Chapter 15: Tavern Brawl
In the morning, they rode with haste and spoke very little. Soon the trees started to become shorter and the weather colder. The fog was clearing up and there were hardly any clouds. Under the blue sky, the wild and untamed plains seemed to stretch out forever. King Arthur even made a mental note to return here with Guinevere. The beauty of the scenery and the wild flowers on each side of the path were reminding him of her.
In the middle of the afternoon, they reached a spot where the road had been flooded. It wasn't deep, but it was too muddy for the horses to cross without having their horseshoes sucked in. Merlin would have used his magic to make the road dry, but Nuada indicated to him that his horse-friends were getting as tired and as hungry as their riders. So it was decided that they would get a little sidetracked by following another straighter road.
This particularly made Gwaine happy since it meant that they would eat and sleep at the inn, having failed to reach their destination at nightfall. As soon as he spotted the thatched house, the knight kicked his horse with enthusiasm.
"Where there's a road, there's an inn," he shouted back at Arthur and the others.
The Moon & Stars Inn was a crowded enough place considering how far north it was. There were at least two dozen guests just in the common area wearing all kinds of different clothing. Some of them wore long robes, or green druid cloaks, or black veils across their faces, or long scarves rolled up on top of their heads. Arthur caught the glance of a black-hooded traveler who was wearing red scarf over his nose and mouth, but the slim fellow quickly dodged out of sight. There were a few knight-like men in one corner, who were all looking rather smug. Arthur pulled his hood closer to his face, hoping not to be recognized. He was, after all, King Arthur of Camelot.
The innkeeper, a large man with curly orange hair and beard, looked rather unimpressed by the four riders that were presently sitting down at the only available table left.
"We servff ale and ffstew. Hope you're not looking for noffthing too fancy because you ainff't gonna get it."
"Room for the night?" asked Gwaine, flashing his best smile.
"Hmmmmmmff. Sure", growled the orange man. "But you'll havff to share. We ainff't fancy here, my Lords."
Arthur's senses suddenly became alert. "We're not lords," he said bluntly.
The orange man scoffed loudly. "Sure you ainff't," he snorted. "And these lads ainff't either." He tossed his head in the direction of the group of knight-like fellows who were hurdled close together, immersed in deep conversation.
As the innkeeper returned behind his counter, Arthur's glance fell on Merlin and he noticed for the first time that the dragonlord was pulling the hood of his cloak over his head a little too insistently.
"Relax, Merlin," Arthur said in his best patronizing tone. "I doubt anyone here knows any of us."
He had barely finished his sentence that a loud voice rose above the noisy crowd. One of the other knights, a short man with a gold fleur-de-lys on his white cape, had risen from his seat. His head was firmly on the hilt of his sword.
"Ten thousand gold pieces! That's how much I can offer. And my castle on the coast. I dare you to do better." He spat on the floor menacingly. Three of the richly-clad men from that table shrunk on their chairs; the other two rose and pulled out their swords.
"We will fight to the death. The winner shall have the Lady's hand," declared the first knight.
The other knight who stood next to him smiled maliciously. "The winner shall have the ten thousand gold pieces. Then I will buy the Lady's hand."
"How dare you!" bellowed a young man in a silk tunic. He rose with such force that his chair fell over on the floor, but his frame was that of a boy of fifteen or sixteen. "I have never heard such dishonour among men of noble houses! You should be ashamed! My father, Lord Wessex, would not tolerate such disrespect…"
Arthur distinctively saw Gwaine roll his eyes up as the young lord went on and on about his family's fine morals. When he couldn't bear the babbling anymore, the tall knight strode over to the table, looking as casual as ever.
"Oh boy," Merlin breathed out.
"Gentlemen," Gwaine said haughtily. "I could not help but notice that you are all bargaining the love of a Lady. May I ask who the Lady might be?"
The young noble seemed to find the interruption quite impertinent, but not as much as the question itself. "Why, you must be a simpleton! It is the Lady Morgana, of course!"
Then several things happened. Merlin choked, splattering a mouthful of ale on Arthur's face. Six knights pulled out their swords. The other guests scattered hastily, aiming for the front door. And Gwaine, standing alone in the middle of the room, burst out laughing.
"One such as you cannot possibly hope to be accepted by the Lady Morgana," the white knight with the fleur-de-lys said, glancing at Gwaine with disdain. "Clearly, she is above your station."
But he stopped short when Gwaine laughed even harder. "Oh you have no idea," he said slyly. "The way I see it, fine noblemen, you've all reached a dead end." He glanced back at Arthur, Merlin and Galahad and actually winked. "The Lady's heart does not belong to any of you."
"Gwaine…" Arthur said warningly.
The young king's glance sought Merlin's face, but the warlock was deep in thought and not at all concerned by the prospect of a tavern brawl.
Meanwhile, the white knight's face had become quite red. "Who dares address me this way? Who are you? I should kill you where you stand for your impertinence." He glared in Arthur's direction. "And you little friends too."
Surprisingly, it was Galahad who stood up first at that comment. He pulled his sword in one swift motion, and the fierce look on his face was enough to give anyone goose bumps. The knight from Aria's Cradle pressed a hand on Merlin's shoulder and then he went to stand beside Gwaine.
"That wasn't a very nice thing to say to my friends," said Galahad, leaning on his sword nonchalantly as though he meant to imitate Gwaine.
The two knights in disguise exchanged a quick glance, and for a moment Arthur thought that Gwaine's playfulness would resume, but then Galahad unexpectedly took the lead.
"Let's just get to the fun part, shall we?"
Dropping his sword to his side, he clenched his left hand into a fist and swung a heavy blow into the white knight's face. All at once, swords slashed through the air, chairs flew across the room, goblets were flung at the wall, tables were turned over, and bodies began rolling on the ground. Arthur sprung to his feet and ducked out of the way of a flying plate.
Instinctively, he yelled, "Merlin! Do something!" but the warlock was nowhere in sight. The hooded king scanned the room at a glance and spotted his young servant almost right away. Merlin was sprinting through swirling dust and crumbling rubble, clearly looking for something. What was he up to?
A thin young knight lashed at Arthur, but the king sent him sprawling on the floor in less than a second. When he looked up again, Merlin was on the other side of the room, his grey hood still covering his head, his sword clasped behind his back, and he was magically moving furniture to try to get to a hooded and veiled black figure. The young warlock was so fixed upon this person that he had not seen another attacker. A large man was coming towards him with daggers in both hands.
"Merlin!" screamed Arthur on top of his voice.
Gwaine and Galahad looked up in unison. Merlin too, it seemed, had heard the cry because he wheeled around instantly, avoiding the daggers but only barely. He spun on his heels, unsheathing his sword as he moved, but he knocked his foot on a fallen chair and landed awkwardly on the floor. This is not a good position to be in with someone wanting to kill you, thought Arthur hastily.
Leaping over a fallen body, the young king caught a tankard of mead and flung in the direction of Merlin's attacker. It landed right on target, spilling its content on the thug's face.
The diversion was long enough for Merlin. The sorcerer's eyes glowed and the next second, the daggers were burning red.
"Arrrrgh! What magic is this?" bellowed the large thug as he dropped his weapons.
What followed next was a wave of growling and panicked shrieks as all of the weapons started to fall on the ground one after the other. From the longest sword to the smallest dagger, they all fell under the same spell, burning the hands of their owners and clattering onto the stone floor. Only Gwaine, Galahad and Arthur were spared from the powerful magic.
As the last of the innkeeper's knives fell with a clang, a tense silence filled the room; and then, whispers. "Magic," was the word that rang into Arthur's ears. Indeed, it was the word on everyone's lips.
The moment was broken by a high-pitched scream.
The large thug, the first one who had attacked Merlin, was now holding the black-veiled fellow by the throat in the fold of his arm.
By the look of horror on Merlin's face, Arthur knew right away that something was wrong.
"Don't do that," said the sorcerer.
The thugs pressed his face in the black fellow's neck and took a long sniff. "The way I see it, you're coming with me or she dies. There are quite a few kingdoms where a sorcerer will fetch a good price." He sniffed again. "And I keep this one as leverage. I can smell a woman even if she's dressed like a man."
Suddenly, the woman in black swung her arms upwards, caught the thug's ears and pulled. When she had a firm hold, and the grip on her neck was loosened, she leaned forward, causing the large body to tip over on top of her. The large attacker would have crushed her, but with one swift motion, Merlin sent a wave of magic that threw the man crashing into the nearby wall instead.
The young dragonlord then rushed at the woman's side. The red scarf on her nose and mouth fell, as did her black hood, revealing a cascade of dark hair and an all-too-familiar face.
The word that was on every lip was on Arthur's mind as well.
Morgana.