Conquest - Chapter 1

 

Arthur held Guinevere’s life in his hands. She held his heart in hers.

Synopsis: After losing his wife to magic, Uther Pendragon is determined to take over Albion and unite it under his rule, while eradicating all traces of magic and those who would practice it. At first Arthur is determined to rid the kingdom of magic and make his father sole king of Albion. Then Arthur meets Guinevere, the daughter of the only king powerful enough to stand in Uther's way, and everything begins to change. 

This story is dedicated to Wikked Angel. You've been a blessing to me more than you will ever know. I love and appreciate you. *hugs*

 

Part 1 - The Prince Captured

1.

Prince Arthur Pendragon spurred his horse mercilessly in a bid for freedom he knew would only elude him.

On either side of Arthur, some distance apart, were two of his closest friends. To his left was Sir Gawain, his cousin and one of his best friends. To his right was Sir Percival, the second closest friend Arthur had. All three men pushed their steeds to the breaking point. When the horses gave way, they would continue on foot in a vain effort to reach the safety of their territory.

The young prince urged his men forward with as much command as he urged the beast beneath him. Though Gawain and Percival were as willing as he, their horses were not. They began to slow despite Arthur's best efforts to keep them going. 

“Ride, damn it!” Arthur shouted. His horse whinnied loudly and reared up in protest. 

Overhead came the sound of the three mighty dragons that pursued them. Their wings beat a steady whooshing rhythm against the wind to keep them airborne. Arthur's horse chomped at the bit and panted from its effort to run at full speed for too long.

“What's wrong with these bloody beasts?” Gawain asked angrily—fearfully.

What will it be like to die by dragonfire? Arthur wondered.

“It's magic,” said Percival. He dismounted and drew his sword. Arthur and Gawain did likewise and came together, each man putting the other at their back so they could defend from any direction.

“Vortigern obviously sided with Thomas,” Gawain said. “Fucking blighter.” 

“Hengist probably threw in his lot with Thomas as well,” Percival added.

“Hush, both of you,” said Arthur, straining his ears to hear what happened around them.

Above them came the steady whoosh of the dragon’s wings. Arthur could see their forms through the breaks in the thick canopy of pines that rose high above them. The wind from their wings caused a tight knot to form in Arthur’s stomach. He painfully swallowed what little spit he had left.

“Females,” Arthur finally said. He could tell by the bright flecks of gold, sapphire, and emerald in their scales. This was even worse than having male dragons after them, for the females were particularly vicious. They weren’t keen on diplomacy, and the idea of granting any sort of mercy to a Pendragon would be a great source of amusement for them—after they’d burned Arthur and his men to a crisp.

“Percival!” a feminine voice called from above. “Come out, coward! Face me!”

“Allegra,” Percival said. “Mate of Kilgarrah.”

“Why is she calling for you, specifically?” Gawain asked.

Percival’s face was flushed from the cold, but it looked an even deeper shade of crimson when he said, “I destroyed her nest last year. She had six eggs. They were her last to birth.”

Gawain looked at Percival in pity. “Percival—”

“She has no idea how much I wish I’d disobeyed Uther,” said Percival.

“Disobedience to your king was not an option. It never is so stop blaming yourself,” Arthur said, but he kept one fact silent to himself: He often had the same kind of regret with regards to his father, and it had begun to happen with more frequency.

Percival suddenly thrust his sword into the frozen ground. It tipped and fell to the hard Earth despite his efforts to drive it deep enough to remain upright. He looked to the sky and shouted out to the dragons above. “Allegra!”

“What the hell are you doing? She’ll pinpoint us,” Arthur demanded.

“I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago,” answered Percival. He attempted to move away from Arthur and Gawain, toward the light of a small clearing in the pines where he would be immediately visible to Allegra and her fellows, but Arthur grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

A cry of rage and anguish came from Allegra. Arthur thought it sounded eerily similar to the sound of anguish he’d made upon his mother’s death five years previously. He could feel Allegra’s grief. He more than understood her desire for revenge, but Percival was a long time friend and Arthur wouldn’t let him sacrifice himself in this way.

“Keep your place, Percival. I command it,” said Arthur.

Nimue’s face came to mind, unbidden and unwanted. Arthur pushed her image away along with the deep regret he felt when he thought of her and her kind. 

“You will stay true to your King, Percival, or I will kill you myself!” Gawain hissed. “For God’s sake, they were eggs, nothing more!”

Arthur understood that Gawain’s anger was not on Uther’s behalf, but on behalf of himself. Percival was like a brother to them both in a way that transcended even the knighthood. Losing Percival would be a terrible blow to all of Camelot, Arthur and Gawain especially.

“I deserve to burn for what I did to her and those helpless eggs,” Percival said heavily. 

“Pull yourself together, Perce!” Arthur said desperately. “We’ll get through this, but only if we keep our heads. We need to head south, toward our—”

“Be still, Prince Arthur of Camelot. There will be no travels south. Not now.”

All three turned. A young man stood a few yards away from them, having snuck up on them as they’d conversed. He was tall and lanky, very skinny with big ears and a mop of unruly black hair that was in serious need of a trim. He had some beard stubble that softened the severe line of his jaw. His sharp overly pronounced cheekbones made him look younger than he probably was. 

“Who are you?” Arthur demanded.

“I am Merlin, the last Dragon Lord,” he said, bowing to them. 

The sound of dry tree branches splintering and raining to the ground pulled Arthur, Gawain, and Percival’s attention away from Merlin. The three of them spun on their heels as Allegra and her two companions forced their way through the trees to land in a semicircle before them. Arthur was surprised by this move. Dragons rarely came into the trees where they could be easily hindered since they couldn’t open their wings to take flight.

All escape routes were now gone. They would have to fight their way past the dragons, or past Merlin if they wanted to make a bid for freedom. Getting past Merlin would be as difficult as getting past a hundred dragons.

“There! That is the one who destroyed my children,” Allegra hissed, staring hard at Percival. If her gaze alone could burn all three of them would be piles of ash at that moment. She took in a great breath, and Arthur closed his eyes, prepared for a fiery end.

Merlin quickly spoke using some hard, guttural language, and Allegra exhaled the fire she’d intended to use to destroy Percival, Gawain, and Arthur expelled through the new clearing she and her mates created upon their landing. Some of the broken branches turned to ash even though they weren’t directly touched by the flames. 

My God, Arthur thought, as sweat broke out on his forehead. He couldn’t imagine that kind of heat in a kiln. He couldn’t imagine being capable of that kind of power. He looked at Merlin, the man who boasted complete control over that power, and he experienced a moment of awe.

“Master,” she begged plaintively. “He murdered my young. The last of my eggs! You cannot deny me vengeance. Please!”

Merlin nodded. “I know what he did to you. I am not unsympathetic, Allegra. However I have made a pact with Thomas. A man’s word is his greatest treasure, and I cannot break mine, no matter how badly I want you to have vengeance.” 

Merlin walked past Arthur and approached Allegra. He stretched out a hand and she lowered her head, which was almost as large as Merlin’s entire body, so that he could stroke the bony ridge between her eyes. She made a strange sound that sounded reminiscent of a cat purring. Merlin spoke quietly to her in guttural dragontongue—a language that he was the last to know and use now that all other dragon lords were dead. 

Allegra had a rather narrow, long snout, very delicate for one of her species. Her large eyes—a shocking and beautiful shade of green—had a distinctively feminine almond shape to them. Two long horns extended gracefully from the back of her head. She was smaller than her mate, Kilgharrah, who had also vowed vengeance against Percival, but she was no less fearsome.

“You have done well,” Merlin said in praise to them. “Return to the sanctuary. Allegra, send Kilgharrah to me. Have Fyrane and Baldyr come with him.”

With a deep bow of respect, the three dragons pushed their way through the trees they’d destroyed to land, and once the shower of broken branches settled, Merlin turned back to Arthur and his companions.

“I am the only thing that stands between you and certain death from the dragons. You would do well to cooperate, Prince Arthur.”

“If we don’t?” Gawain said. “Your dragons aren’t here now.”

A smirk passed over Merlin’s face. “I am more than able to defend against all three of you but I would rather not have to. You have entered King Thomas’s borders, a direct violation of his treaty with King Uther. He will want to see you himself. I am to take you to him.”

“He’ll kill us,” Gawain said.

“That is up to him,” Merlin replied calmly.

“I’ll take my chances here,” said Gawain.

He moved forward, sword ready, before Arthur could call him back. He got only a few steps before he fell to the ground. Vines had sprung from the earth and snaked around his feet, binding them together. Others rose from the earth and covered Gawain until he was securely tied. His sword lay a few feet away, completely useless since it was out of his reach.

“Let me go!” Gawain shouted. He’d always taken issue with being bound, or locked in rooms. Confinement was Gawain’s only fear, as far as Arthur knew. Percival knew it too.

“Release him. I promise he will not make another attempt on you,” said Arthur.

“You certainly won’t,” said Merlin. 

Immediately Arthur felt the tightness of vines sprouting from the ground to bind at his feet. He could not cut them away. Soon his entire body was constricted by the things and he lost his grip on his sword.

A feeling of deep weariness overcame Arthur. He collapsed to the hard, frozen ground of the forest floor, his vision shifting from clarity to blurriness. 

Merlin’s voice sounded distant when he said, “When you awake you will be free of your bonds.”

Arthur struggled to remain conscious but it was no good. The world blurred once more before going completely black.


Chapter two