Merlin: Dawn of the Dragonlord

Chapter 12: Close Encounter

Chapter 12: Close Encounter

Arthur was already outside and untying his sword from his horse’s saddle when Gwaine and Lancelot caught up with him.

“I know you don’t really care about the curfew,” said Lancelot bluntly, “but to go riding at dusk in a forest that’s unknown to us is not reasonable.”

Arthur was pulling hard on the straps of his belt to secure his sword.  “I’m done being reasonable,” he snapped back.  “You heard him!  The curfew; it’s because of a curse.  If there’s any trouble around here you can bet that Merlin is involved.  I’m not waiting until someone brings the news that he’s dead.”

Arthur regretted saying the dreadful word almost straight away.  Dead.  He couldn’t bear the thought that he might never see Merlin again, that their lasts words had been shouts of anger.  He hated that thought even though he knew that it was all really… ridiculous.  

These feelings were absurd beyond belief.  He was Prince Arthur and he was on a quest.  This wasn’t only about finding Merlin; it was a journey that would decide the fate of Camelot.  Ultimately, there was a choice to be made.  At the end of this trip, he would either side with his father’s new rule of killing sorcerers on sight, or he would take action against it.  Finding Merlin was going to help him make that choice.  He couldn’t allow himself to get emotional.

Calm down, he thought as he stared into his horse’s eyes.  It must be this place with the curfew and the curse.  It’s uncanny.  I wish Gwen was here.

Lifting his chin, he grabbed two torches and passed them on to Gwaine and Lancelot.  The two knights had taken out their swords as well.

“We have about one hour to search until it becomes too dark,” said the prince.  “I say we make good use of that time and come back here afterwards.”

Gwaine threw him one skeptical look.

“For a moment there, I thought you were following your gut feeling, not that perfect little crown prince’s head of yours,” said the knight dryly.

Lancelot shook his head in disapproval of Gwaine’s attitude.  “Don’t worry; I’m sure we’ll find him,” he said to the prince, “even if it’s not tonight.  At least we know that he’s here.”

“Of course he’s here,” snorted Gwaine.  “Didn’t I tell you he would be?”   

Arthur’s eyes were already fixed on the road.  It was winding down towards the lake and the dark outline of a castle could be seen beyond the trees.  It wasn’t a huge fortress with only four towers and high walls, but it was well situated close to the lake.  

It was dusk now and if they hurried, they could search a good part of the woods and perhaps even reach the lakeshore before it became too dark.  He had in mind to get to the castle and spend the night there instead of the inn, but he couldn’t let Gwaine and least of all Lancelot know of his real plan.  At this point, an argument would only be a waste of time.

“We will come back here for the horses,” said Lancelot as though he was reading Arthur’s mind.  “We can go on foot and carry torches.  That will give us more time.  Come on.  If Merlin’s party is out as well, they will be carrying lights and we will spot them easily.”

“You mean Lord Merlin,” corrected Gwaine mockingly.

The road led them down a steep hill and into the heart of the forest.  They left the fading light of day behind them as they stepped under the roof of the trees.  The woods were dense on each side of them but the path could be followed easily which was a relief.  The further they were walking and the quieter the forest was.  After of while of going always straight ahead, Arthur began to feel jittery.  Not a bird could be heard, nor the sound of breaking twigs and rustling leaves.  The growing silence was definitely not a good sign.  And from the look on their faces, Lancelot and Gwaine had the same feeling.

“What do you reckon this curse is about?” asked Gwaine in a low voice in an attempt to diffuse the tension.

“Couldn’t you have asked that before we decided to search the forest in the dark?” hissed Lancelot.  “Arthur, we won’t find him tonight.  We’ve walked too far.  We should go back.”

But Arthur’s senses were on alert.  Something was stirring around them.  He knew it even though he didn’t have any proof yet.  He was a good hunter and he knew when he was being hunted.  As he bent low to put his hand on the pine-needles that were covering the path, his fingers found a different texture and it confirmed what he was already thinking.  It was a long string of rough fur.

“We’re not alone,” he murmured to the two knights besides him.

Gwaine sighed in irritation.  “The next time you want to go into a forest that’s cursed, remind me to…”

He did not finish his sentence.  There was movement in the trees in front of them.  Something was moving in the dark, just beyond the glow of their torches.  

Gwaine and Lancelot took up their swords in their free hands.  And as they moved, the presence in front of them made a low growl.

“That can’t be good,” whispered Gwaine.

Arthur’s eyes darted towards the path.  He could see gleaming between the trees.  There was water close by and it was shimmering under the moonlight.  The lake, thought Arthur.

“Run,” he said urgently.  “Run towards the lake.  Run!”

Arthur could run fast in a forest that he knew, but here it was a lot trickier.  As he jumped over a tree trunk, his feet got stuck in a branch and he fell forward on the path.  Lancelot immediately took his arm to pull him up, but the beast had caught up with them.  It leapt over Lancelot and for a moment Arthur could only see a large mouth filled with sharp teeth.  He slashed his sword and heard a small yelp.  Rolling on his back to get in a crouched position, he found himself face to face with an enormous red-eyed wolf.  The animal was panting and growling.

And then, from the corner of his eye Arthur saw Gwaine rush forward, his sword in a perfect attack position.  He sliced once and twice and the creature was forced to take a few steps back.

“Torch!” yelled Gwaine.

Lancelot gave him what he was asking.  Dropping his sword on the ground, Gwaine took the two torches and started to make wide gesture in front of the animal’s eyes.

“Gwaine?” said Lancelot, unsure of what he should do next.  

It was obvious that the beast was bigger than any wolf they had ever seen.  It’s red eyes and the putrid smell that it cast around them was enough to give Arthur shivers.  There was no way around it.  The only solution was to kill it.

Launching himself forward, Arthur swung his sword into a wide circle and thrust its blade into the beast’s side.  The creature recoiled, growled, howled, yelped, writhed, limped, wailed and finally it fell on its side and became quite still.

“What was that?” murmured Lancelot as he took his torch back from the other knight’s hand.

“I’m not waiting around to find out,” replied Gwaine.

Indeed, there was no time to waste.  Arthur could hear the sound of broken branches.  Wolves always hunted in packs.  They would be here in any second.

Arthur nodded to Gwaine and Lancelot, and then he wheeled around, ready to sprint towards the lake.

The last thing he had expected was to bump into a person.  The impact made him fall to the ground on his back like some stupid child tripping over his own feet.  Then there was the distinctive ring of many swords being unsheathed.  Arthur glanced around to see at least five or six blades pointing directly at him.

And in the middle of the circle, starring down at him with a look of shock on his face was the only person in the world who could catch him so thoroughly unawares.

“Arthur?”