Summary: In Victorian London, an emigre count, Uther, and his landlady listen to an innocent girl's bloodcurdling story.
A/N: Thanks for all the nice reviews. Lucy B, thanks to you too.
The Dark Place by frostygossamer
Part 3: The Dutchman
Arthur had sailed early the next morning and jumped ship at the next port. Then he had made his way to England, and again jumped ship in London. Somehow he had known that here was the doleful place where he must turn and fight.
He had been here ever since, several months, knowing that soon Merlin would come looking for him, knowing that they must meet again. This time nothing would keep them apart, no river, no valley, no mountain, no ocean. They were men and this was the 19th Century. There were no more barriers. It was time.
As they walked along the quay that evening, Arthur confided in Guinevere that what he feared for most, if he answered Merlin's challenge, was his reason. For as long as he could remember the darkness had eaten into his soul. He doubted that, even if he lived, there would be anything left of his sanity at the end of the battle.
It was a terrible thing to come face to face with your nightmares, especially when the nightmares were all you knew. Guinevere tried her best to console him. But what comfort could she give him?
The following morning, Arthur went off alone to clear his head. Guinevere found him later that day, sitting on a coil of rope on the quay, gazing out over the water, where seagulls wheeled and squabbled, a faraway look in his tragic eyes. He told her that he had run into Old Alice, a beggar, who told him the gossip was the Dutchman was waiting for him at the Seagull.
Merlin was spoiling for a fight but he wanted to do it right, like some sort of duel, for heaven's sake. Arthur had been trying to get his life in order ready for the day, even make his peace with God. He had been to the Sailors' Mission, but the preacher had given him no peace of mind. This was beyond the platitudes of the man's small experience.
When he went to the Mermaid to meet a man with some jewellery, Bible Will had avoided his eye and the Innkeeper had advised him to take the Bluebell, setting sail directly for the Caribbean. Arthur laughed humorlessly, but Guinevere begged him to sign on, to go, to get away while he still could. She would wait for him faithfully, and he could send for her later, just as long as he kept himself alive. If he stayed, if he was killed, it would break her heart.
Arthur hugged Guinevere and whispered that he was sorry, so sorry, that his destiny had caught up with him just as he had finally found a reason to live. Before they met darkness had shrouded his sun, and there were no stars in his night-sky, no Venus, no Lucifer.
He had lived without light, without hope and without love. He had been ready, but he cursed the fate that would force him to leave her so soon. He squeezed her little hand, kissed her cheek and, only to please her, walked with her down to the Bluebell's moorings.
Arthur approached the captain, but the old seafarer eyed him suspiciously. He said he has heard some whisper ashore, and he wanted no trouble on his ship. He would not take him on, so they went home. As they passed the opium den, the ancient chinee proprietor was standing in his doorway. "Wise man say cannot outrun own shadow", he observed meaningfully as he disappeared inside.
('o')
As Hunith cradled Guinevere against her shoulder, she realised the girl was trembling pitifully.
"I thought that taking to the road would be futile. But I didn't know then how it was to end", she stammered, "Oh, my God, the blood."
Hunith patted her head, rocking her gently. Poor Guinevere shakily continued her story.
In the morning, Arthur had an appointment with a fence in town. He wanted to get some cash for Guinevere, just in case, because today he meant to face his Nemesis.
Guinevere pretended to be asleep until he left. Arthur did not try to wake her. He respected the sleep of those who could. When he had gone, she dressed swiftly, putting on her blue bonnet and gloves, and hurried to the Seagull to see Merlin. She wanted to beg the Dutchman not to force Arthur to fight.
Merlin was eating a hearty breakfast when she entered the tavern. He was as tall a man as Arthur, but his hair was jet black and his face was pale. He wore plain, brown woollens but the fancy scarlet lining in the jacket, gold watch and expensive boots showed him to be a man of some wealth. A broad-brimmed hat and a cape lay on a chair by his side. Guinevere introduced herself to him, and he motioned her to a chair, insisting that she join him in his repast.
Merlin's manner was open and genial, but his eye had an evil glint. Guinevere told him that she feared for her Arthur, both for his life and for his sanity.
"He is a good man", she said, "at heart."
She pleaded with him to delay the confrontation until another time, even, she whispered, another lifetime.
Merlin winced. "Lady", he said, "This is the last lifetime that will be withered by that canker inside me."
When the vine was rotten, it had to be burnt out. If that meant death, then so be it. It was torture to live like this. Since the day he met Arthur Pendragon in that beerhouse he had known. He had tracked the man halfway around the world, and now he was ready. It was time.
Guinevere was undeterred. She said that she would do everything in her power to prevent the fight. She loved Arthur and she could not stand aside and see him destroyed. Merlin snarled and grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her back.
"Very well, lady", he said, "Then I shall have to use less civilised methods."
He pulled her to her feet, and tossed a handful of shillings onto the table.
"Tell him I'll see him in the Dark Place", he growled to the assemblage and, picking up his hat and cloak, dragged Guinevere outside.
('o')
Outside, Merlin wrapped his big cloak around himself and his captive. He hailed a hackney-cab and barked "St. Geoffrey's." Guinevere struggled to free herself but she was completely overpowered by the big man.
Merlin chuckled, "It's a pretty place", he said, "I found it yesterday. Dark and silent as it should be. It wasn't hard to find. I'm sure Pendragon knows exactly where it is. Don't worry. He will come soon and then it will be finished."
Guinevere whimpered. "It has to be, lady", he said, "Now and forever. It has to end."
Tall, black clouds were beginning to form as they arrived at St. Geoffrey's. It was a small, dark and desolate church. On a better day it might have seemed tranquil, but today its dark shadows seemed full of foreboding. The stone floor rang hollowly under their footsteps and the chilly air smelt of damp and of mouldy prayer-books.
Merlin seated Gwen on the front pew and, retrieving the Holy Book from its lectern, began to read aloud - "The Lord is my shepherd..." - passage after passage in his strange Boer twang - "Yeah, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..." - until the sun sank and the shadows crept across the aisle, filling up the chapel with the Dark.
Guinevere closed her dark eyes, and was beginning to slide into weary sleep, when suddenly there was a furious crash, as the doors were flung wide and Arthur Pendragon burst into the chamber. Behind him a fork of yellow lightning tore the air, throwing him into stark silhouette.
At that point, the listeners' rapt attention was broken by the sound of a key in the front door, followed by light footsteps in the downstairs hallway. The steps retreated towards the back of the house.
"Mr. Leon", Hunith noted with relief.
Mr. Leon, another of Hunith's tenants, was a young draper's assistant and inhabited a small back room on the floor below. She put her head out of Uther's door and there followed a whispered dialogue over the banisters.
The words "Rabbit stew", "Kitchen", "Please help yourself" and "Very busy" were all Uther could make out. When Hunith returned to her former place Guinevere continued in hushed tones, her walnut eyes wide with vivid memory.
Merlin, startled, grabbed Guinevere by the neck and backed up the altar steps, holding her between him and his enemy. He fumbled to light the altar candles with stubborn matches. Hunched shadows fled along the cold stone walls.
"Finally", he said.
TBC
A/N: Hope you're liking it so far. Updating soon.