Excalibur Rising (29 page)

     “But if Bors is going to fetch the sword, why are we leaving?” Ryan asked. “Why don’t we just wait for him to get back with it?”
     “Because no one except Arthur can bring Excalibur back to Albion,” said Mordricus.  “Now that we know where Arthur has been hidden, Bors will take him the sword.  Arthur and his knights will wake up, they’ll come back through the gate and I will be waiting for him.  I will finish what my ancestor started and the kingdom will be mine.”
     “You’re just going to … ambush him?” Ryan asked. “Is that honorable?”
     “Was it honorable of him to run away and hide?” Mordricus asked. “Was it honorable of him to abandon his kingdom?  Was it even honorable to turn the whole kingdom into a battleground rather than cede the throne to his true heir just because he was ashamed of the way he was conceived?  Arthur was an impotent old man whose barren wife had already left him for another. The Grail Knights had brought a new religion that robbed Merlin of his powers and even the power of Excalibur couldn’t bring Arthur a victory. He was already defeated.”
     Mordricus spurred his horse forward, turning its head towards the mountains where the beacon fires sent their message into the clear blue sky. “It’s time for the old man to die,” he said.
 

CHAPTER NINETEEN
Freddie “the Knife” Fowler
     Freddie felt the reassuring bulk of the Vegas mobster at his back. This was going to be a piece of cake. Nothing to fear from the angry old professor woman, the plump little American bird, the skinny girl in the blue dress, or the prissy little actor bloke who already looked terrified.  The American woman was distinctly pissed, and the skinny girl looked like she was going to cry, but what could they do?  Really, what were they going to do?
     Far more important was the fact that Pearlie White, Freddie’s boss, had given him orders to keep on the right side of Mandretti.  “Whatever he wants,” was the word from Pearlie. “Give him whatever he wants and get him off my patch as fast as you can.”
     Freddie was tired.  He’d been driving the whole night, chasing all over the countryside looking for this damned sword, and now they had it, so now what were they fighting about?  It was not like the sword was anything to write home about. Freddie had helped himself and his boss to articles of much greater value. He knew enough about jewelry and gem stones to know that those red stones were not rubies.  He couldn’t say what they were, but they weren’t rubies, garnets maybe, or just red glass, but not rubies.
     Well, rubies or not, all he had to do now was get Mandretti to Dover to meet up with the contacts who would take Mandretti and the sword across to the Continent.  After that it was up to Mandretti to take it the rest of the way.
     “Get in the car,” said Freddie.
     Mandretti sidled sideways, the sword still in his hand, and tried to open the rear door.
     “Locked,” he hissed to Freddie. “Why did you lock the damned door?”
     “I didn’t think we’d have to scarper like this,” said Freddie. “I thought you was all in this together.”
     “Well we ain’t,” said Mandretti.
     Freddie reached into his pocket to find the keys of the limousine. 
     “Hurry up,” said Mandretti. 
     “You can’t do this,” said the American woman.  Freddie knew her name because he had spent all night listening to them talking.  This one was Violet.
     He pulled the jangling bunch of keys from his pocket.  As he glanced down to find the correct key, a figure burst from the bushes at the side of the driveway.
     “Cor struth,” said Freddie, “who the hell is that?”
     He shoved the keys back into his pocket and turned to face the new attack.  The man was tall and broad shouldered, with a mane of unkempt sun streaked hair caked with something that looked suspiciously like blood.  He wore a tattered black leather jacket and a matching leather patch over one eye.  The remaining eye was focused not on Freddie, but on Mandretti and the sword. 
     He heard the little man’s squeal of fear.  Todd, that was his name.  Todd’s voice had gone up an octave as he screamed.
     “It’s the one-eyed man.  It’s him.”
     “Open the door,” said Mandretti.
     Violet hurled herself forward to stand between the attacker and Mandretti. Her sweat streaked face was a mask of determination.
     “You’re not taking it,” she said, looking between Mandretti and the newcomer.
     Freddie was unsure of his priorities.  Was he to protect Mandretti or the sword?  Was he also supposed to protect Violet? She was Mandretti’s employee so was she entitled to his protection?  Freddie’s boss protected his employees. Did Mandretti do the same thing? On the other hand, Mandretti and Violet seemed to be having their own disagreement about the sword.
     Freddie made the kind of snap decision that had made him his boss’s most valuable and trusted asset.  Mandretti and Violet could sort out their disagreement later. The real danger came from the one-eyed mad man rushing towards them screaming an unintelligible battle cry and wielding something that looked like an antique battle ax against which Freddie’s switchblade would be no protection.
     Freddie reached back and pulled the sword from Mandretti’s hand.
     “Hey, what the hell___” said Mandretti.
     “I’ll give it back,” said Freddie.
     He wrapped two hands around the sword hilt and raised it above his head.  Everything stopped. 
     He heard the music of the sword, singing in his head, a shattering anthem of war, conquest, and magic. Time no longer had any meaning. He saw history unfolding before him.  Knights in bright armor poured through a misty portal into a sundrenched land of green valleys and forested hills.  Here was a dragon for the sword to slay.  Here was a veiled lady to be rescued from a stone tower. Here were burning villages, and kneeling peasants, and here was a walled city on a hill, its gates open, and the drawbridge down to welcome the sword and the man who carried it at his side. 
     Here was a mystical golden chalice holding itself at a distance, beyond the reach of human hands.  Here was love and betrayal. 
     The sword was held by hands that had no right to hold it, and it was used to attack the weak and defenseless. After that came the darkness, a long, long period of darkness, and then a shattering explosion, daylight, and ignorant hands, and minds that could not hear the song of the sword.
     Freddie heard the man’s voice coming to him from a great distance, drowning the music.  “I’m taking it home.”  It was the voice of the one-eyed man.
     “Yes,” said Freddie, taking his first reluctant step away from the dream world. “It needs to go home.”
     “Get in the car.”  Mandretti had obviously felt nothing, but the girl in the blue dress was beside Freddie, her hand on his arm, and her small white fingers entwined with his around the hilt of the sword.
     “Is this Excalibur?” Freddie asked.
     “Yes,” she said.
     “I told you, I told you,” said Mandretti triumphantly. “Come on, we have to get it out of here.”
     Freddie shook his head. “The sword has to go home,” he said dreamily.
     “Home with me,” declared Mandretti.
     The one-eyed man stepped forward and dealt Mandretti a stunning blow to the side of his head.  He dropped to the ground like a felled ox.
     “Why can I feel it, but he can’t?” Freddie asked, looking down at the unconscious mobster and not even caring what the boss might have to say about Freddie’s handling of the situation.  Pearlie White and his East End gangsters were no longer of any interest to Freddie.
     “I saw everything,” said Freddie. “How?”
     The girl smiled at him. “You have the blood of the Pendragons in your veins.”
     “Me?” said Freddie. “I’m just Freddie Fowler.”
     The girl gazed at him with her startling blue eyes. “Long ago,” she said, “centuries ago, a descendant of Pendragons came here and fathered children.  Arthur, the High King, had only one child, but Uther Pendragon had many.  They were half-brothers to Arthur, and they were knights of the Grail.  They fathered children here, and you are their descendant. The sword has recognized you.”
     “No,” said Freddie. “I’m just a bloke from the East End. I’m a Londoner.”
     The girl’s gaze was becoming hypnotic.  Her blue eyes were the only thing penetrating the fog in Freddie’s mind.
     “You are of Albion,” she said, “and the sword has spoken to you.”
     “And now it’s speaking to me,” the one-eyed man said as he pulled Excalibur from Freddie’s grasp. The sword seemed to leave Freddie’s hand willingly, sliding smoothly from his grip.
     The one-eyed man introduced himself in a cultured English accent that was completely at odds with his appearance. “Bors, sometimes known as Pendragon.”
     “You can’t take it,” said Violet.
     Bors turned his one-eyed gaze upon her and she stood her ground.
     “Arthur needs it,” she said.
     “And he shall have it,” said Bors. “I am here to return it him.”
     “What about the children?” said Violet.
     “I’ll send them back,” said Bors.
     “I don’t believe you.”
     “Believe whatever you like,” said Bors, “but I can’t see any of you stopping me.  By the way, your boyfriend sends his regards.  I’ve promised him that I won’t kill you.”
     “What boyfriend?”
     “Professor Ryan.”
     “He’s not my ____”
     “He said the same about you,” said Bors.
     “You don’t know where Arthur is,” said Violet defiantly.
     “But you do,” said Bors, “and from what I understand we have very little time.  How fast is the water rising?”
     “I’ll tell you nothing,” said Violet.
     “I am already regretting my promise not to kill you,” said Bors.  He turned to the girl in the blue dress. “Lady Elaine,” he said, “you will tell me, won’t you?”
     She nodded her head.
     “No,” said Violet.
     “We must,” said Elaine.  “Without the sword, Arthur can do nothing.”
     “Yes, but he’s___”
     “I know what he is,” said Elaine, “but he is our only hope.  If we delay the cave will flood and there will be nothing we can do. Nothing. Ever.”
     Freddie felt a vast sadness flooding his brain, as though his mind was no longer his own, but still the mind of the sword. The sword needed to be reunited with its owner; the centuries had been too long.
     “I’ll drive you,” he said to Bors.  “I don’t know where you’re going or what’s going to happen, but I’ll take you.”
     “Then you’ll take us all,” said Violet, “I want to see the children.”
     “Okay,” said Freddie, “I’ll take you all.” 
     He looked down at the still unconscious form of Mandretti. He poked him with the toe of his shoe and was answered with a groan.
     “He ain’t dead,” he said.
     “If I meant to kill him, he would not be alive,” said Bors, “but we have no need of him.  Leave him here.”
     Freddie unlocked the limo. “Everybody in,” he said. “Somebody tell me where to go.”
     Freddie’s passengers tumbled through the doors.  Before they could even arrange themselves on the seats, Freddie floored the accelerator, sending gravel flying as he roared down the long driveway.  As they crested the last rise, with the battered iron gates already in sight, he brought the car to a screeching halt.
     Despite the magical spell of the sword and the images dancing in his brain, his driver’s instincts had kicked in, and registered three people standing in the road. He jabbed his finger on the window button and lowered the dark glass.
     “Get out of the road,” he yelled.
    The two children and the man in the brown robe scurried away into the bushes. The boy appeared to be talking on a cell phone and unaware of how close they had come to being run over.
     “Idiots,” said Freddie.
     “How the hell did they get here?” said Bors.
     “Stop,” said Violet, pounding on Freddie’s back.  “You have to stop. “  They’re Barry Marshall’s children.”
     Bors twisted in his seat and caught hold of Violet’s wrist.  Glancing in his rear view mirror, Freddie saw Violet grimace in pain.
     “No stopping,” said Bors. “I don’t know how the hell they got here, but they’re here, so just shut up about them. You understand me?  Shut up.”
     Violet’s face twisted in pain again.
     “Your boyfriend owes me one for keeping you alive,” Bors muttered as he released her wrist. Violet shrank back into her seat.
        Soon Freddie was on unfamiliar roads driving away from Griffinwood Manor and heading west towards the mountains.  He was a Londoner, familiar with the alleys of the East End, and had a passing familiarity with the main roads between major cities, but he had to be guided by Elaine through every twist and turn of the narrow rural roads where the bulky limousine could barely fit between the encroaching hedges and stone walls. 
At first they encountered little traffic but after a few miles they began to see people, cars, and then construction equipment, and TV news vehicles.
     “What’s going on?” he asked.
     “The dam,” said Elaine who was seated directly behind him.
     “You mean the one with the horses?” said Freddie.
     “Yes, that one.”
     “Hard to believe,” said Freddie. “We’re supposed to be a nation of animal lovers but we don’t mind drowning horses.”
     “They won’t drown,” said the old professor lady who was crammed into the back alongside Violet, “they have plenty of room to get out of there.”
     “They won’t move,” said Elaine. “They’re waiting.”
     “What the hell are they waiting for?” Freddie asked. “I always thought horses had sense, you know, horse sense.”
     “They’re waiting for Arthur,” said Elaine.
     “What do you mean?” said Violet. “You said that before; you said they were waiting.  How can they be waiting?”
     Todd interrupted any answer Elaine was about to give. “We’re being followed,” he said.
     “What?” Freddie looked in his mirror at the winding road behind them. “I don’t see nothing.”
     “Blue car,” said Todd, twisting to look out the rear window.  “I get a glimpse of it every now and then.”
     “My car?” Elaine asked.
     “I think so,” said Todd. 
     “Mandretti,” said Freddie, putting his foot down on the accelerator.
     “I left the keys in it,” Elaine wailed.
     “Wouldn’t make no difference,” said Freddie, “not to Mandretti.”
     “Turn,” Elaine screamed suddenly. “Turn here. Turn right.”
     “Where?” asked Freddie, seeing no side roads, or any other place to turn, only an abandoned farm house perched on the edge of a steep hillside.
     “Here,” Elaine said. “Turn here.”
     Freddie turned the big car, the brakes screaming and the wheels sliding on the gravel.
     “Now what?” he said.
     “They’re not here,” said Elaine. “Why aren’t they here?”
     “Who?” asked Todd.
     “Gavin and Robby,” said Elaine, “I told them to wait for me. Drive up to the edge.”
     “What edge?” said Freddie.
     “The edge of the hill,” said Elaine. “Hurry up, and he won’t know we’ve turned.”
     Freddie drove cautiously to the point where the ground dropped away into a vast blue nothingness.
     “Now what?” said Freddie. “Where do you want me to go?”
     “They’re not here,” said Elaine.  “We’ll have to risk it. Go on down before he sees you.”
     “Down there?”
     “Yes.”
     Freddie hesitated on the precipitous brink.  Far down below he could see abandoned farmhouses.  On the opposite side of the valley a waterfall poured down into a sluggish river. Bright yellow construction equipment crawled along a road that topped the towering dam that now closed the valley and stopped the flow of the river as it became a lake. A herd of panicked horses pounded along beside the ever widening river as helicopters roared overhead.
     “Down there?” he asked again.