Merlin: The Light of Eriador

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

At the end of the green-lit path, he would find Bryan.  With each footstep, he was becoming more certain of it.  The dark sorcerer’s magic had a distinct feel.  It was a bubble of anger and hate.  He was in many ways like Cornelius Sigan, the vengeful warlock who had tried to take his body and soul.  Bryan of Vallonia, now a Druid of the Black Leaf, was a man who had learned magic rather than inherited it.  His wife’s talents were inborn, but not his.  His motives for taking on such a difficult study had been selfish.  From what Odran had said, the half-brother Bryan had struggled and not quite found his place within his own family.  The result had been the loss of his birthright and the death by his hand of the elder Godric.  Bryan was, in Merlin’s eyes, a broken man, and the young warlock could only feel pity for him.  Perhaps this could have been his, Merlin’s, fate, had he not had such a loving mother, caring guardian, and dollop head friend.  

He heard a voice in his head, playful yet sinister.  “Come, Emrhys.  I don’t bite.  Come closer so that I may see your eyes.”

Merlin knew that his eyes had been glowing without interruption ever since that moment when he had pretended to be hurt to Arthur.  Now he was feeling guilty about the lie.  It might have been the last thing spoken between them.  He hated that notion.  He had always expected, hoped, that at the end there would be no more secrets.  Well, it was all stupid and naïve, a fool’s dream; Emmerich’s presence now in his life was the proof of that.  There would be no moment of truth, no applause and no sounding bells, not for him, anyway.  He would stay forever in Arthur’s shadow or die here in this clearing; either way, his luck wasn’t improving.

“Here we are,” said an ominous voice that was echoing all around him.  “You’re not very impressive are you, Emrhys, but your eyes… They tell a different story, don’t they?”

He had now come to the end of the path and Bryan was standing just a few feet in front of him, his black cloak thrown over his shoulders revealing muscular features.  He had drawn druid symbols on his shaved head, which only amplified his imposing persona.  There was another person present: his druid wife Glinda who had healed Merlin with magic.  She was not standing next to her husband but she was crawling at his feet and she was in tears.  Merlin immediately saw blood trickling through her fingers and she was clutching her left arm.

He could hear her plead.  “Please, you have to stop.  You cannot do this.  Don’t you realise who he is?”

“Let her go,” cried out Merlin defiantly.  

“How dare you speak to me?” burst out the Black Druid.  “How dare you even show yourself here and now?  I do not care what the others call you.  You are nothing compared to me!”

“Where is King Ulrik?” asked Merlin, changing the subject.

Bryan laughed cruelly.  “Ulrik is mine and at dawn justice will be done.”

“You mean murder,” said Merlin between gritted teeth.

Bryan took a step forward, his face red with anger.  “It’s not different from what he wanted to do to me when he found out what I could do, what I had learned.  I devoted countless hours of study for our people.  I acquired knowledge so that I may use the power of the elements to help our small kingdom become a greater nation.  And what does he do?  He shuts me out like a criminal.  He would have burned me at the stake!”

Merlin snorted cynically.  “And now you are doing the same thing to him, is that it?  And then, what?  Do you think the people of Vallonia will give you the crown once you’ve killed their king?  Do you think his knights will swear their allegiance to a tyrant?”