Sorcerer from Another World

“Welcome to Giant’s Hame.” Morgana said in my ear. “Where the Kings of Gelt do council and listen to petitions and songs across the land.”

She also said to mention nothing of Erec to the Kings.

Inside the Hillfort, I saw an array of defences and guards. Many other folks from servants to scholars walked about on their daily business. The Hillfort was a world inside a world. I had a feeling that even if Elkilbour fell then Giant’s Hame could last on.

The Guard changed from the city guard to the even more shiny and decorated Kings Guard.

“Druids have told of your arrival. The Kings of Gelt demand the presence of Morgana Pendragon and her ally in the Great Hall immediately.” One of them said.

“Led the way.” Morgana said with a smile.

There were multiple entrances, but we were led to the biggest and main door.

A graceful woman, wearing a thick, red fur coat, said, “I am the Druid Drosea Doorkeeper of the Great Hall.”

“A pleasure.” I said.

“We are most welcomed by the Kings' invitation to their hallowed hall.” Morgana said in lip service.

“As are we by your presence and rude as it may be. I must ask that you leave your weapons at the door.”

Morgana lay her sword at a ready table, “I would expect nothing less to ensure the protection of the highest men in Gelt.”

I, however, was rather reluctant to let go of my staff. A glance at Tara showed she was even less keen to get her weapons.

“They were a gift. I do not let them go on the word of those who are not my Oathsworn.” Tara declared.

I saw Dorsea's shoulders tense, and I felt the movement of steel around me. Not enough for an attack, but in ready preparation to spill blood.

I blinked dumbly, “I am your Oathsworn?”

“Obviously.” She gave me the meanest side-eyed glance. I got the feeling, in that moment, worms were smarter than me.

I nodded and then remembered, I guess she was, “So, that is the name for it. Cool.” I said a bit too casually.

“More honoured than my Chief Rebecca. It has more feeling when we are magic and blade fighting like legends. Maybe speak less?” She teased.

It had been a long time since I had my ego shredded by a friend. I missed it oddly enough.

I waved my hand, “Yes, yes. I’m a dumb sorcerer.”

I placed my staff on the table with the thought of just getting this over with. I had more than enough magic at my disposal should things go wrong.

“Are you sure?” Tara asked me. Rather more seriously.

“I’ll know if they have been tampered with and the fools can suffer from the curses for their foolishness.” I lied ( about the second part.)

The pale faces of the King’s Guard told me that it was the right move to bluff. I was rather proud of myself for nipping trouble in the bud.

Tara placed her sword on the table next to my staff with glare at the Doorkeeper.

“I promise they shall go untouched until your safe return.” Doresa promised with a forced smile.

“They better.” Tara warned with a low voice.

“They get it. Are we going or waiting out here all morning?” Morgana huffed.

“We’re coming.” I said and stood at her side.

“You okay to handle the talking.” I said to her.

“Of course, but be sure to speak up. I trust you know when it is the right time.” She said with a smile.

A smile I shared. It had been days we had spent together but the trust between us was growing for having been tested in fire.

“Be respectful magic man in the Great Hall of Kings.” One of the King’s Guard warned before we entered.

The King’s Guard pushed open the large, thick doors decorated with celtic knots and designs.

It deserved the name - Great Hall of Kings. Inside was bright and blazing with a large fire blazing in the centre of the hall. The flames cast a violent red light and thick, long shadows. The trails of smoke leaving through vents past looming statues that glared with a lively intensity.

The hall was wide and in the shape of a perfect square and draped with many fine tapestries of legends new and old. Giants, Druids and Warriors caught up in wonders and terrors borne of Albion.

“Step before the fire, Morgana Pendragon.”

A King sat to our North, west and east and the main door closed to our backs. The three Kings of Gelt who shared power together. It was the Northern King who spoke.

Morgana strode forward with confident strides, she made a small gesture for us to follow. It was warm by the fire. Morgana directed her gaze to the Northern King. I to the western and Tara to the Eastern.

“We welcome you and your company to the White City during these chaotic times. You may seek safety behind our walls and wield axes as one when we are assailed.”

Morgana dipped her head slightly, “We would never abandon an ally. Your kindness and generosity shall be remembered.”

There was something odd about them. Not the fact that they were broad, powerful men. The Northern King was the oldest with greying hair, and the Eastern King the youngest and still growing out a thick beard. The Western King had an ageless, if ugly appearance.

No, there was something cast over them. A thin, murky net. Yet for all appearances they were hale and healthy.

I couldn’t place my finger on it. A magic or druidry of some kind, and foul at that. But, I had never met them before. I knew little of their powers in this place. I trusted in the impression that I disliked the magic on them.

“Who do you bring with you Morgana Pendragon? We hear tales of an copy of Merlin who can float a rock where men and women would normally ride horses.” The Eastern King of Gelt asked and stated.

Morgana turned to him, thumped her chest then met his gaze.

“My apologies for the late introduction. This is Sorcerer Damian of the Greys. Protecting us is Tara Hero of the Battle at Ferisdarm. He has many glorious titles, but for brevity it is only important to know that he is my Champion and no mere copy of Merlin. Rather, Merlin cannot hope to match my chosen one.”

“No doubt.” The Western King patronised with subtle, mocking tones. “Why do you disturb our hall, Sorcerer?” The Western King asked.

“For a few reasons. One of which is to ask, what reasons do you have to not head out and strike the enemy?” I asked.

I knew I shouldn’t have asked, but I was curious.

“These walls were built by the Ancient Giants, friends of Druids who stood together against the Overlord Maglh: the first Giant and the father of the Unseelie Lords. They held then, they will hold now.” the Eastern King of Gelt said.

The thin net of magic constricted around him when he spoke there. Was it to compel or was it something he cast and drew on, but to what effect?

“You would not upset the balance in the land of Britta over the throne of Camelot and perhaps all of Albion to ask an irrelevant question. You have sided with an outcast and now you come to Gelt. Why?” The Western King insisted.

“What else do you want to take?” The Northern King asked.

I gestured to Morgana to answer. She showed no emotion at being called an outcast.

Where the Northern King was respectful to Morgana, but not to me. The Western King treated me casually but not rudely, yet he insulted Morgana. The politics was all too real and confusing.

“We seek a land to call home with the promise that we will be faithful allies against the terrors of both the Unseelie and the Romans.”

“Rumour has it you are with the Unseelie.” the Eastern king told as he fiddled with his crown.

“Do not gossip. Lies from Camelot told in Britta do not need to be entertained in Gelt.” retorted the Western King.

“A fine principle, King. Land and friends is our wish.” I said.

“We cannot offer any land within our walls even if you perform a deed of renown.” The Western King of Gelt said.

“Can we have land outside the walls, it can be wasteland for all I care. But, we need a land and you need a powerful ally. Help us now, and reap the benefits of tomorrow or do nothing and suffer for your inaction.” I told them.

“We cannot just give away land.” The Northern King said with a scowl.

“What are your promises worth, you no name Sorcerer?” the Eastern King spat his crown dropping over his eyes.

“Enough!” said the Western King. “There is a ruined tower with unarable land not far from Elkilbour. You will be within half a days ride, but at the mercy of the Romans if they seek our city.”

“Yes, we could put them there.” The Eastern King said.

“But, a deed of renown must be completed in Alba.” the Northern King asserted.

“We are in need of allies. The dragon Teator has been silent for generations. Seek him and entreaty an alliance to Elkilbour. Làidir arrived with you. She shall be an envoy to represent our interests along with the warrior Breka from our guard.”

“If you cannot gain an alliance with Treator. You must slay the dragon … we will not have Clavile turn him against us.“ the Western King commanded.

A talking quest or a slay quest. If it was a game I would have slain it. But, not now. There was no clear good or bad morality system. The consequences of my actions and others were unfolding like an absurdly bad play.

Kill a dragon of all creatures. The gem of fantasy. It just seemed wrong. Especially when commanded to me by these so-called Kings.

“That is a bold request for a piece of barren land.” Morgana said, I could see the wheels turning in her head processing it all. “Slaying a dragon merits a kingdom not a wasteland… and forging alliances with a dragon is tricky business. They do not think like us humans.”

Well there are serpents. Are they western dragons or eastern ones, I mused. No wonder their brain and body chemistry is different. It was a thing though how it made dragons different from humans I didn’t know. It was hard even with my skills to determine clearly how biology influences action.

I watched the Western King carefully. He was both lying and telling the truth during his statement. That was my impression. Not a half truth or lie. But something true that was also false.

We were missing information.

Morgana waved me over and whispered in my ear, “There is another actor in play.”

“Who?”

She shook her head.

So, this wasn’t the King’s request. It was too random and unclear how it would benefit them. It would make more sense for them to help out preparing city defences or send us out. In fact, they had not explored our situation much at all.

They should be equally lacking information on us. Their words seemed to show their ignorance. Erec knew more about us than these Kings.

Let us test something here.

“We passed through a village on our way here. We have some of the villagers in our group. We saved them from a band on Unseelie called the Straw Axes who were turning the living into the dead. Would not saving an entire village count as a deed of renown?”

Morgana nodded thoughtfully at my statement.

“Considering we are making an agreement of mutual benefit, is not saving a village more than enough service to Alba? One we did out of charity before you made a request of us. A service that is only the first of many if we settle down here.” Morgana added onto my attempt at persuasion.

The Eastern King scoffed and then laughed, it was a cold empty sound, “A village? We are Kings. What is the fate of a village compared to the burden of a realm? Are you deaf, Sorcerer? The dragon go deal with it and bring its head to our feet.”

“The concerns of Elkilbour and the threat posed by the dragon outweigh a disposing a single pack of Unseelie for a no-name village.” The Northern King commented.

“We have spoken. We need a deed of renown. Not a deed of charity.” The Western King declared with stern stare.

If I read the room properly. The Western King was the most powerful of the three. The Northern King the face. Eastern King the weakest and equally poor at communicating.

Their responses told me a lot about their thinking. I also noticed, Morgana’s eyes narrowed. A subtle sign of her disagreement. But they had put their feet down.

I nodded, with resignation, to Morgana.

“To prove our fellowship to the Kings of Gelt we will handle the dragon problem.”

The Eastern king waved us away, “Our doorkeeper will tell you the details.”

We gave slightly bows and walked out of the Great Hall of Kings. I felt a headache forming. A mixture of stress and annoyance.

What a pain in the arse those three were.

Doorkeeper Dorsea bows as we come out and hands us our weapons back.

Morgana told her of the Kings’ words.

“The wisdom of our rulers is profound. For the Dragon is near the tower which is to be your reward. Succeed and not only will you earn glory to your names, but be resolving a potential problem for yourselves.”

Somehow, despite her sincerity. I doubted that was the Kings of Gelt intent or maybe I was being cynical.

“We will see.” I said with little commitment.

“So we shall.” Morgana replied. “Let us go see, Iris and pay our respects to the Circle of Druids.”

“They will be most glad to see you I am sure.” Drosea said with a booming smile.

Wow, she was a customer service pro. No wonder they gave her the post of Doorkeeper.

“I hope so.” I said, reflecting her smile.