11. Silent war
Uther for once forgot all decorum, his dignity and, most of all, his former wrath, as he embraced his son right there on the battle field. "My boy. Dear Gods, Arthur I thought I'd lost you forever."
In a mixture of exhaustion, a delayed reaction to fear and battle strain as well as relief that Uther had obviously forgiven his son's escape with Merlin, Arthur let himself well-nigh fall into his father's arms. Morgana and Morgause winced inwardly, grateful that their chainmail and closed helmets protected them from being recognized by the King.
Uther was beside himself with enthusiasm at the unexpected salvation from complete destruction. "My son, I should have known you'd come and slay this damned creature in his own tent! Well done."
Arthur plunked from hilarious joy to ice cold apprehension in the split of a second. "What do you mean? We couldn't find Marcus. I thought you had killed him as it was obviously Kiringere who surrendered to you."
When Uther paled at the implication of that and was momentarily at a loss of what to say, a horrible thought formed in Arthur's mind. "Father, where's Merlin? Why isn't he here?"
The King knew full well that his next words would reopen the rift between him and his son that had first been caused by Arthur's friendship to the young sorcerer. "He wanted to make a last stand against the creature in the castle vaults at the entrance to the burial site of the second coffin. I said if he was too weak to defend the castle fortifications he might as well go there."
Arthur didn't want to believe it. "You let him go to face the Dark Power alone? You did not even try to give him some men who might have succeeded in killing the human vessel? After all he's done for us? For you? And what do you mean by being too weak? How long did he keep up this protective spell?"
"He lasted barely a week. Then he just fell asleep!" Uther said defensively.
Arthur sickened at the thought. He remembered Moredan's fight against the winter's powers in the mountains. A Master Sorcerer with a lifetime of training and experience, two strong young women, albeit untrained and a bunch of other magicians for at least part time relief and it had cost the Druid almost his last reserves. The Prince looked at the vast outskirts of Camelot's fortifications which had crumbled under the creature's assault and tried to get an impression of the power the Dark Force had invested in this attack. And the skinny, fragile, vulnerable boy had fought it off all by himself. For a whole week!
"Father, take care of the Mercian army!" Uther stared disbelievingly at his son's back while the Prince galloped off at top speed, closely followed by these two young, slender knights who had been at his side.
Arthur jumped off his horse in front of the castle entrance nearest to the vaults and ran down the stairs until he reached the corridor which led to the old part with Cornelius Sigan's burial site. On his arrival he found an astonishing sight.
Gaius lay sprawled on the floor, unconscious or dead. Moredan knelt at the left wall, cradling a foreigner in his arms. Merlin was nowhere to be seen.
"Moredan! What are you doing here?" While he took the Druid by the shoulder Arthur could see the foreigner's plump face. Blood ran from the nose and out of the ears and the eyes were turned upwards. He stammered something inaudible. His hands and legs twitched helplessly. Horrified Pendragon watched the dying man start a raging cough. More blood flowed from his mouth. Then he was dead.
Moredan looked up at the Prince. "He's gone" the old man whispered. "The poor fool didn't even know what he was tampering with until it was too late. The Dark Force fed on his very soul and then it threw him away like garbage." His face white, his body sweaty the Druid looked as if he were about to follow the other man every instant now.
"This is Marcus? You defeated the creature?" Only now the Prince saw the silver box with the leaden lining. So this had been what Moredan had been carrying around all this time.
"Arthur, forgive me" Moredan said. "Now I've let you both down!"
In this very moment Arthur felt a sword point press into his neck. He grabbed for his own sword but it was ripped off his belt with the scabbard and thrown far out of reach as if by an invisible hand together with his knife.
"Get up and turn around!" Slowly Pendragon followed the order while the sword never left his neck. With a dreadful feeling of inevitability he looked into Merlin's face.
It was obvious that this face no longer belonged to his friend. The deep black eyes, the vicious grin and the contorted grimace, nothing bore any similarity to the young warlock who had posed as the Prince's loyal manservant for more than two years.
"So that's the once and future King" the creature said. The voice was as much a misshapen parody of Merlin's as the face. "The one the Druids wanted to hide from me at any cost. They should have taken better care of you as well as of the one whose body I now use."
"What have you done to him? Is he dead?" Arthur didn't know whether he'd preferred a yes or a no for an answer.
"Who knows?" the creature said dismissively. "But as soon as I am whole again there will be no sorcerer left in this world anyway. Never again will they tear me apart. Now go!"
The sword pressed harder against Arthur's skin and he backed off, towards the once more open entrance to Sigan's burial chamber. As soon as he entered it he saw that the back wall had also been burst open. Behind it was another, so far undetected room, with a bigger version of Moredan's silver box buried in the floor. The lid was hinged back and showed a second, leaden box inside that shimmered in an iridescent light.
Suddenly Arthur heard feet running down the corridor towards them. Two female voices shouted at each other while Morgause and Morgana hurried to Moredan's side who had collapsed on the corridor floor.
"Be quiet" the creature hissed at his captive and used the sword point to give emphasis to the command.
The Prince had no intention to obey. He backed off a step and yelled "Morgana, get out of here, now!" while he went for the creature's sword. He grabbed the wrist that held the blade and managed to wrench it free. Astonishingly the creature just let it happen. Only when the two women stormed through the door of the burial chamber it raised his hands. The air rippled in front of the outstretched fingers and all of a sudden both women were thrown through the room and crashed against the walls. Their bodies slumped down on the floor.
With an outcry Arthur wielded his sword against his enemy's head only to stop himself short a centimetre before the blade could hit Merlin's neck.
The creature smiled. "Why don't you go on? Scruples to kill your friend?"
All of a sudden Arthur felt his strength vanish from his arms. Panting he looked at the distorted persiflage of Merlin's familiar features. Still smiling the creature ripped the sword of his hand and threw it away. "We don't need such toys anyhow."
Almost casually it took Arthur's left wrist and twisted his arm on his back with unnatural physical strength Merlin never could have mustered. The Prince struggled against the hold but the creature pulled mercilessly. The shoulder was put out of joint and Arthur doubled over under the hot and searing pain. Only now he saw that his attacker had forced him down directly at the second coffins side. When the creature used his injured arm to bring his head even nearer to the lid of the leaden box Arthur began to kick desperately, trying to reach the feet of his opponent.
The creature didn't care at all. It let go of his wrist, grabbed his shoulders instead and turned him around until his back was lying over the opening that harboured the second coffin. Unmoved by Arthur's desperate struggling it took both his wrists, stretched his arms over his head and pinned them down with one hand until the Prince was trapped on the ground, with his neck stretched above the lid of the box. Arthur screamed when his dislocated shoulder was strained.
"You know" the distorted voice said into the young man's ear "I've been wondering for quite some time whose blood it should be that opened the coffin of my second half. Isn't it very befitting that it should be yours?"
When he felt the knife blade touch his skin Arthur gave up his struggle. No longer wanting to look into the face which had once belonged to his friend he closed his eyes and waited for the blade to thrust home.
Outside in the corridor Moredan stirred when he heard Merlin scream in his head. Every muscle and every joint in his bated body hurt but the Druid resolutely banned the pain to the back of his awareness as he had learned to do many a decade ago. He pulled himself to his feet and shuffled into the second chamber.
Moredan flinched at the sight of the two female bodies lying on the floor like dolls, crushed by a vicious child's foot. The sight of Arthur's trapped body in the perfect position above the pit turned his stomach into a tight knot. Although he had expected something like this it was terrifying to see how close the creature had come to complete the reopening of the second coffin. However, as he had hoped when he had heard Merlin's horrified voice in his mind, the blade didn't move. With whatever power the creature tried to press home, the hand wouldn't obey.
Once more Moredan felt Merlin's fight against the creature's hold as if it were his own mind that had been invaded. The Dark Force's desire to be finally released from the necessity to use a human body at all was overwhelming. Only after its reunion with its second half it would shed its physical existence to once more become the invincible, god like power it craved to be. Impatience and wrath weakened the creature's concentration which, for now, was liable to almost the same rules of magic which formed the 'natural laws' to which a powerful human magician was submitted. Someone like, let's say, Merlin. Or an old Master Sorcerer of the Druid High Council.
Silently the old Druid focused his magical power and let go. The energy ball hit Merlin's body between the shoulder blades. The creature toppled over and lost hold of the knife. With an enraged outcry it turned its face to Moredan and hit back. The Druid staggered on his feet but managed to let go another stream of energy which also hit home with some ferocity.
Now the creature focused in earnest on the adversary it had thought to be defeated. It let go of Arthur and rose to its feet. When the young man tried to pull away it hit his head until he curled himself up and lay still.
Moredan saw the creature come for him and fired his magical energy at it for a last time before he himself was knocked of his feet by a stunning blow. He stayed down, desperately hoping that this had been enough to let the creature's control over Merlin sufficiently slip. The Druid was rewarded for his tenacity when he watched the creature come to a standstill, then shake its head impatiently. In his mind the Master Sorcerer felt Merlin grow stronger. The creature's impatience grew and became unendurable. With a last frustrated gnarl it left Merlin's body and came for Moredan who lay on the floor. To control him in his weakened state would be much easier.
Arthur watched something like a dark mist emanate from Merlin's body and creep towards Moredan. The young warlock fell down to the floor, with blood flowing from his nose and ears. Unbelievably the old Druid smiled at Pendragon shortly before the creature entered his body and his face went blank.
A second later the old man's body rose. The creature stretched its new muscles before it went back to the Prince. Once again Arthur made a feeble attempt to back off but it was to no avail. The creature just gripped his hair and pulled him back to the pit. Arthur's resistance ceased. Only when it took his left wrist to pull up his arms once more he brought his right hand up with all his remaining strength.
Incredulous, with an indescribable expression on the stolen face the creature stared at the knife that it had lost hold of during Moredan's initial attack and which was now buried in the old man's heart up to the hilt.
A screeching howl echoed through the chamber and the creature fumbled at its chest in a vain attempt to retrieve the blade. Still screaming in a high-pitched tone it jumped to its feet and stumbled backwards, away from the pit.
The horrid, unearthly howl was still to be heard while the Druid's body began to decay in front of Arthur's eyes although the creature in it still made it twitch and struggle. Only when the flesh had melted from the bones and the brown skeleton had tumbled to the floor all sounds and movements ceased.
For a moment all Pendragon could hear was his own, ragged breathing. Then he pulled himself together and crawled away from the pit. To his surprise the shimmering light which had covered the leaden box was gone and the lid was somewhat gauged, as if a supporting weight inside the box had suddenly vanished.
Once he had made it to Merlin's body, Arthur tried to reach for the boy's pulse but he backed off when the young warlock stirred. The Prince was hell-bent on bringing his friend out of here. He would only rest a minute or two and then he would lift Merlin and carry him upstairs, to call for help. He was still thinking about the best way to do this when he finally passed out.