Excalibur

CHAPTER 3: THE PAST

Surrounded by water, the Tor jutted five hundred feet above the countryside, crowned by a ruined stone abbey. It was a sacred place, one where few dared travel, yet on this dreary morning, a small boat, oars pulled by a single man dressed in a long black robe fringed with silver, slowly made its way across the placid water. It was a place of legend, rumored by many to be the legendary site of Avalon, home to strange folk with even stranger powers. Those who lived nearby dared not set foot on the island.

The bottom of the boat grated onto a pebbled beach. The man stowed the oars, tied the boat off to a stunted tree, then made his way up the track that wound its way up the hill. He walked as if carrying a great burden, stoop-shouldered and with stiff legs, but all he had in his hands was a long staff of polished wood that he leaned on to aid his climb. His face was hidden in the shadow of an overhanging hood, but a white beard poked out at the bottom.

When he reached the top, he paused, taking in the shattered stone of the abbey. Then he looked all about, at the country that surrounded the lake. Nothing moved under an overcast sky. It was as if the land had been swept clear of man and beast. A gust of cold wind caused the man to pull his robe tighter around his body. Ever since the great battle of Camlann — the showdown between Arthur and Mordred — the land had appeared bleak and cold.

He walked to the abbey and through a doorway. The interior was open to the sky, the floor littered with stone blocks from the collapsed roof. With a gnarled hand the man reached into the neck of his robe and retrieved a medallion. On the surface of the metal was the image of an eye. He placed it against the front of the small altar where there was an indentation of similar shape. He held the medallion there for several moments, then removed it, sliding it back inside his robe.

He rubbed his hands together as he waited. He started as a door swung open in the wall of the abbey. A figure stepped into the abbey, cloaked in brown. He too wore a hood, which he pulled back, revealing a lined face and silver hair. His eyes widened as he recognized the man by the altar.

“Myrddin!”

The old man wearily smiled. “I have not been called that in a long time, Brynn. At the court of Arthur the King they called me Merlin.” “So I have heard,” Brynn said.

Merlin looked about. “They would have brought Arthur here.”

“He died right there.” Brynn pointed toward the nearest stone wall of the abbey. “And Excalibur?”

“No sorrow?” Brynn folded his arms across his chest. “No sign of grief for the death of your king?”

“I knew he was dead,” Merlin said. “I have grieved in private.” “I doubt it.”

Merlin straightened, drawing himself up, and despite his worn condition, Brynn took a step backward.

“I did what I did for the land, for the people.” “It did not work,” Brynn noted.

“It was better than hiding in a cave with old papers,” Merlin snapped.

“Was it?” Brynn didn’t wait for an answer. “The land is worse off than it was. Many have died. The Grail was almost lost. The sword too.”

“I know about the Grail. One of your fellow Watchers has it.”

“It is good that you don’t consider yourself one of us any longer,” Brynn said. “You betrayed our order.”

“I went beyond our order as must be done at times,” Merlin said. “You will return the Grail to Egypt?”

“That I cannot tell you.”

Merlin shook his head. “Returning to the status quo. That would be fine, except what is the status quo?”

Brynn frowned. “What do you mean?”

Merlin stamped his foot on the Tor impatiently. “Our order has watched since the time of Atlantis. We once worshipped the ‘gods.’ And when they fought among themselves, many of our people died and Atlantis was destroyed, the survivors scattered.

“I talked with Arthur many times — he was a Shadow of one of these creatures. He knew much of the great truth.”

“‘The great truth’?”

“What do we know?” Merlin asked Brynn. “Do we know where the ‘gods’ came from? Why they are here?”

The look on Brynn’s face indicated he didn’t even understand the questions, never mind wonder about the answers.

Merlin sighed and dropped that line of thought. “Excalibur is more than just a sword. It does others things. And the war will come again. And both sides will want it. And men like me”—Merlin nodded, acknowledging his role in recent events—“will try to use Excalibur also as a symbol. But it is more than a symbol. It has a purpose, a very critical purpose. It is a critical piece, one of several, in a very ancient puzzle.”

Brynn waited, listening.

“I am here to make amends,” Merlin said. “And how will you do that?”

“Excalibur must be hidden better than this place.”

“I do not—” Brynn began, but Merlin slammed the butt of his staff onto the stone floor.

“Listen to me, Brynn. The sword must be hidden. Since it was brought out, those whom you watch now know where it is. We — I—awakened those better left sleeping and they sent forth their Shadows to do war to try to gain the sword and the Grail. Both were hidden for many generations but now this place is no longer safe. You know that or else you would not have sent away the Grail.”

“How do you know this?”

“Watchers are so ignorant. I was ignorant, but I have traveled far and seen much. Have you even read some of the papers you guard so closely below? That is what I spent my time doing while I was here.”

“I have read those scrolls I can,” Brynn argued.

“And the ones you can’t read? The ones written in the ancient runes?” “None can read them.”

“I could and can.”

“And what do they say?” Brynn asked, interested in spite of himself.

“The decision that demanded that our sole function be merely to watch what transpired was made by a vote at the first Gathering of Watchers. And it was not unanimous. There were those who thought watching wasn’t enough and action needed to be taken. That man would be best off if we continued to fight for freedom from the Gods and their minions.”

“But the vote was to watch,” Brynn said simply. “It is the rule of our order.”

Merlin sighed in frustration. “But it was a decision made by men. And we are men. We get to change it.”

Brynn shook his head. “The order would never change that. And there has not been a Gathering in memory.”

“You are ignorant,” Merlin said.

“What will you do with the sword?” Brynn turned the subject from things he knew nothing of.

“Take it — and the sheath that contains it — far from here. And hide it well in a place where men — and those who pretend to be men — cannot easily get to it.”

“There is no reason for me to believe you,” Brynn said as he turned back toward the doorway.

“I was wrong.” Brynn paused.

Merlin continued. “We should not get involved with these creatures and their war among themselves. We do not have the power for that.”

“And?” Brynn demanded. “That is the Watcher’s credo. To watch. Not to act. Which you violated.”

“And that is wrong also,” Merlin said. “We must not just watch. We must act. But not in the way I did, trying to imitate these creatures, allying with one side or the other. I thought Arthur—” He shook his head. “I was misled, as the priests of old were. We must keep ourselves separate. Completely separate. And fight them when we have to and when we can do so with a chance of victory.” “What does that have to do with the sword?” Brynn asked.

“It is a thing each side needs in order to win the civil war,” Merlin said. “And now they know of this place and it is easily accessible. That is why Excalibur must be removed. It can not be found by Aspasia’s Shadow or Artad’s followers or others, even more evil, who would seek to destroy it.” Brynn’s face paled. “The Ancient Enemy?”

Merlin nodded.

“I thought that was just a myth made up by the priests. Like the Christians have their Satan opposing their God.”

“There is always some truth in every myth,” Merlin said.

Brynn ran a hand through his beard, obviously shaken.

“You say it is the rule of the Watchers only to watch,” Merlin said. “Then how did Excalibur and the Grail come here in the first place?”

“They have traveled far over the ages. Joseph of Arimathea brought them here for safekeeping from Jerusalem.”

“And did he not violate the rules of your order by doing so?” Brynn reluctantly nodded.

“Then let me right that wrong and remove them from here. Then you can go back to watching.”

“Excalibur is safe now,” Brynn said with little remaining conviction. “I know that—”

Merlin cut him off. “The Grail has been sent away. The sword must be sent away also. They came here to retrieve Arthur’s ka, didn’t they?”

Brynn slowly nodded. “Yes. The Ones Who Wait.” “Then they know this place. They will be back.” “It is what I fear,” Brynn admitted.

“They can always find the sword here,” Merlin said, “but I can put it in a place that will be difficult, if not impossible, for them or any others to find and bring back.”

Brynn frowned. “Where?”

“On the roof of the world where someone might be able to reach it, but never survive long enough to be able to bring it back down.”

“Where is this roof?”

“Do not concern yourself with that.” Merlin smiled. “You have nothing to fear if the sword isn’t here.”

This last bit of logic finally came home to rest with the Watcher. “Come.” Brynn indicated for Merlin to follow him.