The Rise of Arthur Pendragon

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Arthur stood bolt upright, staring straight into those cold grey eyes and, his body shaking with rage, hissed; "Let. Her. Go." Mordred stared right back at him and whispered, his mouth curling into a malicious smile; "But where's the fun in that?" Merlin was kneeling on the floor desperately trying to break through the spell that was keeping him from Alia. But he just wasn't powerful enough. He supposed the shield must be held by every single one of Mordred's magicians together. That was the reason it was so strong. Franticly, the young warlock searched his mind for some kind of magic that could help them. But he just couldn't think straight. "What have you done to her?" Arthur was still breathing heavily. "Oh don't worry your highness she's not dead. Not yet." Mordred's smile widened with glee at the looks of pure horror that flashed across both Merlin and Arthur's faces. "What are you doing here Mordred? We know this isn't you. What happened to the scared little Druid boy, and the brave and loyal knight? Stop this Mordred. Please."

Mordred looked at Merlin, almost as if contemplating doing what Merlin told him to. And Merlin knew there was hope for him yet. Sadly, Mordred seemed to shake himself internally and said; "You would like that wouldn't you Emrys." All the while Arthur had been staring at the raggedy heap that was his friend and trying desperately to think of a way to save her. If only there was a way to get Mordred to lower the shield. Then, an idea began to form in his head. Not being able to think of anything better to do Arthur decided to try. "You're a coward Mordred.", he spat. Immediately, the warlock's head whipped around to fix the King with his hard grey eyes. "What did you just call me?" "You heard me. You're a coward. Hiding away all this time. Biding your time gathering an army to back you up. If it's me you want, then it's me you'll get." Slowly yet purposefully, the King reached up and removed his right gauntlet. With one swift motion the gauntlet landed at the edge of the barrier before Mordred's feet. He in turn narrowed his eyes at Arthur. Merlin watched the proceedings growing more and more confused. What on earth did Arthur think he was doing? You could see the cogs whirring in Mordred's head, trying to decide wether or not to accept Arthur's proposal.

Merlin was struggling to understand what his friend was trying to achieve with this. But then, with a meaningful glance from Arthur, he caught on. "He's right you know.",Merlin told Mordred, "If it was Camelot you wanted, you could easily have taken it after he died. We were weak and vulnerable but you just hid." That did it. Now that pride gotten the better of Mordred he said; "Fine. If that is what you wish then that is what you shall get." Mordred's eyes flashed red and Merlin could tell he was ordering his minions to let down the shield. The air before them flickered and the barrier was gone. "Ready Pendragon?", Mordred sneered, advancing on the King. "Always.", came Arthur's reply.

Then he reached for his sword. Merlin thought it strange that they hadn't taken their weapons but he certainly didn't mind. Arthur gave him another sideways glance and Merlin understood. Slowly but steadily he began to creep around Mordred towards Alia. He heard Arthur draw and then charge headlong at his enemy. But before he had even reached him, Arthur had been swept of his feet by a flick of Mordred's wrist. Quickly, Arthur rose and dived at him. Mordred sidestepped but Arthur had seen it coming and swiftly rolled out of his dive, spun around on the ground and before Mordred had the chance to utter another spell and kicked out a leg to send the sorcerer sprawling across the ground. "Now Merlin! Run!" Arthur scooped Alia's limp body up in his arms. Merlin turned to face Mordred who was scrambling to his feet again. "Wáce ierlic!" Suddenly, Mordred was thrown backwards against a wall. There was a sickening crunch as his skull connected with the stones and he slid to the ground, a trickle of blood running down his face. "Go Arthur! He won't be out for long!" And so the King of Albion bolted out of his own throne room, carrying the unconscious physicians apprentice in his arms, his loyal manservant by his side.