Simon Green - A Hard Day's Knight

“Arthur,” he said, his voice seeming to come from a long way away, “one last confer, before I lay me down to rest in the grave that’s waiting for me. There are things I know, things I have Seen, of the world that’s coming. It isn’t what either of us thought it would be, but then, that’s life for you. Welcome to the future, Arthur. You won’t like it. But don’t let it get to you. The details may change, but people are still people. Unfortunately. Stick to the job in hand, and you’ll be fine.”

“They say the elves will war upon themselves unless I can find a way to stop them,” said Arthur. “How am I supposed to reason with the most contrary people that ever were? What if I can’t find a common ground for them?”

Merlin smiled briefly, as though he’d heard every word. “Then raise up the armies of Man, Arthur, and lead them in a war against the elves. Wipe them out, down to the last of their kind. There is no other option.”

Arthur shook his head stubbornly. “I have seen enough of war, and extinction, down the centuries. I have dreamed history, and much of it was a nightmare. I have fought elves in my time, it was my duty as defender of my people; but I never wanted to see them gone from the world. They had many fine qualities. They were beautiful and brave, magical and marvellous. They were glorious in their day.”

Merlin smiled. “You always were the wise one, Arthur. Do as you think best, my King. You always did. Good-bye, old friend. Good-bye.”

And he was gone. One last vision, of a man who was so much more and less than he could have been.

“Good-bye, Merlin,” said Arthur. “May you know peace, at last.” He turned abruptly away from the open grave to face the rest of us. “Merlin did his best to teach me some simple magics, when I was younger and he was older, though I confess I was never a very attentive student. But I did learn a few useful things. I think it is my turn to show you a vision, my friends, of the elves that were.”

He moved his left hand through a series of sudden, abrupt gestures, and a great vista opened up before us. The end of the cellars faded away, replaced by a great green expanse that stretched away to a distant horizon. A huge, dark, primordial forest stood out against the skyline, shadowy and secretive, mysterious and menacing. Untamed. A vision of old England as it was in Arthur’s day. Standing between us and the forest was a great elven city: tall towers connected by delicate walkways, gold and silver buildings, shining bright in the sunlight, with vast glowing domes and wide-open chambers, all of it magnificent to the eye. The lines were smooth and flowing, more organic than constructed, grown more than built. The whole city sparkled in the clear light, looking like every fairy tale we ever believed in as children. Breath-stoppingly beautiful, alive and protective, in a way few human cities ever are. Beside the city lay a great natural open harbour, where massive elven sailing ships lay at rest, so intricately made and fashioned that they were works of art in their own right.

The city was full of life, of elves walking in majesty and glory, with a simple grace that Humanity could never manage. They were nothing like the elves I’d known—beatendown remnants of a once-noble race. There was magic in their every movement and a dignity that bordered on arrogance. Their emotions were larger and purer than ours, and so their faults were greater, too. They were not so different from us, really. The elves ... were Humanity writ large, with all our virtues and our faults magnified. They moved like walking dreams that could become nightmares.

Other magical creatures accompanied them—whole clouds of wee winged fairies, flashing through the air, shooting back and forth in patterns too complicated for the human eye to follow, leaving behind them shimmering trails of pure joy. Winged unicorns, of a white so bright it was blinding, flying gracefully down to graze on the great green pastures. There were gryphons and cockatrices and gargoyles, moving openly, with no fear of human hunters. There were trolls and ogres and darker shapes I didn’t even recognise, gone from history so long that not even their names remained. They bowed respectfully to the elves, who moved amongst them unconcerned.

And then the marvellous scene was gone, the stone cavern abruptly back again. It felt like waking from a dream of something wonderful, lost. Arthur lowered his hand, looking tired.

“The elves were worth saving, then,” said Arthur. “Perhaps they can become worth saving again. Honour requires I give them that chance.”

“Never did share your enthusiasm for the pointy-eared bastards,” said Kae. “They did things no human being would ever do and gloried in it.”

“They were different,” said Arthur.

“And Mab was a monster!”

“Grief and loss of her only true love drove her mad,” Arthur said flatly. “I sent Tam to her; so part of everything that happened after that is down to me. She never got over Tam’s death; and immortals have so much longer to grieve than us. Her rage against the fate that took him became a rage against the world, and all who lived in it. I have known grief and loss, too.”

“It didn’t make you into a monster,” said Kae.

“It might have,” said Arthur. “You never did realise how close I came, after I lost Guinevere.” He shook his great head again. “There’s been too much killing. There’s only one way to stop this coming civil war amongst the elves; and that’s to find them a new home. All of them. I have dreamed the elves’ sad history. They are stagnating in Shadows Fall and dying in the Sundered Lands the Droods found for them. Perhaps that’s why the Droods chose it. Always were a bunch of devious bastards. No—both sides need to move to a new world, where they can thrive and prosper again, far from humanity.”

“Is this ... really such a good idea, Arthur?” said Kae, trying hard to sound tactful. “A new, revitalised elven race could be an even greater threat to Humanity. For all your ... dreams, I don’t think you realise exactly how far the elves have fallen. There’s nothing left in them but bitterness and hate for everything human. They live to screw us over because that’s all they’ve got left. Only this day, an army of elves broke into my castle and killed dozens of my good knights, simply because they could!”

“And how many of them did you kill, Kae?” said Arthur. “The killing has to stop sometime.”

“You always were a dreamer,” growled Kae.

“And sometimes I make dreams come true,” said Arthur. “Isn’t that why you founded the London Knights, to keep my dream alive?”

“I don’t know why I ever argue with you,” said Kae. “You always could talk rings round me.”

“Kae, even Gawaine could talk rings round you. And he only had fifty words, thirty of which were arse.”

They both got the giggles, which was somewhat incongruous for such large men.

“I can find the elves a new world,” I said, thinking quickly, and they both stopped laughing to look at me. I did my best to sound calm and composed. “There is an establishment here in the Nightside, with many Doors, that lead to every place you ever dreamed of. Doorways to all the worlds that ever were or may be, worlds without end. And one Door in particular leads to a world I think would be perfect for the elves. As long as we’re careful to bolt the Door firmly behind them. If I lead you to such a Door, Arthur, can you persuade the elves to go through it?”

“The returned King’s authority should be enough to summon both sides to parley,” said Kae. “Always assuming a suitable neutral ground can be found.”

“Again, I have a place in mind,” I said. “I’ve been there before, and it’s probably the one place that would impress the shit out of both sides.”