Arthurian Time Crisis: Part I - Magician

By Setlu Vairst

Arthurian Time Crisis - Part I - Magician is a story set in the time of King Arthur. It is a time and a place of wonder and magic, of war and death, and of love lost and then found.
There are strange happenings in the land and not all of it be can put down to magic alone. Those who possess great magic know that the powers that they fight are not natural... at least not for this world.
There are numerous bizarre creatures moving in the lands, each with a purpose and each with a grim determination. From the giant Cahaydras to the Water Women who dwell in the lakes, there are many who seek to influence the events of the times and there are many who seek the power to be able to take control of the times and the ultimate destiny of the world.
From King Arthur himself to the lowliest peasants in the lands, there are none who are free of a destiny that is being shaped, almost honed, to become a piercing weapon that will strike out at the very heart of the future of the world.
Flack’s future with Ashley is to be destroyed and a new love may yet be borne from the seeds of the past; from history itself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Setlu Vairst
• Release date: Nov 22, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310575389

Setlu Vairst

Setlu Vairst released the first book from The Occasion Mists series in December 2013. 'Unicorn - Journey Beyond Forever' is the story of a young unicorn's journey to a place where he may be reunited with his parents and where a final battle with the evil humans will take place.There are eight completed works ready to be released in the coming months. Book 2 in the series 'Danny and the Seagull Who Came Back... From The Dead! was released on the 22 December 2013 and the third book will be published in the coming weeks.Born in Hanover, Germany, raised in Glasgow, and currently residing in the North of England, Setlu is currently concentrating on releasing the remainder of the completed works in preparation for returning to the other books from the series. There are currently four other works in progress and others planned.Setlu lives with his wife, youngest son and three dogs, and so the 'writing' environment can be noisy and hectic at times.His current ambition is to have a 'room' off the beaten track where he has space to leave notes about the stories safely scattered around and does not have to go hunting for where he 'thinks' he last left his notes.http://www.setluvairst.com

Book preview

Feeling life ebbing away from me, I struggle with all of my might to remain conscious, trying to find a way of escaping the power that holds me and which is killing me slowly and inevitably. Lightning bolts of pain are crackling as they come shooting from the alien’s hand and I wish I could scream out in an agony of release but I cannot.

Soon, your life-force will disintegrate and be spread into the poisonous air of your little world. Soon, you will be set free, laughed the alien voice.

With the pain continuing to pulverize me, I can do nothing but suffer the agonies and torments and then, after a time when I could see the lights hitting my body, striking me, burning me, I began to see strange colours around the room and I knew then that I was losing the ability to concentrate. I could feel something pulling me towards it and I fought back, not wanting to be taken there. If death was coming to claim me then I would fight back with all of my might. ‘I don’t want to die!’ I screamed inside my dying skull.

Slowly, the light began to vanish and the pain began to recede… I was drifting away, I wanted to stay but I could not. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry…’

Darkness came swooping in upon me. For a length of time of which I could not determine, I was nowhere, feeling as though I did not exist anymore and yet, within me, a spark of light in my consciousness continued telling me, ‘It is only darkness. It is not nothingness.’

Greyness began to seep into my darkness, a blank screen of no details began to swim across my vision and I realised that I was actually seeing something tangible. ‘I am alive!’ I exclaimed to myself, feeling immense joy and immediately beginning to wonder about how I could deal with the alien who was trying to destroy me. The greyness began to take on form and I could see a mist swirling in front on me. ‘Where is this mist coming from? There was nothing in the room that was ablaze.’ Fearful for Wendy’s life, I wondered how long I had been unconscious for. ‘Had the alien set fire to the building to cover up his evidence as he said he would?’

I try to move forward, to break through the mist, but I am held as if by an invisible hand. Even my chest does not seem to breathe for me. ‘What good am I as a statue with only eyes?’

Then, through this grey mist, I see something moving, a dark shape beyond the mist, and I am fearful that it is something new coming to harm me and then, for just a moment, I see a face that I recognise.

‘Ashley!’ I try to call out through lips that are immobile.

I can see that she is speaking but I cannot hear her, though I think I see her call my name. ‘Can she see me? Where am I?’

Suddenly, the mist begins to pour away from me and then it is just as suddenly halted as another dark shape races into view in front of me, sending Ashley reeling to the side. I try to move but I cannot and then, as I realise that the other shape is that of a unicorn, I know that it is my mother.

Searing pain shoots through me, I see red and blue streaks of light seeming to erupt from the lower section of my body and then a huge bolt seems to come from my head itself and I feel it pulling me, unresistingly, with it. I try to stay, but I cannot. Something is taking me, taking me away from my Ashley, and something deep in my heart tells me that I will never see her again.

‘Nooooooo...’ I scream in my mind as I feel my body being ripped apart, almost as if every atom and molecule is being distributed throughout the bolt of energy that leap from my head.

‘Is this more of the work of the alien that attacked me or have I really seen Ashley?’

Then, from nothingness, I feel extreme coldness around me and as I realise that I am falling. I turn in the darkness, seeing the twinkling of night stars above me.

‘What is happening?’ I ask the emptiness in my head as I continue to fall. Realising that my reactions are slow, I try to understand what is happening just as I see something in the air beside me.

‘It is a sword from olden times,’ I tell myself, just as a huge flash of blue light erupts in the air above me and then I suddenly see the sight of a huge dragon emerging into the night sky. Disorientated, I see that the dragon looks toward me as it plummets downwards, bringing its huge and powerful wings into play, fighting desperately to keep itself balanced within the turbulent air. The dragon begins moving upwards as I continue falling and then, twisting my frame, I catch a glimpse of the falling sword beside me just before my eyes catch sight of dark tree tops below me. Awakening to a new danger, I ignore what is happening to me and try to concentrate on avoiding a sudden collision with the ground.

‘What can I do?’ I scream at myself, recalling instantly that I have powers that can save me. I do not know where the dragon has gone but now the looming ground is taking up all of my attention and so, in desperation, I stretch out my arms, pointing them toward the ground, and command powers within me to stop my fall.

I know confusion is affecting me but still I command powers to help me and then, from an eruption of white light, I see a pulsating blue light leap forth from my fingertips, powering down through the canopy of trees below, and I know I am trying to make the beam force me into slowing down my plummeting fall but, in horror, I realise that I am too late. Branches and leaves are ripping against me, I crash into a large branch and then continue my descent. My flailing arms try to grab a hold of something to arrest my fall but everything is ripped easily from my grasp. I recall Megan. ‘She too had been killed by the Strange Invaders. Is that what is happening to me? Megan? Are you here, Megan? Can you hear me, Megan?’

Suddenly, the leaves are gone and there is a pin-prick of silence that seems to last an eternity before I spy a large rock upon the ground below me. Closing my eyes, I know I am too late to stop my fateful plunge and darkness rushes in upon me as my head glances upon the rock and my downward flight comes to an immediate halt. I am sure I hear the wind knocked from my lungs the instant before I black out.

***

With two hands gripping tightly around the handle of his sword, he forces upwards with the sword, blocking a sweeping blow that sent tremors crashing through his arms. Roaring loudly and mustering his strength, he lashes out with his foot, causing his assailant to stumble backwards and then, with a deftness more born of animal than man, he leaps to his feet, racing toward the knight ahead of him.

The enemy knight sweeps his sword up from the ground, carving an arc in the air, readying himself to defend his flesh from the attack of any other sword and then, stopping as if ‘frozen still’ for the merest fraction of time, the knight realised that the sword of the one called ‘Arthur’ has finally and totally beaten his defences.

Looking down at the shining sword protruding from his chest, the knight stood immobile, simply watching Arthur haul the sword’s tip back into daylight whilst feeling a sharp pain receding to a burning heat as his knees buckled and he fell forward. Kneeling before the one called Arthur, who was already in the process of turning away and moving off to do battle with another, the knight’s eyes began closing as his body toppled forward into the mud; another victim of battle, another human now deceased.

With the clamouring and shouting continuing to echo across the fields, Arthur could tell that there was still fight left within those who were still able to wrestle with their tiredness and minor wounds though, noting the hint of dusk that had began creeping into the sky, he knew that the battle needed to be ended quickly. Letting rip with a mighty battle cry, he went charging toward the shape of one of the enemy soldiers standing nearby whom, upon hearing the battle cry, began turning around and looking at the fast approaching figure of Arthur.

Turning to their left, the enemy lowered his sword and began to run off across the field, his legs leaping over and around the bodies of the fallen, even allowing his sword to fall into the mud and flesh that he raced through in order to increase the speed by which he departed.

Trying to come to a halt, Arthur dug his feet hard into the ground but the wetness of the soil caused him to slide and then, with one leg twisting awkwardly, Arthur fell to the floor, a meal of mud and grass entering his mouth as his face hit the slushy earth.

My liege, a familiar voice came from behind him and then, quickly rolling over onto his back, Arthur began to spit the mud and grass from his mouth whilst stretching out one arm to engage the grip of the hand that was being offered to him.

Ah ha, declared Arthur, using the outstretched arm to pull himself to his feet, I think that the enemy has had enough this day, and then, standing, he shouted out to all that could hear him. Do not let them flee like women! Instead, take them down like the dog’s they are!

His words had an immediate affect and those of the enemy who were within earshot began to panic, believing that their fight was lost. Stooping low and racing across the body-filled field, a number of the enemy ran, some dropping their swords in order to better manoeuvre their shields for protection.

An eerie clanking sound came upon the field and Arthur commented, There, they run with their tails between their legs. Then, shouting, Go on, run you cowardly scum. Run to your homes and tell your clans that Arthur defeated you this day! And Arthur will defeat you every day!

Should we give chase, asked the knight standing before Arthur.

No, there is no need, replied Arthur, surveying the field and noting that there were fewer men standing still than there were those that were running. We have indeed taken a beating this day, said Arthur, regretfully, and then adding, It is good that they turned to run. We must find those that may live and take them home. Maybe the witch can save some of them.

They run because of your words, Arthur, said the knight, lifting a blood-covered visor and allowing Arthur to see the deep, dark eyes looking back at him.

Yes, my words helped speed them on their way but if only one had the sense to reorganise and come back then they would find only a few battle weary men able to take them on. We would be lost.

Yes, they run and though we have lost many this day we have come out as the victors, replied the knight, plunging his bloodied sword into his sheath.

Wearily, Arthur said, Round up the men that can walk and get the injured onto the carts and prepare to take them back to camp.

Sire, acknowledged the knight, turning slowly and beginning to call to those around him that were still standing.

Slumping to the bloodied and wet earth, Arthur sat with his sword stabbing the ground between his knees, his hands wresting upon the hilt of his weapon.

‘The enemy numbers are great and it is only a matter of time before they unite and organise themselves properly,’ thought Arthur, forcing his sword deeper into the ground. ‘And when they do…’

With darkness descending, he knew that the enemy would not return this day and so allowed his battle-weary body to lie back, ignoring the leg that he wrested upon, not caring if it was one of his own men’s legs or one of the enemies. ‘It may not even be attached to the body,’ thought Arthur, not even bothering to turn his head and see.

Staring into the sky overhead, he listened to the sounds of his men gathering the wounded and taking them to the carts, readying them for the journey back to their camp.

Darkness fell quickly as did the temperature and, concentrating on stopping his body from feeling the cold, Arthur’s plans for the next time they fought were only interrupted by a deep, growing voice overhead.

We are ready to leave, Sire, said the voice.

Aye, well, get the men back to camp and get them rested and tended, he told the knight.

Are you coming with us, the knight asked.

Soon, soon, replied Arthur. I wish to think a while.

Do you want men to stay with you?

No, take them all back to camp. I will lay here a while. If any enemy does return they will only think that I am one of the dead. I will be easily able to outrun them if I have reason to.

Sire, said the knight, turning away and shouting out orders to those who were to drive the carts.

Watching the bobbing torches that hung on the wagons, Arthur stared at his men as they began moving slowly out of sight, taking their noise of clanking metal with them.

‘Peace at last,’ thought Arthur, as the sounds of his men vanished completely and he could only hear the blowing of the wind that ran around the fallen on the field. Rest in peace and in heaven, lads, said Arthur quietly. You have earned your rest this day.

The light from the wagons was soon lost amidst the trees that bordered the field that Arthur was facing and then, sitting up, he looked around the field, making sure that none of the injured enemy had any intentions that involved them sneaking up on him from behind. Something caught his eye and then, looking up above the forested area, he saw a swirling mist of light seeming to push out from a singular point. Mesmerised, Arthur stared, thinking, ‘What manner of wizardry is this?’

Standing quickly, he kept his sword unsheathed, thinking, ‘Your work for the day does not appear to be done.’

Realising that he had cowered back a little at the sight of this strange vision, Arthur shrugged his shoulders, forcing himself to stand straight and then began walking towards the edge of the forest. ‘The trees will afford me more cover than this open field,’ he thought to himself and then, as he began to run across the field, ignoring whatever it was that squelched beneath his feet, he thought, ‘Is it something come to take away the souls of the dead?’

With his fear unsettling him a little, he increased his speed, reaching the edge of the forest at a fast pace. So much so that his face was whipped by branches hidden in the night as he came to a halt, cursing the darkness. Estimating that the strange light and mist were not too far ahead of him, he began to creep through the forest, cringing every time a foot fell and broke a hidden twig. With two hands clasping his sword which was raised high in front of him, helping to push back the branches that he must pass through, Arthur believed he was as prepared as he could be for whatever was happening in the night sky above him. A strange glow now began to filter down through the high branches and he knew that he was approaching close to the area where the light and mist played in the sky overhead. Continuing to slowly advance, he saw an area ahead of him that glowed brightly, immediately realising that he was approaching a clearing. He continued advancing until he got to the edge of the clearing, his eyes staring in disbelief at the strange light that made the grass and the large boulder in the clearing seem to turn blue themselves.

Noticing that his hands were shaking whilst holding his sword, Arthur lowered his weapon so that the tip rested upon the ground but he kept both hands tightly upon it, ready to raise it in defence if the need should arise. ‘If there are witches here I swear I will gut them before they can cast one line of a spell upon me!’

Leaning forward and turning his face upward, he saw that the strange mist was disappearing in large snake-like wisps and then, thinking that whatever it was had now departed, he jumped when there came a flash of light that sent forks of lightning streaking silently through the sky. However, unlike normal lightning, the light did not suddenly cease and instead there came a large glowing ball in the sky and then, as Arthur stared open-mouthed, he was shocked when he suddenly saw the body of a naked man appear in the sky, seeming to float there as if the air was his bed.

This is indeed strange and powerful magic, he whispered low.

The floating body was high, almost overhead, and there was something else off to the right of it that seemed to shine and reflect light, though Arthur could not determine what it was. Wanting to retreat, but fearing that he needed to be a witness to whatever this strange phenomenon was, Arthur held his ground. The body begin to descend, slowly at first and then, as if released by some giant invisible hand, the body began to plummet downwards. Another flash occurred in the sky and there now appeared a huge and terrifying sight.

A dragon! Arthur gasped, leaning backwards into the tree line lest he be seen.

Watching, Arthur saw the human body continue to fall, the dragon fighting to fly and then to begin chasing the falling body. Instinctively, Arthur rose and ran forward with his sword wielded high. Screaming a battle cry, he was determined to confront the dragon. He had heard tales of such creatures and now, here at last, was his chance to destroy one. His mind said to him, ‘If I can slay such a beast then many more clans will join with me. I will have an invincible army!’

Yahhhhh, he screamed, racing into the clearing, his sword held up towards the dragon as he began racing towards a large boulder to his right with the intention of using it as protection when the dragon attacked. However, upon reaching the boulder, Arthur was disappointed when the dragon gave out a large cry and then began to bank away to left, seeming to be fleeing the area.

Almost above him, there came the sight of two blue beams of light, extending from the falling figure towards the ground and then, suddenly, there was a crashing through the branches at the edge of the clearing and the body that he had seen falling came crashing to the ground, landing with a solid thump and then remaining completely still.

A whistling sound caught his attention and then, looking upward, he involuntarily leapt backward as something fell from the sky and crashed into the boulder that he stood beside. In a shocked silence, Arthur saw the huge handle of a sword protruding from the rock before him. Looking upward again, he saw that there was no longer any sign of the dragon in the sky, nor any sound of the beast’s strange wing beats.

It is gone, he said aloud, noting the disappointment delivered with his own voice. ‘Methinks I wanted that battle more than I realised!’

A groan, ahead of him and a little to his right, reminded him of the one who had fallen from the sky. Walking cautiously towards the naked body that lay sprawled upon the ground, Arthur held his sword ready to attack or defend, whichever he had need to have to do.

It is just a man, whispered Arthur to himself, And, judging by the blood on his head, he has caught a blow upon that rock lying there as he struck the ground.

The sound of Arthur’s voice caused the naked figure to stir a little and, after weighing up his options, Arthur decided, ‘If he has strange powers at his command then I want him to be my ally.’

A sound came from the figure lying prone upon his back in front of him. Cautiously moving forward, Arthur tried to listen to the mumblings from the stranger upon the ground.

Megan, mumbled the figure.

What you say? whispered Arthur, not familiar with the strange dialect.

Megan, whispered the man.

Myrddin? Arthur asked, using the only word he knew that sounded similar to the word of the stranger.

Megan, repeated the figure.

Myrddin, repeated Arthur, finding no other word that he knew that was close to the sound that the figure made.

Myrddin, the figure repeated and then said it again, as if hearing it for the first time, Myrddin.

Slowly, the eyes of the man on the ground opened, making Arthur flinch, causing him to move back warily. Watching the figure roll over onto his stomach and beginning to rub the wound on his head, Arthur said, Will you live?

As if aware of Arthur for the first time, the man looked up at Arthur standing above him, holding his sword in the air.

I am… not… here to fight you, said the figure.

By what are you called? Arthur demanded of the man.

Staring blankly at the figure ahead of him, the man on the ground pulled his hand away from his head and looked at the dark, wet mass of blood that stained his hand. Sounding lost, the man upon the ground said, I do not know! I… cannot remember.

You used the name Myrddin when first you spoke, said Arthur, slowly lowering his sword as he felt no real threat from the figure lying at the edge of the clearing.

Myrddin? repeated the man, using his hands to push his weight up from the ground as he brought up his legs and moved into a kneeling position.

Watching the figure rubbing at his head wound, Arthur said, You can move and talk all right, so the wound cannot be too serious.

Looking up at Arthur, the figure nodded and began to attempt to climb to his feet. Seeing his unsteady movements, Arthur lowered his sword and offered the one that he called Myrddin his hand. Myrddin clasped the hand and pulled himself upright and then, standing there, he rubbed his arms, acknowledging the cold in the air.

Come, this way, beckoned Arthur, I can find you some clothes back on the field. There are some there who will not need them this night.

Looking dazed, Myrddin looked at Arthur and then nodded slowly.

Taking Myrddin by the upper arm, Arthur began gently but firmly pulling the man into the forest, heading back towards the battlefield where he would be able to secure some cloth from one of the dead.

Myrddin stumbled on a few occasions as they moved through the trees and Arthur had to use all of his strength to keep the man upright as he only had one free arm to support the injured man. ‘My other arm holds my sword,’ he thought, ‘and I am ready should that dragon try to return.’

Knowing that Myrddin must possess great powers, Arthur was going to ensure that he befriended the man. ‘I do not know what magic or wizardry he possesses but if I can command him then I will have a weapon that will strike fear into all of my enemies. There will be none to stand in the way of my army.’

The light in the sky had all but vanished now and the woods were dark and silent, except for the occasional hoot of an owl as it went about its business of hunting and feeding.

Reaching the battlefield, Arthur commanded Myrddin to remain standing while he went in search of clothing to warm him. The first bodies that Arthur came across were so bloody and wet that their clothes were of no use to him. Moving to the left to continue to search and, making sure that he did not move too far away from the stranger, Arthur eventually found a large wrap that was fluttering upon the ground. It was made of thick material and too heavy for the wind to carry it away. Picking up the cloth, Arthur could only see that it was dark in colour and that it had the crescent shape of the moon upon it.

‘Well, the enemy’s witchcraft and wizard failed them this day,’ he thought wryly, as he turned and began walking back towards Myrddin.

Here, Myrddin, he said, throwing the wrap upon the shoulders of Myrddin, adding, This will keep you warm until we can return to my camp.

Nodding, Myrddin began walking forward and, once again, Arthur grabbed his upper arm and began to lead him along the side of the tree line, heading for the dirt track that his carts and men had taken earlier.

Moving onto the winding track, Arthur had only walked along its distance for a small time when he glimpsed a light ahead, partially hidden by trees that were on a bend in the track. Glancing upward, Arthur was relieved to see no further strange activity in the sky, though he allowed his eyes to stare long and hard into the darkness, looking for a dark shape that may obscure the sight of a number of stars.

Satisfied, he said aloud, At least the dragon seems to have fled for the night.

Dragon? repeated Myrddin.

Do not worry, my friend, the beast is long gone and I doubt that we will see sight of it again this night. Concentrating on the light ahead of him, Arthur heard the faint talking of voices that he felt he recognised.

Thomas? he shouted, Is that you?

The voices became silent and then, moving from the light behind the trees and out onto the dirt track, Arthur saw the familiar outline of the person whose voice he had recognised.

Is that you, Sire? shouted Thomas, waving a torch in the air.

I thought you would be back at camp by now, Arthur shouted, increasing his pace and half pulling Myrddin along behind him.

A wheel split, Sire. We have only just finished mending it.

Then it is good that I caught you before you set off, shouted Arthur. I have another body for your cart. Make some room for me.

Aye, Sire, shouted Thomas, immediately running back to the other torches and beginning to do as Arthur had instructed.

Maintaining his pace, Arthur pulled Myrddin along the track and around the small bend, whereupon they could see the cart ahead of them. There were moans and groans coming from the back of the cart as Thomas and his companion moved those already there to make room for another.

Help him up, said Arthur, pushing Myrddin forward, adding, And look after him. I think he will be very important to us soon.

Thomas stood looking at Myrddin for a moment and then crouched down, offering a hand that Myrddin grabbed and then pulled him up onto the back of the cart. Pointing, Thomas then told Myrddin where he could lie down.

Arthur watched Myrddin slump to the floor, lying on his back, and he called to Thomas, saying, If there is any straw there then place it beneath his head. He has taken a blow there and still it bleeds.

Aye, Sire, replied Thomas, as Arthur walked along the side of the cart, moving up to the one horse that pulled the cart.

‘I wonder what my new friend will be able to do for me? I know that he has powers and I have to assume that he was fighting the dragon in the sky when I first saw him. I chased the dragon away and so my new friend should be somewhat in my debt. I have no doubt that the dragon would have come for him if it had not seen me waving my sword.’ Slapping a hand upon the handle of his sheathed sword, Arthur recalled the large sword that he had seen falling from the sky before it had embedded itself into the boulder in the clearing.

‘I should have taken it with me,’ he thought, kicking at the dirt ground before him. ‘I will go back early in the morrow. No one will be wandering the forests this night as all the wounded will be getting tended to and preparations will be being made for the burials that will take place at morrow’s dusk.’

Slapping the neck of the horse beside him, Arthur said, I bet you would like some straw this night too, my beauty, eh?

Are you climbing up, Sire, Thomas asked.

Turning, Arthur saw Thomas settling himself, preparing to drive the cart forward.

No, Thomas, he replied, I will walk along beside you. I have much to think about and, besides, that is a smelly crowd you are carrying.

Laughing, Thomas said, Yes, Sire, that they are.

***

My head hurts and I feel a darkness within me. I struggle to recall where I am and how I got here, but I cannot. A name comes into my mind, ‘Megan.’ I repeat it over and over in my head, wondering who or what it is. I hear a groan coming from my lips and know that it is because of a searing pain in my head. I can think of nothing except the word Megan. It seems important to me and something tells me that Megan is somehow linked to me; there is something in common that we share. ‘But what is it? Is it a place, a person…?’

I hear a voice, but the dialect is strange to me and I feel the pain in my head once again. I cannot suppress another groan of agony. I wonder if the voice belongs to Megan.

Megan, I try to say, though my voice sounds weak in my ears.

What you say? whispers a harsh voice near me.

Megan, I repeat.

Myrddin? the voice says and, though it sounds similar, I feel it is not right.

Megan, I repeat.

Myrddin, repeats the voice.

Myrddin, I say back, thinking that perhaps I am saying it wrong and the other knows the true sound of the word. I repeat the word, Myrddin.

Slowly, opening my eyes, my vision tries to focus on the grass in front of me and I catch sight of a figure moving a little away from me. Rolling onto my back, I feel the cold air around me and then, raising my hand, I touch my hand upon the painful place on my head.

Will you live? asks the voice.

Raising my eyes, I see a figure of a man, his posture is of someone who is wary and he looks as though he knows how to wield the sword that he clutches.

I am… not… here to fight you, I say as loudly and honestly as I can.

By what are you called? questions the figure.

I am about to answer, but halt when I find that no name comes forth into my mind. I concentrate hard but the knowledge eludes me. I feel it is something I should know but I do not. Pulling my hand away from my head I find that it is covered in blood and I know that it is my own blood.

I do not know! I… cannot remember, I reply to the figure.

You used the name Myrddin when first you spoke, said the voice and I was grateful to note that he began slowly lowering his sword and I could see that he was relaxing a little because he could perceive no immediate threat from me.

Myrddin? I repeated, rolling over slowly onto my stomach and using my hands to push my weight up from the ground as I brought up my legs so that I could get into a kneeling position. I am conscious that I am naked, that I am cold, and that I feel weak. As I begin rubbing my head-wound carefully, the figure says to me, You can move and talk all right, so the wound cannot be too serious.

I nod towards the figure as I begin climbing to my feet. My attempt is clumsy to say the least and I am only saved from falling over by the outstretched hand offered by the stranger. Clasping the hand gratefully, I pull myself upright and then, standing there, I rub my arms vigorously as the cold begins to eat into me.

Come, this way, said the voice, I can find you some clothes back on the field. There are some there who will not need them this night.

I did not know what he meant and then I realised that I did not even know who he was. ‘Should I ask him or might that offend him if it is a friend of mine,’ I ask myself. Looking back at him, I nod my acceptance of his offer.

Taking me by the upper arm, he began gently but firmly pulling me deeper into the forest. I did not know where we were going but I had no choice but to accept the assistance that I was forcefully offered. I almost stumbled and fell on a number of occasions as we moved through the dark trees and I knew that the one who guided me had to struggle a few times to keep me upright. I could see him searching the woods with his eyes and I wondered what he was wary of.

Eventually, we left the forest and stood in an open area. My ‘friend’ commanded that I should wait where I stood as he went off into the dark night, moving through the dark silhouettes of bodies that lay upon the ground before me. I shivered with cold and tried to recall who I was and what this place was. From the dark field I could only smell death and I wondered if perhaps I was a soldier in an army and had been injured? It seemed a logical conclusion. ‘Perhaps I have suffered a blow to the head and I am in need of more urgent attention,’ I suggested to myself. I felt as though I should be able to help myself more but nothing came into my mind to tell me how to do this.

With a bitter wind blowing across me, distracting my thoughts, I continued to rub my arms, trying to generate heat with friction. It seemed to be a long, long time before my friend returned and placed a slightly damp garment around my shoulders. The fact that it stopped the breeze from hitting me directly brought me much comfort and I quickly gathered it tightly around my neck, feeling my shivering beginning to subside a little.

As my companion pulled me along by the side of the trees, I tried to understand my predicament but found that no matter what I thought about, because I had so much missing from my memory, I was not able to make any decisions about what I should try to do. My mind was cloudy and slow, seeming to be working against me for every time I tried to dig into my past, seeking any scrap of knowledge that could help me, I only saw a swirling fog that held mysterious shapes that would never fully be revealed to me. I asked myself over and over, ‘What is my name? What is my name?’ but received nothing in reply, only a silence and a woolly, grey blanket that seemed to be spread across a jumble of thoughts, hiding their shapes, their substance, their meaning.

The long grass that I walked through was wet and I began to consider that it may also be blood because it seems that I have I have been in some sort of a battle. My companion was obviously on the same side as me because he is trying to help me. ‘If it were soldier of the enemy then would he not either tie me up and capture me or even kill me?’ I reasoned to myself.

Soon, the ground changed and the wet grass was gone. The ground was more solid underfoot and I could see by the moonlight that we were walking along a dirt track that wound itself between high trees that flanked our path.

After a short time, the one who guided me seemed to be distracted by something ahead and so, following where he was looking, I could see a flickering light amongst the trees. For a moment I was nervous. ‘Could this be our enemy? If they should descend upon us now, then how am I to fight?’ I tried to recall what weapon I would use, had used in the past, but nothing came to me. ‘I would be a lamb to the slaughter,’ I thought, as I realised that I would barely be able to walk away from an enemy never mind being able to run and hide.

My friend began to look into the sky and, as I looked up also, I felt as though he was looking for something that would be in the air above him. ‘What is he searching for?’ I thought to myself.

After a few moments, my friend said, At least the dragon seems to have fled for the night.

Dragon? I repeated.

Do not worry. The beast is long gone and I doubt that we will see sight of it again this night, replied the one who stood beside me, gripping my arm to steady me. Slowly, through the darkness and trees, I became aware of the sound of voices and was startled when my companion suddenly called out loud into the night.

Thomas? he shouted, Is that you?

The voices became silent and then, moving from the light behind the trees and out onto the dirt track, I saw the figure of a large man.

Is that you, Sire? shouted the figure, waving a torch in the air.

I thought you would be back at camp by now, my friend shouted in reply, moving forward once again, increasing his pace and half pulling me along behind him.

A wheel split, Sire. We have only just finished mending it, shouted the voice of the one called Thomas.

Then it is good that I caught you before you set off, shouted my friend. I have another body for your cart. Make some room for him.

Aye, Sire, shouted Thomas, immediately running back to the other torches and beginning to do as my friend had instructed.

Maintaining our quick pace, I was pulled along the track and then around a bend where I could see the cart ahead of us. There were moans and groans coming from the back of the cart as the one called Thomas and his companion moved those already there to make room for another.

Help him up, said my friend, pushing me forward a little roughly, adding, And look after him. I think he will be very important to us soon.

Thomas stood looking at me for a moment and then, crouching down, offering a hand that I immediately grabbed, he was quickly hauling me up onto the back of the cart. Pointing, Thomas then showed me where I could lie down. As I slumped to the hard floor, turning onto my back, I saw the one that Thomas called Sire watching me for a moment before calling out to Thomas.

If there is any straw there then place it beneath his head. He has taken a blow there and still it bleeds, my friend commanded of Thomas.

Aye, Sire, replied Thomas, as I watched my friend walk away, moving up the side of the cart towards the front.

For a moment, I pictured the cart that I was in and knew that it was pulled along by a beast of some type and my mind tried to show me such a creature.

A unicorn, I mumbled, feeling that I knew of such a beast but knowing that, somehow, it was not right that it should be one of these creatures that would pull the cart. My mind showed me pictures of large, stocky animals that were similar to unicorns and of other animals whose name I could not recall.

I discarded those thoughts and tried, once again, to recall my name. If I could recall that one thing, and know it to be true, then I believe that I will recall other knowledge that is important to me.

A sweat and stench came from me and then, for the first time, I became aware of the groans and breathing around me. ‘I am wounded in some fashion,’ I thought, ‘and so I have been placed with more of the wounded from the battle of this day.’

My mind raced with pictures that I tried to create, trying to imagine me fighting this day. I tried to see a sword in my hands but I could not. I tried to recall a figure striking my head, knocking me down, but I could not. I tried to reason how I could be naked in such a cold place but, again, I could not.

Pulling my garment around me, freeing it from being trapped behind my back, I pulled it up over my head, ignoring the cold in my legs and feet, and I stared into the blackness that the garment provided for me. ‘It is no different than looking into my mind,’ I thought.

The cart suddenly lurched forward and there, within my darkened cocoon, I felt the bumpy ride begin and, as I wondered where I was going, I felt myself slip into a sleep. I could not stop myself and I did not try to resist, I simply allowed my thoughts to cease and the gentle sleep to take me in its arms. ‘I feel I will be comfortable there,’ I thought, as I invited the sleep into my mind.

I floated somewhere for a time that I could not measure, though I felt as though I were awake and watching myself sleep for the duration of my slumber. In the end, my time of rest had to be aborted because of an insistent and loud voice that seemed to be calling too loudly, disturbing me. As my sleep drifted from me, I lay with my eyes closed and listened to the sounds around me. A flickering behind my eyelids told me that there was a fire burning nearby before I smelt the smoke itself.

…and you say word has come back that the Saxon dogs have continued retreating, roared a voice.

Yes, Arthur, we sent men out searching for them to be certain that they were not preparing for another attack as you commanded, but all that was found were empty camps and smouldering fires. The Saxon’s have completely left the area. It is our belief that they are marching for the coast and will be boarding their ships in the days to come, replied a voice.

Recognising the first voice that I head as that of the one who had assisted me the previous night, I felt relieved to know that his name was Arthur. I had hopes that as I received more information then I would be able to reclaim the missing fragments from my memories. The name Arthur was not familiar to me, though I felt it to be a name that I had heard before. I do not know where I know the name from but I also realised, ‘I not only recognise the name Arthur, but I also recognise the term of Saxon.’

I lay there, unmoving, not wishing to be drawn into a conversation that I was ill-prepared for. I pretended to continue to sleep, though my head still hurt and I wanted to rub it, feel the damage, and know that the bleeding had stopped.

‘Saxons,’ I said to myself, saying the word loudly in my mind and having my mind instantly filled with pictures of an invading people. ‘They travel from Germany and plunder the English,’ I thought, adding, ‘As did the Danes.’

Hah, those illiterate pagans will no doubt be heading for their ships, my friend, or they will be returning to captured villages and continuing to try to live off the fruits of our land. Those dogs should be burnt from our island and then every one of them be fed to the fishes in local duck ponds! roared Arthur, beginning to laugh out loud.

Yes, Sire, agreed the other who was in the room.

‘Room?’ I questioned myself, beginning to wonder where it was exactly that I lay. Knowing that I would need to find out more, I had no choice but to let those nearby know that I was awakening. Forcing myself to cough, I raised an arm towards my face and then towards the pain in my head.

My friend awakens, I hear the voice of the one called Arthur say, quickly followed with, Leave us alone now, I have much to discuss with my friend.

Yes, Sire, replied a voice and, as I opened my eyes, a flash of daylight lit up the dim interior around me as a flap was pulled back, allowing the other male figure to leave.

I knew that I was in a tent of some design; the ground was rough upon my back, though I could feel a layer of something - possibly straw or straw and a garment - which I lay upon.

How is your head, my friend Myrddin asked Arthur.

Turning my gaze from the small fire that smouldered nearby, I could feel the smoke beginning to irritate my lungs and I began to cough.

Aye, the air is not so good in here but it was a viciously cold night last night and I had to have it burn so that I could keep you warm, said Arthur. I have had a wench wafting the smoke out of the flap for most of the night to better allow you to rest.

Thank you, I said, sitting up slowly, rubbing my head once again and, panicking when I felt the wetness, I was instantly relieved when I looked at my hand and saw no blood.

"I had a witch make a poultice to apply to your wound. The bleeding stopped in the night and the wench who tended the fire bathed your wound throughout the night.

Again, I must thank you, I responded.

No need, no need, Myrddin, after all we are friends are we not? said Arthur.

Sensing that there was more emphasis on the word ‘not’ at the end of the sentence, I felt I would have to be careful with my reply. ‘Might I be a soldier from the Saxon army that Arthur has captured and he is now offering me the chance to join with his people or is he simply unsure of my standing with him?’ I now realised that the other who had been in the tent when I first awakened had spoken with respect, addressing Arthur as Sire. Obviously, Arthur was someone of great importance amongst the people I was with. I had no other friends that I knew of for my memory had been robbed and so I knew that I would need to have someone as a good friend until I could find out more about myself and my past. Suddenly, Arthur spoke again, sounding impatient.

We are friends, are we not? he asked again.

Reacting quickly, I rubbed my head, using my wound as the reason for the delay in my response. Yes, I am your friend, Arthur. I am sorry that I seemed to take a moment to respond but my head still pains me.

Smiling at me, Arthur replied, Good, good. You did receive quite a knock to your head and it was quite a distance that you fell… Arthur stopped, almost as if he realised that he was telling me too much.

‘What would he be hiding from me? What is the truth about my arrival in this place without my memory?’

There was a painful silence for a moment and then, before I could ask how I had fallen and from what height, the tent flap was pulled open and a man, wearing medieval body armour, bent awkwardly into the tent, saying, Sire, the group has been assembled as you commanded.

Nodding to the figure, Arthur looked at me and said, There is something that I must tend to, and then, as he stood, he shouted, Wench! Where are you, wench?

Suddenly, the tent flap was pulled open and a slim female form came rushing into the tent, quickly standing tall and straight once beyond the flap. Wearing a loose, grey-blue tunic that had two purple leather bands wrapped around the copious sleeves and a long deep red skirt that brushed the ground, she curtsied before Arthur, before saying, Yes, Sire.

Tend to my friend while I am gone and see that he comes to no harm, Arthur said, nodding toward me as he swept past the female and left the tent.

The girl turned to look at me, immediately dropping onto her knees while her hand went into a wooden bucket from where she extracted a wet, ragged piece of dull grey material and then began to wring it out. Leaning toward me, she placed the cooling and smelly cloth upon my wound, all without uttering a single word. I remained still, allowing her to ease the pains in my head and I began to think more about my predicament. It was obvious that I would need to gather more information so that I better understood where I was and who I was.

Long blonde hair fell over the face of the girl though, for a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of blue eyes staring into mine. Quickly, her eyes lowered and she turned her head, her hair blocking any further view of her face.

Tell me of Arthur, I said.

Stopping her gentle massage on my skull, she seemed shocked that I should ask such a question. Beginning to gently caress my head once again, she began to speak, though her voice was low, almost whispering, and with a strange dialect.

Arthur is the new King of the Britons, she began, And he is tasked to defend this island’s shores from all the invaders that comes across the seas to try and plunder wealth.

She paused, removed the cloth, wet it in the bucket, wrung it out, and then placed it back upon my head.

And? I said, telling her that I wanted more information.

Are you a captured one like me, she whispered.

Captured one? I asked.

Are you from beyond the Isle of Briton?

I could not answer her because I knew nothing of my past. I could be a captured enemy of Arthur’s or I could simply be one of his soldiers or, again, I may have simply been a friend to Arthur before I had had my accident.

You are a captured one? I asked, changing the subject.

Yes, she replied, her voice low and sad.

When were you captured? I asked.

Two or more seasons ago, she said, adding, Though it is hard to be sure, for there seems to have been strange weather in recent times.

I was going to ask her what she meant by the weather but, instead, I said, Where are you from?

I am a Dane, she replied. I was captured when Arthur and his men raided a fishing village where I lived on the east coast of Briton. She sounded angry that she had been attacked and captured.

But if you are Dane, did not your people take the fishing village from those that were already there? I asked, and then said, Ow! as her rubbing upon my head became harsher, causing me pain.

I am sorry, she said, pulling her hand away, her head held bowed as she stared toward her knees. Slowly, she moved her hands together, placing them and the wet cloth tightly against her thighs as she knelt there. I saw the cloth creating a damp patch on the bottom of her tunic and could see that her hands were shaking slightly. Suddenly, the tent flap was pulled apart and Arthur barged into the tent. Seeing the still figure of the girl, he said, Come on wench, look after my friend.

Immediately, her hand with the cloth returned to my head and began to bathe my scalp once again.

Coughing, Arthur said, The smoke is growing thick in here.

Dropping the cloth, the girl stood, moved towards the tent flap and pulled it back, tying it to a rope, and then she took a large piece of dirty cloth and began to shake it near the tent flap causing the smoke to begin to push out into the open air more quickly than it would have done naturally. I felt sorry for her, realising that she must have been doing this all through the night as well as bathing my wounds. I knew that she must be exhausted.

Suddenly, Arthur’s voice intruded upon my thoughts.

How are you feeling now? he asked.

Although I felt better than the previous night, I did not want to rush into anything I was ill-prepared for. I knew I wanted more information on my standing in this community. ‘Am I truly a friend to Arthur or am I a prisoner?’

I feel a little better, Arthur, I said, Though my head hurts a great deal when I move too much.

You just rest a while longer, said Arthur, adding, Bring my guest food when he is desiring of it.

Yes, Sire, replied the girl, continuing to waft the smoke from the tent and then, as most of the smoke had cleared, she dropped the cloth and came back toward me, kneeling in front of me, where she picked up the wet cloth that she had dropped earlier and plunged it back into the bucket.

I have to go away for a little while, said Arthur. There is something that I have to collect and will be taking some of my men with me. There are many men here and the camp is well guarded, so you will be safe. I expect I will return before nightfall.

I nodded and then, with a slight nod of his head, Arthur left the tent, untying the flap as he did, so that the light dimmed around me once again. Outside, I could hear Arthur shouting orders as he moved away and then, for the first time, I became aware of the mumble of many voices in the background.

Where does he go? I asked the female.

I do not know, My Lord, she replied, placing the cloth against my head once again.

What is your name? I asked her.

She remained quiet though her caresses to my wound continued.

Must I call you wench also? I asked.

Sexburg, she said quietly, Though I am not allowed to use my name in the camp because I am a Dane; a captured Dane.

For some reason, the name sounded amusing and it almost brought a picture to my mind, but the picture would not make itself known. I was sure I had almost seen myself making love to someone but their face, and their figure, remained elusive as if they, perhaps, were only an imagining and never a reality. I cursed my memory.

Lifting my hand, I placed a finger under her chin, pushing upwards to indicate that I wished to see her face. Her face rose slowly, but still her long blonde hair hid her from me. I caught a glimpse of her eyes as they looked away from me and so, raising my arm, I pushed my fingers into the hair above her forehead and began to run my hand to the right, exposing a part of her face.

It was obvious that she was extremely pretty and I saw her eyes return a gaze back into mine. For a moment, I forget my head pain and wrestled with a longing. Shaking my head, I tried to clear my thoughts. ‘What am I thinking? Being alone because my memory has deserted me, taking all my loved ones with it - that isy wound as the reason for the delay in my response.word of the stramger if I had any to begin with - has left me desiring a close companionship and intimacy that would only serve to cause me more problems at this time.’

But my resolve was stolen from me in a most dramatic fashion as Sexburg raised her hand and pulled her hair from the other side of her face. I felt my heart leap a bound and, I had to admit, it scared me. Though my memory was gone from me, my heart seemed to be working fully, almost as if it had a mind of its own.

Her lips stormed into my mind and a yearning gripped me intensely. I saw her eyes look into mine, look away and then return my gaze once again. I felt as though I was being put under a spell. ‘Is this the witch that Arthur had spoken about?’ I asked myself as my hands gently went to her face, and then began sliding along her neck and jaw line. I held her there for a moment, my heart falling into the deep blue of her eyes, and then I pushed my face toward her, gently kissing her on the right cheek and then the left and then, as I pulled my face away from her, I suddenly pulled her, unresistingly, toward me, my lips forcefully landing upon hers as hers did on mine. As our heads moved from side to side and our lips continued to press a passion upon the other, I felt a feeling light up my inside, illuminating something that was large and powerful.

My breathing had all but stopped as I felt as though I no longer had need for air because the beautiful flesh before me was all that I needed to survive but suddenly I was pushed away, not harshly, but enough to break our lips apart and then, in a flurry of grey-blue tunic and deep-red skirt, Sexburg stood and raced from the tent. I was left reeling. ‘What have I done wrong? Have I broken some unknown law? Have I placed Sexburg in danger, or myself?’

I tried to think, I tried to work out where I was but still nothing came to me. In anger, I leant to the side and punched the soft earth next to my bedding. Then, I was shocked! My fist had burrowed deeper into the ground