Child of Time: The Pendragon Line

Part 4: A Wulf and a Key

He was tall, broad and stood with a commanding, powerful stance. His dark brown hair hung wet and dripping onto his wide shoulders. Raising up a giant bear paw of a hand, he scratched thoughtfully at the five o'clock shadow that had begun spreading across his masculine face. Icy blue eyes bore down at me before glancing upwards and down the pathway.

I sat motionless unable to move by his overpowering presence. Slowly, I began to visually take him in. His armour appeared better kept than Galahads and sparkled with more ornate trimmings. His arm bands were ringed in gold and his tunic was a deep rich burgundy. Upon his chest was the same dragon signet that the other two had worn.

Turning his attention back to me he sighed and bent down to his knees and pulled me easily up by the elbow.

His touch was light and gentle; his face was stern yet held an inner softness.

Without uttering a single syllable he pulled me into a canopy of blackberry bushes.

Thorns scratched at our arms and tugged at my clothing as we quickly moved deeper, eventually crouching down far enough to be hidden nature but still see a clear view of the pathway.

Crouching in the mud he hovered so closely to me that I could feel his warm breath on my neck, slowly he brought a finger to his lips, keeping his eyes expertly on the path and made a motion for me to remain silent. Still under his spell I could do nothing else but obey.

Nodding I silenced my breath, inhaling slowly as if that would minimize our presence. His scent drifted around me, lingering of lake water and sweat. He stood hunched over, balancing on the balls of his feet with eyes glued to the pathway. There was nothing threatening about him, he was simply drawn to the path.

Eventually, the two thugs came thundering down into view, their loud hollow echoes of their boots on the wood soon became softer thuds as they came off of the boardwalk and onto the trodden path.

As they naively passed our hiding place, I could see the red sweltering face of the man I had pepper sprayed, his face wet with tears. A large blue vein protruded from his forehead as his blood boiled with anger. His skinny accomplice followed closely at his heels, looking more scared by his friend's mood than enraged.

They passed quickly, without a second thought. They simply charged forward not even bothering to glance away from the path ahead.

Once they were safely out of distance the armoured man huffed and stood shaking his head slowly.

With a long sigh he looked down at me thoughtfully and offered his hand to help me up.

"Beowulf!" A familiar voice called.

I turned to see, struggling through the underbrush, none other than Merlin, Galahad and Lancelot.

Looking much worse and more beat up then when I had left them earlier that day.

"Any luck?" asked Beowulf, my rescuer. It was the first time I had heard his voice. It was deep and scratchy.

This couldn't be happening I thought to myself. None of this makes any sense; it's all so weird and confusing. I felt like I was in the middle of story book and any minute now something even weirder was going to happen. Just wait, I will turn around and there will be a purple dinosaur baking cakes and telling me this is all a dream.

Right?

I crossed my fingers and looked over my shoulder, but there was no dinosaur and no cake to wake me from this nightmare.

"No luck, but we keep running into those blasted tentacles" Said Lancelot furrowing his brow in frustration and using a handkerchief to wife green sludge off of his sword.

"To add more pleasure to this wonderful adventure, Merlin lost the key"

"I didn't lose it; I simply put it down and forgot" Replied Merlin with a shrug and smile that made his dark eyes sparkle with amusement.

Despite not having spent a lot of time with this odd group of men, I could already tell that their personalities clashed. In opposition to his dark appearance Merlin gave off a very carefree presence, while Lancelot acted more proper and pristine, not overly appreciating anything that wasn't overly efficient.

Galahad stood there patiently, resting his sword over his shoulder. He had yet to say very much as Merlin and Lancelot began to make arguable plans as to what to do next.

Beowulf stood there with a crooked grin, nodding as he pulled a map from his belt that I recognized as one of the City Tourism maps that we often handed out at the Gallery where I worked.

"Think carefully Merlin" Beowulf said in his deep voice, "where did you last see it?"

Merlin took a deep breath and shrugged, "Oh here and there"

"Here and there isn't an answer!" Lancelot raged.

Galahad placed a large gloved hand on Lancelot's shoulder and shook his head, as if to say, "Calm down, this isn't the way to get answers".

"It must be around these woods somewhere" Merlin continued.

I couldn't do anything but shake my head at the whole situation and for a moment I considered sneaking away. They didn't need me there and I was beginning to worry that those thugs from the bridge would begin to backtrack any minute now.

Somehow I felt safer with this group of burly armoured men, plus there was still a chance that this could all be some terrible dream.

I looked over at Beowulf who was running one of his large hands through his tangled hair in frustration over Merlin's joviality.

My heart began to race as he looked up from the map and smiled at me.

I blushed and turned to stare at my feet.

Merlin slid over and wrapped one long arm around my shoulder and rested his forehead against mine, startling me and completely invading my personal space.

After a couple of seconds of trying to inch away, I gave up and stood there, head-to-head with a possible madman.

Finally he spoke, boring his eyes into mine. "Archer, how well do you know this forest?"

"Pretty well, I come here every day...but it's not a forest, it's just a park and it really only goes in a circle if you follow the path."

He said nothing but continued staring at me.

"Merlin, I barely know you...and you're kind of encroaching into my personal bubble."

Merlin's eyes widened curiously. He reminded me of a child, as if he never learned how people should act around one another and everything was still completely fascinating.

Why weren't the others saying anything about this strange behaviour, was this normal for him? Something told me it just might be.

I coughed clearing my throat in agitation, determined to get my point across I steadied myself to star him down. "By that I mean, could we please stop touching foreheads and talk normally?"

"Why?" he tightened his grip around my shoulder. "Do you have something to hide? Could you be fibbing?"

He began pushing his forehead harder into mine, now the two of us were not just head to head but nose to nose and toes to toes.

I teetered on my heels, struggling to keep my balance while at the same time attempting to push the possibly 180 pound, 6'7" man off me.

Needless to say, I didn't stand a chance.

We stood so closely that I swear his dark eyes began to stir, swirl and change. I saw flecks of blue and then of gold with bits of green.

It reminded me of the boardwalk and the way I had come from work.

More swirls of gold began to churn until as soon as it had begun it stopped and I found myself free from Merlin's grasp. I stood there blinking and confused but with one question in my mind.

"Is your key a golden dagger?"

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Authors Note:

What do you guys think is going to happen? Whose your favourate? Merlin, Lancelot, Beowulf or Galahad? ;)