The Calling

Tristan lowered the unconscious body of Francis on the damp floor of the cavern and took a step back and gazed down at the form of the young boy. His body lay in tatters as he sprawled across the dirty ground, cuts had torn through his clothing and small abrasions littered his arms and legs while bruises started to rise and form on his face and a swelling beneath his right eye took on a bloated appeal.

“Explain what happened” asked Merlin as he looked down at the broken body.

“Will he live?” asked Percival from across the cavern, peering through the dank conditions.

Merlin nodded sagely and inspected the wounds on the body, “the injuries are only superficial, nothing life threatening” he stated simply, then rose and looked straight at Lord Kay and Lord Tristan. “You were instructed with his safety” he snapped, “and yet you bring him to me in this condition. The consequences of your actions could have led to his death”

“Be careful of your accusation old man” warned Kay, “If it hadn’t been for us, thine youth would be dead by now” he glowered at Merlin through the darkness.

“You do not realise that he is the reason we are here” said Merlin pointing at the body of Francis laying on the floor. “It is not are design, but that of Excalibur”

“We have not decided that yet...” injected Galahad from his position at the edge of the cavern, “that is only your assumption”

Merlin nodded in his direction but continued, “if he had died then all of this...” he waved about the cavern dramatically as he spoke, “would be for naught”

“The boy stirs...” commented Bedivere, his eyes never wavering from his body. Merlin turned to face the boy as he struggled to open his eyes.

“Who are they?” demanded Gwen as she returned from the table with a tray of empty glasses.

“I don’t know” admitted her father, “but their money is as good as anyone else’s” he said casting a quick glance over her shoulder toward the two men in full body armour at the table. Mordred laughed and threw his head back as he drank heavily at the brown liquid in the glass. He slapped his comrade on the shoulder and let out another loud laugh as his liquid spilled over the table. “I suppose they could be part of an actor’s group or some kind of medieval society here to re-enact some kind of battle” he said watching the Knights.

“Their money is as good as anyone’s” quoted Gwen, “does that mean they’ve paid”

“Well...no... not yet”

“Don’t you think they should start” she said spying the cavalcade of empty glass lining up along the counter of the bar.

“Yes...yes...in a minute” he said reluctantly watching as Mordred lit up the room once again with his laughter. Gwen sighed and pulled at another two empty glasses from beneath the bar and pushed the first beneath a stiff white pump.

“Well if they carry on in this manner, they will have drunk us dry by the end of the day”

Francis pulled himself into a sitting position on the floor of the cave. His eyesight blurred as he opened his eyes and looked around the roughly strewn cavern. He could feel a damp patch spreading across his trousers and briefly wondered whether he had lost control of his bowels before realising that he was sitting in a puddle. His arms stung from the scratches which littered his body and he rubbed them, feeling slightly sorry for himself. “Where am I?” he asked looking over the puddles which surrounded him.

“Look at me” said Merlin standing over him. Francis remained seated looking across his battered and bruised body. “Boy!” snapped Merlin.

“My name is Francis!” he snapped back, finally looking into the eyes of the old man.

“Ah...” he breathed, “at last” Merlin bowed his head low and spoke through the darkness, “forgive me my Liege” he purred.

“Look” said Francis, “I don’t know who you think I am... well I have a pretty good idea, but I’m not” he said resolutely.

“We know you are not Arthur” said Merlin waving around the cavern at the other figures in the cave. “But thine art his descendant...by divine right”

“No... I’m not” insisted Francis, “I’m just a regular guy. Nothing special...just a normal guy”

“See how modest he is” whispered Percival to Bedivere behind him. Francis shot him a venomous glance then looked over the other figures. He recognised the figures from the forest, but the others he had not seen before. He cast his eyes over the various forms of armour and clothing each individual wore ranging from heavy thick silver armour to the sleeker green body armour adorned by Bedivere, then the simple material worn by the Knight from the forest and the black and white tunic worn by the person who had just spoken. Each one looked powerful in their own right, either in nature or stature while Merlin...or at least was who he assumed the old man to be stood dressed in a long flowing cloak which covered a dull grey habit. His ancient eyes bore into Francis and he could feel his mind being stripped away of the centuries which divided him from...where? Somewhere else...if not here, then where was his mind wandering. He could see these Knights, he could see eternal death, he could see a sword and then a voice...a female voice.

“Come to me...you are almost at the end of your quest” she purred in his mind. Francis closed his eyes and strained to block the whispering of the Knights around him.

“Look at the boy” whispered Bedivere.

“He is scrawny” said the large Knight from the forest.

“He was when he first came into your father’s care” said another.

“Aye that he was” a riotous laughter echoed around the cavern as the Knights laughed.

“It is not decided he is Arthur’s kindred” snapped another.

“That is agreed” said a softer voice...the small one from the clearing.

“I am not satisfied”

Francis kept his eyes closed as he strained his hearing...listening...

“Your quest shall lead you to me” said the women’s voice.

“Where are you?” he asked into the darkness.

“Who does he talk to?” came one voice

“There is but no-one here but us” said another.

“Is this madness?”

“Merlin...?”

Francis remained focused despite the questions ranging around him. “I can hear you...” he said, “but...why can’t I see you?” he asked.

“Use your mind to see...” the voice urged, “open your eyes and you will see” Francis obeyed his instructions and looked around the cavern at the Knights still in heated debate around the cavern, only Merlin seemed quiet...distant from the others. He watched the old man as he glanced behind him and stepped back as a woman emerged from the shadows and smiled.

“He is here...” she said.

“Yes” agreed Merlin, “as I said he would”

“You heard the call?” she directed her question directly to Francis who nodded dumbly in her direction. “Is he mute?” she asked Merlin.

The old sage shook his head and smiled, “only puzzled...as am I” he said his expression turning into a frown. “Why has Excalibur woken?”

“This I cannot tell thee” the woman said, a look of concern flirting over her face, “at least not until he has proven himself” she looked over at Francis who remained in dumb silence in his seated position on the floor. The woman stepped forward into the dim light of the cavern, water glistening in the light broadcast from the torches adorning the walls of the cavern. Francis blushed frantically at her naked form as she moved close to him and she smiled as his face lit up a deep crimson. She circled him for a moment as he sat in the shallow water on the cavern floor. “Stand” she instructed simply.

Francis stood, his eyes never leaving the woman’s naked body and despite his best efforts he found his eyes wandering over her body. He followed the line of her long flowing hair, which ran down the course of her back and ebbing over her shoulders. He blushed as his eyesight lingered over her breasts and watched as small droplets of water played over the small pert mounds then fell from her erect nipples onto the rough ground at her feet. He allowed his eyes to cross her flat stomach and down over the slender hips and played across her groin as the small patch of hair glistened with an intense moisture in the flickering light of the flame. Her legs fell from her slender hips and he traced their expanse as they ran toward the floor, then as she turned he raised his gaze and stared lustfully at her round hips and tightly formed bottom. “Come to me...” she said seductively.

Thoughts of an immoral nature crossed his mind and stirred in his loins and reluctantly he shook his head free of the lust and sexual images which danced through his mind. “I have and I am here” he insisted.

“But you have not proven yourself worthy” she said slowly, turning to face him again as she stood at Merlin’s side.

Francis looked over her small, but well-formed bosom, “What must I do?” he asked into the shadows as she slowly dissolved into the darkness.

“Nothing...” she whispered.

“Wait!” he shouted into the cave, the echo of his voice resounding across the walls back to him, “I don’t understand” he could feel the frustration welling over him. “Please” he begged, “come back...”

“Come to me...” the whisper of her voice tinged the cavern as her naked body disappeared from view.

“Is thoust mad?”

“Is thoust ill?”

“What madness is this Merlin?” the voices of the Knights smashed back into reality and he found himself almost embarrassed by the realisation that they had not seen or heard the exchange.

“There is no madness” insisted Merlin, who spoke turning to Francis. “You saw...” he said.

Francis nodded, “yes, but I still don’t understand” he admitted.

“All will become clear” he promised and stepped forward, close to the chalice and took the hand of Francis. “You might want to cover that up” said the old man smirking as he pointed down toward Francis’ groin. Francis followed the line of his finger and blushed once again as the lump in his crotch pointed out into the cavern beneath his blue jeans. He thrust his hands toward the front of his trousers and adjusted himself as laughter from the Knights echoed through the cave. “That was Nimue...”

“The Lady...” whispered Bedivere. Merlin shot him a glance, then peered into the depths of the chalice.

“Yes...the Lady” he confirmed.

“Who is Nimue?” asked Francis.

“My Love...” said Merlin wistfully looking into the water and trailing a hand across the surface of the liquid.