Merlin's Gold

Merlin's Gold - Chapter 16 - Into the Dragon's Lair

Chapter 16 - Into the Dragon's Lair

The following morning Grayle made his way to the top of the hill, and found Merlin and Cadan looking into the carefully lined hole that had affectionately become known as "The Pit". The A-framed wooden crane had been moved back over the shaft and, as Grayle watched, several bucket loads of stone were removed from the shaft, two men on ropes watching out for falling debris as they were lifted out above them.

"How are things progressing?" asked Grayle.

Merlin looked up from the hole, his pale eyes boring into Grayle's in the early morning light.

"We're getting there. We're just removing the last of the cap debris; you can see the broken upper branches of the old tree there. Once we've removed all the stone and loose branches, we can get a rope around the main trunk of the tree and hoist it up and out in one go. I'm hoping in a few hours time we may be able to get down into the shaft. Would you care to join me? I need someone intelligent to come down with me into the base of the hole, to help me catalogue what's there without rooting around and breaking things. What do you think?"

"I'd be honoured to accompany you, my Lord Merlin," said Grayle politely. "Do you need me to tie the rope around the tree?"

"No, the lad Jago has volunteered, although we're still trying to teach him how to tie the right knot at the moment, he's not always the sharpest sword in the armoury. If you could organise some torches for later on it'd be appreciated. How's your grandfather?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Depressed. I think it's suddenly hit him exactly what has happened, and he's refusing to talk to anyone except Percival, and all he does then is shout at him. He told him it was all his fault he'd lost his hand and eye this morning, which is untrue and unfair."

"Depression is a nasty thing boy, never underestimate its power. Your grandfather has finally been beaten, not in battle or by old age, but by cunning. In his eyes, he is no longer a fighting man, but a cripple, an article of pity, and ultimately he will take the anger and perceived shame of his new condition out on the one person who loves him more than anyone else." 

Merlin paused to rest a hand on Grayle's shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll sort something out. In the meantime, go and sort those torches out and we'll see about getting down into the shaft below the pit. I warn you, it could be interesting."

~

Percival walked up to the hastily erected cells constructed against the rear wall of the compound. They held two men, Tomas and Camlan, each in a separate cell. Solid wooden beams had been nailed firmly together to prevent escape, and slats at the front allowed a view of the prisoners inside.

The knight motioned at the guard to let Tomas out, and Morholt and two soldiers took him away to leave Percival alone with the other man.

Camlan sat against a side wall of the cell, his forester garb stripped of all weaponry and insignia. He sat staring into space, playing absently with a fine gold chain hanging around his neck, a small pixie-like golden figure dangling absently from his fist.

As Percival moved in close, Camlan tucked the chain inside his shirt, rising smoothly to his feet: a cat confined in a box.

"So, Sir Percival, come to gloat?"

"Gloat? No. I just was just making sure you're fit enough to face justice."

"Ah yes, trial by combat. I'm rather looking forward to it. Innocent until proven innocent I believe." Camlan smiled broadly at him.

"Maybe, maybe not. We'll have to see tomorrow won't we?" Percival looked him in the eye. "Why?"

"Why what?"