Sir Rupert and Gawain had made the most of their meagre supper. Rupert had revealed a skin of wine that he was saving for an occasion. But pitch darkness, a spooky castle and the sense of getting nowhere seemed like a perfect time to break it out. The two men sat by their dwindling fire. Gawain was soon merry and began to tell some of his very poor jokes. Rupert laughed at the lack of humour and poor Gawain was so flattered he laughed at his own jokes, which just drove Rupert into greater hilarity. They did not hear it at first, Gawain had just begun one of his tall tales when Rupert unceremoniously clapped his hand over the young knight's mouth.
"Quiet man," he seethed, "there is something moving over there." Rupert got up and quickly and hid himself in the darkness. Waiting with raised sword for his eyes to adjust to the dark after the light of the fire. Gawain was slower but also took refuge in the dark. Rupert recognised the sound of a horse, he could tell from its gait that the animal was rider-less and he lowered his sword. The horse wandered into the light of the fire. Gawain breathed a huge sigh and laughed nervously. Rupert caught the bridle and the horse pulled away he spoke to it gently and it was quickly quiet.
"This is Merlin's horse," he said. "They must be in trouble."
The two men called out into the dark, the light was too poor to search very far. They took turns to sleep. The horse had come from the ruined castle. In the morning they would search it again.
*
Merlin stumbled out of the dark. The light had grown brighter with each step. It was farther away than he imagined and when it came into view it was not a candle or a campfire but the half open window to a forge, blazing red gold in the dark night. Merlin came silently upon it for fear of being challenged. He had the advantage of being out it in the dark, his eyes could see into the light but they could not see into the darkness. He peered through the window. In the forge he saw three people, a woman, a boy and a man: a blacksmith. The woman was slight almost like a child herself in stature. She had long braids, caught up around her ears in the old fashioned way and she was laughing; a round joyful laugh that made Merlin feel warm inside, and gave him the sense that all could be well again. The boy was attempting to bring the hammer down on a bar of red-hot iron to shape it. His face, bright crimson with the effort but filled with a grim determination that Merlin could tell would elicit great amusement from a parent. The boy was fair like his mother and bore not the slightest resemblance to the man. He kept on missing his mark and each time he bit down harder on his tongue, his face contorted with the effort. The boy glared at his mother, who immediately tried to suppress her laughter with no success. This just made everything worse and her peals of laugher rang out through the night. Merlin looked closely at the smith who towered above the others, he had a tidy beard of red hair and a head of wiry curls, black as charcoal. He wore an expression of infinite patience and made slight sounds of encouragement, ignoring his wife's laughter and catching the eye of his young son who visibly relaxed under his father's gaze. The smith then moved behind him and repositioned the boy's hands on the hammer whispering a word. He turned to look at his wife and raised his eyebrow. That was all it took. She stopped laughing and smiled at him, mouthing the word 'sorry' as she turned at left them to their work.
Merlin moved around to the door she had just walked through. He didn't know whether to tackle the man or follow the woman but soon the decision was taken from him. The woman returned to the door and found him in the doorway.
"Are you in or out?" she asked in a friendly voice.
Arthur turned to look at her and fumbled his words, it felt as though he had not spoken to anyone for a long time.
"I….I…wondered if…."
"Hungry, tired and confused, I imagine," she said with a mischievous smile. "They all are. Well, the few who get this far," she added as she steered him into the forge."
"Brand my love," she said as the smith looked up. "We have one here that needs you."
She crooked her finger and called her boy away.
Smiling at Merlin she said. "Ask him what you will, he cannot deny you. I shall bring food and then you shall sleep."
The smith let go the bellows and pulled up a stool for Merlin who looked like he could keel over at any minute.
"What is it you want to know Emrys?" he asked.
Merlin was stunned at hearing his name, his secret name on the lips of this man.
'How?' asked Merlin brokenly.
"Oh yes," said Brand. "I know your name. I have been expecting you these many years.
Merlin let that go he wanted to find out about Arthur.
'Have you seen another come this way, a fair headed knight bearing the mark of a golden dragon on a red ground?'
'No we have not seen him. You have lost him?" the blacksmith asked gently.
Merlin did not realise how deeply words could hurt, these words meant he had failed in his destiny, in his duty to protect Arthur. He did not know where Arthur was or what state of mind he was in. They had wandered into the Forest like blind men, they had been warned of the danger, and been given the chance to speak, to unburden themselves and they had foolishly thrown it away. Now Arthur was lost and he could not protect him. He looked down at his hands then covered his face.
'I have failed him,' said Merlin sadly.
"Now… now," said the smith. "That is no way to solve anything. What is it ails you deepest? The loss of your prince or the loss of your craft?"
Merlin looked up at him with wide eyes. Who was this man? Where was this place? Another trick of the forest another illusion? Merlin stumbled to his feet suddenly the forge was not where he wanted to be.
'What do you know about Arthur, about my magic? Tell me!'
The smith had not reacted to Merlin's shocked expression, his leap to his feet and frightened eyes. He just kept his deep resonant voice at the same timbre: steady, like the man himself. Merlin sat down again.
"I know you travelled with the Prince and I know that the forest can take everything from you and will strip you bare as a babe if needs be.'
"Is it gone forever?" asked Merlin with such despair in his voice the smith felt a wave of compassion.
"What? No! No my lad," said the smithy, "tis not gone, could never leave you. It is as much a part of you as this is….. and this." As he spoke Brand ran his hand over Merlin's head and grabbed his arm and shook it.
"Still you must have succeeded for you are here…..and…so is Lillian." He said looking up at his wife as she entered.
Lillian carried a basket of food, bread, cheese, cake and ale and set it before them.
"Now Brand my love he must sleep soon, things can be sorted out in the morning just as well." As she turned to leave she looked at Merlin's darkened eyes. "Well perhaps we have to brighten that look first, or sleep will not come."
"So ask away Emrys," said Brand and I will answer you and you will drink and eat and sleep and in the morning ask some more. Then I will show you the way back to the castle.
"We did not reach the castle" said Merlin, puzzled, " so how can I go back there?"
"You have spent days in it," said Brand, "the castle and the Forest are one and the same.
'So how is it we came upon the forest and not the castle?'
'He who seeks the stone finds the forest waiting and he who does not passes through the ruins untroubled. Come eat and we will talk."
Merlin could not stay awake long enough to ask many questions, Once his belly was full he felt an overwhelming tiredness and almost fell off his chair. Brand made a bed for him in the forge and Lillian placed a jug of cold water by his side. 'She knows exactly what I need.' thought Merlin. He thanked her and she repaid with that same smile, a smile that was at once, playful and wise. It was impossible to tell how old she was but she was perhaps a little younger than his mother. Merlin thought of Hunith and the way used to tell him stories before he went to sleep. They would blow out the candle and she would weave stories out of the darkness. 'How would his mother react to the change in him? She would be so disappointed. Would she feel the same about him now? Merlin fell into a troubled sleep. The truth was that his mind and his spirit needed some respite not just his body, but that respite might be a long time coming.
*
At first light Rupert and Gawain began to scour the ruins for a sign of Arthur or Merlin. They found the tracks of the horse leading out of the ruins, and searched the ground within for some sign, crushed grass, scuff marks on the moss-covered flags, but they found nothing. It was as though the horse had walked out of the ruins from some other place, as though it had climbed through a window.
Rupert was deeply troubled. He hated mystery, he liked a simple life but he was not foolish enough to insist on the evidence of his eyes, he knew what strange things inhabited the world and he was prepared to have them revealed to him, if the cause was right.
'We will journey a little way beyond the ruins,' he said 'search for evidence of our Prince and his man. But if we cannot within a half day we must return here for something is amiss with this place and we must solve it.'
Gawain nodded silently, he was quickly becoming out of his depth. His talent was not deep thinking, he was the best swordsman after Arthur and Rupert and though he was sometimes fearful he was a model of courage and daring.
'I have looked over Merlin's horse Sir Rupert,' said Gawain, 'and there is not sign of battle or of accident, no wound, no blood of any kind.'
'Good, then lead it behind your own,' replied Rupert, 'we may have need of it.'
The two knights paused before the ruined castle then turned and rode off to the west.