The Calling
Chapter 22

Lord Kay crashed through the undergrowth of the forest at sight of the wolf lunging toward the young boy in the open glade. He watched as the boy held up his arms in mock surrender as he wrestled with his own sword in its scabbard. The metal gleamed as it bore free of its holster and shone in the slight sunlight cast through the thick canopy of leaves above their heads. He drove himself forward, sword thrust out before him and collided the boy, forcing him backward to the ground and held his sword aloft before the plunging beast. Blood and sinew erupted in a cavalcade of crimson as the wolf skewered itself on the end of Lord Kay’s sword and writhed in pain and agony as it slid down the blade before reaching the hilt of the weapon. Kay sagged under the weight of the animal and staggered back, sagging onto one knee and straddling the boy as the last vestiges of life ebbed from the creature impaled on his own weapon. The wolf rolled its eyes in its head and snapped futilely at the Knight as it felt the final embers of life sweeping from its body. A grimace past over Lord Kay’s face as the sudden bout of energy and the loss the life by his hands mingled and entwined together as one, then as quickly subsided.

Francis closed his eyes as the creature lunged toward him, he could feel its hot breath against his face, the rub of its thick grey fur against his body and the sharp touch of its claws scratch against his shoulders. In his mind’s eye, he could see the beast open its mouth, saliva cascading over its savage maw and sink its teeth deep into his throat, holding on as the blood seeped across its matted fur and the life drained away from his body. He could feel a heavy weight force him roughly to the floor as bodies collided, and the rush of air against his cheek as he fell heavily backward against the cold hard floor of the wood. This is it he thought and as he lay imagining the oncoming end, his thoughts strayed to his home...his mother. He hadn’t even told her that he loved her...

Francis lay there awaiting his certain death at the creature’s bite. then he felt the pressure of the large weight lift from his body followed by a gruff complaint. “Move lad!” snapped the voice. Francis hazarded opening his eyes and almost wept at the sight above him. The wolf was sprawled almost motionless on the blade of a sword, and standing...almost kneeling over him was a large thick-set man dressed in elegant Knights armour. His armour partially draped in exquisite robes of yellow as they fell away over the Knight breastplate and down past his legs. A black creature which resembled the imaginary of a dragon sat proudly on the material and fluttered under the movements of the owner as he knelt under the weight of the creature. “Come on hurry dolt!” he cursed. Francis sparked himself into action and crawled from beneath the Knight weights and moved backward as the second wolf padded across the clearing impatiently eyeing the Knight with his fallen comrade. “Tristan...!” he shouted as he pulled himself to his full height and lowered his sword to the floor, allowing he wolf to slide from the blade. Francis watched in a morbid fascination as the flesh of the creature pulled at the blade as it slid along the cold metal, smearing a crimson stain as it slowly journeyed to the floor. He stood transfixed by the sight of the wolf as it lay on the floor, a dark smear spreading and staining the glade beneath its body.

“Boy!” came the hoarse whisper from the bushes as a second Knight stepped from the undergrowth. This one was smaller in appearance and gone was the armour bore of the first, instead replaced by simple clothing made of fabric and animal skin. He stood signaling to him in a blue tunic with the hide of an animal fashioned into a designed long panel which stretched over one shoulder and trailed down to his waist where it was secure by a thick leather belt. He wore simple red hose around his legs which stretched down to a pair of leather boots on his feet. A heavy scabbard hung limply around his waist and from its leather strapping, the thick sword had been drawn and was currently being held by the Knight as he stepped forward between Francis and the second wolf. The two men stood facing the woman as she quietly seethed at the death of the animal in the clearing.

“My Lords...” she whispered quietly as they stood side by side, the larger Knight dwarfing the second.

“Morgan...” said the smaller Knight as he watched the slow tracking of the second wolf.

“Do not fear me” she said, “for I have no quarrel with thee my Lord...I am here only for the boy”

“Then let us past” commented Tristan.

“You think me simple” spat Morgan, “I know why thee are in the forest” she looked at Francis cowering behind the Knight as she spoke, “you wish the same prize as I do”

“Then you will know, we cannot succumb to your wishes good Lady” replied Tristan politely. “We are here to see the boy comes to no harm”

Morgan spied the blood on Kay’s sword and stepped back, the second wolf close in tow, “it is not my wish to enter the fray at a disadvantage my Lords...but be warned there shall be a reckoning” she pointed at Francis as she moved backwards into the trees, the wolf circling her as she glided through the wood.

“That was good fortune my Lord Kay” remarked Tristan as Morgan disappeared through the woods.

“Ay, that it was...” agreed the larger Knight as his gaze turned back to the fallen corpse of the wolf at their feet. He looked sadly at the animal, “tis not right” he complained, “the creature was helpless in its actions”

“’Twas not your fault” commented Tristan as he rested a hand on the other Knight’s arm.

“The creature was dumb in its actions...and you are right Tristan it was not my fault” he rounded on Francis savagely and spat his words with venom toward him, “’Twas yours...” the force of the words took Francis back and he recoiled under the intensity, the weight of the burden of the creature’s death weighing heavy in the accusation.

“What...No it wasn’t” he stammered.

“If thee had not been foolish enough to walk abroad then thee creature would not have fallen foul to the dementia of Morgan. Do thee not understand the perils of the forest!” Kay demanded.

“Yes...no... yes...I mean...I don’t know anymore” Francis felt flustered under the stare of the two Knights. “This is England” he offered meekly, “we don’t have wild animals like wolves roaming the woods”

“These woods are rife with creatures such as this” scoffed Kay kicking the carcass of the dead animal.

“Not anymore” insisted Francis, “there might have been in your day but...” his words died in his throat as Lord Kay stared down at him.

“The boy could be right” offered Tristan, placing a hand on his arm. “I grew up in these woods and I have seen hide nor hair of any beast. No deer, no wolves, no boar, I see and nothing” he looked at Kay sadly, “times have changed my old friend”

Kay looked up at the sky through the canopy and spied the darkening clouds gathering above their heads, “Aye...perhaps thee are correct my Lord, but I do know that there is evil abroad in these parts” he looked at Francis, “if thoust truly are who Merlin says you are, then we must make haste. The woods are not the place to be caught in a downpour”. He sheaved his mighty sword, wiping the blade of the blood and turned back to the undergrowth and peered through the dense covering. “The path has disappeared...” he mused as vine and branch stretched out over the reaching for the clearing.

“The plants...” whispered Francis.

“Aye they are moving...” breathed Kay as he watched the slow progression of vegetation as it spread across the ground toward their feet.

“What witchcraft is this?” asked Tristan as he backed into his larger comrade, sword in hand and pointing out into the forest.

“Morgan...” whispered Kay, withdrawing his sword once again. Francis peered silently above their heads into the branches of the trees and watched in morbid fascination as they grew before his eyes extending over the skyline, blotting out the rays of the sun. Around his feet creepers stretched and pulled across the dirty brown floor, flowers craned their stems to stare venomously at the three men in the clearing, their heads glaring at them while thorns reached and grasped at their clothing. The three men backed slowly into the center of the glade, their backs pressed hard against each other’s as the relentless march of the plant life continued, vine, creeper, thorns, all reaching out with murderous intent. Francis lifted his feet to avoid the sprawling mass of roots snaking its way across the ground and watched as thorns grew and protruded from the vegetation searching for the men. He felt a brush against his arm and cast a glance downward, recoiling in horror as ivy wrapped and coiled around his wrist, before twisting up his arm. The vine tightened as it crawled slowly up his arm and reached over his chest confining his movement and pulling tight over his body. He could see similar situations happening to his comrades.

Vines and trails of creeper and ivy snaked up the legs of the two Knights holding them transfixed to the spot and leaves and flowers erupted as a symphony of pollen clouded the atmosphere around them. He could see Kay pull hard against the roots which held him and twisted around his torso, restricting his breathing and pulling him slowly to the ground. Tristan swiped with his sword and great leaves sprouted from the ground and pressed against his body, surrounding and covering his neat clothing. His face contorted with fear as the leaves swamped over his body and engulfed him in a twisted parody of a closing bulb. The sword struggled to penetrate the hide of the plants as it covered his body...

Francis could feel the sharp stab at his arms and hands as the thorns spread from the roots and dug into his skin, opening his pours and delivering a thick red liquid over the vines. His face stung with the bittersweet taste of his tears as his vision blurred with the fragrance of the forest and he felt his legs sag under the intense pressure of the entwining vines. He could feel his lungs burning as the air was slowly squeezed from his body and darkness threatened to engulf him...