Merlin: Dawn of the Dragonlord

Chapter 17: Something Stupid

Chapter 17: Something Stupid

In the end of the afternoon, Arthur, Gwaine and Lancelot were walking steadily towards the inn where they had left their horses.  There was a very enjoyable breeze which made the walk uphill less of an effort.

“How long do you think the king will last?” Lancelot said in an attempt to stimulate the conversation.  The prince had been strangely quiet ever since the news that the king’s illness had gone from bad to worse.

“Merlin said that he may not last the night,” replied Gwaine, “which is a good thing, I hear.  It will put an end to his long suffering.  Not to mention the fact that Lord Brunor is ready to rule.”

“You don’t think that the king will name Merlin as his heir?” asked Lancelot innocently.

Arthur couldn’t help snorting.  “Merlin is many things, as it turns out: a sorcerer, a Dragonlord, a physician, an annoying servant.  But he’s not a knight and certainly not a king.”

“You’ve got to admit that he makes one exceptional noble,” replied Gwaine obstinately.

“Yes, but he’s too naïve and that will only get him killed,” said Arthur sternly.

“What does that make you, I wonder?”

“Gwaine!” let out Lancelot indignantly.

“No, he’s right,” uttered Arthur under his breath.  

The other two fell silent.  Arthur was glad for his knight’s respect of his need to think.  He wasn’t sure of what he was doing or how he was going to do it.  It was strange for him to be thinking of magic and curses when such things were forbidden in Camelot.  His father would be furious.  His friendship to a sorcerer alone was enough to be called treason.  Would Uther order the death of his own son if he ever found out about Merlin?  Arthur was trying hard not to think about it.  It was the kind of action that could bring about the end of Camelot.  He wasn’t going to be the cause of that; then again, his father might not leave him a choice.  

Either way, at dawn, he was going to walk down a dangerous path.     

“Hurry up!  We have to get back before dark,” he called to the others while picking up the pace.

“Forget it!” yelled Gwaine in reply.  “I’m not going back until I have had a pint.”

The prince did not even object to the idea.  His main concern was to appear to be doing something else than what he actually had in mind to do.

“CURSE YOU!”

He had been so absorbed by his own thoughts that he had barely spotted the old man lurking behind the trees before the yell broke the silence.

“Curse you, Pendragon!” bellowed the old man again.  

His hair was white, his clothes worn, his back bent and his eyes wild with rage.  He was not a man to be feared by Arthur’s standards, but still Gwaine and Lancelot drew out their swords as a precaution, mostly because the old man looked out of his mind.

“Let him speak!” said the prince.

The old man took a step forward.

“The Dragonlords have betrayed the deep magic,” he said, his voice shaking.  “They are the reason why the dragons are no more and I tremble for the race of men.”

“They were the ones who were betrayed…” Arthur began to say.

“Yes!  Men betrayed by lesser men.  The Dragonlords were supposed to be something more.  Now they are the reasons why the dragons are gone forever and why the valley is cursed.  The evil that lives in the Black Lake will swallow us all.  Not even Lord Balinor’s bastard can change…”