Legend

XVI

Arthur spent two days at high altitude in Chi Yu, studying the data that the craft’s sensors picked up from the large island and interrogating a half dozen unfortunate prisoners he had scooped up in the night. It was a land mired in dissension and distrust, as evidenced by the continual skirmishes among petty lords and the successes of small knots of invaders in coastal areas, holding their own against the locals, keeping a foreign footprint on the land.

According to the sensors, Excalibur had been reshielded and was in the west of the land in the largest, and best organized, fiefdom — Cornwall. The region’s leader resided in a castle on a high rocky outcropping along a rough coast. That was the place where Arthur decided to make his entrance.

Just as the sun was setting over the ocean to the west, Arthur brought Chi Yu down out of the clouds and landed with a burst of flame from the craft’s snout on the cliff just to the south of Tintagel, Uther’s castle.

Donnchadh leafed through the documents lying on the wooden table deep inside the tor. She’d read them all on previous visits and it didn’t take her long to see a patternto those chosen. She looked up as Gwalcmai entered the chamber.

“The sword and Grail are gone,” he confirmed.

Donnchadh tapped the documents. “The Watcher has been reading of both.” She picked up one particular piece that had the prophecy of a king written on it. She shook her head. “There is so much gibberish mixed in among the reports. Fiction some of the Wedjat made up.”

“It is amazing the Watchers have lasted this long,” Gwalcmai said. “What do we do now?”

“We find the sword and the Grail.”

“The others will be coming — or be sending someone.”

Donnchadh nodded. “They’ll want to restore the truce.”

“Why won’t one side want to end it?” Gwalcmai argued. “Grab the key and the Grail and be done with it?”

“Because both sides have made mistakes,” Donnchadh said. “Aspasia by being out of contact for so long, then Artad for acting so precipitously when he came here. They need a lot more time to get this planet back on track. And—”

“And?” Gwalcmai prompted.

“And I think both are afraid of the Swarm. I think they secretly want to keep hidden for a long time and stay out of that war.”

“And what do we want?” Gwalcmai asked.

“To cause them as much trouble as we can. And then go back to the truce because we need to fear the Swarm also.”

“I do not think it will be as easy as that,” Gwalcmai said.

“Of course not,” Donnchadh agreed. “But I’m trying to be positive.”

Aspasia’s Shadow was already finding things not so easy. Along with his Guides, he’d taken passage on a trading ship out of Alexandria. Less than two days into the journey the ship had been accosted by pirates. They’d beaten off the attack, but it had cost Aspasia’s Shadow two of his Guides. Four days later a storm forced them to put to shore and kept them there for almost a week.

When they finally put to sea once more, Aspasia’s Shadow stood in the bow of the boat, letting the salty air blow across his face. His left hand absentmindedly played with the ka that hung around his neck. It was going to take a long time to reach England. He had known that when he left Mount Sinai.

Not for the first time or the last time, Aspasia’s Shadow cursed the Watchers. But underneath that anger, coiled and bitter, so still he was almost unaware of it, was his resentment toward his maker and his awareness that he was just a tool.

Aspasia’s Shadow removed the ka from the chain and dangled it over the deep, dark water. Even as he did so, he knew it was a futile gesture. If he did not return within a specified amount of time, the machine in Mount Sinai would automatically regenerate another Shadow based on the last memories he had loaded into it. While this body and mind would die, he would be brought back to life once more.

Someday, Aspasia’s Shadow mused as he put the ka back around his neck, someday he would be free. Perhaps in the coming events he might find a key to escaping from the unique and horrible prison he was in.

From the highest tower of the stone castle, Arthur dispassionately stared at King Uther, but the look was not returned for the simple reason that carrion-birds had plucked the eyes out of the severed head the previous week. Uther was merely a head impaled on a pole set on the outer wall of Tintagel Castle and Arthur had been king for two weeks.

After landing Chi Yu, Arthur had exited the flying machine, garbed in gleaming armor and carrying a sword, not quite as nice as Excalibur but of Airlia make and far beyond anything Uther’s age of humans could produce. However, Arthur would not depend on force of arms to take control. Fear worked much better. He’d known that the dragon had been seen from the castle walls and he’d let the humans stew on the strange apparition for the entire night.

The next morning he’d approached the castle, with Chi Yu, controls set on automatic, hovering above and behind him. It had been a most impressive spectacle and when he’d called out for the castle gates to be opened, the guards had quickly complied.

It had taken Uther a week to build up the courage to challenge Arthur and the battle had lasted less than two seconds before the king’s head was severed from his body. Arthur had become king. He’d dispatched Chi Yu on autopilot to a hiding place on a desolate island off the coast that he’d discovered during his reconnaissance.

Alone and above everyone, Arthur removed a small black sphere from underneath his cloak. He accessed the device and peered at the tiny screen set into one of the hexagonals. Excalibur, as his overflight had indicated, was moving ever closer. He had not even considered simply landing and taking the sword from whoever had it. That was not what he had been programmed to do. There was more to be donethan simply recovering Excalibur — there was also the issue of the Grail’s location. And sooner or later, someone from Aspasia’s side would show up.

Merlin was covered with a layer of dust over a smattering of mud. He was hungry and tired and the wonderful sword, so light when he first drew it from the crystal stone, had become a wearisome burden wrapped in a threadbare blanket and held close to his chest with both arms.

He cleared a rise in the road and saw two things at the same time. The ocean in the far distance and, perched on the rocky crags overlooking the ocean, the stone walls and tower of Tintagel Castle. From the top of the tower a guidon flapped in the stiff offshore breeze. It was red with a mighty dragon emblazoned on it.

Activity closer by caught Merlin’s attention. A troop of armored knights was galloping up the road toward him. Merlin stepped to the side to let them pass, but the man in the lead, clad in shining armor, reined in his horse and halted, peering down at Merlin through narrow slits in his helmet. The knight slowly raised his visor, revealing cold blue eyes.

“You are the one who brings the sword.”

It was not a question. Merlin went to one knee and offered up Excalibur. Surely such a knight who knew he was coming and about the sword was the one. “My king.”

“I am Arthur,” the knight said as he got off his horse. He took the offering, tossing aside the blanket. With one smooth movement he drew Excalibur. He leaned forward and placed the blade against Merlin’s neck. “Where is the Grail?”

Merlin swallowed hard, feeling the cool metal against his skin. “It is safe, my lord.”

“Where is the Grail?”

Merlin stared up into the knight’s eyes and saw no compassion or humanity. With a rush of despair he knew he’d made a mistake. He closed his eyes for several seconds, thinking furiously. Then he looked up at the king. “My name is Merlin. I have hidden the Grail and only I know where it is. If you want me to serve you, and someday learn of the Grail’s location, you will let me live. I have given you the sword. Give me my life. I will serve you well.”

Arthur did not immediately remove the sword. “You will take me to the Grail later?” he finally asked.

“Yes, my king.”

Arthur pulled back Excalibur.

Merlin slowly got to his feet. “We can build a great kingdom together, my king.”

“We will have to,” Arthur said. He looked at Merlin. “For they are coming to take it.”

A chill ran down Merlin’s spine and he realized he had walked into something much, much larger than himself.