Merlin pc-2 Read online

  Wolf beside me growled deep in her throat, and the druid stepped back. 'Get rid of that animal if you would save its life.'

  'Do not raise your voice or hand against me again, Duach, if you would save yours.'

  Pelleas had watched all this silently and now came close. 'I do not care for their manner, lord. Perhaps it is a mistake logo with them.'

  I put my hand on his shoulder. 'Worry not, Pelleas. Nothing will happen to me that is not ordained. And as I said, we go with them not because they want me to, but because I choose it.'

  He remained sceptical, so I added, 'Besides, it is the quickest way I know to announce to the world that Myrddin Emrys has returned to the land of the living.'

  FIFTEEN

  Vortigern, he of the thin red beard and narrow, wary eyes, had been an able battlelord once upon a time. Now he sat on his handsome throne, a jaded, sated old glutton; world weary, wretched, and sick with dread. His once-strong shoulders drooped and his paunch spread beneath his richly-woven mantle, the firm muscle of a warrior running to flesh and fat.

  His pouched eyes still maintained the guile and cunning that had brought him to this place, however; and, for all his troubles, he still managed the air of a king, sitting in his great hall surrounded by his minions and mercenaries.

  My first glimpse of the man who had brought so much ruin upon the Island of the Mighty did little to alter my opinion of him: in truth he was a bane and a curse upon the land. But as I watched him struggle with his dignity – a battle-scarred old badger backed to the wall – I understood him better, and I determined not to hold against him the things he had done. Justice would find him soon enough, of that I was certain sure, and it was not for my hand to hold die balance.

  Looking back on it now, I see he was a shrewd and calculating man who had survived desperate times. If he had acted too much for love of himself first and his people last – and he had, oh yes, he had – some of his designs at least stemmed the on-rushing Saecsen tide. Because that, too, had been in his selfish interest.

  True, he was reaping the harvest of his folly now, but not all of his decisions had been bad. He had done what he could with the sorry mess he had found, always making the best of a bad bargain. Indeed he had little enough help from the mewling, squabbling lords and chieftains around him. And if I in my madness had not forsaken my people and my land, who knows? – perhaps Vortigern would not have found the foothold he needed to ascend to the high throne.

  Things might have been very different, indeed, if I had not deserted Britain.

  None of that could be helped. What had happened, had happened, and there was no undoing it. Nevertheless, the day of reckoning was dawning for Vortigern and he knew it. But at least I would not raise my hand against him, and I would show him what mercy I could. God knows, he was a man in need of a friend.

  The four who had sought me – the druid and three of Vortigern's bodyguard – brought me with all haste to where he waited in Yr Widdfa. We had travelled quickly and uneventfully, leaving the forest for the open hills two days after starting out. I was glad to see the wide, empty hillscape once more; after the closeness of the forest, the open spaces seemed like freedom itself.

  It was not all gladness to me, however, for in the end I bade farewell to Wolf. A creature of the forest, she stopped at Celyddon's furthest edge and would go no further.

  Farewell, faithful friend, your long vigil is over. You are free to go your way.

  Upon reaching the king's camp, I was ushered before him without demonstration. The High King sat in the sunshine outside his tent, surrounded by mounds of stone and building material, and scores of labourers. Vortigern rubbed his grizzled chin and stared at me, a curious gleam lighting his hooded eyes. In his demise he had gathered to himself a body of druids, looking once more to the old ways for his hope, no doubt. Vortigern's druids regarded me with icy contempt; they knew me and hated me with the lively enmity of lost men confronting their doom.

  'You are the one they call the Emrys?' Vortigern asked, finally. He was not, I suppose, much impressed by what he saw before him, expecting, as men do, someone of greater stature, or more marked appearance.

  'I am known by many names,' I replied. 'Emrys is one of them, Merlin is another. Among my people I am called Myrddin.'

  'Do you know why I have sought you?' He turned the heavy amber ring on his finger, and waited for me to answer.

  'Work on your stronghold is going badly. Your druids blame an evil spirit for the failure of your masons to raise a decent wall.' I shrugged and added, 'In short, you require the blood of a virgin-born man to secure your foundations.'

  This threw the druids into an indignant fluster. I think they really believed they could deceive me in the matter. But Vortigern only smiled at their consternation. 'What did you expect?' he told them. 'Is there any doubt this is the man we require?'

  'He is an evil spirit himself,' said Vortigern's chief druid, a malevolent creature named Joram. 'Do not listen to him, my king, or he will confuse you with his lies.'

  Old Vortigern waved the druid silent and said, 'And are you indeed a fatherless child?'

  'My father was Taliesin ap Elphin ap Gwyddno Garanhir,' I told him. 'Names that used to be lauded in this land.'

  'I know these names,' Vortigern said respectfully. 'They were men of great renown in Cymry.'

  'Ah, but this Taliesin was not mortal!' declared Joram. 'It is well known to the Learned Brotherhood that he was an Otherworld being.'

  'That will be news to my mother,' I replied coolly, 'and to anyone who knew him.' Some of those attending Vortigern laughed aloud.

  'And where are they who knew him?' The chief druid stepped menacingly towards me with his rowan staff before him. It was so sad to see that fool mimicking the Learned Masters of old. Hafgan would quake with wrath to see it; he would have broken the man's staff over his insufferable head. 'Where are they who knew Taliesin?' demanded Joram triumphantly, as if proving me guilty beyond doubt. Guilty of what, I cannot say.

  'Dead and in their graves,' I admitted. 'It has been a long time. Men grow old and they die.'

  'But not you, eh, Myrddin Emrys?'

  'I am as you see me.'

  'I see a young man before me,' replied Vortigern, seeking, I think, to divert Joram and save my life, 'one who has not long used a razor – surely he cannot be the son of this Taliesin who died long before I myself was born.'

  'Lord and King,' replied Joram quickly, 'do not let his appearance dissuade you from your plan. He is of the Fair Folk who live long and do not age as other men.'

  'Hmmrn,' uttered Vortigern. I could see he was in a spot. He bore me no ill will, and was even sorry, now that he had seen me, to have carried the scheme this far. 'Well, perhaps, if he is the son of Taliesin, he knows a thing or two – how about it, Myrddin? Do you know a way out of our difficulty?'

  I addressed Joram with my answer. 'Let Joram say before us all why the stones fall each night and lay waste the day's work.'

  Joram puffed out his cheeks, but remained silent.

  'Come now,' I insisted. 'If you cannot tell us why the work fails, how is it you can declare with full certainty that my sacrificed blood will save it?'

  He glared at me, and turned to his lord in protest, but Vortigern silenced him. 'Well, we are waiting, Joram.'

  'It is well known already,' the false druid said. 'Each night while the workmen sleep, the evil spirit of this place troubles the foundation and overturns the stones. No matter how high the wall is built during the day, by morning it is rubble.' He took a deep breath and continued condescendingly. "Therefore, the remedy is sure – the blood of a man virgin-born will bind the stones fast and the evil spirit will trouble it no more.'

  'The evil is in your mind, Joram,' I told him. 'There is no evil spirit at work here, and no man virgin-born, save one only.'

  Vortigern smiled craftily. 'Tell us, Wise Myrddin, what is the cause?'

  'The ground hereabouts appears solid, but beneath it lies a po
ol filled with water. For this reason the ground gives way beneath the weight of the stone and the walls cannot hold.'

  'Liar!' shouted Joram. 'It is a trick to save his life!'

  'The truth of what I say can be easily proven,' I replied calmly. 'Vortigern, send your men to dig a ditch and you will see I speak the truth.'

  Pelleas, who had stood by me all this time, managed to look both relieved and worried by this turn of events. 'Are you certain, master?' he whispered, as Vortigern called for workmen to carry out my orders.

  'I know what I am doing, Pelleas,' I told him. 'But watch, there is more to come.'

  I pointed out to the workmen where to dig and they set about it at once. It took some time for the hole to reach the proper depth, and with each shovelblade full the druid's satisfaction increased. For it appeared there would be no water.

  But when the hole reached man height, one of the workers with an iron pick swung down and struck a piece of rock. The rock broke and he pulled out his pick to swing again and all at once water began bubbling up into the hole. In the end, the men had to scramble out to keep from being drowned.

  Vortigern's court looked on in wonder as the gushing water filled the hole to the very top.

  'Well done, Myrddin!' cried Vortigern. He turned sharply to Joram and demanded, 'What do you have to say to that, traitor?'

  Joram had nothing to say. He held his tongue and fumed darkly at me. His fellows, clustered around him, muttered oaths and incantations against me, but they had no power and their spells fell like spent arrows at their feet. I understood then how very low the art of the bard had fallen, and it saddened me.

  Taliesin, forgive your weaker brothers if you can. Ignorance spreads to every quarter on the wind, and truth is spurned and reviled.

  Vortigern asked me then to name my reward, and I answered, 'I will not take silver or gold from you, Vortigern.'

  Take land then, friend,' he offered.

  'Nor land,' I said. I wanted nothing from his hand. Indeed, how could I take from him a thing that was not his to give?

  'Very well, let it be as you say. But I will have you share meat with me tonight. And,' his eyes gleamed wickedly, 'there will be an entertainment.'

  I was given a tent in which to rest and refresh myself before supper. Pelleas and I retired and I slept, waking when a servant brought a basin for me to wash. Then we were led back to the hall and given seats at the high table next to Lord Vortigern. The druids were still there, still furious, their faces dark with rage and menace, but they were huddled next to the hearth and did not share Vortigern's table tonight.

  'Welcome, friend Myrddin!' cried Vortigern when he saw me. The guest cup was pressed into my hand. 'Was Hael! Drink, friend! And fill your cup again!'

  I drank and returned the cup. It was filled again, but I left it on the board and took my place beside the king. The meal was remarkable only for the quantity of food prepared. Vortigern and his retinue appeared to have endless appetites, but easily pleased palates. The fare was common – black bread, roasted meat – all cooked well enough, but ungarnished and unspiced.

  Vortigern gave himself to his meal; I see him now, hunched over his plate, tearing meat from his knife with his teeth. Poor Vortigern, there was not a noble sinew in his body. How far he had overreached himself.

  He did not speak during the meal, but when at last he wiped the grease from his lips with his sleeve, he turned to me. 'Now for a drink and some diversion, eh, Myrddin?'

  Pelleas, who had served me through the meal so that he could remain by my side, did not like the sound of that. He gave me a warning look, but Vortigern had no mischief in mind for me.

  The High King called for his chief bard and Joram shuffled forth warily. 'Do not think I have forgotten your treachery to me, druid,' said Vortigern, as the bard came to stand before him.

  'If you would find treachery,' answered Joram sullenly, 'you have but to look no further than the one sitting at your right hand.'

  'Enough of your slander!' the king snapped. 'I will hear no more from you.' He beckoned the captain of his bodyguard to him and declared before all the court, 'These men, who I entrusted with my life, have shown themselves false before me. They are worse than traitors. Draw your sword and kill them at once.' This was Vortigern all over – efficient, if ruthless, and eager to secure the friendship of powerful men who could help him. The soldier's steel came ringing from its sheath.

  He hoped by this display to win me, for he turned to me and said, 'As these blind magicians were so eager for your blood, surely they will not mind my asking for theirs.'

  There was nothing I could do for them; Vortigern was determined. But I wanted them to know, at last, who it was they had sought to destroy. 'If you please, Lord Vortigern, the reward you offered – I would claim it now.'

  'By whatever god you worship, Myrddin, you shall have it. What do you propose?'

  'A story,' I replied. 'Before they die, I would have them contemplate the power of a true bard.'

  Vortigern had hoped for something more exotic, but he smiled graciously and ordered a harp to be brought to me. I took my place before the table and tuned the harp, as Vortigern's company gathered around me. I do not think that even then I knew precisely what I would say but, as I fingered the strings of the harp, searching for a melody, the words began forming on my tongue of their own accord and I knew that I had been led to this place and the words would be given in turn.

  The harp nestled against my shoulder, I turned to Joram and said, 'As you show so little respect for the high bardic arts of old, I will tell you a true tale.' Lifting my voice to the hall, I said, 'Listen well, all of you.'

  I gathered my cloak around me, closed my eyes and began to speak as one would speak to children. And this is the tale I told:

  There was an eagle, and the father of eagles, who lived long, protecting his realm with beak and claw. One day a shrew came to Eagle and squatted beneath the oak where Eagle maintained his eyrie. And there he stayed until Eagle should speak to him.

  'What do you want?' demanded Eagle. 'Tell me quickly, for I shall not suffer the like of you beneath my noble abode.'

  'It is but a little thing,' replied Shrew. 'Only come down closer so that I may speak my matter plainly. For I grow dizzy shouting up at you like this.'

  Eagle, being impatient to have an end to the matter, did as he was bade and flew down to meet Shrew. 'Well, here I am,' said Eagle. 'What do you want?'

  'My voice is raw,' said Shrew, 'from all this shouting. Please come nearer.'

  Eagle put his head near and, all at once, Shrew leapt upon his neck and bit it with his sharp teeth, so that Eagle was wounded grievously and died as his blood rushed out. Thereupon Shrew ran away so that no one ever saw him again.

  When the other beasts and birds learned that Eagle had been wickedly killed, they were aggrieved and angry, for the exalted bird had been their king. They buried their lord and looked among themselves for a new king. 'Who can take Eagle's place?' they lamented. 'For none there is the like of our lord."

  But the fox was crafty and cunning. Seeing his chance, up he jumped and said, 'Does not our lord leave heirs behind? Let his oldest son be our lord.'

  'For a fox, you are a foolish one,' replied the otter. The young eagles are only nestlings. They cannot even fly.'

  'But they will soon grow up. Meanwhile, let us elect someone to stand guard over them, until the eldest of the three has come of an age to take up the lordship of the forest.'

  'Well said,' declared the ox. 'Who will do this thing which you suggest?'

  To speak plainly, none of the other creatures were willing to take on the care of nestlings, for the oak was high and eaglets are touchy birds and always hungry. 'Shame on you all,' cried Fox. 'Since none of you will undertake the care of the eaglets, I will do it – even though I am not the most worthy creature among you.'

  So Fox set about raising the nestlings and, when the eldest of the three had come of age, the animals of field and fo
rest came together beneath the noble oak and held council to make Eagle their king.

  No sooner had they placed the crown on his head than did Fox take him aside and whisper to him, 'Do not be deceived, the other animals of the forest love you not at all. Why, when you and your brothers were nestlings they would have let you starve. You were not esteemed then, and I think the matter has not improved.'

  These are worrisome tidings,' replied young Eagle. 'Were it not for you, I would not be alive today.'

  True, but let us keep our wits about us. If you will take my counsel, I will guide you. Together we shall prevail against all comers.'

  So young Eagle took Fox as his chief advisor to do swiftly whatever he deemed best to do for the good of the forest and them in it. Needless to say, Fox grew fat on his portion, and his red pelt grew sleek and rich.

  By and by there came grumblings from beyond the forest that a great herd of pigs, having despoiled their own realm, were eager for new lands to seize. Fox came to young Eagle and said, 'Lord, I like not the things that I am hearing about these pigs.'

  'Nor do I,' replied Eagle. 'You are the canniest of creatures, what is to be done?'

  'Well, now that you say it, I believe a plan has come to me."

  'Speak it out, friend. For all we know the pigs may be on their way here now.'

  'In the marshlands on the edge of the forest dwell a fan-number of rats -'

  'Rats! I will have nothing to do with those vile creatures!'

  'Oh, they are vile indeed. But it seems to me that if we were to take but a few of them into our service they would give us tidings regarding these pigs and we should be well informed of their intentions and so protect ourselves against them.'

  That is a bold plan,' answered Eagle, 'and as I have none better, so be it.'

  So it was. A company of rats came into the forest that very day.