Elam accelerated, running as fast as the slippery path would allow. He had to find Merlin as soon as possible.
Chapter 11
Edward tramped up the dark slope, following Barlow’s lantern as it swung a few paces in front. Well ahead of Barlow, another lantern swayed back and forth in the hands of a short, old man. “Come, come,” the man sang gleefully. “This place of sadness is now a place of joy. I will never fear Bald Top again.”
Barlow picked up his pace on the steepening grade, while Edward stayed close behind, glad his battle-hardened legs had become equal to his captain’s. He grabbed a branch and pulled up to the top of a boulder. “Captain, did the old man say why he was up here that night?”
“Yes.” Barlow stopped and turned around. “He was supposed to meet Goliath at the summit to pay a ransom for his daughter. He didn’t know Devin had already slain him.”
“Ah! I heard about Devin rescuing a maiden. With all the accolades, his head must be more swollen than a pumpkin by now.”
Barlow marched again and gestured for Edward to come alongside. When they were walking abreast, Barlow lowered his voice. “I don’t like Devin, either, but we must admit that his zeal to protect the kingdom is unsurpassed.”
“Perhaps, but this gypsy’s story is too unbelievable to be true, just the mad ravings of a highwayman.”
“Shhh!” Barlow nodded toward the dark figure in front of them. “He’ll hear you.”
“Here we are,” the old man said, dancing on the grassy plain. “Follow me!”
Barlow and Edward ventured out onto the vast summit. “It’s a good thing Goliath is gone,” Barlow said. “Battling him at night would be difficult indeed.” He held the lantern low and began searching through the grass.
“Over here!” the old man cried from about thirty paces away. “Here it is!”
The two knights hurried to the spot. The old man shone the lantern light on a pile of clothes.
Edward picked up a shoulderless dress and held it at arm’s length. “Ugly as a mangy cur’s coat. No wonder it was left here to rot.”
The old man picked up a pair of men’s trousers. “The dragons took the rest. Naked as a rat’s tail, they were, so Merlin gave them clothes. I saw them with my own two eyes.”
Barlow pointed at a splotch of dried mud. “Dragon tracks.” He knelt and set his lantern on the mud, his eyes close to the ground. “At least three different dragons, two females, one male.” He crawled on all fours, then stopped suddenly. “They become human footprints!”
“I told you!” the old man said. “I told you! Merlin transformed them. I saw it with my own eyes. And one of them looked exactly like the king!”
Edward bent down and picked up a saddlebag. “Sir Barlow, what do you make of this?”
Barlow got up and examined the bag. “It’s Merlin’s.” He pointed at a waxy emblem. “See. Here is his signet seal.”
The old man jumped up and down, chortling, “He was here! He was here! I knew it! Merlin performed his black magic right on this spot, just like I said!”
Edward threw the bag to the ground. “You’re starting to annoy me, old gypsy.”
The gypsy pointed at Edward with a long, bony finger. “Because I was right. Say it. I was right. Merlin loves dragons so much, he replaced the king with one. Say it. You know it’s true now.”
Barlow clamped his huge hand over the old man’s mouth. “As much as I hate to admit it, I think we have to believe Devin’s story. Merlin’s love for dragons has apparently driven him mad.”
Edward furrowed his brow and nodded. “So what do we do?”
“What choice do we have?” Barlow replied, shrugging his shoulders. “In order to be true to the king, we have to join Devin in opposing Merlin.”
Edward let a smile break through. “Exposing the fraud and rescuing the true king would be quite a feat, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, but don’t forget,” Barlow said, wagging his finger. “This isn’t about obtaining honor. It’s about loyalty to His Majesty.”
Edward shook his head. “You’re right, as usual. Keep reminding me.”
Barlow released the gypsy. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone else, you will die a traitor’s death. Understood?”
“Oh, yes,” the old man cackled. “Not a word.”
Barlow tromped toward the summit’s edge. “Come then. We have to meet with Sir Devin.”
Edward followed, but the gypsy stayed put. “Aren’t you coming?” Edward asked.
The gypsy pointed toward the other side of the summit. “My family is that way. Mustn’t keep them waiting too long.”
Barlow stopped and raised a finger at him. “Don’t forget. Not a word.”
The old man lifted his lantern in front of his wrinkled, leathery face. “My lips are sealed!”
Barlow and Edward turned and headed down the slope. “So how does one expose a powerful wizard?” Edward asked.
“I have no experience in that area, so we’ll just leave it up to Sir Devin.”
“I’m sure I can get Newman to join us,” Edward said. “Do you have friends you can count on?”
“A few. My nephew Fiske is sure to do whatever I ask.”
A loud flapping sound breezed by them. Barlow whipped out his sword. “What was that?” he asked, raising the blade high.
Edward pointed into the air. “A bat! The biggest I’ve ever seen!”
Keeping his sword in front of him, Barlow marched ahead. “We shouldn’t dawdle in haunted places. Bald Top still holds dark secrets, and we’d best get off its slopes.”
The two men hurried down the hill, staying quiet for the rest of their journey.
Clefspeare, I dub you Jared, son of Arthur.” The king tapped the bowing man’s shoulder lightly with a gleaming sword. “By this decree, I name you my son, though you have already become closer than any of my natural offspring.” He turned and tapped the lady’s shoulder, touching the flowing blonde hair that draped her sparkling white gown. “And you, dear Hartanna, I dub Irene, for your very presence brings peace to my soul. You are now my daughter, a treasured princess, who, I hope, will always find peace within the walls of my palace.”
King Arthur lifted Excalibur from Irene’s shoulder and handed the blade to Merlin who stood with him on the platform. The sword maintained its faint white glow, strong enough to illuminate Merlin’s wrinkled hands, yet it seemed no more than the brightest candle among the dozens that lined the throne room. When Merlin slid the sword into its sheath, the ornate scabbard swallowed the glow.
Arthur picked up a scroll from the table at his side. “For your protection, I have entered your names as Reginald Bannister and Tabitha Silver in the official records as my adopted son and daughter. Hide your identities well, for if your enemies discover them, you will be chased by bloodthirsty hounds for centuries to come. I suggest choosing different surnames for yourselves for the time being, though you may return to Bannister and Silver to protect your inheritance when the time comes.”
Jared lifted his eyes toward the king and slowly stood. “Sire, I humbly accept the gracious bestowal of your good name. May I always bring the name of Arthur honor and a blessed heritage.”
Irene stood at Jared’s side. “I, too, am honored, Your Majesty.” She rubbed her hand across her bare forearm. Her skin seemed to radiate silvery white. “Having shorn my scales, and with them the dignity of a dragoness, I now feel clothed once again with the integrity, nobility, and heritage your deeds have inspired. May I wear this livery well.”
Arthur’s solemn face broke into a proud, fatherly smile. “Well spoken, my friends. I trust that I will be able to live up to my duty and keep you safe in your new skins. Have the other dragons taken the necessary steps to secure their safety?”
Jared glanced at Irene. “The ladies have chosen new names and blended into life in the nearby villages or secluded themselves elsewhere, as you instructed. We do not know, however, what has become of Valcor.”