Guardians of Albion
Ice and Fire
Logan examined his claws. He had expected them to have reverted to the white of naked bone, but they hadn't. They were still coated with metal, but not the gunmetal colour of adamantium. They now had a soft sheen of silver, but were still razor-keen.
"What?" He asked.
"The metal in your body was poisoning you." Feanor said. "But it was also preventing your difference, your mutation, from turning you into a savage animal. 'Twas needful, therefore, to replace it with something else.
"The metal is called mithril or truesilver, also a discovery of the Naugrim, but of a different clan from Telchar. It is as strong as your adamantium, but lighter, and it will not poison you. Mithril is also a magical metal, and I have enchanted what I put into you, so that it will hold the beast at bay.
"You will be as strong as you were before, but swifter and more agile. Your healing powers will become greater, it may even be that, should you train your will to that end, you will become able to heal others. You will also find that your senses expand in new ways, enabling you to see the unseen and divine the thoughts and nature of men."
"Ok." Logan said. "But why? Why do it at all, and why pick me?"
It was the White Lady who answered. "It is what you were born for, Sir Logan, your destiny. Consider, the other Proud Walkers all speak for and draw their power from Nature. Save for Fate itself, which is concerned with Time and events foreshadowed. But you are complete unto yourself, your power comes from within, and cannot be taken from you, nor can you be cut off from it. This is the power of Man. Man unbound from any Telling. Man to whom science and magic are but two sides of a coin. Man to whom Fate is no absolute doom, but something to be changed and remade by their choices. Man who alone created Justice.
"Justice is not Law. The Fae have Law, but Law concerns itself only with the deed done and disregards intention. Men alone separate the two, and try to make Law serve Justice. Now you are Justice made flesh, to judge not by actions, but by intent and effect.
"So was it written. So it shall be done!"
XXXXX
The Phantom Stranger came out of the hill holding a golden chalice, large but unadorned. He came over to the group and immediately handed it to Spitfire.
"This is the Bleeding Chalice." He said. "I give it to you because your father once used it, and it will remember him and recognise you."
"You know my father?" She asked.
"I do." He replied. "We met once, long ago, to my discomfiture, then again more recently and to my comfort. Even we Guardians do not always follow the right path. Your father, however, always knows it, and so do you.
"Look into the cup."
"There's a crack at the bottom." Spitfire noted. "Looks like a wound."
"Just so." The Stranger said. "When near to pain, wound or sickness, a cordial like to red wine will bleed from that crack to fill the Chalice. A draught of it, given to the deserving by the worthy, will heal any wound or sickness upon the instant. Use it well."
He turned to the rest. "The Chapel is now empty of its Treasures, but remains Perilous. Come not here again unless called! The sword Albion had been taken before you came here, and I must find out by whom and why. Nevertheless, this night was fated, and what follows shall follow. We will do as we must. You may do as you choose. But upon your choices our future rests.
"Farewell for this time. Blessed be."
"I got places to be." Justice told them. "See you around."
XXXXX
"I fear we have overreached ourselves, Mordred." There was a shade of fear in Morgians' voice that her brother did not like. Their mother had feared nothing! So she went into battle against Merlin and was killed. He reminded himself. Perhaps a little fear is to the good!
"How so?" He asked aloud.
"The Chapel Perilous is indeed unsealed, and I now command greater power." She said. "But there has been a price. Herne led a band of mortal warriors there -they arrived soon after your departure."
"Then the Drow would have taken them. Herne has power to match the Drow, but not defeat them, and no mortal could do so!" He told her.
"So I would have thought." She replied. "But these mortals are as mighty as the Knights of Arthurs' Table. Even so, the Drow might have whelmed them with numbers, had not the Grey Pilgrim arrived, and another with him."
"Mithrandir is abroad?" Mordred snapped. "Then the mortal Cream has failed or betrayed us! What manner of death shall he suffer?"
"Time enough to decide when we find him," Morgian said, "but none to spend in search now! Mithrandir called the Spear from the Chapel and gave it into the hands of one of the mortals. If he is indeed mortal, for his body is of metal and I cannot sense his mind or spirit. With it, this Steel Champion slew the Drow Witch-Queen and banished her warriors."
"'Twas bravely done!" Mordred declared. "We face worthy foemen, sister! Our victory will be the sweeter for it!"
"But our defeat no less bitter." She warned. "Mithrandir also fetched the Chalice, and gave it to another of the band. A woman of The Worlds Beyond, whose father I will not name, for his name is a word of terror even in Esharra!
"But since you had already taken Albion, the Chapel now lies empty, and the power in the Crystal Cave grows the more quickly! Our time is short, Mordred. We must be able to match Merlin before he arises. Also, we must enslave the mortals before the Kree are summoned, so that we may demonstrate their unworth to the Accusers and secure our dominion."
Mordred nodded. "So, do we unleash the Night Terrors again, in greater numbers?"
"To have them slain in heaps again?" She asked. "No, we must take bolder steps, brother. We need a force great enough to conquer this Island of the Mighty. Subjugation of but one nation will be enough to satisfy the Accusers."
"Niskaru, then?" He asked.
She shook her head. "No, I am still not strong enough to meddle too much in Esharra. We have already caught the attention of a Balrog, we were lucky that he was banished before he learned anything. If such a one were to discover that magic is awakening here, it would soon reach the ears of Gothmog, and he would tell his dread Master. We could never amass power enough to oppose that Dark Lord. No, we will leave the Niskaru and firedrakes where they are, for now at least.
"But now, I possess power enough to gain audience with King Gadflow!"
"The Tuatha Deohn? The Outcasts?" Mordred was surprised. "Their numbers are sufficient, and they are the most savage and fell-handed of the Fae. But against the weapons these mortals wield how would they fare?"
"But poorly, as you assume." Morgian allowed. "But that we can change, Mordred. While you yet slept, I caused a training camp to be built, far to the North on land that was once my fathers'. It was then my plan to gather the descendants of our familys' bannermen to the cause, and to have their men-at-arms trained there. Alas, the old families are gone, for the most part. Those that remain owe us no fealty, for the land is now ruled by one monarch – a Queen but recently returned from exile – and they hold themselves her liegemen.
"I had then thought to hire Free Lances and Gallowglasses instead. But these 'Private Military Companies', as they name themselves, are unprepared to take on the soldiers of Britain, who are still feared across the world.
"Yet the camp remains, and the weapons I purchased. I also have the loyalty of several Masters-at Arms. All I need do is promise Gadflow to train his Tuatha in the use of these weapons, and the tactics of the armies of this age, then promise that they may keep their weapons and have the supply of more. He will do whatever we require of him, in the hope that with these new weapons and tactics, the Tuatha Deohn will spread the dominion of their dragon-god Tirnoch throughout the Faelands."
"And while he does so, neither Celeborn nor Thingol will be free to intervene here!" Mordred exulted. "Have we the time, Morgian?"
"If we do not waste it, then yes." She said. "One thing that will buy us time, brother, is to weaken the Guardians. To that end, you must take up Albion and challenge Gawain! Strike him down, take Excalibur and the Ring of Fire. While we hold his Ring, he cannot return, and with both black blades in our keeping, we need not fear their power. The removal of one of the Three will also delay the Awakening of Merlin.
"This is no easy task, brother. Are you ready?"
"I am." Mordred stated. "But I mislike that blade. A mighty spirit dwells within it, and though it will serve me, I cannot wholly master it."
"You need only wield it once." Morgian assured him. "After, you may use your own blade again. Though if we capture Excalibur, you may find that more apt to your hand. 'Twas your fathers' sword, after all, and is yours by right of blood!"
XXXXX
"You will need a new table, Sir Michael." Herne announced as they sat down.
"This one does the job!" Moran pointed out.
"So it does." Herne allowed. "But 'tis the wrong shape! By design or accident, I know not, but I see in you the spirit, if not the form, of Arthur. These patterns emerge in every Telling, say the Fae, and although Men have the power to shape their own destiny, they need also the tools. Before the Judgement of the Kree, Arthur and his knights represented the greatest flowering of Man, and now you and your companions do the same. Arthurs' table was round, so should yours be, to show that all are equals in courtesy and esteem, if different in skills.
"Just as you resemble Arthur, so the Steel Commando here holds the place of Launcelot, mightiest in arms and cleanest in honour! It was no matter of chance that sent the Gaebolga into his hand."
"Hang on a min!" The Cat said. "Wasn't Launcelot shagging Arthurs' wife? Not what you call honourable, is it?"
Herne laughed. "Stories change with time, Will! Those tales, as you might guess, were told first in French romance, so of course, there must be adultery! Gwynhwyfar was Arthurs' Consort and Queen, but not his wife. She was as dour-handed a knight as any of the others, and held her own seat at the Table. Both Arthur and Launcelot were her lovers, at different times, and so were other knights. These folk did not follow the Carpenters' Faith and deny the joys of love!
"But it was to Gwynhwyfar – who also had a mighty father in a far land – that Merlin gave the keeping of the Chalice. Thus is Jenny here her likeness. As for you, Will, you remind me most of Sir Dagonet, the one-time Jester, knighted for his fearlessness in the cause of truth, who became a renowned warrior also. You speak your mind, Will. You know the ordinary folk and speak for them, truth to power.
"Michael, I have other tasks I must be about soon, but I offer my son to remain with you and join your Table."
"He's welcome to stay." Mike said. "And you're welcome any time!"
"An invitation I will take advantage of as need arises." Herne replied. "For now, though, I will remain with you until this present task be done."
"Thanks, we'll need you!" Mike said. "But right now, Jenny, you have things to tell us?"
"Yeah." Jenny said. "I'm not sure how relevant this will all be, right now, but since a Qys has been on Earth, and someone used their technology, it might be important.
"So the biggest empire – that we know of – is the Kree Empire. But it's more of a commonwealth since all the races in it have equal rights and status and are mostly self-governing. The empire is ruled by the Supreme Intelligence, which is like an energy-being formed by the thoughts and memories of all the greatest Kree, kind of a gestalt thing. The Kree themselves all work for one of three Orders – Defenders, Accusers and Mentors. Defenders protect the empire, the Accusers find and destroy threats and the Mentors do stuff like humanitarian aid and helping other races achieve their potential. Kree technology is a mix of magic and science – they're the only race that can do both. At least, that's what everyone thinks; but it seems like humans can do the same, and I think that's why Earth is a Kree protectorate.
"The Shi'ar are the Krees' allies -though things can get a bit tense sometimes. The Shi'ar run their Empire feudally, subject races are ruled by Shi'ar overlords, usually pretty well. There's a lot of internal politics and jockeying for power and position among the nobility. But the current Empress, Lilandra, is a clever woman who knows how to play the Great Houses off against each other and keep things stable.
"Then there's the United League of Gulf Worlds. About a thousand inhabited worlds in a cluster that sits in the gulf between two of the spiral arms. That's the only thing that unites them, that and the Warpsmiths. The Warpsmiths come from a world called Hod, and they have some kind of technology that enables them to warp time, space and matter. They use that to keep the other worlds in line, and it's a bit of a full-time job, apparently.
"The Qys you've seen. Their Empire has a single ruler, the Kingqueen, who's said to be a giant, protoplasmic mass the size of a continent, with no fixed shape but immense psychic abilities and intelligence. Due to their body wardrobe technology, the Qys are immortal and don't need much in the way of industry. Why build a mine when you can just wear a body that can burrow? They spend a lot of time improving and adjusting their various bodies, as well as creating new ones – mostly for aesthetic or artistic purposes. Also for sex -they love experiencing sex in different kinds of bodies and environments. Which is odd, because they can't breed any more.
"There's been a cold war going on between the League and the Qys for about a millennium. Really more of a game; both sides know the rules and they try to score points off each other. The idea of the Qys as deadly enemies helps keep the Gulf Worlds from taking pot-shots at each other, and it's a hobby for those Qys who like that sort of thing.
Then there's the Galadorian Commonwealth, which is way out on the Rim. Nobody knows much about them, but it seems Galador is some kind of Utopia, and they send an Armada out to find inhabited worlds. When they come across one that's advanced enough to accept the idea of aliens, they land, introduce themselves, provide help to solve urgent and immediate issues, and leave knowledge the locals can use to improve themselves. The planets are monitored by the Legion of Spaceknights, a thousand advanced cyborgs who serve as police, diplomats, peacekeepers and protectors. Only the Warpsmiths have ever reached Galador, so though there are relations, there's no trade and only sporadic contact.
"That's it really. There are two trading cultures. If you want honesty and fairness, you work with the Bentusi. If you don't mind that the stuff you're buying might have fallen off the back of a transport, you go to the Ferengi, who are just a tiny bit dodgy!
"There's also three mercenary groups. The Dorsai, who are sort of like Spartans, highly trained, ruthless but honourable and reliable elite fighters. The Judoon, who look like humanoid rhinos – disciplined, but not very bright, they make good guards and escorts. Then the Cybermen, who are all cyborgs; they're the smallest group, they operate on pure logic, are utterly ruthless but scrupulously fair and they're cheap. They take payment in obsolete tech, scrap metal, prisoners and the mortally wounded."
"What about your people? The Shobogan?" The Cat asked.
"The Shobogan, and their rulers the TimeLords, live on a planet called Gallifrey." Spitfire told him. "They're very ancient, very reclusive, and powerful enough so that everyone leaves them alone."
It was clear that she had told them all she intended to, and they all trusted her enough to believe that if she had withheld anything, it was for good reason. All of them had their little secrets, after all.
XXXXX
Stonehenge, the mortals called it now. Once it had been "The Giants' Dance", but it had always been, and still was, a place of reverence and awe. It was here because the Island of the Mighty and neighbouring Eire had been the most Eastern outposts of Atlantis, and had survived the destruction of that continent by the Kree. So it was here that Mordred the White Knight had chosen to do battle with the Red Knight.
He stood on the plain, in white armour, the black sword Albion upright before him, his hands crossed on the pommel. Then Gawain was there, opposite him, all in red, with Excalibur before him in the same stance.
"Greetings, cousin!" Gawain said. "Do we fight a plaisir or a outrance this day?"
"You speak like a Gaulish fop!" Mordred growled. "If we fight, cousin, it will be to the death! But I make you this offer: surrender to me my father's sword, and take oath to not oppose me or my sister, and you shall have my sworn word that we shall leave you in peace."
"You were always a fool, Mordred." Gawain said. "Excalibur is not mine to give, nor was it your fathers'. Eol Wintersmith gifted both swords to Merlin, and Merlin loaned Excalibur to Arthur, just as he now loans it to me. Besides, you are a knight forsworn and a murderer! How shall I trust your oath, kinsman?"
"Then do not!" Mordred replied. "I am done, but my sister has another offer. I see you still carry the favour of the Lady Nimue?"
"I'll brook no insult to her!" Gawain warned.
"And I'll offer none!" Mordred responded. "She is a Lady of grace and worth beyond all. Thus it is that my sister makes this offer. Pledge yourself and your Lady to our cause; you shall have honour and position, to be my knight-hand, a commander of our powers in the field, and the Lady Nimue shall be a counsellor to Lady Morgian. Forsake your treacherous allegiance to the Kree. You are not of them, but of us!"
"A plague upon your sister and her offers!" Gawain said flatly. "She also is a traitor and forsworn. The Kree may not be of this Earth, but their honour is beyond question. We fight, cousin, and may the Powers defend the right!"
Both men closed their visors and made to raise their swords. Which would not be raised. Both Excalibur and Albion stayed upright and immovable, howling in protest.
"As I thought." Gawain said. "The swords are brethren, and so are the spirits within them. They'll not fight each other."
"Then it is well that I brought my own blade with me!" Mordred answered, drawing his blade and charging. Instantly, a sword appeared in Gawains' hand. with which he parried the cut.
The blade of Mordred, Coldbringer, had a crystal blade that radiated a deathly chill. Gawains' sword, Heartsfire, was of bright steel, along which red flame ran. The blades crashed together, then Mordred leapt back several yards, drawing in his breath as he did so, then expelling it in a freezing blast toward Gawain.
Yellow fire erupted around the Red Knight, and where Mordreds' blast struck it, clouds of fog billowed into the air. Out of the fog, Gawain charged, swinging his blade two-handed. Mordred raised his shield, but Heartsfire split it across. Casting it away, Mordred took a two-handed grip on Coldbringer, and the duel began in earnest.
Both knights were skilled in arms, but where Gawain favoured two-handed sword-play, Mordred was accustomed to using a shield. Nevertheless, the battle was even, and despite the rapid flow of strike, parry and counter, neither one gave nor gained ground and no wounds were inflicted. Then Mordred changed tactics. His Fae-made armour was lighter than Gawains' dwarf-forged suit, with more mail and less plate. He began to move, to dodge and leap, to come at his foe from an unexpected or more vulnerable direction, Gawain contented himself with turning to meet each attack.
Had he faced any other opponent, Mordreds' agility might have been effective. But Gawain had the greater skill, and his armour, forged of Telchars' Metal and tempered in the blood of a firedrake, was proof against any Earth-forged weapon or Fae magic. Even upon the rare occasion when Mordred passed his guard, he could not penetrate the armour, while the fire that burned around Gawain weakened Coldbringer each time it entered the flames. Also, Mordred was tiring, while Gawain conserved his strength.
Desperate, Mordred suddenly leaped forward, striking with his armoured fist at Gawains' head. Gawain dropped his sword to hang by the wrist-thong, caught Mordreds' arm and threw him. The White Knight rolled and came to his knees, but too late. Gawain had moved with the speed of fire and struck downwards. Heartsfire sheared through the mail where neck joins shoulder and cut down deep into the chest.
Mordred dropped to his back, Gawain knelt and removed his helm, raising his own visor. Half-Fae, Mordred would not die easily, but die he would.
"Farewell, cousin." He said faintly. "We shall meet again."
"Such is my hope." Gawain said. "Find the peace of Mandos, kinsman. May you leave those halls a wiser spirit than you enter them."
"So mote it be." Mordred answered, and closed his eyes.
Some little distance away, a door opened in the air, and four Fae stepped through. In the lead was a Fae of great age, with a long white beard. Gawain rose and bowed.
"Majesty." He said.
Cirdan King of Sorrows returned the bow. "Sir Gawain." He replied. "I come to take Sir Mordred, so that his Sorrows might be collected and taken to King Namo, and his body given to the Midden to return to the Earth. Do you wish to take your perquisites?"
"I do not." Gawain said, "Let his arms be mended and await upon his departure from Mandos. The sword Albion I will take to return to Merlin."
"So it shall be written, so shall it be done." Cirdan replied, and his helpers took up the White Knight and carried him away.
XXXXX
Pamela hurt, she hurt everywhere. She could taste blood in her mouth and wondered if Carl had ruptured an organ inside of her. Carl himself stood over her, face contorted with rage, but eyes oddly blank.
"Either shut that fucking brat up, or get out the way so I can shut it up!" He roared.
In answer, she curled herself more tightly around Ellie. The only person she loved, the only one who loved her, the precious baby she would die to protect. She closed her eyes and waited for the blows and kicks she was sure would kill her this time.
Carl grunted and sighed. A sound she'd never heard him make before. She risked a look, and saw him standing, gazing stupidly down at his chest, where three silver points protruded in the middle of a spreading dark stain. Then the points vanished with a faint snicking sound. Carl went to his knees, then pitched forward to lie almost at her feet. Something told her he would never move again.
Pamela looked up from the body and saw a figure all in black. Not tall, but stocky and powerful-looking. A long hood covered his head and shadowed most of his face, revealing only a strong jaw and stern mouth. He stepped around Carl to squat beside her. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. A strange warmth spread from it over her body, and the pain faded to a dull ache she knew would go with sleep. The figure spoke, a rough, gravelly voice, but oddly gentle.
"You'll be fine." He said. "The kid's fine, too. Healthy as a horse. When I'm gone, call the cops. Tell 'em the truth and give 'em this." He handed her a sheet of paper, then he stood and seconds later he was gone.
Pamela settled Ellie in her cot first, then called the police. Only then did she look at the paper. It was thick, expensive paper. Written on it, in a bold copperplate hand, was the following:
To the Police,
Carl William Dunn was not killed by his wife. I executed him for his crimes.
He was a wife-beater, a thief and a murderer. Two days ago, he strangled a nineteen-year-old prostitute known as Rusty Gates. Her body is in the abandoned Cranshaw Mercantile warehouse on the Old India Dock.
By the hand of,
Justice.
XXXXX
"Mithrandir? How come you here?" Morgian was both angry and afraid. This was her private sanctum, where none may enter without her leave. Yet the Phantom Stranger stood facing her, here at the heart of it!
"Nothing may prevent me from going where I need to go." The Stranger told her. "Nor can I do you any harm, Lady Morgian. You know that I may fight only in defence of myself or others. So unless you wish to strike at me now, I require merely to tell you something of import."
"I am not fool enough to attack you, Mithrandir." Morgian said. "Your power in defence is too great, I have no strength to either harm or dismiss you. Come, tell your message and begone, lest my hatred overcome me, Kree!"
"You speak as one who has knowledge, but no understanding." The Stranger commented. "The Kree did not make me, but only requested my making. The Dragons did the rest.
"But no matter. I fear I bear ill tidings, Lady. Sir Mordred has done battle with the Red Knight, and fought valiantly, but to no avail. His spirit waits in Mandos, his body lies in the Midden, his arms are being mended and will await his rebirth. I mourn with you, he was a worthy knight before he fell to temptation."
"Temptation!" She shrilled. "Temptation to keep what was rightfully ours?" She stopped, tried to collect herself. "So Albion did not avail him?" She asked.
"Nor Excalibur Gawain." The Stranger replied. "The blades are brethren and will not fight each other. Albion has been returned to Merlin."
"And Gawain did not strip him?" Morgian seemed surprised.
"Gawain did not enter the combat willingly, in quest for loot or vengeance, or even honour, except in so far as he was responding to a challenge." Said the Stranger. "He sought nothing from it for himself, and Mordred named the terms of the combat. Albion, like Excalibur, belongs to Merlin, to be bestowed as he sees fit."
"Give Gawain my thanks." Morgian told him. "I know that in his eyes, Mordred was a traitor, a kinslayer and forsworn of his oaths. Yet Gawain treated him with honour, for which I am grateful. Leave me now, I would mourn in peace."
The Stranger bowed and vanished. Morgian sat in her chair, and began to weep.
XXXXX
"Palfrey is poking around." Fate told Kate Stewart.
"It's what they pay him for." Kate pointed out. "I knew that when I talked to him. That's why I told him what I did."
"So now he's searching for Gargunza and his data." Fate informed her.
"So what will he find?" Kate asked. "That I lied when I said nobody knew what happened to Gargunza? Palfrey will've expected me to lie to him. He'd have been disappointed if I hadn't. As for the data, will he find even a trace of it?"
"Of course not." Fate said. "I deleted it from Ultron before I shut him down, and from Brainiac as well – Lex was a bit upset about that, I think. Your lot have control of Gargunzas' old mainframe in Scotland, and it's a stand-alone so Palfrey can't find it. That leaves me and Jarvis, and Palfrey can't get into either of us. Or at least, he can get as far as Jarvis wants him to get, and he doesn't know I exist -he thinks Finch shut me down after Sutlers' death."
"But in the meantime, Palfrey won't be looking elsewhere. He won't be looking into old myths and legends, and he definitely won't be investigating magic! Oh, Steed will tell him what we've had Professor Potter looking into, but he'll brush it aside as disinformation. He'll see Commander Weasleys' reports and be thinking about Gargunzas' discoveries. He'll think that people who've read the books Potter is reading are using Gargunzas' knowledge to genetically engineer modern animals and people into mythical monsters to terrorise people. Mr Palfrey is a very clever man, but his imagination has severe limits!" Kate summed up.
"Why not just tell him the truth?" Fate asked.
Kate laughed. "Tell him the truth? The whole truth? That, my dear, would be an unpardonable breach of spook etiquette!
"In any case, Palfrey couldn't handle the truth. It would as they say, 'blow his mind'. He's useful where he is for now, but it'll be time for Major Behan to replace him shortly. The Major has far greater potential!"
"Fair enough." Fate allowed. "Now, about Union Jack. What will you do when he goes rogue? Because he will, you know, and he'll take his team with him. He's already recruiting without asking permission, and he's got hold of two artefacts he should have handed in."
"That's the whole point!" Kate said. "When I put Mike in charge of Excalibur, I put him in charge! We'll carry on supporting and financing him, but we won't even try to control him. We'll let Mike do the right thing, while the rest of us do what's necessary, but not always moral!"
"You and your father always had a grasp of how things work." Fate allowed.
"We had a good teacher." Kate said. "The very best."
