The Calling

The Knights spilled from the cavern and into the night air and Francis watched as they flocked out over the beach, their swords reaching high in the air and their voices carrying on the wind. “You don’t approve” said Francis standing next to Merlin at the mouth of the cave.

“No” he said simply

“Why not, surely you knew it would come to this”

“Mayhap...but I still do not approve” Merlin watched the Knights wistfully as they ran across the beach to the sandbanks. “I remember Camlaan like it ’twas yesterday” he said sadly, “the deaths...the carnage...in the name of what?, mercy? justice?, revenge?” he shook his head sadly, “Aye...I did know it would come to this, but I had hoped there would be another way” he admitted, “we are all doomed to die one day, let us make sure between birth and death, life is lived to its potential” he smiled at Francis and took his hand in his own, “I do not condemn thy actions, but I implore thee to be safe”

“I had better...” Francis said uncomfortably pointing over his shoulder at the disappearing Knights.

Merlin watched him run across the sand and felt the presence of the Fisher King by his shoulder, “he is young” he said softly, sadly shaking his head as he watched him run into the distance.

“As was Arthur...”

“That may be so, but this is a different age”

“But he faces the same problems”

“Not the same circumstance” countered Merlin.

“They will be back” assured the Fisher King.

“Thoust knows?”

The Fisher King shook his head slowly, “Nay...tis but a hope, but I feel they will be back”

“Aye, but how many?”

Francis emerged from the sand grass and stood on the edge of the forest. He scanned the area and cursed his own luck as they Knights had all but disappeared, only the markings of their feet marked in the soft ground remained. He knelt down and ran his fingers around the deep furrow in the ground, glancing into the dark wood. The branches clawed at the light and around each tree shadows hid, waiting to snatch him. He would have no choice but to enter the forest alone and hope for the best. He was pretty sure he could find the way, but her had no idea if he could catch his comrades as the crashed through the woods. He craned his ear trying to pick up on the noises of the Knights, but the air was still only broken by the occasional bird or insect. He stepped through the barrier of the trees and pushed through the branches as they reached for his clothing. He could see a figure laying on the floor, sitting up against an old oak. “Percival...” Francis whispered.

The Knight opened his eyes and smiled at the youth as he ran over to his prone position. “Are you hurt?” he asked urgently checking his body for signs of wounds.

“Nay, my Lord. I am but still tired from my ordeal in the castle” he admitted.

“Where are the others?” Francis whispered urgently as his eyes flicked across the forest.

“I could not keep their pace” admitted Percival as he struggled to his feet, using his sword as a prop to propel his body from the floor. Percival breathed heavily as he leant on Francis and smiled at the young boy, “so tired” he whispered, placing a finger over his lips.

“You should not have come” said Francis, looking at the bruises beneath his armour.

“And miss this...” laughed Percival, “Nay, my Lord” his eyes darted around the forest suddenly alert, “we should be wary” he warned.

“Come...” Francis started to move, but a sound from above froze him to the spot. He looked up into the branches of the trees as three large figures dropped from the confines of the tree and stood in a circle around both he and Lord Percival. Francis struggled with Excalibur in the scabbard around his waist and was met by a wall of laughter...

...laughter?

He glanced around to see the small ring of Knights standing around him, “Ha! I told thee, he would not see us!” roared Kay as he slapped Bedivere on the back.

“Have thee my Lord!” laughed Gawain, “tis a fine jest!” he walked toward Francis and placed an arm around his neck and pulled the youth to his chest, placing his head beneath his arm and ruffling his hair.

“Well played my Lord Percival” commented Bedivere.

“My thanks” said Percival smiling and dispensing his own sword from his hand into its scabbard. Francis frowned for a moment, then despite his best intention, his face broke into a wide grin.

“Idiots” he laughed as he looked around the forest. “How far are we from Tintagel?”

“About an hour’s walk my Lord” commented Gawain, “we could make it before the moon is above our heads”

Francis nodded, “then I think we had better move”. The Knights moved off in single precession through the forest, Gawain at the lead of the group, and Kay bringing up the rear, with Bedivere and Percival each side of Francis as they made their way through the forest. Gawain would stop at every few paces and check the area, before moving off making the progress of the group slow. Francis fingered the hilt of the sword and looked guiltily at the backs of Percival and Gawain. The Fisher King was right he knew what he had to do, and how to do it...he only hoped he was doing the right thing. They pushed their way through the thick bramble and the thorns reached and cut at Francis’ skin, but he carried on regardless of the discomfort, his heart still weighing heavy and the guilt gnawing in the pit of his stomach.

“The castle...” whispered Gawain from ahead of the party. He glanced back toward Francis, “what shalt we do now my Lord?” he asked.

“We go the same way as we did before” Francis replied and allowed Gawain to lead the way through the undergrowth and trees to the same patch of land where they had found the tunnel. Percival gazed about uncertainly around him and pulled his sword from his scabbard. “You alright?” asked Francis as he stared at him.

Percival nodded, “last time I was here, I was attacked and captured” he forced a smile and looked at Francis, pushing his sword back into the scabbard. “I am sorry for the caution”

“That’s alright” eased Francis

“I do not like this” commented Kay at the rear of the group.

“What is it?” asked Francis.

“There are no guards...” his sword waved before him like a talisman, “Morgan knows we would come”

“She didn’t last time” lied Francis

“Maybe not, but I hasten to add she would know if thoust hath approach with yon sword” he beckoned toward Excalibur as he spoke, his eyes darting around the clearing by the wall. “Let us proceed with caution”

“There is no need to worry” eased Francis, “the last thing Morgan would expect is an all-out attack on her within her own castle...would she?” he smiled at the Knights, hoping they wouldn’t notice or understand the significance of his crossed fingers, “she’ll never know what hit her” he turned and pushed his way past Gawain into the tunnel, “now if we could”

“Wait!” snapped Kay, “what occurred here last time thoust came” queried Kay, looking at Francis through narrowed eyes, “thoust hath not explained”

“I went through the tunnel...and I couldn’t find her” Francis shrugged and disappeared down the tunnel. The Knights paused on the threshold of the passage, watching as Francis was swallowed by the darkness.

“After thee...” commented Bedivere toward Gawain.

“Nay...my Lord Bedivere” said Gawain waving the Knight before him, “after thee...I insist”

“After me” said the gruff burly voice of Kay as he pushed past the two bickering Knights and followed down the tunnel, “I am eager to get thine hands on the knave Mordred”. Gawain and Bedivere glanced at each other and drove down the tunnel, with Lord Percival taking up the rear of the party.

They found Francis standing in the ruined corridor, his back against the crumbling foundations of a wall as he glanced up and down the disused castle ruin. He spread his fingers and thrust his hand out beckoning Kay and Bedivere to stop as they emerged from the mouth of the tunnel. The Knights paused in the passageway, partially hidden by the hanging ivy falling from the roof of the passage. Their ears could hear the vestiges of conversation drifting down the castle walls from somewhere in the distance. Francis looked at Kay and placed his finger hard against his mouth indicating that they remain quiet as they moved through the castle. Bedivere slipped from the tunnel and joined Francis at the inner wall of castle. He pointed both left and right in mute conversation and Francis paused, remembering the way he had gone earlier that day. He beckoned his hand to their right and glanced toward the mouth of the tunnel, where Gawain and Percival had joined Kay.

Percival was shaking his head furiously and pointing in the opposite direction toward the dungeon area. Francis frowned and shook his head pointing again toward their right. Percival looked both ways along the exposed corridor and ran across the open space and pressed himself hard against the wall, “my Lord...” he whispered through gritted teeth, “the dungeon area is this way” he said pointing the opposite way again.

“Gwen is not there” insisted Francis, “I know”

“But my Lord...only the courtyard and great hall lies that way”

“That is where we are going” whispered Francis resolute.

“But I must protest...”

“Excellent!” exclaimed Kay loudly, immediately drawing several eyes at him, all goading him into silence, “into battle” he continued in a whisper, “I tire of sulking round like a common rat, hiding in the shadows” he leant forward across the open space, “I agree with my Lord...we should attack at the heart of thy enemy”

“No... that isn’t it” whispered Francis, “Gwen is that way...I know she is”

“How my Lord?” questioned Percival as Francis ignored the question and pushed off, pressing his way along the ruins and picking through the debris scattered across the floor. “My Lord...” hissed Percival from behind him, but chose to ignore the Knight as he moved through the ruins followed by Bedivere and Gawain.

Lord Kay slapped him on the back and leant forward, whispering in his ear, “make haste...”

The Knights followed a few feet behind Francis as he slowly picked his way through the ruins. Every few feet, he was sure he caught a glimpse in the shadows of a Knight, or the glimmer of armour in the increasing moonlight or even the sound of breathing rasping through the ancient stonework, but most of all he could hear the sound of his own heartbeat drowned out by the sound of his guilt weighing in his stomach. He felt sick the nearer he got to the courtyard and through his own guilt he could see the images of flames cast through the stones and throwing shadows which stretched along the floor. He held up a hand behind his back indicating for then Knights to stop as he moved slowly into the empty courtyard. He strode quietly into the center of the yard and placed his hand on the crystal sphere cradled in its stone plinth. He spun slowly, taking in his surrounding and searching for signs of Morgan and her men. His hand fell subconsciously to the sword by his side and small pearls of sweat fell from his brow. He could make out figures, pressed against the walls of the courtyard, pressed in and hidden amongst the shadows and he lowered his head in resolute defeat.

“Come!” he barked the ordered through the night air and slowly the four Knights moved as one into the open space.

“Where is she...” commented Bedivere glancing around, “there is naught here”

“I’m sorry...” whispered Francis looking at his feet, “they are here!” he called out in the darkness. The Knights drew their swords startled by the sudden movement all around them as the shadows detached themselves from the walls of the castle.

“What treachery is this?” hissed Kay as he found himself surrounded by a small group of Knights.

“I’m sorry...” whispered Francis, his own hand resting on the hilt of Excalibur.

Laughter filled the air and Morgan swept into the courtyard, her long flowing cloak falling from her shoulders and draped down her back as it floated behind her. “Excalibur is mine!” she declared throwing her hands in the air and laughing as tendrils of blue lightning were emitted from her hands and encompassed her body, swathing her hair and running along her body. Her eyes flashed manically and shone in the electrically charged atmosphere, “Mine!” she screamed as thunder cracked over the castle, “Excalibur is mine!”