Merthur - Love in the Time of War

Chapter 28 - The Fallen Kingdom

Arthur's POV

"On me!" I shout, my voice rippling through the crowd as my army charges.

Knights dressed in Camelot red storm the army of druids and sorcerers waiting outside the gate. The sound of metal on metal ring out around the lower town. Fires burn across the houses and market stalls. Snow layers the paths, scarlet splatters stain the otherwise flawless white.  

I twirl Excalibur in the air once before slashing down at the nearest druid. I cut him down easily, feeling guilt wash over me as the man collapses to the dirt. 

I turn in time to see a fireball being hurtled in my direction from the sky. The mighty roar of a dragon echoes overhead as the fire approaches. I leap out of the way, rolling in the dirt before rising on one knee to thrust my sword into an oncoming man's chest. I pull my sword out just as the fireball makes contact with a building behind me. Splinters rain down upon my army. Planks of wood crash down all around us. 

I can feel the heat from the fire against my back as I charge in again, sword raised. The sorcerers are pushing us back. They've taken almost a quarter of the lower town already. Camelot's citadel may be an impregnable fortress but even it cannot stand against an army of angry sorcerers and a dragon for long. 

I raise my sword, about to perform a feint when a white flash obscures my vision. I launch myself backwards, as far away from the light as possible. I shield my eyes from the blinding glare just as a loud crack resounds across the battlefield. Many of my knights are blown backwards off their feet. I see Leon collapse on the ground beside me, groaning in pain. 

The light eventually dies down, revealing a smoking and charred area of dirt a few meters away. The knights that had been unfortunate enough to have been caught in the blast look burned. Most, if not all, are not moving. 

I grit my teeth in anger as a figure emerges through the crowd. I rise to my feet, hefting my sword, ready to fight whomever had sent the blast of lightning. 

The first thing I see are his eyes and immediately I know who it is. His irises are burning gold, the usual calming blue are gone. He's dressed in chainmail with a pauldron strapped over his shoulder. A blue cape billowed in the breeze behind him while a staff topped with an aqua gem glittered in his hands. His sword was strapped to his belt, knocking against his thigh as he approached. Even I could feel the power emanating from who I used to think as a harmless and gentle soul.

My anger left me as quickly as it had arrived. My arms dropped down to my sides. I could not fight Merlin. I would face dragons, griffins, the Questing Beast, anything, so long as I never had to fight him. 

I could see the anger flare in his eyes when he sees my hesitation. He hands the staff over to a young man with curly brown hair and unclips the cape from his shoulders. He lets it flutter to the ground before pulling his sword from its sheath. He holds the blade aloft in front of him, eyes still burning a bright gold.

"Fight me, Arthur Pendragon," he says in a low growl.

"No," I say, voice firm with resolve. "I will not."

Merlin takes another step closer. "Fight me you coward!"

"No! I will not fight you, Merlin! Just let me-"

"I will not listen to your excuses."

I swallow the lump in my throat, knowing deep down that Merlin would not listen, that I would have to fight eventually. Out of the corner of my eye I see Leon struggle to his feet. He makes his way over to my side. "My lord, you mustn't fight. Allow me to-"

"No," I cut him off, "I cannot allow you to fight in my stead. This is my fight. Nobody else's."

"But sire-"