Merlin's Shadow (29 page)

M
erlin felt the color drain from his cheeks as the bars rattled again, and in rage the prisoner screamed out, “Ken-sa! Ken-tha! Ken-NA-sa!”

Merlin swallowed. It was indeed Kensa, dirty almost beyond recognition, and angry.

He stepped forward and held the light so she could see him. “We've come to free you.” He held up the keys.

The features of her face softened beneath the purple hat, and she blinked at him. “Son of … Theneva?”

“Yes.”

“De son … of Theneva Gweviana has come … see old Kensa?” She withdrew her hands from the bars and brought one of her fingers to her pouting lower lip.

Merlin handed his lamp to Peredur. Then he inserted the smallest key into the lock holding the chains, slid it, unthreaded the
chains, and pulled the door open. The rusty hinges groaned and echoed through the tunnel.

Kensa stepped timidly into the light of the rush lamps and looked at each one of them. Then she opened her arms and gave Merlin a warm embrace. She was so short, and her spine so permanently bent over that she barely made it to his chest. “Och, och, och,” she said as she looked up into his eyes. “I nurse Gweviana when she a liddle bairn. Her muther dust, yes. Liddle bairn grown upp, gone long time. You come … save me. Gweviana send ye!”

Merlin's face turned red. “Yes, Kensa, I've come to save you. Why … why are you so dirty?” He brushed off a layer of soil from her gray hair, and patted her head.

“Kensa vas diggin', yes! Kensa tried dig to light, but many stanes hurt Kensa's old fangers.”

With her face so sullied, Merlin wondered if she was digging with her nose as well.

Bedwir stepped in and got her attention by waving his hand. “Kensa … we need your help. The baby, Arthur … where did your king take him?”

“Take de bairn? Atle gonn with bairn? Ah, den old Kensa vil be dust fer sure.”

“Where, Kensa? Where did Atle take the child?”

Kensa looked down as if she were ashamed. “To de dark north.”

“To the Picts —?”

“No, no, no,” she said, pushing her hat up off one eye, “nott to Pictland. De child haf been taken over de sea.”

Merlin took hold of Kensa's hand. “Across the sea? To where?”

“Beyond de land o' de Lochlaners — to de land o' de dead.” She stamped her foot and looked at them like they should have known such an obvious thing.

The words thrust into Merlin's heart like a spear, deadly and true. Fearsome tales were told of this mythical land in the far north where the light never shone and the dead walked. And Atle had taken Arthur there? Surely not —

“Dis a ninth year … Efery ninth, King Atle and us — his whole house — return home … to de land o' de dead, andd bring a liddle bairn whose father ess no more. Whose muther ess no more.”

“Why, Kensa? Why did he take Arthur?”

“Tay sacrifice the liddle bairn — don'cha know dis? Ever-man know et on Dinpelder.”

Merlin's mouth went dry.

Bedwir's face turned ashen, as did Garth's. Peredur's eyes went wide, but Caygek leaned against the wall and studied the embroidered hem of his sleeve.

Merlin forced his tongue to move, even though it felt like lead. He had to know. “Kensa, when will Atle sacrifice Arthur?”

“Och, ye ask a turrible lotsa questions. The babe ess sacrificed when de moon is dark … on de darkest nicht … in de darkest land.”

A slight grin of triumph formed on Caygek's face as he looked at Merlin. “The winter solstice? That would mean I was corr —”

“Nott, nott,” she said, and she tapped him on the chest. “Yerr a druid, and ye know nothin' o' Lochlan rites. I said whenn de moon is dark.”

Merlin tried to think when last he'd seen the moon. It had been a few days ago on their journey, before the clouds had hid its face. It had been waxing, and now it must be half full. That would give them twenty days before Arthur died. And how far would they have to travel to catch Atle? He wanted to ask this, but Kensa began to cry.

Her tears mixed with the dirt on her face, and she grabbed Merlin's blue tunic and smeared them off. “Andd Kensa displease her king and he haf forgotten me. Me own king … he nott taken me vith, and so I ess dust … even as me father ess dust.”

“Merlin hasn't forgotten you. None of us have.” And he turned and pointed to the others. “We want to help, Kensa.”

She smiled then, her crooked teeth showing proudly, and reached out to each one in turn, taking their hand and squeezing it. When she got to Garth, she smiled, compared their heights with her gnarled hand, and then gave a little tug on his red hair.

Merlin addressed them all. “So we know what to do. We have to get to the village below the hill — the one on the seacoast — procure a ship, and follow Atle north. We have less than twenty days.”

“But how do we know where to go?” Bedwir asked. “Atle will be far ahead of us. We'll never find him. Not without a guide.”

Garth jumped, his eyes bright. “I can sail, sir!”

Merlin nodded. “But where do we go? Kensa, does Atle have any maps to this place?”

Kensa squinted her eyes and scratched her head. “Aye, he do haf lotsa parchments … efen a codex or two from them suffer-makin' Romans —”

“Merlin,” Bedwir interrupted, “we better get back up before the lamps go out.”

Bedwir's was burning low, and Peredur's was even worse.

Up they went, Merlin helping Kensa on the steep steps.

Upon emerging to the fresh air in the hall, Merlin gave Garth and Peredur the key ring and sent them up to Atle's quarters. Then he explained to Colvarth and Natalenya what they'd learned of Arthur. Natalenya covered her eyes at the news, and Colvarth's shoulder's drooped.

Kensa went straight to the kitchen, came back with what looked like a bone-shaped root, and began munching on it. Merlin bent over and sniffed, and the aroma stung his nose. He could hardly believe it: She was eating a raw horseradish root — stripping off the moist fibers and mashing them between her teeth.

“The sea radish is to helpp me tumm after dem bugs.”

“Bugs?”

She looked at him like he was daft. “Och, they all crawls upp de tunnel — an's I catched ‘em and ett ‘em, I did. I been put there afore, an if ye gets hungry, that's all der ess to eat.”

Something about this pricked Merlin's awareness. “They get in the tunnel from where?”

She took a big bite and chewed thoughtfully.

“Kensa …
how do the bugs get in the tunnel?
”

She swallowed. “From below … Dey bugs climb en when its cold uttside. De tunnel goes down to de secret door. It be de king's escape route, but shush, I'm nott supposed to tell.”

Colvarth, who'd been listening, stepped closer. “Kensa … you mean all of us can take the tunnel down to the ground? There are no guards?”

“Och, sure, lad. There're no guards because et ess a secret.” She patted him on the head, took another bite, and smiled.

Peredur bounded down from the upper levels, a bunch of parchments under his arms. Behind him came Garth carrying a sword.

Merlin sucked in his breath. It was
his
blade. The one his father had made.

Garth bowed as he handed it over, and Merlin was speechless.

“I found it locked in Atle's room. He seemed to have forgotten to take it. I also found other blades, but they're nothin' special compared to yours.” He handed them to Bedwir, Peredur, and Caygek, keeping a short sword for himself.

Merlin's hands fairly shook to hold his father's old sword once again. It had suffered some rust during its stay with Necton, but not badly. A little rubbing, a little oil, and it would be good as new. “How can I thank you?”

“You returned me father's bagpipe once upon a time, and I've got the priv'lege o' giving you back yer father's sword. Consider us even, captain.”

Merlin clasped Garth in a bear hug.

Meanwhile, Bedwir and Caygek had cleared a table for Peredur, who laid out his parchments. Kensa stepped over, and, in between bites of horseradish, pointed to a very old one among the pile.

Peredur untied its ribbon and unrolled it upon the table. It was a crudely drawn map, but a map nonetheless. Colvarth studied it, bringing his aged eyes within a hand's breadth of the ink. After a short while, he pointed to a mark on the coast of Britain. “Here is where King Atleuthun's fortress lies.” And then he slid his finger northward, across the sea … and to the coast of some strange land
Merlin had never before seen on a map. “And here is, to the best of my knowledge and understanding of this map, the place Atle is sailing for. It is not close … No, for the runes indicate three hundred leagues.”

So far in only twenty days. Merlin didn't know if they could do it. “Are you sure?” he asked, hoping Colvarth was wrong.

“I have studied Lochlan runes before, and that is my best deduction. Our current location says ‘The fortress belonging to Atle,' and far northward, here, in the land of the dead, the runes say ‘Atle's Temple.' I cannot be sure, but with what you told me of your conversation with Kensa, and what very little I know of their rites, it seems likely. Why he would go to such a remote place, however, I cannot fathom.”

Merlin looked to Kensa, and she nodded with pursed lips. “Och, dat be de place.”

“Have you been there before?”

“I vas born der, but since … since … I been twenty times, I suppose. Double me fangers. Nort ve always sail for many a day. Rough seas too, dis time o' year. Et's always a cold trip.”

Merlin tried to do the math, but the numbers he calculated didn't make sense so he turned to a new problem. “Kensa, are there ships in the village?”

“Aye,” she said as she bit off another strip of horseradish.

“So who'll help rescue Arthur?” Merlin asked, turning to the men for the second time.

Bedwir was the first to step forward. “Like you, I've sworn my oath.”

Garth jumped next to him, a smile on his face. “If it involves savin' Arth' and sailin' then I'm yer man!”

Caygek shook his head and said nothing.

Peredur started to speak, blinked, and then swallowed. “I owe my freedom to you, Merlin, and though I don't want to go anywhere but home, I'll help … if you'll have a horse trader's simple son.”

Merlin shook his hands and thanked him.

It didn't take long to gather everything needed, including food, for their journey — salted meat, stale bread, and some grain. As Garth retrieved his bagpipe from upstairs, Merlin knelt to help Natalenya stand up. She lay facing the wall, apparently asleep, with the dog resting under her hand.

“It's time to go,” he said, tenderly tapping her on the shoulder.

She didn't answer, but only shook her head.

“Natalenya …”

“I'm not coming.”

Merlin thought about Loth and Natalenya having hushed conversation in her room. Perhaps Loth had been wooing her, and she wanted to stay. Perhaps he could heal her when he came back. Marry her. Maybe he wasn't like Atle. Maybe he was like Merlin's mother. “I understand. Loth … and his physician.”

Colvarth, who'd been sitting on a nearby bench fingering his harp, spoke up. “That is not why, foolish Merlin. Neither of us think we can survive such a journey. We are agreed in this.”

Natalenya turned around then and faced him. “I've gotten worse — even in the last few hours. I don't know what's going to happen to me.”

“You don't look any sicker,” he said, but it wasn't true. Her breathing was more shallow than he had ever seen. Dear God, what was he to do?

“I feel it … I know it.”

“We will stay,” Colvarth said, “and distract the guards so they will not suspect you have left. Perhaps in a few days we will make our own way down through the tunnel and find a place in the village. If the guards catch us, at least they will not be able to stop your mission.”

Merlin shook his head. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. What if she died while he was gone? He would never see her again. Maybe he should let Bedwir lead Arthur's rescue. How could he ever face Natalenya's mother and tell her he'd left her to die? How could he ever face himself again? He had failed her, and now what was he to do?

Natalenya sat up, and the pain could be seen in the creased lines on her face. She took hold of his elbow and pulled him close. “Merlin mab Owain — do you love me?”

He wanted to tell her he loved her, but couldn't. He did love her; more than he had realized. And the feeling welled up in him like an overpowering wave that he couldn't suppress.

He swallowed, and then nodded.

She looked at him, as if confused while trying to read his expression. “Merlin, do you love me?”

He tried to look away from her, but her gaze was so strong, so searching, that he couldn't.

“Yes,” he said. How had he ever stuffed the feeling down?

“Then go,” she whispered. “Go and rescue Arthur if it's the last thing you do. They need you. Arthur needs you. I'll be all right. Colvarth will take care of me. God will take care of me. No matter what happens.”

He embraced her, blinking to keep the tears at bay and holding his breath. “We'll come back,” he choked out. “I — I —”

“No promises. Now go.”

He hugged her. A slow hug, longer than any he'd ever given her.

God, help her to know that I love her. May she hold on to hope and … and …

But he couldn't think these thoughts. He had to go. He had to go now — before he cried.

Thankfully, Colvarth broke the tension. “There is one thing more,” the bard said, but he sniffled along with his words.

“What's bothering you?” Merlin asked. “Tell me.”

“I only regret that I have not yet taught you to be a bard. Who will take up the Harp of Britain after me?”