36. Under the Dark Moon

Morgyan was beside herself with fury when she found she could not dissuade Antek from his plan. "I won't allow it, and that's final!" she yelled, raising her sword.

"What are you going to do?" Antek asked derisively. "Kill me in order to save my life?"

"You can't go anywhere without your feet!"

"Morgyan, my little pet mouse, you love my feet far too much."

"I AM NOT YOUR MOUSE!"

"My little tiger?"

"I hate you!"

"So more the better, makes this much easier." He laughed, that crooked, charming laugh of his which lit his eyes, the laugh she'd found irresistible from the start. Almost as much as his figure, his honey-skin, his shining black mane … his whims, his wit, his peculiarly changeable bravery…..and she hadn't even told him that Merco was dead.

"Antek, please, don't do this to me."

Llanfair took her blade from her hand and threw it unto the bed, safely out of her reach. Then he hugged her and with every part of his speech, he pecked a kiss on the top of her nose. "Arthur is my friend – kiss – he's clearly out of his mind – kiss – and if I allow them to push me aside my father's legacy will be lost to me – kiss – without me getting anything in the bargain! No Blackrock – kiss – no wedding – kiss – no happily ever after!"

Morgyan punched his chest. "I piss on Blackrock! The place is cursed!"

"Say the Druids!" Antek laughed.

"Says anyone!"

"Well, what does anyone know! I'll save the Book for us, my love, if they want it, they must pay for it."

"That's not a Book at all, Antek, for the Gods' sake, are you daft?"

"My father may have been a bastard, a vicious fiend and what not, but he kept and enlarged the greatest and most powerful estate in all of Cymbria. I'm his heir and I will not give it up!" Antek let go of her and stepped back.

"Your father was an unnatural monster, a wife-slayer, and he watched his so called allies steal Blackrock away from under his pants, if only he could have his revenge on the Pendragons!"

"All the more reason for me to regain my fortune, and an even footing with both your crown and that of Uther."

"I no longer have a crown and Uther loathes the sight of you! Without you, nothing of this would have happened!"

"Yes, but think of his angelic smile when it will be me who reunites him with his family!"

"Antek you're fantasising. It's not real."

"When all is said and done, Arthur is still the only friend I've ever had. Just like you said – parts of his predicament could be related to me."

Count Llanfair turned and made ready to leave the hut when he found that he could not.

A giant figure blocked his way.

Cendred's powerful arms grabbed the younger, much leaner man and lifted him from the ground with no effort at all. "She said: Stay!" he growled.

"Did he just speak, Morgyan? Gosh, there's hope for him yet!" Antek kicked his feet in the air, but seemed unruffled otherwise.

"Let him go, Ceddy" Morgyan said. "If he's so eager to have his head bashed, what do we care!" She sounded quite indifferent and disdainful, but she felt defeated. There was no talking to him.

Since their return from Markentower there had been many an occasion on which she'd thought she'd won him round; that he had really fallen in love with her, as much as she was with him. But now her dream fell to pieces.

It had been her one light in a sea of darkness since her brother's fall; that maybe it had been for good, that now, no longer a Princess, she could go away with Antek and Ceddy, find work, live peacefully, do as she pleased.

That wasn't real either.

"Didn't you hear me?" she yelled at her brother. "Let him go!"

Antek left without looking back.

Morgyan sat down on her bed and buried her head in her arms. She had no wish to join the others. She liked Arthur, she had, until today, thought of Gwen as a friend. She loved Antek so much that it hurt like hell – why go out and see them perish for a lost cause?

One day, somehow, this would pass, as all things somehow pass someday; she would take her brother, and kick damned Albion good-bye. There was always Gallia. Or Rome. Ceddy and Morgyan, hadn't it always come back to that in the end?

Cendred hugged her from behind, and rested his chin on her shoulder as he knelt down. "Bad day!" he growled.

"Very bad day" she answered. "But there will still be better ones!"

"Know!" he said, closed his eyes and began to doze.

She wished she could have told him how much she envied him.

Antek, meanwhile, had reached his designation. His confident grin slipped out of place when he took in the bizarre scenery at the old religion's ancient place of worshipping.

He had thought it might be easy. He could just grab the Book, it had never harmed him. Well, not much anyway. Perhaps they'd be so caught up in their 'sacred rituals' that he could take them all by surprise. Without the Book, Arthur's troubles might be over. Without the Book, they could forget about all their fancy superstitious lunacy. Maybe Antek should grab little Thomas, too.

They wouldn't dare pursue him, then.

And Arthur, at long last, would be grateful. As soon as he came back to his mind, that was.

Yes. A good plan.

Only that it didn't seem so fine, as the picture he found himself vis-à-vis was so very unnerving.

It was the midnight hour of the New Moon, the last one of summer. The ancients believed the female powers to be the strongest then. There was no natural light to unravel the black night's secrets. Only torches and candles, what looked like dozens of them, lit the place in which the Druids, in blood-red robes without any adornments, had gathered around a double circle of upright stones, not very tall, but forbidden looking.

Khilgarrah was nowhere to be seen when Agneta, in the splendid robes of a High Priestess, carried, on both arms outstretched, the Rashnijaan to the wooden table that had been erected in the circles' centre. Guinivere followed her closely, with Thomas in her arms. While Agneta stood still, Arthur's wife put the child on the table, on top of the Book of Demons, and walked away.

Antek wondered if by now Gwen'd gathered what she was about to witness, but she showed no sign of any remorse or worry.

The Count hesitated, at a loss as to what to do. There were so many of them.

How could a bunch of Druids look so very threatening?

A constant hum accompanied the scene, which Llanfair belatedly identified as a low song from the Druids, without words, but growing louder.

The young Count had just begun to hope that Arthur had backed off in the very last minute when he saw the Prince enter the scene from the left side, unarmed but for a strange looking dagger at his side, that Antek recognized with a start as the weapon that had killed his father – twice. Or so they had all thought.

Antek cursed himself silently, for not only having brought the Book, but the weapon too, from Markentower.

But then – the knife had saved Arthur once. Small wonder he would want to have it today.

Camelot's Crown Prince was clad in black clothes from head to toe; even his blonde hair was covered. As he passed the outer stone ring, two people, whom Llanfair suspected were Leon and Mirella, stepped away from him and melted back into the dark.

"Now what?" Antek murmured irritably to himself when he saw Agneta taking the knife from Arthur, and cut both his wrists with it. The cuts were deep, albeit not too dangerous, yet enough blood came from them to cover child and book with it as Arthur placed his hands on his son's body.

The child screamed at the top of his lungs and it did not sound like a human cry, more like that of a trapped beast.

Antek was baffled by what was going on. Uncomprehending he spotted the dagger back in its hilt at Arthur's side. The Prince knelt in front of the table, his upper body bent over Thomas who was still screaming madly. Had Agneta put the knife back? And why, for heaven's sake?

The Druid Priestess pulled a short sword from a sheath one of her compatriots held for her. It could have been of old Roman craftsmanship, had it not been too long, and covered by strange engravings, runes from the language of the old religion. The damn thing apparently had three cutting edges, and Antek did not doubt they all were razor sharp.

But for the handle of the dagger, the engravings and gold inlays of the foreign blade were the only things that caught the light.

The onlookers' humming reached a peak, unbelievably loud.

Agneta raised the blade behind Arthurs back, and with all her strength she brought it down.

Antek screamed as he raced towards his friend, but nobody heard him for in the same moment the Great Dragon's roar filled the night, drowning all other sound on earth, echoing from the far away mountains like from the sky itself. It was as if Khilgarrah's scream would never end.

Without thinking, Antek grabbed the blade with both hands a split second before it hit its target; how this should be possible, Llanfair had no time to wonder.

It was like touching lightning.

Invisible energy jolted through Llanfair's body, a blinding light raced through his head, he could not breathe, or move.

The last thing he saw was that it had all been for nothing.

The blade went through the flesh that was in his way as if the three living bodies weren't there. When it came to rest deeply inside the Rashnijaan, it had nailed the three humans to the Book of Demons' heart as if nothing could ever separate them.

Antek fell into a whirl, down, down, deeper and deeper, strange voices whispered, bodies writhed in pain all around him, until he hit the ground, and knew no more.