‘You can leave him now,’ said Merlin, breaking off his strange humming. ‘Close your eyes, Huell, rest. You won’t wake until I wake you. Do you hear me?’
Huell nodded and then his eyelids closed slowly as the warrior fell into a deep sleep. Merlin took the fisherman’s coarse wrapping from Huell’s wrist and tutted at the ragged stump. Arthur had to look away from the grey-brown flesh, which looked like rotten meat. It stank of foulness, and there was white bone amid the bloody, crusted filth. Merlin shook his head, mumbling under his breath. He took a small skin from his belt and poured water over Huell’s wrist. Then he took a small knife and sliced away the corrupted flesh around Huell’s wound. If Arthur hadn’t been so hungry, he would have vomited, but Merlin worked quickly, confidently and efficiently. He seemed satisfied with his work and reached again for the fire-heated knife. Merlin took the knife, its blade too hot to look upon, and Arthur turned away again as Merlin pressed the searing iron to Huell’s wrist. The wound sizzled and spat as Merlin sealed it closed. Arthur stood and stepped back from the foul stench of it, and Merlin slathered the burned flesh in honey and then wrapped it with a length of clean linen from a pouch at his belt. As Merlin searched beneath his cloak, Arthur noticed the druid carried many small leather purses tied to his black leather belt, and Arthur wondered what strange items the famous Merlin carried with him on the march.
Balin kicked out the remnants of the fire and scattered the embers into the bog. They eased Huell’s unconscious body over the back of a captured Saxon horse and marched west towards the distant hills. Merlin strode at the front of the group with Balin of the Two Swords, whilst Arthur and Kai marched in the middle. Kai held the bridle of the horse which carried Huell. Ten of Balin’s warriors marched in front of Arthur and ten behind as they left the slaughtered band of Saxons.
‘I can’t believe that’s actually Merlin,’ said Kai as they trudged through a field of wheat. A smile split his handsome face, and he shook his head in disbelief.
‘For a moment back there, I thought he had conjured those warriors from the pit of Annwn,’ said Arthur.
‘I know. And then how he calmed Huell and put him to sleep. Lunete will never believe us.’
‘The warriors weren’t magic, though. Balin and Merlin tracked the Saxons, so they didn’t just appear from nowhere.’
‘Yes, but what were they doing in Lloegyr in the first place? Wasn’t Merlin exiled to Ynys Môn after the Great War?’
‘So they say. It was good luck on our part that they arrived when they did, anyway. Or we’d be dead on the end of Saxon spears by now.’
‘Did Merlin tell you where we are going?’
‘No, just that we would head west for now, before turning north. That was it.’
‘We could ask Merlin and Balin to help with our quest. With their numbers, we have a chance of finding Princess Guinevere.’
‘It was Merlin who sent Kadvuz to King Urien. So, Merlin knows of our quest, and he knew who we were with no introduction.’
‘So, our quest hasn’t been forsaken, after all. Nyfed, Kadored and the rest didn’t die in vain if we go on and finish what we started.’
‘Father warned to be careful of Merlin, that he is full of cunning and trickery. We must be cautious, Kai. We know nothing of this Balin and his warriors. What are they doing in Lloegyr? Why aren’t they fighting alongside the army of Rheged and Gododdin against Octha, Ida and the Saxon horde?’
‘I don’t know, Arthur. But sometimes you worry too much. You overthink things. We were lost and defeated, but now we travel with brave warriors and a legendary druid. We should talk with Merlin and Balin about our quest and see if they will join us.’
‘Aye, we’ll see,’ said Arthur. He marched towards the black hills with his thought cage full of conflicting thoughts. Kai was right in that it was lucky that Merlin and Balin had found them, but what were they doing so deep in Lloegyr in the first place, and hungered to know more of Balin and his war band.
Arthur remembered Ector’s warning about Merlin the druid, and though the old man seemed friendly so far, he was steeped in legend, and many men blamed Merlin for losing so much of Britain during the Great War. Arthur wasn’t familiar with the details and had never thought to ask. But all the old stories sang or chanted by the travelling bards and scops spoke of Merlin’s magical cunning, of King Gorlois of Kernow, of Uther the Pendragon, King of Dumnonia, of Ambrosius Aurelianus, Ector, Igraine, Urien, and the war with Vortigern. Arthur let those worries rattle around and take form in his mind, and he followed Merlin the druid and Balin of the Two Swords across Lloegyr, understanding that his world had changed. The simple days at Caer Ligualid were behind him, and he marched into an uncertain future full of fear but wild with possibility and adventure.
9
The marching column reached the foothills just as the sun set beyond the high black mountains. Arthur had marched all day through pastures filled with freshly shorn sheep, and fields heavy with spring crops. A thin-limbed man in simple woollen clothes and hollow cheeks waited for them beside a shallow dyke, and Balin tossed the farmer a pouch which chinked as he caught it. The farmer nodded, clambered onto a sad-faced pony and rode lazily away.
‘A local farmer. We pay him for his silence,’ said a black-cloaked warrior when he noticed the puzzled look on Arthur’s face.
They marched over an escarpment which rose sharply from the farmland, its white rock stark compared to the lush greenery of Bernicia’s fields and meadows. A deep cave lay tucked away behind the rocks and sharp inclines, hidden behind a ravine. The cave mouth was twice as high as a man is tall, and three times as wide. Merlin and Balin marched their war band straight into its cavernous maw, and so Arthur and Kai followed. Arthur shuddered as he entered the gaping mouth, which was as black as a moonless night, and its jagged lip dripped water into small, still pools. The high rocks above echoed with the sound of footsteps, making Arthur feel tiny, like a dwarf in a vast canyon. He sensed as though he had entered a different world, about to venture into the depths of Annwn itself. The gloom swallowed the sides and rear of the cave, while shadowed alcoves opened wider inside.
Men lit fires using small stacks of firewood already prepared and set for their arrival, and soon the cave glowed with warm firelight, which cast strange shadows upon its glistening, damp walls. Balin’s warriors brushed the cave floor clean of debris and stacked their heavy leather breastplates, furs, helmets, spears and other weapons against a wall. As the firelight spread, the cave lost its formidable air and seemed comfortable, almost welcoming. They laid out blankets around the fires and filled cauldrons and spits with chopped meat and vegetables. Soon, their chatter and laughter filled the open space, making it feel like a feasting hall. The smell of roasting meat swamped Arthur’s hungry nose, and a man with a long face handed Arthur and Kai a skin of ale, which they shared thirstily.
‘We’ll rest here tonight,’ said the long-faced man. ‘Then march out again tomorrow. We use this cave to camp when in this part of our old kingdom. We are safe here in the hills, so eat, drink and rest.’
Arthur thanked the warrior and he and Kai pulled Huell from the horse’s back and set his sleeping body next to a small fire. Huell was a big man, and it took both Arthur and Kai to carry his limp body.
‘I almost forgot,’ said Merlin cheerfully, striding to where Arthur and Kai sat with Huell. Merlin wore only his simple grey tunic and soft doeskin boots. He knelt beside Huell, removed the bandage on his stump, sniffed the wound and nodded appreciatively and then bound it up again. He rolled Huell over, cleaned the wound on his back, and smeared it with an oily poultice. ‘Wake,’ Merlin said slowly in the deep, rumbling voice he had used by the oak tree. Huell awoke as if someone had slapped him across the face. He stared at Arthur and Kai as though he didn’t know them, and then seemed to find himself and sat up, looking around at their new surroundings.
‘What happened?’ Huell asked, his voice groggy.
‘I have healed you, Huell of Rheged. You’re welcome. Now, eat and drink because we march north tomorrow.’
‘March where?’ Arthur asked.
Merlin frowned at him, surprised at the question. ‘We must find a Saxon who knows about this fortress Ida has built atop Dun Guaroy and put him to question. We can’t rescue Princess Guinevere if we don’t know precisely where to look. She is inside that fortress somewhere. The old fort on that headland was not in good repair, which I imagine the dead former king regrets now as he rots beneath the soil. Ida, however, is a cunning dog and so we can expect his new fortification to be formidable indeed. We must know what awaits us there. Don’t be a fool, boy.’ Merlin wagged a long finger at Arthur and raised one eyebrow. ‘You must have your wits about you. We are at war with a fearsome enemy, and with their gods. The Saxons come to replace us, and their gods come to drive ours into oblivion, and by my beard the Christ God has already laid our blessed gods low. The road will be difficult and fraught with danger. So don’t ask ridiculous questions and start using that empty head of yours.’ Merlin tapped a long finger against Arthur’s forehead.
Before Arthur could ask him any more questions, Merlin sprang to his feet like a man half his age and marched into the cave’s dark recesses.
‘He wears boots,’ said Kai.
‘What?’
‘Merlin. He wears boots. Kadvuz came to Urien’s hall barefoot, with two great wolfhounds.’
‘What of it?’
‘I don’t know. Kadvuz seemed more fearsome somehow, more like a druid should be. Merlin is like any of the grandfathers back at Caer Ligualid, but with whiter teeth and a little pricklier. If one druid goes barefoot and had great wolfhounds, shouldn’t they all?’
Arthur ignored Kai’s question. His brother seemed quite taken with Merlin, Kadvuz and their druidic trickery. Arthur handed Huell the skin of ale, and the warrior took a long pull. Some colour had returned to Huell’s face since Merlin had put him to sleep, and Kai gave him a strip of dried beef, which Huell ate hungrily.
‘The Saxons who hunted us are dead,’ said Arthur, and Huell looked across the cave as he chewed his food, staring at the black-cloaked warriors.
‘I know Balin,’ Huell said. ‘How did he find us?’
‘Merlin led Balin and his war band to us,’ said Kai, shifting closer to Huell with excitement in his eyes. ‘They sprang from the undergrowth and cut the Saxons down just as they were about to charge into us.’
