Only the Thunder Knows_East End Girls (12 page)

“That’s
why it had to remain hidden,” William said, his face visibly drained of color
even in the flickering light of the fire.

“Exactly.
It’s why a brave knight decided it was worth sacrificing his life for, why I’ve
spent my entire life trying to track it down to make sure it would always be
safe, and why a foolish grave robber, who should by all rights be dead with his
idiot friend, shouldn’t have given up the most powerful artifact in history to
an evil sorceress.”

“Sorceress?”
William said. “But I had no idea Da Vine was anything other—”

“Stop
calling her that. It’s just more of her trickery and lies. She’s the Witch of
Lyonesse. She’s been known by a dozen names but her real name is Morgana Le Fay.”

“Hold
on. You’re back to talking rubbish again. The witch you speak of wasn’t real.
Morgana’s just legend, same as King Arthur, and Excalibur, and the Knights of
the Round Table…and…and…”

“And
what?” Black asked, his voice cold and low again.”

“And
the Grail, I was gonna say.” William gulped down a few mouthfuls of air and
thought about everything he’d just learned. “It can’t be true…can it? Christ,
that would make you…
no
!”

“My
name’s not Ambrosious Black. The Welsh and the Irish remember me as Myrdinn,
the bard and prophet, but to the English and the Scotts I’m known as—”

“Merlin
the magician!” William finished his sentence for him and then settled into a
brooding silence. Black just let him be, knowing the simple man would need time
to let it all soak in. Eventually, William raised his eyes and spoke again.
“You’re serious, right? I mean, this is all real? Everything you’ve told me?”

“Every
word, yes.”

“And
you’re the good guy.”

“I’m
no saint…but yes. I serve only two people: The Forever King, and our blessed Lord
on high. I’m charged with protecting the Grail and stopping the witch. She’ll
destroy the world if we don’t get that Grail back.”

“We?
What do you mean…
we
?”

“I
need your help, William. I wouldn’t have told you any of this if I could find
her and do this myself.”

“But
I can’t help you. I’m a bad man…I’ve done terrible things.”

“Aye,
you have…but it looks like God’s about to give you a chance to make up for
everything evil you’ve done. One last chance to do what’s honest and right.”

William
wasn’t convinced there was anything he could ever do to right the wrongs in his
life, but something stirred to life in his dark heart and he knew he couldn’t
refuse the old man. “Okay. I guess I’m your man.”

“Excellent,”
Merlin said. “Here’s what we’re going to do…”

Chapter

18

Calton Cemetery
was still shrouded in fog, but a glimmer of sun was rising in the east and would
hopefully start to burn it away, layer by wispy layer, for another day. A huge
bank of dark clouds hung in the sky threatening a storm, but it was too early
yet to tell. Merlin stood in the cold, early morning mist with his eyes closed
but his mind wide open. He was deep in prayer and meditation, and if anyone had
taken the opportunity to check they’d have found out his respirations were down
to five breaths a minute and his heart rate had been cut in half from the times
it normally beat. It was his way of preparing his body and mind for battle; his
calm before the chaos; his moment of serenity before the coming storm.

Behind
the magician stood the newly erected stone effigy of Robert the Bruce, towering
over the white-haired old man like a frozen giant. The city council had hired
him to build a statue to commemorate the Battle of Bannockburn, but Merlin’s
thoughts drifted further into the past than that, back to an age of blood and
clashing steel that history had somehow forgotten and pushed into myth and
legend. A time when the Forever King still proudly walked the land, surrounded
by brave men in shining armor who were honorable and just. Together, with
Merlin’s help, they had purged Britain of the ruthless heathens and the immoral
nobility who foolishly believed they were above the laws of God. Together
they’d searched for the elusive Holy Grail, determined to find it and keep it
safe forever but it wasn’t to be.

The
witch Morgana was searching for the Grail, too. Even then, when Merlin had
thought she was just a silly woman who had lost her way in the world. She had
doubts about the Lord and her faith had been shaken by the cruel death of her
father, but Merlin had never believed she would give her soul to the devil the
way she so eagerly had. She’d always had the gift of magic in her (as many
people did back in those days), but her powers had grown a thousand-fold after her
soul had willingly been corrupted. She’d raised a small army of devil
worshippers, cutthroats, and mercenaries and launched a hastily planned attack
against the king’s disciplined and far better-trained knights.

The
confrontation was more of a slaughter than an honorable battle, the deep green
grass of the field painted red with the blood of Morgana’s woefully prepared
troops. In the end she accomplished what she’d set out to do that day though,
albeit purely by accident, and it was the darkest day in Merlin’s long life. The
king had ridden out on his warhorse at the end of the fray and while
dismounting to join his men, the horse’s front hooves slipped on the blood
slick grass, its normally sturdy legs sliding out from beneath it. The huge animal
tried to correct itself, but in the process toppled over and landed on its left
side, accidentally crushing the king beneath its massive bulk.

By
the time Merlin made it to the king’s side, the horse had regained its feet but
the damage was already done. The greatest warrior the land had ever known was
dying on the battlefield, his pelvis bones crushed and nearly every rib
shattered from the horse’s tremendous weight. What Merlin remembered most – and
the image that still haunted his nightmares all these years later – was of his
beloved king staring up at him in helpless agony, blood draining out of both of
his eyes….

Merlin
snapped back to reality, a light rain starting to fall from the unsettled sky.
The fog in the cemetery disorienting him for a moment, but when he turned to
see the intricate sculpture he’d recently done for the city he remembered where
– and more importantly –
when
he was. Perched on the Scottish King’s
shoulder was the Snowy Owl, carefully watching its master and patiently awaiting
orders. It didn’t have to wait long. Merlin took two more deep breaths, willing
his breathing and heart rate to return to normal and then addressed his
feathered companion by name.

“Nazza,
my friend. If today doesn’t go our way I want you to get as far away from here
as you can. Understand?”

The
bird of prey swiveled its head to look down at the old wizard, then turned away
again, ignoring him. Merlin grinned despite the gravity of their situation,
unable to help himself. “You’re as stubborn as Lancelot, you are…but not nearly
as pretty. At least go fetch me my staff from where we left it outside of the
city. I have a feeling I’m going to need it soon. Go!”

The
white owl immediately took to the air, heading off into the fog and the rain without
making a sound. “And hurry up about it, too,” Merlin called after it but it was
already lost in the gloom.

“I’m
hurrying as fast as I can, gov,” William’s voice answered back, his footsteps
announcing his arrival before his body materialized out of the fog. “It’s a
long way to run, you know?”

“I
wasn’t talking to you,” Merlin said, but couldn’t be bothered to explain the
situation. “Well…did you deliver the message?”

“Aye,
but it wasn’t easy. Half the town wants to see me hang, remember? I had to peek
in the windows of three different pubs but I eventually found Big Josh, one of
Da Vine’s…I mean Morgana’s fat goons, and waited for him to head for home.”

“And
did you remember what to tell him?”

“I
told him to tell his boss we had a major problem. Said that you’d found another
golden cup here in Calton and you’re claiming that you’ve found the
real
Grail. I told Big Josh to tell her she might have a fake on her hands. Said
she’d better come to the cemetery this morning to straighten this mess out.”

“Perfect.
She’ll come too…I know she will. Even if she knows I’m lying, she’ll come to
try and kill me, once and for all. Come on; let’s get back to the gravesite so
we’re ready for her.”

*  
*   *

Dawn
had arrived but the sun was hidden behind the thick layer of storm clouds
already, leaving the sky an ominous charcoal grey. Thunder rumbled somewhere
off to the west of the city but for now the rain had stopped again. It had
taken William a little over half an hour to re-dig the grave Billy and he had
found the Carpenter’s Cup inside. He’d been drenched with sweat by the time his
shovel scraped the top of the wooden box clean and he’d pried open the lid to
reveal the giant man lying within. It had only been a matter of weeks but the
knight’s skin was turning a sickly shade of yellow-grey and the smell of the
dead Templar was noticeably worse than the last time they’d opened the
makeshift casket. Not a horrible stench yet, but the corpse was obviously
suffering the effects of being separated from the Holy Grail; its protective
magic no longer preventing the flesh from starting to rot.

“He’s
in worse shape than I remember,” William said.

“Aye,
he would be. That’s okay…he’ll do. Put this in with him same as the real one
was sitting.” Merlin handed William a smooth-sided golden chalice that looked
remarkably similar to the one he’d recently handed over to Morgana.

“Wow,
you made this just from my description? It looks real.”

“It’s
only an illusion. See for yourself.”

William
looked back down and was surprised to see an old tarnished metal wine glass in
his hand. Seconds later it changed back into the golden chalice. “That’s
incredible.”

“It’s
child’s play, but it will have to do. Put it back wherever you found it.”

William
laid the false Grail down on the large knight’s chest and maneuvered the
Templar’s hands until they were shielding the cup in the same way they had for
hundreds of years. “There…that’s about as good as we’re going to get.”

William
climbed out of the grave and sat down on the damp grass to catch his breath. Another
rumble of thunder drummed above his head, the storm getting closer. Merlin
walked to the side of the hole, looked down at the dead man, and said a silent
prayer. When he was through, the wizard held his hands out over the cadaver’s
body and began to speak in an ancient language only a few people on earth might
still be able to translate. Merlin knew the words though…and so did the fallen
knight.

“
Sarannha
de nedro ank. Terannha de nedro ank. Monutaris de tartarum arturus feh…hades de
nedro ank!
”

The
wizard spoke in this strange forgotten language for another minute but he ended
his conversation with the dead man in English.

“Thank
you brave knight…for your sacrifice and for your faith. You’ve earned your rest
in paradise but the world still has need of your services this one last time.”

William
had no idea what all that gibberish had been about, and to be honest he didn’t
really want to know. He just wanted this craziness over and done with so he
could get out of the approaching storm and make good his escape.

“What
now?” he said.

“We
wait.”

“What’s
going to happen, though?”

Merlin
turned his milky-white eyes to the dark rumbling clouds above but shook his
head. “You’ll have to ask the sky, William. Only the thunder knows…”

*  
*   *

The
fog had completely vanished by the time Morgana made her appearance, walking
between her henchmen Angus and Big Josh. It was just like a woman to show up
fashionably late. And fashionable she was, twirling a small parasol above her
head to protect her coiffured hair and dressed in a tight black dress with a
plunging neckline which left nothing to the imagination. The witch looked more
like she was stepping onto the lawn of  some fancy garden party than walking
onto a field of battle, but seeing as she believed today would settle her claim
on the true Grail as well as finally getting rid of her archnemesis once and
for all, maybe this
was
a celebration of sorts. Stunningly beautiful or
not, she was rotten to the core inside and needed to be stopped.

“Good
of you to show up, my lady,” Merlin spoke, tongue-in-cheek. “I was beginning to
think you’d lost your nerve.”

“Don’t
flatter yourself, old man,” Morgana said, moving closer.

“That’s
far enough,” Merlin said, once Morgana and her men approached within fifteen
feet.

“I
hardly think you’re in any position to be making up the rules,” the witch said,
but stood her ground anyway. “I’ll do as I damn well please. Good of Mr. Hare
to dig your grave for you, though. Thank you, William.”

William
had no idea what to say and no interest in getting involved in this if he could
help it, so he remained quiet.

“The
grave’s not mine. Not yours either, unfortunately. It’s already occupied you
see…by the true Grail Keeper. Have a look for yourself.”

“Rubbish,
wizard. We both know I’ve already got the proper one. The
only
one!” As
if to add weight to her point, the large mountain of a man to her right held up
the golden chalice.

Merlin
tried his best not to stare too hard at the object he’d been searching for most
of his long life.

“Do
you now. Are you sure? You’d
better
be!”

“Step
away from the hole, Merlin. You try my patience for the last time.”

William
began to edge away to his left but Merlin stood his ground. One of Morgana’s
henchmen, a tall broad-shouldered muscular man, stepped forward brandishing a
long thin-bladed knife.

“You
heard the lady,” Angus Brooks said. His baldheaded ally Josh moved forward as
well, a blade appearing in his massive hand too. “Aye…step off!”

Merlin
smiled at the intimidating men, then glanced wryly at Morgana as if to say,
you’re
kidding me, right?
“By all means, good sirs. Anything you say.”

 The
magician walked over beside where William had slunk away to, allowing Morgana
and her friends access to the Templar’s grave. Morgana peered into the freshly
dug hole, somewhat taken aback when she saw the red cross on the giant dead
man’s tunic. A shadow of doubt crept across her pretty features and her eyes
flashed to the golden cup she’d brought with her today.

“Give
me my Grail, Josh, and get in there and check the grave.”

“Right
away, ma’am.”

Accomplishing
Morgana’s request was easier said than done for the big man. With his bulk, it
was proving quite difficult to maneuver his fat body down into the grave and he
twice nearly pitched face first down onto the corpse. In the end, Big Josh had
to sit down in the wet grass and slide into the hole.

“Get
on with it, man!” Angus said. “Search along the side of the body. It could be
down behind his head too.”

“Shut
yer gob…I know what I’m doing!”

“Find
the blasted thing, then. You’ll be swimming soon if those clouds let loose.”

“Okay…okay.”

Big
Josh knelt down with his knees on the exposed side rails of the wooden box and
began searching around the dead Templar’s legs and sides. He easily found the
old sword lying alongside his leg but ignored it for the moment. He was already
sweating and breathing hard, the air wheezing in and out of his lungs sounding
like a broken steam engine. Eventually he saw the way the dead man’s hands were
cupped upon his chest and noticed something golden glinting between the
Templar’s grey fingers.