Chapter 34—Excalibur

Simone’s maw opened wide, and flame wreathed her snout. Her eyes narrowed with hatred as she blasted Arthur with a tumbling, burning torrent that rolled around him with the intensity of a whirlwind. The flames swirled, the heat drying his clothes and crisping his hair before it faded away.

Instantly, the steady rain soaked him through again. Hot, scalding steam rose from his tunic. It seemed that Lancelot’s hasty shout was true, that while he stood in the rain, she could not harm him, at least not fatally, but he couldn’t stand there forever.

Simone sent a jet of flame sweeping across the floor, forcing the knights to seek cover. They did not have the advantage of the steadily falling rain to protect them and so they ducked behind whatever barrier they could find. Simone spied Lancelot peering around a thick timbered post, and drove flames at his feet, forcing him to run to new protection. The flames followed him, only a step behind.

“Why are you wasting your time with them? It’s me you want. Come fight me, sorceress!” screamed Arthur, stepping out of the rain. He staggered toward the dragon with a limping, halting gait which favoured his injured leg, his right arm cradled to his side. He brandished his sword high over his head with his left hand, no longer caring if he died. Lancelot was alive. He would not allow Simone to harm him further. Arthur ran at the bones as they turned to face him, screaming at the top of his lungs, “For the love of Camelot!”

Simone’s head swung low, saffron eyes glittering hungrily, seeking revenge. “Die, Arthur Pendragon.”

She took three steps toward him, then blasted him with a wall of blistering flame.

Arthur thrust his sword ahead of him, aiming for her great, open maw.

The two forces of nature collided, and Arthur was enveloped in flame.

Lancelot screamed, the tortured sound ripping from his throat as Arthur disappeared, swallowed by the roiling mass.

With a crack and a groan of snapping timber, the remaining portion of the ceiling collapsed inward. Burning timber and thatch spilled down to smash onto the floor of the barn, forcing Lancelot to back away from the leaping flames, hissing in the rain. Sweat plastered Lancelot’s hair to his forehead as he looked up, shielding his eyes from the bright light of the fires.

There, on the broken edge of the roof sat a second dragon, talons curled around the broken timber, but this one was fully fleshed. The red dragon roared a deep-throated challenge, sending flames racing down toward where Arthur and Simone battled. As the dragon shifted, a man came into view, perched on the dragon’s back.

Merlin leaned his body over the side of the dragon then threw his hands forward. Time hung suspended for the length of a heartbeat, then the force of his spell enveloped Arthur and Simone both, wrapping them in a shimmering blue glow that bound them together. The pulsating cloud tightened around them, forcing their frozen battle to concentrate around the point of Arthur’s sword. Slowly, the encircling glow shrank. First Arthur’s rear foot appeared, followed by his leg and lower torso. Simone was also exposed, as the glow shrank. Her bony tail appeared and then her back legs, and then the spine of her torso. As her head came outside of the bubble, mouth frozen in a snarl of long teeth, Merlin shouted. “Now, Tanwen!”

With a snarling roar of her own, the red dragon tore apart the remaining portion of the roof with her razor-sharp claws. A waterfall of pent-up water cascaded silently over the side of the roof and down onto Simone’s back, dousing her in a steady stream of rainwater. Lancelot, seeing that the bone dragon was under attack and distracted, launched himself at Arthur, desperate to reach his prince.

Simone shuddered, naked bones rattling as her eyes flickered between saffron and gold. Steam rose from her body. The water hissed as it melted away her control and cooled her skeletal frame, vibrating. The rattling began with a low hum that expanded into a throbbing clatter, like the chattering of teeth when caught in a chill wind. The magic supporting the convergence of sinew and bone melted away, the structure collapsing. Simone’s scream shook the barn, blending the sound into the resonance being maintained by Merlin’s spell as it ground the bones into dust.

A whirlwind formed, sucking the dust, dirt, and debris from the collapsing fragments into a vortex that spun the crushed essence of the bone dragon at its core. It spun faster and faster, saffron light collapsing, shrinking in on itself. With a loud crack and a blinding flash, the remnants of the bone dragon vanished. When the dust settled, Simone was gone, and resting in its place sat a pristine dragon’s egg.

Arthur gasped as Simone’s magic released him. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious, sparkling sword frozen in his grip.

Lancelot threw himself on the ground next to the prince and gently rolled him over. “Arthur!” he shouted. “Help us!” he screamed at his companions. Without waiting for a response, he scooped up Arthur in his arms and stood. Arthur groaned at the jostling of his broken arm, cradling the limb against his chest. Thick rolling smoke choked the air as the knights ran over, but Lancelot was already staggering toward the barn door, sparkling sword gripped in his dangling left hand. Percival grabbed Arthur’s legs to take some of the weight, and together they pulled Arthur out of the collapsing barn.

The rain eased as they hurried across the wet grass seeking shelter underneath the broad canopy of an oak tree. Gently they eased Arthur to the ground just as a thump sounded behind them. As one, they bared steel and turned to face this new threat, but paused as they saw Merlin dismounting from the dragon’s back. The red dragon eyed the knights for a moment then dismissed them, walking over to the burning building. A few swipes of her claws tore the partially standing side of the barn into splinters. It collapsed into the hot coals of the burning timbers with a hissing sound, smoke rising to mix with steam as it smoldered. Tanwen walked inside, impervious to the flames, crushing blackened boards under her weight and suffocating the flames at the same time. Moments later, the dragon launched itself into the air, the egg clutched in her talons and disappeared into the night sky.

Merlin watched her go for a second, then hurried over to Arthur’s side, kneeling beside the fallen prince. His chest rose and fell too slowly. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his lips. Merlin turned Arthur’s head to the side and opened Arthur’s mouth, running his finger inside and scooping out the contents. As he thought, blood filled Arthur’s mouth. Merlin glanced around at all the knights, then said, “You and you. Go check out the tack room and see if there are any bandages. We also need something to use to splint Arthur’s arm and leg. Find water, too! Hurry!” All the knights except for Lancelot rose to their feet and scattered seeking what medical supplies they could find.

Merlin stared at Lancelot, hesitating. He shook his head. There was nothing to be done about it. Sometimes a secret can be shared, he thought. “Lancelot, Arthur is in grave danger from his injuries. He is bleeding internally and will die if I don’t act quickly. I can help him, but you must promise to never speak of what you see me do. Do you swear to stay silent?” said Merlin, watching the knight intently.

Lancelot’s pinched expression said it all. “I swear,” he said in a fervent whisper. “Please, can you save him?”

“Yes. Now give me room. This must be done quickly.”

Lancelot backed away from the prince, as Merlin placed his hands on either side of Arthur’s head. Magic glowed between his palms and sunk into Arthur’s skin, spreading down his body and seeping into his limbs. Arthur glowed temporarily, then the cuts began to mend, the bruising fading. Merlin did not heal him all the way. There was no time for that. He settled for repairing the puncture in his right lung, setting the bones in his right wrist, and mending the fracture to his tibia. He vanished the pooling blood in his lung and mended his lung tissue. The glow vanished. He withdrew his hands as the knights returned. Lancelot’s eyes flickered to Merlin’s then to the knights as they approached. He said nothing.

In their arms, they carried a couple of hoe handles with the blades removed, and thin strips of cloth used for binding horses’ legs when injured. One carried a horse blanket. They had also found horse salve and a pail for carrying water. Merlin dipped one cloth into the pail of water and washed-out Arthur’s mouth, clearing his breathing passages, then set about binding his leg with the strips of cloth and the hoe handles. Lancelot stood up, gripping the wood between his two hands and bent it, muscles straining. They snapped one into foot-long pieces, which he quietly handed to Merlin with a newfound respect. Merlin murmured his thanks as he took them, and then bound the prince’s right wrist between the broken shafts with windings of cloth.

“How is he?” asked Percival, an angry frown still on his face. His broad shoulders tense, he appeared ready to battle any threat that appeared. Merlin glanced up at Percival, then said quietly, “He is badly injured, but Arthur will live. We need a wagon to transport him back to the castle.”

Percival straightened. “Right. I will find one and return.” He immediately left with one of the other knights to source a wagon and team. The remaining knights set up a perimeter guard against any further aggression.

Merlin placed the horse blanket over Arthur’s prone form and sat back on his heels with a soft sigh. “I dare not do more for him, Lancelot. I’m sorry,” he murmured in a low voice. “Were we alone, I would have healed him completely. But you know how it is in Camelot.”

“You walk a dangerous path, Merlin,” said Lancelot softly. “Thank you for what you have done for Arthur. I was afraid we had lost him.” Merlin nodded. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Does Arthur know?”

“Yes, he knows. There are now all of three people, outside of my mother, that know of my abilities. Well, if you don’t count Nimue and Simone. It must remain secret.”

“I, for one, am glad you were here. We would have lost him, otherwise.” Lancelot clapped Merlin on the shoulder, then his eyes fell once again on Arthur with a worried frown.

“He sleeps. He will sleep for the better part of a day. The majority of the strength to heal his wounds comes from him. He needs to rest.”

“Of course.”

“I am going to take this for safe keeping, too,” said Merlin. He gestured toward the sword that glowed with an ethereal light. Lancelot’s eyes roved over the blade. Silver hilt and blade had been etched with gold swirls reminiscent of flames. “This sword has been forged in a dragon’s breath while being held by Arthur. It is dangerous in the extreme. It is meant to be used by Arthur and by him alone. I fear that if the king were to see it, he would claim it for his own. Who knows what may happen then?” Merlin pried Arthur’s fingers from the grip. Arthur muttered, protesting his actions but did not wake. Merlin wrapped the sword in the horse bindings hiding the hilt and blade. “I will return it to him when he wakes.” Lancelot nodded.

They heard the sound of rattling timber as a wagon cart pulled by one lone horse appeared, driven by Percival. He pulled up beside them then hopped down from the wagon bed. Together, Percival and Lancelot carried Arthur to the back of the wagon. Merlin climbed in beside him with the sword. Arthur thrashed in his sleep, muttering. Merlin placed the sword beside him, and Arthur quieted.

With a sharp “Ha!” Percival snapped the reins, and the cart lurched into motion. Lancelot and the rest of the knights mounted up then surrounded the wagon, escorting the slumbering Arthur back to Camelot. The trip was a surprisingly short distance, as so much had happened in those short couple of hours. They picked up more guards on the way until the wagon was buried in a sea of armed men. The guards cleared the roadways, shoving back the curious and the slow, carving a path to the steps of the castle. As they drew up, the king appeared at the top of the steps accompanied by the court physician, who ran down the steps to meet the wagon. He was followed by two assistants, carrying a cloth litter. They swiftly unloaded Arthur from the bed of the cart and onto the litter, then bore Arthur away, hurrying into the castle, Uther following hard on their heels.

Merlin eased himself out of the back of the cart, forgotten by all the guards and knights as they moved away to resume their various duties, until only Lancelot and Merlin were left. Merlin picked up the wrapped sword as a groom came to take the horses and wagon away. Together, they walked side by side up the steps and into the castle.

Neither noticed the eyes that followed their progression through the open doorway until they vanished from view.