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Within the hour they had left to search for Elan, Filtiarn, and the mysterious woman. There were seven of them: Arthur, Tom, Merlin, Beansprout, Woodsmoke, Brenna and Bloodmoon, racing on horseback across the moors to Inglewood. They had no idea what to expect so were all heavily armed, and supplied with food, water and bedding.
The day was again hot, and they were relieved to enter Inglewood. As they descended into the valley the temperature dropped, and the black shadows beneath the trees hijacked the sunlight. Arthur rode ahead with Woodsmoke, while Tom kept to the rear with Bloodmoon. The trees thickened and they slowed their pace. Even though Tom hunted here regularly, he still found it a bewildering place. Large rocks and misshapen trees provided landmarks, but he still felt he could easily get lost in here.
Arthur was aiming for the place where they normally saw the boar. Elusive though it was, it seemed to favour a certain part of the wood. And it was close to where Tom had been surrounded by the wolves.
“I recognise this place,” Arthur said. “But there’s a path I don’t remember seeing before.” He pointed to where a barely-there path snaked into the undergrowth.
“It could be a trap,” Brenna said, drawing her horse to a halt.
The others did the same, and Merlin moved next to Arthur, holding a hand up for silence. He sat silently, his head bowed, his hair covering his face. For a few moments he listened intently and then said, “Let me lead.”
Woodsmoke was about to protest but Merlin fixed him with a piercing glare, and he fell into step behind him with a nod and a sigh.
They followed in single file, as the path eventually led to a clearing in which was a stagnant pool. Beyond it was a rocky mound with a cave in it, the entrance dark and overgrown with bushes.
“I don’t recognise this place,” Arthur murmured.
As they entered the clearing a strange green smoke started to rise from the ground, eddying across the rocks and bushes and the surface of the pool, reaching out towards their horses. In response Merlin raised his hands and started an incantation, his voice soft and seductive. Immediately the smoke stopped, as if it had hit an invisible wall. Beyond this, it thickened.
Instinctively they started to retreat, but after only a few paces the white wolves emerged from the trees behind them, bellies low and teeth barred. Goosebumps rose up Tom’s neck as they were forced back towards the pool, weapons ready, bunching up behind Merlin.
Arthur turned to Merlin. “What’s that smoke? Can we get through it?”
“No. And stop asking questions,” Merlin muttered. He continued to chant, his hands raised, and the invisible wall moved away from them, pushing the murky green smoke back, allowing them to edge forward uncertainly.
A young woman emerged from the cave. Her long silky red hair snaked down her back, almost to the floor, and she wore a black velvet gown edged with sable. It was the woman from the orchard. Elan stepped out behind her.
“Who are you that brings such powerful magic to my grove?” she said, her voice loud and clear.
“I am Merlin; prophet, sorcerer and advisor to the court of Arthur Pendragon, Boar of Cornwall, Dragon Slayer, bearer of Excalibur.” Although his eyes never left her face, his hands continued to weave his magic. “But I think you know that. And you are?”
“I am Rahal, Guardian of the Wolf Mage,” she said. “You must be the one responsible for protecting the boy over there. There are faces I recognise from our encounter in your grounds.”
“The Wolf Mage,” Arthur repeated, nodding as their assumptions were proved correct. “So it is about him. I do not appreciate the games, Rahal. You have attacked us, grievously. What do you want?”
“Galatine. It belongs to us.” She lifted her head, her eyes flashing.
“Why didn’t you come and ask for it?”
“I shouldn’t need to ask for it. It is Filtiarn’s to take. And I will take it for him.”
She again raised her hands as if to strike with magic, but in a flash Merlin launched a flaming arrow straight through the invisible wall towards her, dispelling the green smoke and causing Rahal to shriek curses at them.
The wolves hurtled towards them in a flash of fur and teeth. Tom swiped at the first one as it leapt at his throat, and sent it whirling backward. The others were also fighting frantically, arrow after arrow flying into the wolves, a few falling dead around them. Furiously fighting and trying to control Midnight, who was bucking with fear, Tom didn’t at first realise he was getting cut off from the group. He tried to make his way back as Bloodmoon fought his way over, Woodsmoke next to him, yelling, “Tom, get behind us. They want your sword.”
Tom heard a scream, and Elan shouting, “Stop, stop!”
He glanced round and saw Merlin standing over Rahal’s unconscious body, Elan at her side.
“What have you done?” Elan cried.
Merlin was furious. “She was trying to kill us!”
“She was trying to protect Filtiarn,” he said, leaping to his feet, sword drawn.
“No – she was trying to steal Galatine! Call the wolves off, Elan,” Arthur said, his sword at Rahal’s throat, “or I’ll kill her right now.”
Elan glared at Arthur, and then yelled something at the wolves in a language Tom didn’t understand. Immediately the wolves withdrew, growling and snarling in a semi-circle in front of them. Elan continued Rahal’s argument. “It’s our sword; we have a right to it.”
“You do not have a right to knock people unconscious for it!” Arthur said, towering over Elan. “Did you not think of asking, of telling us of your plight and the curse upon Filtiarn?”
Elan faltered, “You know of the curse? No-one should know that, it’s a family secret.”
“Well we know. Repeated attacks upon us made us look into Galatine’s past. You should know right now, that I do not tolerate attacks upon my friends or household, and you should be very careful what you do in the future.”
Elan stepped back a pace, but his expression remained mutinous.
Arthur turned to Woodsmoke and Bloodmoon. “Check around the back of this rocky mound, I want to make sure there are no more surprises.”
They nodded and set off, swords drawn.
Arthur turned to Elan. “Where’s Filtiarn?”
Elan nodded behind him. “He’s in the cave.” Looking nervous he raised his sword as if prepared to fight. “Do you mean to attack him?”
Arthur snorted. “Great Herne, no! We are here to help, you stupid boy. Although,” he looked at Elan’s sword, “if you keep pointing that at me I might change my mind.”
Elan nervously re-sheathed his sword. He didn’t look keen for a fight, and Tom didn’t blame him. No-one in their right mind should want to fight Arthur.
“When will Filtiarn change form?” Arthur asked, returning Excalibur to its scabbard.
“Tonight, midnight as the Wolf Moon begins.” Elan hesitated. “We think so, anyway. Neither of us was around the last time he changed form.”
Merlin straightened and peered at Elan, Rahal still unconscious at his feet. “So you have no idea what to expect?”
Elan shook his head looking suddenly young and vulnerable.
“Show me to him,” Merlin said, and Elan led him into the cave.
Arthur turned to Tom. “Go with him, I’ll watch Rahal.”
The cave was dark, and a small fire smouldered to the rear. The smoke wound its way up to a narrow vent in the roof, but eddies of it drifted around, and Tom’s eyes started to smart.
Filtiarn wasn’t far from the entrance. He lay on his side, his huge mass stretched out across the floor, an earthy musky smell emanating from him, adding to the stink of the cave.
“Have you been living here?” Merlin asked Elan, kneeling at Filtiarn’s side.
He nodded. “For a few months, ever since we heard about Galatine.” He looked at Tom and then the sword at his side. “Is that Galatine?”
“Yes.”
“May I look at it?”
Tom glanced at Merlin. At his nod, he took it from its scabbard and handed it to Elan, who turned it over, examining it minutely in the dim light.
“Have you any idea how long we’ve been looking for this?” he asked, relief evident in his face.
“We have a rough idea,” Tom said. “We’re thinking close to four thousand years.”
“Close enough. Long enough that we need to break the curse or he may not live another thousand years.” He sighed. “My family history says that the last time he returned to human form he was wild, almost inhuman, and mad with grief.” He looked at Tom. “Do I have to give it back?”
“For now.” Tom took Galatine and returned it to its scabbard. “And why are you helping Filtiarn?”
“Every new generation, two guardians are assigned to Filtiarn. I’m one of them.”
Tom couldn’t help but notice he didn’t look pleased with the job. “And who’s Rahal?”
“My cousin. She was chosen for her knowledge of magic, and I was chosen for my skills with the sword. The old guardians died, and the new ones are always young. Rahal, however, is senior to me.”
As much as Tom was mad at Elan for attacking him during the tournament, he felt sorry for him. “It must be a hard job.”
“It’s a thankless task,” he agreed, annoyed and sulky.
“Do you know how to break the spell?” asked Merlin.
“Not really. Only that we need the sword. We hoped it would become clear when we had it.”
Tom felt his heart sink. No-one seemed to know how to break the curse.
Merlin groaned, looking incredulous. “Haven’t you any books or histories to refer to?”
“No!” Elan’s voice rose in alarm and distress. “When it first happened, Filtiarn just disappeared. Of course no-one knew where he had gone. And then when he did return, after that first thousand years, he was so mad at his brother’s deception that he didn’t want to share anything. Apparently.”
Filtiarn stirred and rolled in his sleep, and then his eyes fluttered open.
“I’m going to try something,” Merlin said. In a flash he changed form, and now two boars were lying on the floor of the cave, snorting softly to each other.
Tom tried to reassure Elan, who if anything looked more alarmed than before. “It’s what he does,” Tom said, shrugging. “He shape-shifts. Tell me more.”
“I don’t know what more I can say. He lives in and around our family castle, roaming the woods and grounds, along with a pack of wolves. Every thousand years he changes form, returning only briefly to our home, and then he searches, endlessly, for Giolladhe. Guardians were assigned to watch over him, to help search for the sword with him, and to continue the search when he is in animal form. When he found out Giolladhe had given Galatine to the Lady of the Lake, he thought everything was lost. We thought everything was lost. But now it’s back, you understand why we had to come for it ...” Elan’s voice trailed off.
“You should have come to us,” Tom repeated.
Elan’s voice dropped and he couldn’t look at Tom. “To speak of the curse outside the family is to risk death. Both for us and you.”
“Why?”
“Our family is proud. To admit that one brother double-crossed another is too embarrassing. Especially two very famous brothers whose deeds are well known across the Realms.”
Tom gasped, trying to ignore the snorting and snuffling coming from Merlin and Filtiarn. “Are you kidding me? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. It was forever ago!”
“My father doesn’t think so. Our family may have fallen on hard times, but the family pride remains. Things will change now we have the sword. We can pretend you don’t know anything, and that we managed to steal it.”
“But you don’t know the spell. And neither does he by the sound of it. And there’s nothing inscribed on the sword that will help break it.”
“At least we have the sword!”
Tom felt his frustration growing. “Elan, I don’t think you can do this without us. It may not look like it, but Merlin is one of the greatest sorcerers ever.” They turned to look at Merlin and Filtiarn, as they shuffled to their feet and waddled out of the cave.
“Really?”
“Yes! You need him to undo the spell. Especially if Rahal can’t do it.”
“My father will kill us.”
“I think he’d be angrier still if you let this opportunity pass. You said it yourself. Filtiarn may not survive to see another Wolf Moon.”
Elan looked out of the cave, clearly wondering what he should do.
Tom patted him on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s see what the others are up to.”
