left arm repeatedly until it finally came loose. While I pulled it out from under the body, I held my breath, hoping for a miracle.
My hands were shaking badly when I surveyed it. A smile of disbelief tugged at my mouth: The blade was intact.
Letting the sword fall from my grip carelessly, I returned to Merlin and the King. While I had been busy looking for Mordred's sword, Merlin had changed back again into his normal, gangly, young self.
The warlock looked at me with an unreadable expression: "I can't heal him. I've tried."
"I know", I said, and his face got even paler than before because he apprehended I was about to tell him we had failed.
I reached over Arthur and took Merlin's cold hand in mine: "Something has changed", I told him in a soothing voice, "there's hope for Arthur, believe me. This is not what happened originally."
"Tell me what to do!", Merlin pleaded, and squeezed my hand.
"Mordred's sword has been forged in a dragon's breath."
"Aithusa."
"I'm afraid so. You know how deadly such a weapon can be: No one can survive its touch. But I know there's still time enough to save Arthur if you move quickly now and don't wait any longer than necessary."
"Where do I have to go?"
"The Sidhe possess the magic that is strong enough to help Arthur. In the midst of Avalon there is an ancient isle", I knew Gaius' words by heart, having thought about them so often in the last few days, "that is the source of their power. You must take him there."
Before I could say more, Arthur moved and opened his eyes slowly. His hand moved toward the wound, and Merlin caught it halfway and gave it a careful squeeze, smiling at his friend: "Arthur."
The King returned the smile wearily, then his gaze suddenly steadied on me, and his eyes went wide: "I hit you! I wasn't sure but – I did hit you!"
"What?", I asked incredulously, but even while I did so, I looked down and realized that my right sleeve was torn and dark with blood. While I'd dragged Arthur down to the ground with me, he must have cut me with his sword, or I had managed to fall onto it, or something like that – I hadn't noticed it until now because my arm had been numb after slamming into the cliff's wall. The thought of having been hurt had never occurred to me until then.
That was the moment when everything clicked into place.
"It's just a scratch", I assured Arthur and smiled at him widely. While I rose, I said: "I'll go and get some horses, Merlin." I saw knights moving around in the distance and added: "Maybe it would be a good idea to go somewhere else." I gave him a meaningful look. "I'll find you."
"Will –"
"I won't be long."
In the aftermath of a battle, many things can get lost very easily, and no one seemed to be in the least interested in someone leading two horses over the battlefield toward the nearby wood. Most of the knights were either helping wounded friends or retrieved bodies and brought them back to the tents.
There was an eerie silence hanging over Camlann, the only sound that occasionally broke it was the cawing of crows. The birds had come to feast.
I averted my eyes from the bodies and concentrated on appearing inconspicuous.
It was of the utmost importance for Arthur to start off for Avalon as soon as possible, and I didn't want to loose a second of his time.
Merlin had left a pretty obvious trail in the wood, and it wasn't hard finding them. I left the two horses when the under-brushes became too thick and continued on. Then I heard them talking and stopped abruptly:
"Merlin."
"Don't move around too much."
Arthur gasped in pain: "My side!"
"I'm so sorry", Merlin said in a choking voice, "I thought I'd defied the prophecy. I thought we would be in time."
"What are you talking about?", Arthur asked, sounding weak and confused.
"I defeated the Saxons. The dragon. And yet... and yet I knew it was Mordred that I must stop."
I decided that I should wait until they were finished – this was a talk they needed to have time for. While I listened to Merlin confess being a warlock, I cried silent tears.
The pain in my arm steadily grew.
Things had changed.
Morgana was in Camelot, unaware that Mordred was dead, and she would not be able to intercept Arthur and Merlin on their way to Avalon. I had chosen two horses that I knew to be fast, sure-footed and reliable, and I had told Merlin where to go. I knew that we had a few more hours compared to the original story-line, and that Arthur might have more time anyway because there was no damn sword-point embedded in his chest.
There was still no guarantee that they would make it – but I knew now that Gwaine had been right. It wasn't me who changed anyone's destiny – I just gave them a chance, and I was sure Merlin and Arthur would use it.
Half an hour later they were on their way. Arthur had asked about Gwen, and wanted to be taken back to Camelot. Merlin explained there was no time, and I added that if he wanted to see his Queen again there was only this one way. I don't know why he chose to believe me and Merlin, but he did. I guess he was desperate and knew that we were right. Still, they weren't talking to each other when they took off, and Arthur kept staring at Merlin warily.
But I was pretty sure Merlin would make him see sense, and even if not, I had an ace up my sleeve to help the King along.
I watched them until they were out of sight and then turned back toward the battlefield and the tents. I had a Royal Seal and a message to convey to the Queen.
A/N: Only two more chapters to go now! And I'm really excited for the next one...!
