Simon Green - A Hard Day's Knight

“I’ve been through a lot of battles like that,” I said. “Nothing ever changes.”

“This is different,” insisted Sir Gareth. “King Arthur reborn and returned will be a major player in everything that is happening, perhaps even the Major Player. Especially the upcoming elf civil war.”

“Is that still on?” I said. “What about the Peace Treaty?”

“Didn’t work. No-one ever thought it would. Neither side really wants peace—just some breathing space to muster their forces. Both sides want this war, John. Their survival as a race depends upon it. They’re dying out. No elven children have been born for ages; either in Shadows Fall, under Oberon and Titania, or in the Sundered Lands, under the returned Mab. They will fight their civil war here on Earth, destroying our civilisation in the process, then the surviving elves will take this world for their own again. And thus restore their ... vitality.”

“Could they really wipe us out while divided amongst themselves?” I said.

“Who knows what a species can do with its back against the wall,” said Sir Gareth. “We’ve always known they had weapons beyond our reach or imagination. Either way, it won’t be good for the Earth. Which is probably why the Lady Gaea is getting personally involved for the first time in centuries. I’d be worried if I were the worrying kind.”

“I did hear,” I said, “that the elves chose to leave this world, all those years ago. That they were running from something, and not us.”

“Presumably, things have changed,” said Sir Gareth.

“What makes King Arthur so important to the elves?”

“His stepsister was Morgan Le Fae,” Sir Gareth said simply.

“But who was she? I mean, yes, obviously, the clue is in the name. But was she an elf, a half-elf, or what?”

“Good question,” said Sir Gareth. “If you ever find out, please let us know. We’ve got libraries full of books, from official histories to personal accounts, and none of them can agree on an answer. So much knowledge was lost ... after the fall of Logres and the destruction of Camelot.”

“Merlin told me ... he never believed she was really family to Arthur,” I said.

Sir Gareth looked at me sharply. “Of course; you had dealings with the Satanspawn, in the Nightside. None of us could ever talk to him; the Grand Master would never allow it. He always said Merlin disgraced himself by not being there at Logres when he was needed the most.”

“He did say he regretted that,” I said.

“Not good enough,” Sir Gareth said flatly. “We do not forget, or forgive.”

“I don’t think he gave a damn what you thought about him,” I said. “He had far more serious sins on his conscience. Anyway, he’s dead and gone now.”

Sir Gareth looked at me thoughtfully. “Word is you knew him as well as any man could. You must write us a full report while you’re here, for our records.”

“No,” I said. “He and I were never friends, but ... some things should stay private. You knights made the decision to have nothing to do with him; and I think he’d want me to tell you to go to Hell.”

“Yes,” said Sir Gareth. “That sounds like him.”

We walked on in silence for a while, each of us thinking his separate thoughts. I knew a lot of things about Merlin that I was pretty sure the Knights didn’t. I knew Merlin wasn’t present for the final battle of Logres because he was obsessed with tracking down and killing the missing Morgan Le Fae for her betrayal of Arthur. By the time he was finished with her, and got back, it was all over; and Arthur was dead. Though Merlin did once admit to me that he wasn’t entirely sure Morgan was dead. Could she still be round, and ready to reappear, now that Merlin was gone and Arthur was coming back? One more thing to worry about ... I couldn’t tell the knights any of this; because if Merlin had wanted them to know, he would have told them himself. He must have had his reasons for maintaining his silence.

And I definitely couldn’t tell Sir Gareth that I’d met the living Merlin, back in the sixth century, taken his heart, and brought about his death. Or that while I was there, I’d briefly seen the living King Arthur, in his last communication with Merlin; in a sending, a dream walking, that arrived too late. Some things should be kept private.

Especially as I still wasn’t sure whether I trusted the London Knights yet. Nothing does more harm than a good man doing good in a bad way.

“I’m surprised you guys know so much about me,” I said finally. “I wouldn’t have thought I was important enough to register on your radar.”

“Don’t be disingenuous,” said Sir Gareth. “It doesn’t suit you. We know who you are, and what you are, and what you’ve done. We always said we’d have to do something about you if you ever left the Nightside. Some kind of high explosive, probably. There was a lot of talk about whether we should intervene during the Angel War, then the Lilith War; but we held off. Partly because we really hate getting involved with the Nightside, but mostly because we were curious to see what you would do.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I think.”

“And there have always been those amongst us who think we should ride into the Nightside in force and wipe you all out once and for all.”

“Well,” I said. “You could try ...”

“Quite. We have been keeping a more than usually close eye on the Nightside, recently. Ever since King Artur turned up there from Sinister Albion. That damned and corrupt dimension where a Golden Age was drowned in blood and horror. The only reason we haven’t gone there in force and put everything right the hard way is because we can’t find a way in. That Merlin is still alive, and protecting his own little infernal playground. Which is why we were so interested when King Artur appeared. How did he leave his world and enter the Nightside?”

“A Timeslip, presumably,” I said. “The Nightside is lousy with the things.”

“If so, we haven’t been able to find it. And we looked really hard.”

I gave him a stern look. “You people have been to the Nightside?”

“Hardly. We wouldn’t fit in. We’d be noticed. But we do have certain resources ...”

“Do you know what happened to Artur?” I said. “He seemed to vanish.”

“Haven’t a clue. Do you ... ?”

“No. Do you know why he came to the Nightside?”

“Yes. He wanted to get his hands on our Excalibur and make it his own because the Lady of his world refused him her sword. He was not worthy.”

“But what would Artur want with our Excalibur?”

“If he could seize it by force, and make it serve him, Excalibur would make Artur powerful enough to stand up to his Merlin,” Sir Gareth said patiently. “Artur might be King of Sinister Albion; but he still bows his head to Merlin Satanspawn if he wants to keep his throne.”

“Civil war everywhere you look,” I murmured. “Why can’t people just get along?”

Sir Gareth looked at me sharply. “Both sides of the Fae, and a great many other interested parties, would very much like to know where King Arthur is sleeping. Where his body lies, hidden and protected. Including us.”

“You don’t know?” I said, honestly surprised.

“We’ve never known. Whoever put Arthur to rest, dead or sleeping, went to great pains to hide him from everyone, friends and enemies alike. The London Knights have spent centuries searching, to no avail. And we only wanted to protect him. Many others would give everything they possess to discover Arthur’s hiding-place. Because whoever controls him potentially controls everything else. He is the greatest hero and warrior this world has ever known.”

“I take it we’re not only talking about the good guys here,” I said. “The bad guys want him, too?”