11. Abusive manoeuvres
"Gaius, what do you think you're doing!" Judging from his appalled look, the Lord Druid was thoroughly aghast at the sight of the old man tottering into the library. Arenboarth jumped to his feet and caught him a mere second before his unexpected guest undoubtedly would have crashed to the floor.
The more surprise for the Druid when an enraged Gaius pushed his helping hands away as soon as he had regained some of his footing. "Go away from me, you hypocrite."
Almost instantaneously the expression in the Master Sorcerer's face changed into one of guilt. If Gaius had needed any more proof for his suspicions being justified, the sight of Arenboarth's usually reserved, always somewhat blasé features suddenly blushing with obvious shame would have been more than enough to confirm his worst assumptions.
"When did Your Eminence plan to enlighten the King as to your plans?" the healer said while he sat down in the nearest chair that conveniently blocked the room's only exit. Uther's old friend trembled from weakness as well as with genuine wrath.
"I had no plans that should bother Uther. Otherwise I would have informed him - and you" Arenboarth replied, stepping back, looking away – still blushing.
"Oh didn't you really. How very considerate of you. Pray, tell me what do you take me for, an imbecile? All of a sudden you want the Prince to stay, and his wife and child as well. You, who always said that a warrior's mere presence would contaminate the pureness of your people's souls. Merlin may think you really want an excuse to prolong your daughter's visit but I know better. Mirella might as well be dead for all you care, now that she has married a soldier."
Still panting heavily Gaius had to clear his throat before he could continue. "No, what you really want is to have Merlin's best friends here, alone, cut off from everybody else. Just in case Merlin was to see through all your feigned mercy and forgiveness; see you for what you really are – a coward and a scoundrel."
"You are going too far, Gaius, I…."
"You what, My Lord Druid? It's as plain as a pikestaff that you are going to make a cat's paw of my boy. Should he refuse you, you are going to use Arthur, to bend Merlin to your will by force if needs be. But I won't allow it and there's an end to it."
"Surely you see that the Rashnijaan must be recovered and destroyed at all costs" the Druid exploded. His voice resounded from the high walls while his magic created an invisible but almost palpable aura of aggressive energy around him.
However, if he had planned to intimidate the healer he had made a gross miscalculation.
"Arenboarth of Ullstone, I was made a senior adept on the Blessed Isle when you were still a pimpled youngster who dozed off during nightly contemplations; so don't you try these childish games with me!"
It was an old and not too complicated trick to 'grow' in the eyes of a beholder, to use one's magic to appear 'larger than life'. But old trick or no, the Master Sorcerer had to admit, albeit silently, that the physician did a decisively intimidating job.
With a visible effort the Druid pulled himself together. "Gaius, I repeat: The Rashnijaan has to be found. Great evil can come from it; will come from it if it falls into the wrong hands."
"From what I gathered from last year's events in Blackrock it has been in the wrong hands for more than 20 years. And the sun is still up in the sky. Anyway, what business is this bloody book of Camelot? The old Llanfair wolf will never use it to threaten Arthur again, he's dead. His treacherous rogue of a son can go back to his beloved Blackrock for all I care. We Pendragons, royalty or servants, will go back to Camelot together, that's all I am interested in."
Arenboarth saw the stubbornness in the other man's face and he had a clear conception of what this man's advice and pleading would mean to Prince and warlock. There was no doubt that Gaius' wishes would win if the healer were to throw his weight around in this.
All of a sudden the Lord Druid changed his tune to a more imploring attitude. "Do you really think Camelot's walls can protect you from the Book of Demons' power? Are you that naïve? Uther's abduction, the people who bargained with Antek for Emrys – they were only the beginning. I tell you, these brutes are after the Rashnijaan and after a young magician who can bring the evil in it to life! Merlin already is in this up to his neck. And he is the only one who has the abilities necessary for its retrieval."
As if he had been stabbed with a knife Gaius bolted from his chair, only to grab the wood hard enough to whiten his knuckles. "Don't try to fool me, Arenboarth, I warn you. You were the one who cast Merlin out; you told him he'd never be allowed back to you. You said that what he had done to save his friends disgusted you; that he disgusted you. And now that his willingness to dirty his hands in wrestling with dark magic suits your plans, you pull him out of the dustbin? It won't wash, Arenboarth, it won't wash!"
"Emrys and his Prince have much in common nowadays" Arenboarth replied with forced calm. "They both have an old man in their lives who said some rash words he has regretted ever since but cannot for the life of him take back, no matter how hard he tries to make amends."
"Humility isn't exactly becoming in you, My Lord Druid. And frankly, you are not very believable." Awkwardly Gaius pulled himself straight and turned to the door. "This is leading nowhere. I will put a stop to it. We will all leave together and that's final. Uther is waiting for nothing else but my recovery anyway, he won't refuse me."
Inwardly the Druid was pained more than he had imagined he would be if it came to this. He had had some hopes to avoid this predicament; albeit these hopes hadn't been strong, they had been precious to him. Very precious actually and it hurt to let them die. He knew this hope would be destroyed with his next words. There would be no chance to ever reconcile himself with Gaius and Emrys, who both had been very close to his heart in the past.
"So you leave me no other choice. I will no longer invite the Prince to stay under some pretext; I will tell him what this is about. He has suffered the Rashnijaan's power. You know his nature better than I do. He would leave the dangerous quest to nobody else."
No hidden onlooker of the scene would have recognised the kind and gentle Court Physician of Camelot in this moment. Gaius' long since unused, but once strong magic, when it hit the other sorcerer, was white hot and untamed. "Don't you dare to drag him into this, you manipulative bastard" the healer hissed. "Or I swear I'll see to it that the worst days of Uther's great purge will look like a Sunday outing to you."
The pages of the book on the small table blackened and smouldered under the warlocks' rage. The Master Sorcerer gasped with a brief and intense pain before he could fence off the other man's onslaught for good. Feeling another's magic, and from a re-convalescing old man, was breathtaking after so many years of virtual invulnerability.
When Gaius' still feeble strength was spent, the Lord Druid also needed a moment before he could speak again.
"Do you think that's what I want, you stupid old crock? Emrys and Arthur, they've seen first-hand what this accursed book can do in the wrong hands. Do you think the Di'inshara ritual Llanfair used to enslave the Prince is the only piece of evil it contains? Centuries and centuries the guardians of demonic power have worked on it until their masterpiece was finally finished. All they ever knew about artificial magic is in there, ready for the taking by every overambitious and misguided man in Albion."
"Then why the hell don't you go and take it back? It was your foolishness that kept it in your library, for Badagere to steal it for his friend Anwar of Llanfair." Gaius' voice was now cold and scathing. "You should have sacrificed the damn thing to the Dragons the moment you got hold of it. Instead you kept it, to 'study' it, as you said. To enhance your prestige, that's what I say. The great Demon Hunter, the persecutor of all evil! Something had to make you Lord Druid, and the Rashnijaan came to your hands at a very convenient time. Now I won't allow you to use our boys to pull your chestnuts out of the fire."
"Are you saying that you would urge Uther to resume the persecution of magic and my people if I don't do as you say?"
"Quite so! But if the King were to find out that you as much as thought about dragging his son into this dangerous business, he'd resume the purge on his own accord."
"What about the Pendragons being here, in our power?" Arenboarth said sarcastically. "Shouldn't you at least consider that fact?"
"You may fool Merlin, not me, into believing that you'd hold Arthur hostage, harm him if necessary. I know what your precious doctrines of purity and non-violence mean to you. That's exactly why you always needed somebody else to do the dirty work."
Lost in thought, his former sarcasm vanished, the Lord Druid rubbed his hands as if they already were dirty. "You're resolved then. Once more you put your loyalty to your friends before your duty to the Blessed Isle and to the greater good."
"Call it whatever you like, My Lord, your sanctimonious speeches will not change my mind. Merlin and Arthur have carried more than their due share of fighting for the greater good. As for the Blessed Isle, it's dead, in case you haven't noticed. And yes, one word from me about your plans to Uther and you and your people will need a burial place there. So you should cut your losses and retake the damn book yourself."
"I can't" Arenboarth replied. "Believe me or not, I am not capable to do it. I wasn't even able to retrieve its whereabouts from Antek, whatever I tried."
The healer snorted derisively. "This is ridiculous. A minute ago you were talking about letting Arthur search for the bloody thing. It can't have it escaped your notice that the Prince has as much magic as a mule in the barn."
"Where the Prince leads, the warlock will follow. We both know that. It is my only chance to make sure that Emrys takes on the task. He has to find out where the Rashnijaan is, make sure that it is not brought back to life again, bring it here and call in Khilgarrah. Only the Great Dragon can destroy this abomination, if it is brought into our sacred grove in time." Arenboarth's tone became authoritative. "It must be done, Gaius, and if Arthur Pendragon is the only bait I have, so be it."
"Let me get that straight." It came out as a low growl from the growing darkness which had slowly begun to settle in the room as the candles burned low. "You would willingly accept that Uther's son would be either killed or fall prey to a Di'inshara again, that Merlin would most probably die in the attempt to help him and that all Albion would burn from one end to the other as soon as Uther were to learn that you were behind his son's downfall – all this to save yourself the trouble to go after the Book of Demons on your own?"
"Yes" Arenboarth shrugged dismissively. "For twenty years the Rashnijaan has fed on Anwar of Llanfair's soul. For a while it has even drained Arthur's life force. I am no longer a match for it. I'm dying, Gaius."
The shock of this revelation left the physician speechless for an instant. It was one thing to throw oneself between the power-abusing Lord Druid and the two young men he cherished. To learn that a man he had admired and almost loved for the better part of his life was going to die was something completely different. "But when you healed me two nights ago it was so easy…..,so effortless" Gaius finally managed to say. "How could you… I couldn't have done it, never."
"Where I lack the power you lack the education, for all your years in the healers' temple. Besides, you chose to abandon magical healing long ago, to pursue your so called science." After the briefest spell of weakness Arenboarth had more than regained his usual superciliousness and quiet arrogance. "When this summer goes I will go with it" he continued, as calm as if he were indeed talking about the weather. "My only hope to make good on the one big mistake in my life is an insolent peasant boy from Ealdor."
Arenboarth's last sentence had effectively crushed Gaius' sympathy for the man; crushed it enough to even suppress his professional curiosity as to the nature of the Lord Druid's illness. "As you said, Your Eminence" he replied. "Your big mistake. Why not call for your children and natural heirs to make good on it?"
"Mirella is a woman. She has no access to the Rashnijaan."
Gaius snorted. "A woman can neither use it nor can she be corrupted by it. I haven't forgotten that much, Arenboarth. But what about your son?"
"I do not have a son!"
The healer shook his head in exasperation. "You do have a son. I helped him into this world."
Arenboarth's always somewhat haughty face became even more withdrawn and dismissive. "Marwon is a child of the Goddess. The companion the High Priestess received under the sacred moon of Beltain was of the Great Mother's choosing..."
"For the Gods' sake, Arenboarth, I was there at the time. We all knew that Nimueh had a crush on you. The Great Mother's choosing my foot. The High Priestess took you to her bed and nobody else. It was common gossip from one end of the Blessed Isle to the other. Of course Marwon is your child. To think that you're still denying it after all those years."
"Don't fool yourself….." Arenboarth gave himself all the airs he could, but it didn't do him much good.
"I take it then that Marwon's magical powers do not live up to expectations" Gaius said. "Is that it?" and the Lord Druid's shoulders sank in embarrassment.
"He's better with the sword than with his magic" he muttered. "My own flesh and blood and he would be better off as a knight than as a Druid."
"So you insist that Merlin takes on the quest, voluntarily or under duress, although it would most probably cost him his life?"
Arenboarth returned the accusing stare firmly and with utter resolve. "Yes. If you try to talk Emrys out of it I will talk Arthur into going after the Rashnijaan and that will inevitably jeopardise Emrys even more. Should the Prince be captured, his protector would be at his captors' mercy as well. But let me have my way and at least Uther will take his boy home safely, I give you my word on that."
"Keep your empty promises to yourself, Your Eminence" Gaius spat. "I will talk to the King and this time neither Arthur nor Merlin will refuse him. We will be ready to leave in the morning."
With that the old healer turned to the door, brusquely showing his back to his counterpart.
"No, I think they would notrefuse you" Arenboarth sighed sadly. "And that's exactly why I can't allow you to leave."
The blow hit Gaius completely by surprise. The magical energy knocked him out cold in an instant, even before his feeble body sprawled out on the floor.
Arenboarth waited a second before he checked the other wizard's pulse. Finally the Master Sorcerer struggled back to his feet from the crouch at Gaius' side and swallowed painfully. "I am so sorry, old friend" he whispered before he called for his servants to help him.
His lament, when the servants arrived, was very convincing. Undoubtedly the patient had risen from his sickbed too early, paying the price for his foolishness by having a major setback that might last for weeks, even months. Unthinkable that Gaius was to travel anytime soon. Nor was he allowed any visitors until he had sufficiently recovered from this breakdown.
Under many expressions of sympathy the two young Druids carried the unconscious healer out, pushing the door of the library wide open in the process.
Invisible in the dark corner behind the door, a mortified Prince tried to melt into the wall as best as possible.
Arthur's original wish to intercept Gaius on his way out of the library, seeking his advice as to how to reconcile a stubborn magician with a hurt ego, was long forgotten. He had missed the old man by a mere second before Gaius had entered the room, but then the Prince had heard his name and what had been said had frozen him to the spot.
So Uther's son had heard what Gaius had wanted to keep from him at all costs. What the Rashnijaan was had quickly become clear to one who had felt its powers. With every word the picture in Arthur's mind had become clearer, more vivid.
He remembered the unused room in the vaults of Blackrock castle in which he had been kneeling in front of Anwar of Llanfair, with his wrists tied to two wooden posts. The lunatic's smile while he was mocking his desperate captive with stories of Uther Pendragon's imminent death was impossible to forget.
The old Llanfair wolf had relished in his threats. Just in case. Just in case that his captive should refuse him in anything. Arthur hadn't even known that he was submitting to the Di'inshara bondage when he had sworn the oath of total submission the old Count had read out for him to repeat, read from a most impressive volume, clad in fine brown leather in the colour of dried up human blood. The parchment had smelled of rotten things and old sulphur but the book's metal fittings had been made of gold, engraved with old runes and pictures of demonic creatures; the workmanship as superb as it had been appalling.
At the time all Arthur had realized was Llanfair's triumphant grin while he drank the Prince's blood, forcing his prisoner to drink his captor's blood in turn. Arthur still felt the lunatic's hand on his mouth, forcing him to either swallow the strangling mixture of bile and blood or suffocate. Now he couldn't comprehend anymore how on earth it had been possible to forget the book itself – until this very moment.
"Shhhhh, little Dragon, it's all over, all is well. You're mine now. Mine forever, in body and soul."
Arthur's eyes had actually been hooked to the book the second Anwar of Llanfair had started to caress his hair, then his fittings had been gleaming in the candle light. Somehow the demonic figures on them had come to life, dancing a mad dance of joy. Absurdly he had felt, with utter conviction, that the evil in this room came from this book alone; that without it Anwar of Llanfair would have been capable of nothing but scaring a small child to bed.
"Please, may I see my father, please, I must talk to him."
"All in good time, little Dragon, all in good time." Anwar's voice, gentle, soothing, very kind.
And afterwards….afterwards…...those eight days afterwards...
Unwittingly Arthur embraced himself. Having been oblivious to his surroundings, he flinched violently when the door began to swing back, robbing him of his cover, exposing him to the man in front of him.
"You've heard what we said!" Arenboarth stated.
"Yes."
"All of it?"
"Yes."
The Lord Druid saw the pale face, the wide eyes and the fear in them which was so very unusual for this proud warrior. Regrettable that his room for maneouvres had been limited like this. Very regrettable. However... Arenboarth came to a spontaneous decision. "Your Highness will understand that this is nothing I can allow to be brought to your father's ears right now. You must come in. Please."
He let Arthur enter the library before he shut the door and locked it from the inside.