Queen of Sorcery

A horse whinnied in the distance, the crack of a twig snapping like a broken bone. The young girl clutched tighter at the tiny hand in hers – terror building in her as she looked around them. She needed to get them off the road, but didn’t know the forests well enough to navigate in the light of day – and it was now blacker than pitch with only the hint of starlight through the trees to guide them. She tugged at the hand, forcing the little boy attached to it to move faster, but he dug in his heels with a glare to her.

“Morgaine, where are we going. It’s the middle of the night. I want to go back to bed.” He looked at her petulantly. A frown on his round child’s face tugging down his lips.

She continued tugging at him until he moved off the road and into the forest, deeper and deeper. She was grateful it was the end of fall and merging into winter as it let her see the stars through the canopy of skeletal branches. Morgaine glanced down at the little boy. “We can’t. It isn’t safe. Remember how mother always said we should never tell anyone who we really are?” The little boy narrowed his eyes at her. “Well, you told the other kids, and they told their parents and now we have to leave. Great job Arthur.”

“It isn’t my fault. I gave them an order. They should have obeyed.” He attempted to tug his hand from hers, but she still had a head on him in height, and more lithe muscle than he did. “Stop.”

“No.” She gave him another tug, forcing him to move despite his protests. “Arthur, this is your fault. Mother has been taken by King Uther’s men and is being charged with treason for escaping with us when you were a baby. I heard them break in after you went to bed.”

“I don’t believe you.” Arthur snapped out, trying to pull free again. This time Morgaine allowed him to, letting his weight pull him off balance. Arthur fell to the ground with a thump and glared at her. “How dare you!”

Morgaine crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down. “Arthur, drop the attitude with me. In this moment, you are my little brother – not my king. If you want King Uther – our pompous, nasty, cruel, father – to take you back to Camelot to chain you up or possibly just kill you, go right ahead. I am not going to fight with you all the way through this forest, but I will not let him take me.” Morgaine watched Arthur climb back up to his feet and brush the dirt and rotting leaves from the back of his pants.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I don’t think he would do that. Uther needs an heir and I am all he’s got. I am going to be the best king Camelot has ever had. That’s what the prophecy says. Why wouldn’t he want me? Mother never should have taken me from him.”

“Is that what you think?” Morgaine shook her head and snorted. “You were a baby. What do you know? When Uther heard that prophecy, he had every male child that could possibly have been his drowned. We were lucky to have gotten out with you alive. If you want to risk it though, go right ahead. Like I said, I’m not going to stop you.” She waved her hand back towards the way they had come. “Go on.”

Arthur turned and took a tentative step, then another, before stopping and looking back to his older sister. He blinked at her. “Aren’t you coming?”

Morgaine shook her head. “Not a chance. I’m going this way. You can come if you want or test your luck with Uther. Your choice.” She spun back to the way she had been headed and pressed on into the forest. As she knew would happen, a few seconds later, Arthur’s small footsteps sounded behind her again. “I thought you were going to have a grand reunion with Uther. What changed your mind?”

“I still might, but it wouldn’t be very kingly of me to leave a female in the woods alone in the middle of the night.” Arthur huffed breathily, as he attempted to keep up with her longer strides.

“Of course not.” Morgaine fought down her grin as she looked back at him. For an eight year old, Arthur was still on the smaller size, looking more like a six year old – which had saved them on numerous occasions as their mother had moved them from one distant relative to an old childhood friends, and so on as the years passed, trying to stay ahead of her husband. Although, Morgaine wasn’t sure he could be truly considered her husband anymore if the marriage had been, according to their mother Igraine, not only arranged and forced, but the husband and wife hadn’t seen each other in seven years. Morgaine knew it wasn’t all Arthur’s fault though. He had been raised amongst families where the mother and father were both kind to their children, and the fathers would tell stories before putting their sons and daughters to bed or teach their son’s their craft. Uther had been none of that though. His moods were as changeable as the weather, laughter and gaiety blowing in fast with anger nipping at its heels. Morgaine had learned to conceal her own emotions because of it and weave in and out of the shadows to not draw his notice.

She was glad her brother had no real memories of that time, but was fearful that he may have inherited some of Uther’s changeable temperament. Morgaine had only made the mistake of mentioning it to their mother once, but never again. Igraine would not hear of it. It was the only time her mother had ever hit her, leaving a mark deeper than any strike from their father ever had. It had let Morgaine know that Arthur, no matter what he did, would always be in the right because he was the prophesized savior of Brittanny, and Morgaine was simply his older sister. His protector.

Morgaine ducked under a branch, feeling her long hair, turned black in the darkness, tangle against the smaller twigs. She cursed under her breath and paused to free herself. Arthur stopped next to her, using his smaller hands, to free the knots with ease. He let out a heavy breath and looked up at her, the shadows reflecting in his blue eyes. “Was he really that bad? Will he really hurt Mother?”

She didn’t say anything at first, just tried to keep the door as firmly closed on the first six years of her life as possible. When she felt that she had successfully kept the memories at bay, Morgaine cupped his cheek in her hand. “He was Arthur, but you are nothing like him. You have good in you, and Uther does not.”

“And Mother?” He asked, blinking at her with tears forming in his eyes.

Morgaine shook her head, holding his gaze, her own eyes pooling with liquid. She let a single drop fall, before looking away and sniffing. “I don’t know, but the best thing we can do for her is to escape.”

“Escape where? Where are we going?” He asked, gripping her hand again as she continued leading him through the woods.

“We’re going to Avalon. To Merlin,” she firmly stated.

Arthur froze again, tugging her to a stop. “What?” He questioned with incredulity. “Avalon is a myth. Merlin is a story. A fairytale.”

“So are swords in stones and prophesized kings. If you believe that of yourself, why not believe in old wizards and ancient Fae lands?” Morgaine shrugged. “It’s the only hope we have Arthur. There is no one else to turn to. We are alone.”

He nodded. “You’re right. Okay. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Me too,” she muttered into the dark. “Me too.”

They were silent for a long time, the sound of breaking twigs and leaves crackling, the only sign of their passing. Morgaine checked their position against the stars every chance she had, only knowing they needed to go northeast. What she hadn’t told Arthur was that she did know where they were going. She hadn’t told him, because she didn’t know how he would take the news that she had been told to find Merlin and Avalon in a dream several weeks ago. If she told him, then she worried she would also have to tell him that she knew Uther had been closing in on them again and that Igraine, in turn, would be taken. It would then be her fault, in Arthur’s eyes, that their mother was now a prisoner and they were, once again, on the run. It wouldn’t matter to Arthur that she had tried to tell their mother about her dream, or that Igraine had refused to believe it. All that would matter to him is Morgaine hadn’t convinced her, and they hadn’t left.

Another hour of silence passed by and Morgaine felt her brother’s feet slowing as his arm jerked against her hand. She stopped and scooped him onto her back, knowing she needed to find the lake at sunrise or miss their opportunity of finding the road to Avalon until the next new moon. She quickened her pace, pushing her legs to move as fast as they would go. The gleam of the rising sun bit at her heels. Morgaine felt her breath cutting her lungs, her thighs and back screaming at her. She was glad for having cast the cloak of nobility behind her years ago, choosing instead to live like many of the servants, helping to stoke the fires, climbing trees and rock fences, swimming in the ponds, and mucking stables. She had learned many valuable skills, but, despite knowing how to skin a rabbit and cook a stew, she did not know how to kill one or find the herbs to properly season it without accidentally killing them.

Morgaine gritted her teeth, trying to check their position against the fading stars, but the sun was coming up too quickly. Morgaine forced herself to move faster as Arthur stirred. Suddenly, she saw the trees thinning and a gleam of blue in the distance. She pushed her tired legs into a stumbling run, her throat dry and her lungs screaming for air. Ignoring her pain, Morgaine moved even faster and broke through the cover of trees, just as the flickering rays of sunlight revealed a gleaming bridge from the shore of the lake to an island far out in the distance.

“Morgaine, is that… is that Avalon?” Arthur whispered in awe.

She set her brother on his feet and took his hand. “Come on. We have to set foot on the bridge before the sun fully rises over the horizon.” For once, he didn’t question her. He followed her at a sprint, the bridge flickering ominously. They were so close. “Come on. Faster Arthur. Faster.” She dragged at his hand, and he pushed himself harder. It flickered again. Morgaine screamed in frustration, daring the bridge to disappear. Then their feet were on the golden oak planks, and Morgaine collapsed to her knees breathing hard with Arthur next to her.