Arthur's Sons (Book 2)

The Witch's Quickening (Part 1)

A wild mid-summer storm whipped and lashed at the windows of Camelot castle while its occupants slept soundly. Merlyn was sprawled against Arthur's chest after a few enthusiastic rounds of sex since the storm would hide her intense magical outbursts. They had both been snoring for quite a while when Merlyn is startled awake by a voice whispering through her mind.

"Take the north door straight ahead. Keep going." It was a child's voice and for a moment Merlyn thought it was Rowan or Arty until they spoke up.

"Mother, did you hear that?" Rowan asked telepathically, his mental voice thick with sleep.

"Keep going. Hurry!" The voice cried again and Merlyn sat up.

"Yes, track it, I'll wake your father." She replied before gently shaking Arthur until his snores choked off and he blinked up at her blearily.

Arthur sighed tiredly. "Merlyn, as much as I enjoy your endurance I think we've done enough for one night don't you?" He mumbled sleepily and Merlyn huffed before rolling her eyes.

"Agreed but I need you to get up, there's someone with magic in the castle." She informed him while shaking his shoulder.

Arthur's eyes flew open and he sat up so quickly they nearly bumped heads. "What? How do you know?" He asked voice rough with sleep.

"They keep speaking telepathically, Rowan and Arty are currently tracking them but we need to go now." She told him, Arthur nodded before they both hurried out of bed and dressed. Arthur wore his gambison but forwent his armour before grabbing his sword and racing out the door with Merlyn hot on his heels.

Meanwhile, Arty and Rowan followed the voices until they spotted some suspicious men carrying a barrel into Camelot. Rowan grabs his brother's hand and drags him into the shadows teleporting them down to the same level as the men dressed as knights of Camelot. They follow until the men stop and place the barrel down at the steps of the palace.

A tall dark-haired man begins removing the Knights armour. "Wait in the Forest of Brekkba. By the fork on the north ridge." He orders the other men who nod quickly and hurry off.

The man lifts the lid off the barrel and reaches inside to pull out a child in a familiar dark green cloak, Rowan stiffens as he realises that the boy is Mordred, the one destined to kill their father and grits his teeth.

"Are you ready?" The man asks, Mordred nods. Mordred and the stranger run up the steps into the palace.

They move through the corridor behind them with grim expressions before they hear Mordred's voice whisper through their minds. "Be careful. At the end of the corridor. Morgana's Chamber is next."

Rowan feels dread pour down his spine as the words of the dragon echo through his mind like an ancient warning. They watch as the stranger spells open the door and the two magicians step inside, Rowan turns to his brother. "Go get Father." Arty nods before turning and hurrying on silent feet back down the corridor while Rowan slinks closer to listen.

"Mordred." Morgan's voice rings through the door filled with shock. A moment later the warning bells begin tolling so Rowan presses his ear to the door to listen.

"I thought I'd never see you again." Morgana cried as she hugged the boy.

The stranger spoke next with a smirk. "I found the boy wandering in the woods, lost and alone, hunted by Uther's men."

Morgana clutched Mordred closer and narrowed her emerald eyes at the strange man. "Who are you?" She asks suspiciously.

"My name is Alvarr. I, too, have been hunted by Uther since I was a child." He tells her, his voice softening as if he were trying to calm a scared child.