“What do you want?” Arthur asked.
“The key. I will keep it safe.”
“My people will keep the key safe,” Arthur replied, his eyes shifting up to the dark clouds. “Merlin gave it to me to offset the Grail. It was never intended to be used, and it hasn’t been. You don’t even know what it really does.”
“Merlin should never have unearthed the key or the Grail,” Brynn said. “He is one of those that upset the balance in the first place.”
“I tried to do good,” Arthur said. “To rectify what was done. To restore the balance.”
There was a commotion among the knights watching the water, cries of alarm that Brynn and Arthur could hear.
“And what if the others get here first?” Brynn hissed. “A ship bearing Mordred’s insignia has just been sighted offshore approaching quickly. Would you give them Excalibur and what it controls? I promise to keep the key safe inside the Tor. They will never find it. And when your people come at the anointed time, I will give it to them. Remember — we only watch, we do not choose sides.”
“No?”
Brynn placed his hand on Arthur’s forehead. “You will be dead soon.”
“I will not give it to you.”
Brynn’s hand slid down and with two fingers he snatched at Arthur’s left eye before the king could react. Between his fingers dangled a small sliver of blue; a contact lens, incongruous with the armor and other accoutrements. Arthur blinked and his eyes opened wide, revealing a red pupil within a red iris. The pupil was a shade darker than the iris and elongated vertically like a cat’s.
Brynn cocked his head, indicating the knights. “I will show them what you really are. You cannot allow that. What good you have done, what you are so proud of, would be washed away with that truth. You will be remembered as a monster, not a king. Not as the leader of the Round Table, which you worked so hard to establish.”
Arthur closed his eyes, pain finally beginning to show on his face. “What about the Grail?”
“Mordred’s men had it briefly, but they did not know what it was or have time to take it to him. He too lies dying. One of my order was in their camp and recovered the Grail. He will take it far from here. We will return everything to the way it was.”
“Do not lie to me.”
“I swear on my ring—” Brynn held a metal ring in front of the king’s face, a ring with a human eye, etched on the surface “—and on my order and on my son, the next Brynn, the next Watcher of Yniswitrin, that I speak the truth.”
One of the knights cried out from the Tor’s tower, warning that the ship bearing Mordred’s colors was about to land.
Arthur’s voice was low, as if he were speaking to himself. “That is all I sought by coming to England. To reinstate order, and maybe help your people a little.”
“Then let me finish it,” Brynn argued. “Let me restore the truce, Artad’s Shadow.”
The king started at the mention of his true identity. “You must keep that secret. I have worked very hard for a very long time to keep that secret from men.”
“I will if you give me the key. There is not much time. I must get back inside the Tor to keep Mordred’s men from getting the key.” Arthur’s hand released its grip. “Take it.”
Brynn placed Excalibur under his robe, tight against his body. As he prepared to stand, Arthur grabbed his arm. “Keep your word, Watcher. You know I will be back.”
Brynn nodded. “I know that. It is written that your war will come again, not like this, but covering the entire planet. And when that happens, I know you will return.”
A weary smile crossed Arthur’s lips. “It is a war beyond the planet, Watcher. Beyond the planet in ways you could not conceive of. Your people still know so little. Even on Atlantis your ancestors knew nothing of reality, of the universe. Merlin was foolish to try to take the Grail. Its time has not come yet.”
“We know enough,” Brynn said. He stood and quickly walked through the doorway. It swung shut behind him with a solid thud.
Percival approached the king. “Sire, the enemy approaches. We must move you.”
Arthur shook his head, his eyes closed tightly. “No. I will stay here. All of you go. Spread the story of what we tried to do. Tell of the good, of the code of honor. Leave me here. I will be gone shortly.”
The protests were immediate, Percival foremost among them. “Sire, we will fight Mordred’s traitors to the death. Our lives for yours.”
“No. It is my last command. You will obey it as you have obeyed all my other commands.”
Only then did Percival notice the sword was gone. “Excalibur! Where is it?”
“The monk has it.” Arthur’s voice was very low now. “He will keep it safe until it is needed again. I will return. I promise you that. Go now! Escape while you can and tell the world of the good deeds we did.”
One by one, the surviving knights bid their king farewell and slipped into the storm, disappearing over the western side of the hill until only Percival remained. He came to the king, kneeling next to him. “Sire.”
Arthur didn’t open his eyes., “Percival, you must leave also. You have been my most faithful knight, but I release you from your service.”
“I swore an oath,” Percival said, “never to abandon you. I will not now, my Lord.”
“You must. It will do you no good to stay. You cannot be here when they come for me.”
“I will fight Mordred’s men.”
“I do not speak of those slaves who blindly obey with no free will.”
Percival frowned. “Who comes for you, then?”
Arthur reached up and grabbed his knight’s arm. “There is something you can do, Percival. Something I want you to do. A quest.”
Percival placed his hand over the blood-spattered one of his king. “Yes, Lord?”
“Search for the Grail.”
“The Grail is but a legend—” Percival began, but Arthur cut him off.
“The Grail is real. It is—” the king seemed to be searching for the right words. “It is the source of all knowledge. To one who knows its secret, it brings immortality. It is beyond anything you have experienced, what any man has experienced.”
A glimmer of hope came alive in the despair that had shadowed Percival’s eyes since removing Arthur from the field of battle. “Where is this Grail, my Lord? Where should I search?”
“That you must discover on your own. It is spoken of in many lands and has traveled far — here and there — over the years. But trust me, it does exist. It will be well guarded. And if you find it—” Arthur paused.
“Yes, my Lord?”
“If you find it, you must not touch it. You must guard it as you have guarded me. Will you do that for me?”
“I do not want to abandon you, my Lord.”
“You will not be abandoning me. I go to a better place. Do as I have ordered.”
Slowly and reluctantly, Percival stood, bent over, his hand still in the king’s. “I will begin the quest you have commanded me to pursue.”
Arthur tightened his grip. “My knight, there is something you must remember in your quest.”
“Yes, Lord?”
“You can trust no one. Deception has always swirled about the Grail. Be careful.” He released Percival. “Go now! I order you to go!”
Percival leaned farther over and lightly kissed his king’s forehead, then stood and departed.
Arthur was alone on the top of the Tor. Only then did he open his eyes once more. He could hear yells from the eastern slope — Mordred’s mercenaries and mental slaves climbed the steep hillside, but his eyes remained focused at the sky above, waiting.
A metallic, golden orb three feet in diameter darted out of the clouds and came to an abrupt halt, hovering ten feet above Arthur. It stayed there for a few seconds, then without a sound, sped to the east. There were flashes of light in that direction, screams of surprise and terror, then silence from the rebel warriors. Arthur was now the only one alive on the Tor.