Beyond the Crimson (The Crimson Cycle) (35 page)

I didn’t understand how he knew the things he knew, but then it hit me: where was Bedivere, Kay, and Lancelot? Where was Vivian for that matter? She should have been with Merlin. I looked at Merlin and his eyes were alight. 

              Brendelon seemed to be just as surprised but quickly turned his attention back to Morgaina, whose face was continuing to twist in a rage. 

Merlin smiled coyly.
“I had to be certain to stay near Bran, and the best way to do so was to allow you to capture me. You do not really think you could take me that easily, do you Morgaina?” he dripped condescendingly as she snarled at him. “Vivian and Elenora warned us of your plan. We were able to inform Arthur as they made their march towards Cadvic’s castle,” he continued.

             
“Aye,” Gawain boomed again, “and they shall be here soon with Cadvic’s army behind them, who will want your heads for your deceit and here
we
are with prime positioning to take the first pickings!” He smiled, a little too joyous for the beginning of a battle. 

             
I saw Mordegrant’s shiny mask move from left and right. I wished I could have seen his expression, but I was certain it was as stunned as Morgaina’s, if not more.

             
“
Vivian
,” Morgaina hissed. “So she still uses magic does she?” She began huffing in large breaths of air that made her seem to grow once again. “You are all miserable pathetic beings,” she screeched, “and I am a powerful sorceress; you
will
fear my power!” She held the Black Sword up to the sky and suddenly it turned dark; the clouds rolled in on command the way they had at William Cole’s estate. The thunder cracked loudly against the sky as the lightning lit it up in small strobes of light, and the rain poured down.

             
She lurched forward at Brendelon, but he blocked her with his sword and in the same instant, Gawain commanded his army to move forth and like two rivers flowing greedily towards an ocean, both armies gushed together but instead of waves crashing onto rocks, there was only metal clashing against metal. It was terrible and my stomach clenched tightly as I stood, unable to do anything but watch. Morgaina furiously attacked at Brendelon. She wasn’t as skilled as he was, but the Black Sword seemed to give her an abundance of power. I trembled, desperately trying to yank my arms from the grasps of the frozen guards that gripped me.

             
Another loud trumpet bellowed across the land from the south. I turned to see the navy blue tunics weaved in with crimson pouring in. My hope surfaced as I took in the numbers; it would be enough to turn the tide, especially with Ravenna holding back the Black Army.

As soon as they neared, I
saw Bedivere and Lancelot swing off their horses, dancing to a deadly song as they attacked those who had fallen from their horses. Kay sailed his horse valiantly through the seas of men, hacking each down who dared stand in his path. I looked over and saw Arthur in the distance slashing downwards from his large white horse, but then a loud crack sounded through my ears, and a bright flash of light struck the ground at Brendelon’s feet. He leapt out of the way, but he was off guard, and she was charging at him.

             
“Help him!” I screamed towards Bedivere and Lancelot, but they were too busy to hear me, fighting off oncoming foes. The Black Sword was too strong, and she knew it too because she smiled wickedly as she pressed forward against him, the black blade cutting into the shiny steel. 

             
She cupped her hands once more and this time he leapt to his right, missing the bolt by inches, but he struggled to keep balance on his right foot as the left was lifted away from the crack in the earth, and in the same moment out of the long sleeve of her cloak a sudden rush of black birds flew out. He hadn’t regained his footing, and the birds were just enough to send him tumbling backwards. She grinned again as she hacked down, but he blocked her with his sword and kicked her hard in the stomach, doubling her over. He rolled out from his spot of disadvantage, but then the sky went pitch black and in the next instant a flash appeared and all I saw was him standing, hunched forward. A dark silhouette of the sword thrust through the left side of his body, pierced from front to back.             

“Let the darkness take you,” she whispered in his ear, “You. Are. Different. You belong in the shadows where they cannot see because they fear what they do not understand, to be feared is power, and power is freedom.”

He wanted to fight her words
, but he could not because they held truth. He believed her; he had believed those words his whole life. He was dark; he always knew that. He could almost feel the power in his grasp.

“I can give it to you,” she cooed,
she opened her hand and there dangling from a golden chain was a beautiful emerald.

He felt weak against the allure of the promise.

“All you have to do is give me the sword,” she continued.

His eyes flashed up.
Sword? The power she had over him weakened as his reason kicked in. She was Arthur’s enemy, and that made her his enemy; he would never make the bond with her, and he would never ever reveal to her where the sword was because the sword was HIS.

He stumb
led forward, dropping his weapon to the side. I screamed, thrashing in the grasps of the two lifeless black guards. I flailed wildly, praying the wound wouldn’t be fatal, but in that same instant he slumped down, motionless.

             
“Army or not, I will make him touch it,” Morgaina seethed at him. “He will pull it right out of his dying cousin!” she screeched ruthlessly.

Brendelon’s face twisted in pain
, as he tried to move but it seemed as though the Black Sword was a boulder pressed against his back paralyzing him, soaking up all his strength. My stomach twisted painfully; I was helpless, desperate, and absolutely out of control.

Crimson trailed a flash of white
, and it took me a moment to realize it was Arthur rushing towards us. He jumped off his white horse, blue eyes only on his cousin as he ran forward with Excalibur in his hand, and panic creeping across his usually well-reserved face.

“Bran!” he shouted.

“No, Artos, no.” It came out as a whimper as he held one blood covered hand up to stop him; it made me cringe. The strong brave knight; now feeble and helpless. Arthur stood in place as his face changed from pain to anger and back to pain.

“Save him,” Morgaina purred.

“Stop!” I heard Merlin shout along with many other unintelligible things, but Arthur either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him. Though he should have known better than to listen to Morgaina’s words, seeing his cousin lying there seemed to be all he needed to convince himself; he moved forward.

“No, please Bear,” Brendelon groaned again, body still hunched do
wnward but Arthur didn’t listen. He aimed Excalibur in Morgaina’s direction, slowly approaching Brendelon as enemies fell all around him at the hands of his comrades. Thunder roared against the gray desolate sky, but he took no heed its warning.

“It is over, Morgaina,” he warned keeping his sword drawn towards her, blonde hair sopped down his face.  

“No brother, it is his life that is over,” she snarled wickedly. “That sword will take him unless it is removed.”

I tried to scream to warn him
, but he didn’t hear me over the cracking of the lightning striking close. I heard Merlin do the same, as he worked to fight against the grips of the guards who still held him.

Arthur’s eyes turned icy at her words, but he continued to move forward quickly, extending his arm out towards the hilt of the Black Sword, completely unaware that he was about to grasp on to his impending doom.

Brendelon shook his head fervently, still hunched over and struggling to crawl backwards away from Arthur with one hand still holding the penetrating sword, too slow as Arthur quickly closed the gap. He lifted his head up with a pained expression.

“Stop,”
he pled, but Arthur was within grasp then suddenly Brendelon’s features cleared and he jolted his body forward, grasping onto the cold steel blade of Excalibur, fingers intertwined with metal, and in that moment he held the powers of both good and evil within the same clutch. 

A loud crack sounded through the air as the force threw Arthur backwards, away from Excalibur, which still hung in Brendelon’s blood soaked hand. A terrifying aurora of green surrounded him. I knew it was the power surge. The surge that would surely take his life, I felt my body give out as I bawled uncontrollably, falling to my knees, my arms still being grasped by Morgaina’s dark robotic forces.

He dropped Excalibur and rising to his feet yanked the Black Sword from his side by the blade. With a sudden burst of strength, he lifted it high over his head and thrust it with all of his might into the boulder beside him. The force was so strong the sword broke at the hilt while the blade stayed penetrated into the rock. The broken hilt crumbled into a black dust, with only the emerald remaining. Brendelon collapsed next to it. Not moving. It was over. My body convulsed in pain.

Arthur sat up, dazed, focusing his eyes on Brendelon’s hunched form. His eyes widened in anguish
, and he scrambled on his hands and knees to his cousin, hugging him from behind. His shoulders heaved up and down. I wasn’t sure if he was weeping, for I couldn’t see his face, but in the next moment he turned, and the pained expression was replaced with a face of ice cold anger.

“
You
,” he growled, grabbing Excalibur from the ground as he scrambled wildly to his feet, pointing it at her. I felt the grip around my arm loosen, and I yanked my arm roughly from the immobile guard feeling the metal rip through my skin. Blood trickled down my arm hitting the earth, and suddenly her dark eyes jolted to me, widening into shock and almost glowing in the darkened sky, as a freezing cold gust swept across the field. She took a step towards me, but suddenly remembered herself as she whipped her gaze back to her approaching half-brother. She clenched her jaw in fury. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and the whole sky darkened once more, only lit up by terrifying bolts of lightning causing a strobe light, and only small flashes of scenes as he moved closer.

The
other guard suddenly released my left arm, and both of them ran to take their place behind Morgaina as Arthur continued to charge towards her. I looked and realized why; Ravenna was no longer subduing the black forces. Mordegrant galloped to her, sweeping her up onto the saddle in front of him, and like the coward he was—one who would only fight when odds were tilted in his favor—he retreated, leaving his men to their doom and not once looking back at his dying son.

I didn’t waste a moment longer watching the cruel souls disappear into the distance. I scrambled to my feet and ran as fast as I could to Brendelon’s side, throwing my arms around him. He was gasping for air, surely at his last breaths. His soaked black hair was flopped down on his forehead and
slightly over the green eyes that looked up to mine. There was no fear, no anger, only regret and despair.

“It
is over, Katarina,” he groaned. “All will be well.” But I only sobbed, burying my face in between the crook of his shoulder and neck. It wouldn’t be okay; he wouldn’t survive this, and my already broken heart crumbled into pieces so small they floated up into my throat, choking me with each weeping breath.

“I… I should have told you before,” he said slowly, struggling for breaths. I pulled away, looking at his beautiful green eyes, through the shower of tears that I co
uldn’t control. “But I… I…” He looked away uneasily. “It is just that…” He winced in pain, but tried again. “I want you to know that I… well you… you feel like…
home
to me,” he finally got out, looking up to me, vulnerable and nervous, “and I … I feel to be nowhere without you.”

My
body trembled at the confession. It wasn’t fair; it was all I wanted and was finally in my grasp but slipped through my fingers like water, the sea I couldn’t hold. “You’ll always belong with me,” I sobbed hysterically as I threw myself into him again, trying my best to not hurt him any more than he already was. “I know it’s hard to hear—”

“Actually
… I find it rather easy…” he mumbled. I pulled back, and he gave me a small smile but his beautiful emeralds revealed the pain and the thought of never seeing them dance with mischief again sent me into another fit of tears. I buried my head onto his shoulder as he doubled over in agony once again, moaning as he held his wound, and in that same moment Merlin was by our side.

“Be still Bran,” he said gently as he looked at the wound. Merlin shuddered slightly as his light blue eyes trailed back to the hunched over head of the boy he had helped to raise. He gave me a pitiful look and put a weathered hand upon his shoulder, eyes looking as tho
ugh they would spill with tears. “I am so sorry, Brendelon,” he said softly. “I…” he shook his head, “I should have told you the truth from the beginning.”

Brendelon sucked in a deep breath and shook hi
s head. “Be not sorry Merlin. You did more for me than I deserved,” he mumbled into the ground, clutching his wound. 

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends,” Merlin whispered. Brendelon nodded in understanding. 

“Please, don’t leave me,” I pleaded. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve to be the sacrifice; he deserved to live.

He lifted his head, focusing the glittering emeralds into my sea of tear
s. “You remember me,” his voice quavered, as he clasped one hand behind my neck, “and I will be there.”

H
e pulled me close, nose-to-nose; his forehead resting against mine, and suddenly the world stopped for me. It gave me a moment I could never repay back, and in that instant I saw him for all that he was: a broken boy who had spent his life gathering the smashed pieces of his heart to build an impenetrable fortress around the void it had left behind, a brave loyal knight dilapidated into believing it was greater to be feared than loved, and an incandescent soul whose bright and beautiful light had been dimmed by the misunderstood shadows that lurked from his past. But more than this, I realized just how lonely I had been, and that all this time he wasn’t an endless question to figure out; he was the answer. He satiated the obscured emptiness inside me that I had unknowingly spent years trying to fill with information just to feel whole again. I had finally found what I had been searching for, and as I sunk into him, it was suddenly as if all was clear and nothing else mattered. 

“I love you,” I whispered, not caring anymore if the words made him uncom
fortable. He stiffened slightly and pulled back, searching my eyes wildly.

“Say it again,” he whispered
.

“I lo—”

But as his lips hit mine, I forgot myself. My whole body burned with desire, passionate and unyielding, feeling the slight pressure of his teeth pulling on my lower lip, winding his fingers into my hair. I was lost in him, forgetting the chaos around me because all I could see was him. I was so caught up in the moment, I hardly felt him release his grip around my neck as he pressed something small, smooth, and cold into my palm. He pulled back abruptly, and I blinked at the bruised face now displaying the saddest expression I had ever seen, but before I could speak, a bright light shone out of the frame. I was suddenly spinning, taken by a force so strong my body struggled to stay intact, and the last thing I saw was his eyes roll back before he crumbled forward to the ground.