They paused on a landing with three doors leading from it. Merlyn smiled.
“Victory is almost here.”
“Who are the people besieging Arthur?” Warren asked. “There were loads of people out there, all putting up tents. Some of them sounded Scottish.”
“Many. King Lot of Orkney, Arthur’s half-brother Carados of Cornwall, Clarion from Northumberland, Eskand, the Duke of Cambenic, King Yder, also from Cornwall, son of Nudd and also brother to Gwynvus, which I suppose will result in some awkward family Christmases at the end of this year. King Cradelmand, King Anguish of Ireland, the demi-god Bran of Gore, and of course his relative, Uhrience.”
Morgan’s eyes grew a degree brighter.
“And also…” A shadow fell over Merlyn’s face. “There are rumours of the King with a Hundred Knights coming to join the opposition.”
Morgan put her hands over her mouth. “Hide us,” she whispered.
“The who?” Warren said.
“No-one knows his true name. In fact, he might even be a she,” Merlyn said. “The King with a Hundred Knights is a force too powerful for people such as me. You see, he and his legion are from the land of the waking dead. Not Gore, where they go to rest and dream. The place where those monsters come from is something more like Hell.”
“My foster-father had to have dealings with him.” Morgan shuddered. “He had to pay him tribute to stop the dead leaking into the world of the living, and… well, I don’t wish to talk about it.”
“You must remain here until the war is done,” Merlyn told them both. “Ban and Bors wait in the forest, ready to launch a surprise attack on the enemy from behind. They’re our only secret weapon. It’s not a fair fight, seeing as Bran has his magic cauldron, the King of the Hundred Knights has one hundred soldiers already dead, Urhience has his bird-magic, and Yder has a little magic in his veins as well. I’ve exhausted my energies already turning Arthur into a golden eagle, and–”
“Wait,” Warren held up a hand. “That giant bird that flew us over here. That was Arthur?”
“Yes.” Merlyn was surprised at his incredulous reaction. “Didn’t you recognise him?”
Other Wossnames
One of my recent poems, “Blue + Green = Red” appeared in Beautiful Tragedies 3 (published by HellBound Books) last year. It’s about unrequited love, and jealousy, the colours of innocence and rage.
Nightwalks 