Merlin: Dawn of the Dragonlord

Chapter 19: The Tower

Chapter 19: The Tower

The Eastern Tower had seen many battles.  The stone steps to reach the top were mostly worn out and the walls were blackened by fire.  One could easily tell that the main part of the keep had once been beautiful. Now the tower was little more than a ruin.  The statues and gargoyles were absent from the many windows gazing out at the valley; few pieces of them remained but only limbs, never their whole bodies.  A huge chunk of rock was missing from the highest rampart, a knocked down tooth, and it gave the tower an ominous look, the carcass of some monster, forgotten by time.

Lately, however, a figure could be seen regularly standing at the top of the tower or sitting casually on the rampart, with eyes fixed on the horizon, searching for something that normal men could not see.

“I do hate it when you make me climb all the way up here,” said Galahad wearily as he reached the top of the stairs.

Merlin Brittanicus had heard the knight’s unsteady steps but he had not bothered to stand up and bow to the nobleman.  Sir Galahad would not have tolerated it.  He had been the first knight of Aria’s Cradle to recognize him as an equal.

“I’m interrupting some deep thought, aren’t I?” asked the knight from behind him.  “Are you trying to call the Great Dragon again?”

The young warlock shook his head.  “I thought that he may have followed Arthur here.  I told him to go back to Camelot and stand guard.  It seemed logical that he would return now.”

He heard the clunk clunk of Galahad’s walking stick as the knight advanced to stand next to him.

“One cannot guess the thinking of dragons,” he said solemnly.

Merlin glanced momentarily at the knight.  “That’s kind of part of the job description, you know – Dragonlord.  There’s a bit about dragons,” he replied pointedly.

He turned around to face Galahad, feeling as though he had had this conversation before, but otherwise glad for the company.

“How do you do it?” asked Galahad.

“Well, I don’t really think.  I just talk and sometimes stuff comes out that’s a bit funny and…”

“I mean calling the dragon!” burst out Galahad, suppressing a laugh.

“Oh… that.  I just sort of reach out with my mind and he’s supposed to be there.”

That part made Merlin uneasy.  He had tried day after day to get in touch with the dragon just like he had in the cave.  Yet the only image that he got was a black blur as though Kilgarrah was sleeping or hiding, if that was possible.  It had been the same ever since his arrival at Aria’s Cradle.  

“I wish there was a book about the art of the Dragonlords that I could tell you to read.  Unfortunately, the tradition of passing down knowledge from father to son can lead to these kinds of very poor results.”

Merlin couldn’t help but grin.  Galahad had a lot in common with Gaius; mainly, his love for logic, science and mostly books, which Merlin found extremely weird for a knight.  

“What would be your diagnosis, then?” asked Merlin smartly.

“I’m not sure I have a diagnosis, but I certainly know the cause.  Get out of this godforsaken valley – and then try to call him again,” replied Galahad.

“That’s not going to happen unless I manage to free the valley of that curse,” snorted the young warlock.

“My point exactly,” uttered Galahad.