Side One Hundred And Forty – Princess Eleanor Elizabeth Diana Windsor / Prince Henry Philip Charles Windsor
“Is this safe?” Melissa asked, her tone rather worried, as Eleanor paced the richly-appointed sitting room of the Palace restlessly. Seeing her being clearly worried for Henry, Eleanor managed a slight smile. Though I hardly feel in the mood for good cheer. This whole situation is horribly draining…
“Safe? I wouldn’t say that.” Eleanor admitted. “The shadow of London is a dangerous place, it’s why I didn’t want Henry to put on airs and try to impress us.” On seeing alarm cross Melissa’s features, Eleanor softened her tone. “But within my Avalon, where I’ve laid my banner, there shouldn’t really be too much to worry about. The energy of my Avalon keeps out my enemies, and we have been setting up a number of defences. He’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”
“I still don’t understand all this.” Melissa muttered. “It seems unbelievable. Other worlds, mystical powers. How is it that nobody knows about this?”
“It’s hardly nobody.” Eleanor disagreed. “Those in power, those with wealth and connections, they are usually the first to find out. But everybody wants to keep the status quo as much as possible.”
“Why?” she persisted. “Doesn’t everybody need to know about this? How is it fair to keep such knowledge to ourselves?”
“Fair? It’s not really a question of fair.” Eleanor eyed her brother, who was breathing softly, as though asleep. “Can you imagine it? The civil unrest, the chaos? Grandmother, the Prime Minister, father, they all agree that we need to assess the situation and make preparation before the revelations come out. We aren’t alone in that. America, Japan, France, other countries… everybody is scrambling to put measures in place, to prevent panic.” Her smile turned bitter. “Some more than others. We are quite good at gathering those Chosen by the Gods, but unlike Japan we haven’t been able to pass any suitable laws yet. Damn the press.”
“It still doesn’t seem real, but…” Melissa managed a smile. “Seeing you lift Henry and that table so effortlessly… you could be an Olympic gold-medallist easily enough.”
“I daresay that the Olympics will have to change.” Eleanor snorted, amused. “But then, if I recall my history, weren’t the Olympics dedicated to the Gods of Greece? So maybe it’ll just be getting back to its roots…” There were loud footsteps outside the room now, and raised voices. Meanwhile, behind her, Melissa was looking at Henry, a concerned expression on her face. She reached down and wiped at his nose, revealing a trace of crimson on her fingers.
“Uh, Eleanor, Henry’s bleeding?” she said, tone shrill, and Eleanor turned, her sapphire eyes narrowing.
“Let me see.” She saw the gleam of red on Melissa’s fingers, before looking at Henry, tilting his head back. There was indeed some blood leaking from his nose, just a trickle. “Maybe a nosebleed, could be coincidence…” she said, that uneasy feeling returning. “But I don’t trust coincidences, not today…”
As she was gently tilting her brother’s head to look in his ears, the hurried conversations outside were becoming annoying. Concentrating, she realised she could hear snatches of conversation, despite the very good soundproofing of the sitting room.
“… Tower of London, it’s a disaster.”
“… Her majesty has summoned the Prime Minister.”
“… all over the news, London is in a panic…”
Just what is going on? The buzzing of unease at her Territory being attacked had intensified so much Eleanor was now sure something had gone badly wrong. As she turned Henry’s head she could see a faint glitter of red within his ear. Henry, you reckless fool… “Quick, turn on the Television!” Eleanor hissed, and after being stunned for a moment, Melissa raced over to the large flatscreen and turned it on, BBC News coming up after she pressed a button. The view immediately changed to one of London, the Tower of London, in fact. A reporter was talking over photographs of the scene, where a number of soldiers were keeping everybody out, while ambulances were parked up with flashing blue lights, wounded Beefeaters… No, SAS soldiers… being carried in by frantic paramedics, while other bodies, wrapped in sheets that were already starting to darken with liquid, were being carried to a parked military vehicle.
“… as you can see from the scene…” the reporter was saying, her voice cracking despite her professionalism, a tone of grim wonder totally at odds with the images. “… a terrorist attack defying belief has occurred at the Tower of London. Fortunately, no members of the public were on site during the incident, as the Tower had been undertaking an unscheduled closure, perhaps due to advance warning of such a threat. If so, the Government has questions to answer…”
What happened? It’s not coincidence… the footage was picking up the broken door to the main Tower, with ominous red splashes across the broken metal and stone. Henry! Panic was rising, and not just in Eleanor, as Melissa had already realised that Henry must have been in danger, just from the little Eleanor had shared.
“Henry! Henry!” she wailed, starting to shake him by his arm, and Eleanor gently reached out and grabbed her shoulder. Melissa instantly struck her hand away, before her eyes cleared and she apologised, her tone still distraught.
“It’s all right. I understand.” Eleanor said urgently. “But he’s not sleeping! You can’t wake him up like that. Henry, the damn fool, the minute he saw there was a danger, he should have come back. Always so reckless…” Eleanor’s lip was bleeding and healing alternately as her teeth worried it nervously. The news was continuing behind her, displaying footage of a single man wrapped in a dark cloak somehow surviving being shot at by the soldiers dressed as Beefeaters at the Gate to the Tower, silver sparks flashing, as though the bullets were deflecting off armour.
“What do we do?” Melissa was crying now, and Eleanor felt a pain in her temples, taking a deep, long breath to steady her racing heart.
“We don’t panic. Henry could return at any minute. But whatever happens, I have to go. It’s clear that everything is going very wrong.” She shook her head, rebinding her hair into a ponytail with a ribbon, preparing herself for battle. Picking up the old rotary-style phone on the table beside her, she dialled, and soon she was speaking to her grandmother.
“Granddaughter, you’ve seen the news?” her grandmother said, tone strained, and she replied swiftly.
“Yes, it’s hard to avoid it, the Palace is in uproar! My Avalon is under attack, and worse… Henry, he went in to take a peek, he said, just to set my mind at ease, and he hasn’t come back! I can’t just sit here in the Palace while everything collapses!”
There was silence for a moment, before the Queen spoke. “Granddaughter, the situation is about more than just us. But my foolish grandson… he was always too reckless. I worried when he was in the army, and now…” her voice faltered.
“Grandmother…” Eleanor said urgently, as the television continued to show the scene from the Tower, tanks and other heavy military ordinance surrounding the building. “I need Sir Arthur and the others back. I don’t think I can do this alone. We need to respond!”
“It seems that the Japanese were right about there being danger, granddaughter.” The Queen said gravely. “If that is the case, perhaps they are right about the other things they talked about, such as the danger of betrayal. Granddaughter, I can’t risk you, even… even for this.”
“That’s wrong!” Eleanor shouted, surprising the frightened and desperate Melissa, who was alternating looking between Henry, whose hand she was clutching in hers, and the television with its litany of grim, shocking news. “Grandmother, we bear the responsibility for what lies beneath the Tower in that shadow of London. It’s more precious than our lives, you told me. Even bitter enemies, regicides and usurpers were told the secret. Is my life worth more than theirs?” My hands are shaking, I’m sweating, I feel sick. But I am the Green Knight. I can do this. Besides, am I any less brave than Akio, or that maid, or those two schoolgirls? Her thoughts turned to the sly, irritating smile on his face as he lectured her, as well as the bitter, surly vitriol that the Fae maid Hyacinth directed to her. That’s loyalty. She cares for him a lot. Raidre… well, our relationship is rather more mutually beneficial, but even now, are he and his people fighting a desperate battle?
“Grandmother, I shall take his warnings to heart and be cautious, but… even, even if I’m wrong and I’ve been betrayed, it won’t be all of them. Better some of us are there than…” her words were cut off by a loud scream from Melissa, whose normally coffee-coloured skin had somehow turned pale. She was still holding Henry’s hand, but now it wasn’t attached to his body, instead the arm was flopping in her grip, blood gushing to the ground. A leg fell free as well, and Henry was shuddering, pale as a ghost. Melissa turned, vomiting onto the bloodstained floor, and Eleanor froze for a moment.
“Grandmother! Henry is dying! Get Mary-Jane here now!” she roared, adrenaline and fear pushing her to action. Seizing her older brother’s body, she tightened her grip against his stumps, crushing flesh and bone together, a crude torniquet for the wounds. It’ll cause more damage to him, but if he bleeds out, it’s over. “As for the others, it’s not a matter of whether they’ll betray me or not!” she spat, her hands covered in blood, tears running down her cheeks, anger, frustration and helplessness mixing together into a maelstrom threating to engulf her. If only I could heal like Akio can. I could help Henry hang on… but even if I do, if he takes more wounds there… “Henry is in Avalon! If he’s wounded there, it means the defences have fallen! The Tower could fall!”
“I…” her grandmother hesitated, unusual for her, and the moment of delay was causing Eleanor physical pain. “I’ll send them. But we are testing them on a site several miles from here, it will take a few minutes…”
“No time!” Eleanor shouted. “I’ll go myself for now. Please, grandmother. This time… I need your support, even if I’m being reckless.” Her trepidation was replaced by a cold, icy feeling. Perhaps this is what it is truly like to bear the weight of a country on my shoulders? The Tower… I have to enter Avalon there to get the best benefits, but… Her gaze flickered to the television, and she made up her mind. Caution, trust but not blindly. In that case…
“Melissa, stay here. A healer is coming, she can stop Henry bleeding out. He’s a tough one, I promise you that, more so now than ever. I’ll go and send him back, while a friend of mine comes and saves him. As for the missing limbs…” she shook her head. There are ways. I know it…
“Eleanor, you…” Melissa managed brokenly, her eyes dead, cradling the severed arm. Sorry, there’s no time…
“I’ll put an end to this, and the uncertainty.” Eleanor promised, as she ran from the room, her speed exceeding even the greatest of marathon runners. There’s no time for subtlety, or keeping this hidden. Mary Stuart, Max Power, whoever you are… this will not stand! Henry, my idiot brother, you are supposed to be getting married! I know in the army they joke that’s a death flag, but this is just too much!
She ignored the shouts and screams of panicking Palace staff as she raced through the halls and out into the grounds. Sprinting towards the walls surrounding the grounds, she ignored the flashes of cameras and the filming news crews outside as she vaulted over them, despite them towering greater than her height. As she landed heavily, she hurried eastwards, ignoring shouts and cries of those calling out to her…
Henry, Raidre… hang on! I’m coming! She clenched her fist, a cold anger simmering. Perhaps this was why I was chosen by the Green Man. For this day, to make this right. No matter the cost to me…
********
Henry screamed, a heart-wrenching roar of pain, as his leg came free, joining his arm on the ground below, the dark floor, made from interlocking tiles in an odd, Celtic knotwork-style pattern, now soaked with puddles of red blood, silver mist rising from it. Even so, he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the bastard that had casually disarmed him. Dis-legged me too. Sorry Ellie, Mel. Looks like I really am as stupid as the tabloids say.
Having followed the cloaked figure into the Tower to get a better look at him, Henry had been surprised to see it wasn’t Max Power, at least, the look was different, with a pale face, pitch dark hair and eyes that seemed to vary between blue, green, brown and black depending on the angle of the light. Henry, having seen all he needed to, tried to expel his aether as taught, the curse on him from Mary Stuart fading, and then the figure had laughed. Several ravens flew down from the flock around the tower to attack the intruder, but as he lashed out, hand shining silver, turning into a great whip that struck out, shredding them into a tide of black feathers, the silver strands had darted out, faster than Henry could blink, ensnaring him, dragging him inside.
The Tower feels strange. Powerful, somehow. Even now, the pain searing through his mutilated body distracting him, Henry could feel the weight of power from below prickling him. It was as if the country itself, no, all the life in it, trees, flowers, grass, insects, animals, even humans, was weighing down his shoulders. At the time the feeling had confused Henry, and he wondered if it was the Holy Grail, as Mary Stuart had called it.
“I won’t help you.” Henry spat blood, and the figure, who surprisingly, it turned out, was the being masquerading as Max Power, just in his true, original form, merely laughed.
“I can always take an eye this time.” he said coolly. “I do not see why you are being so stubborn. I have told you, I am not here for the Cauldron of Bran which you foolish inheritors of my family protect. Such power is beyond my scope. Besides, my Aunt would be most wroth.” He shook his head, and Henry, still prevented from leaving by the energy within the silver whip, which twisted and moved as if it was an extension of his kidnapper’s body, gave out. “No, I am only here to claim my share of the treasures of Geas from this place. If there are none for me, I will not be able to take them, you know this.” He smiled so innocently, but Henry had tasted the pain behind that smile.
“I don’t understand…” Henry began. Like all villains, Henry had discovered that Max… might as well call him that for now, for simplicity’s sake. … liked the sound of his own voice rather too much. “… from what you’ve said, nothing makes sense! How can you be our ancestors?”
“Not ancestors. Antecedents. The Royal line has changed a number of times over the long centuries. But mine is older than yours. Though it vanished in the dusts of betrayal and history.” He snorted. “Now, are you going to open the way? In the Material world, I have been stymied, but the items exist here too.”
What would Ellie do? She’s brighter than me, not that that’s hard. I know! Buy time! Find out intelligence! That’s the military way. After all, I did say this was reconnaissance! Fortunately, he didn’t think that Max was able to kill him, or he’d have done it already. I don’t relish losing any more body parts, but at least I’ll fit in with some of the boys and girls in the Veteran clubs. “All right. I can see that I won’t be able to stop you…” Henry said, his head clear despite the grievous injuries he had suffered. “… but indulge me. Who are you really, and why are you doing this? And what’s your connection with Mary Stuart? That doesn’t add up!”
“I am in a hurry. Your little sister will be here soon, bringing her numerous allies. Now, one can kill those fools, I am proof of that.” He grinned, and there was definitely something inhuman about him. “However, that is Mary Stuart’s problem, not mine. Now, open the way. You have the blood.” He laughed, shaking Henry, sprinkling more gore on the patterns.
“All right, I remember what Ellie said, but… I’ve lost a lot of that blood, so my mind isn’t very clear. It’ll take me a few minutes, and your story will be a distraction from the pain.” He coughed, ruby and silver scattering.
“Very well. My father was a son of a king. A foolish, disloyal son, easily led stray by our great-aunt… no, aunt. She hates to be referred to in any manner that makes her seem old. She always did want to remain young and beautiful forever. Some said she was carrying Fae blood, though too thin for their eternal beauty. Perhaps it is true, look at my brother and I.” he snorted. “Half-Fae abominations, and cursed. My brother… he is cursed always to fail by his own hand, whereas I…” he closed his mouth. “Let me just say it is a similar burden. As to why… everything has a price, my young Prince. Everything.”
“So, if I help you get what you want, you’ll let me live?” Henry said, not holding out much hope.
“Oh, I swear Three Oaths.” He snorted. “I will let you live. I will not seek to claim the Cauldron, and I will take only three items, should the Geas on them prove suitable. In exchange…” Henry listened, surprised. “You will unlock the way, no longer seek to hinder me, and will tell nobody of what I have discussed here. Else… well, your Woe will claim you.” He kicked at Henry’s fallen Sceptre. “Those who take up the treasures here always have a Geas. Some for good, some for ill.”
“All right, I agree!” Henry said, grasping at straws. “Keep talking and I’ll open a path…” Tell nobody? I’m not the smartest, but I remember that there was a riddle about how to get around that… The sceptre had rolled closer to Henry after the blow, and he grasped it, hiding it in his clothing.
“The surest way to create great Weal, through Unseelie arts, is to give great Woe, but Woe to one’s bloodline is so much greater, orders of magnitude more powerful. After all, the Dark Queen of the Unseelie did grievously wound her own father and betray the Court. Well, my brother is similar. Hated by the Seelie, betrayed the Unseelie, now he sniffs around the Wild Hunt. Poor fool. Still wanting to avenge mother and father. Well, I shall take him a gift, if you hurry.” The silver whip tightened, and Henry groaned, beginning to recite the words Eleanor had told him, agonisingly slowly.
“Well, our Aunt cursed us both, turning us into the half-Fae, half human abominations we are, stained with misfortune. Unlike him though, I gave up on revenge centuries ago. Aunt is simply too strong, with Weal many times our Woe. My Woe is such that I was summoned by this fool, Maxwell Power. He had been gifted an ability beyond this world. He sought to bind me… yet in the end I killed him. And the power was compatible with my human half.” He smiled. “I took his place, and found another, who I killed. How, you ask, can I overcome my Woe? By doing good deeds.”
The floor opened, sliding to reveal a dark staircase, and Max smiled, satisfised. “Good. I had feared you were trying to be foolish, defiant.” He lifted up the bound Henry easily enough. “Even with entry permitted, I am unconvinced there are no traps. My brother is careless, arrogant, and always underestimates his foe and overestimates himself. I am not such a fool.” Descending the steps, torches on the walls shining in a number of unusual colours, Max continued. “I stole the identity of my would-be slaver, and with the power of the second, which I forced to obey, for it too was a match for me, a small miracle, I used the connections and wealth of both bodies to do many good deeds, aiding others selflessly. Though in the end, much like my brother, all that I touch will turn to ashes. The end of those shining actions comes now.” His smile was cold. “After all, the Woe always has its due. My brother knows that all too well.”
Maxwell Power, we did always wonder why his foundation was so eager to give away money and support… I thought he was just taken with Ellie, I mean, she is beautiful. But… Explosions outside the Tower were increasing in intensity, the world shaking ominously, a faint buzzing, as though words spoken in a low voice, too quiet to hear, drilling into his slowly-fogging brain.
“Mary Stuart? How is aiding her good?” Henry asked, as they reached the bottom of the stairs, and a door opened into the room filled with armour, banners, lances, spears, swords, axes and more, as well as gems, cups, cloaks, hats and other objects. Many were ordinary, to camouflage the treasures, or with little power, but Henry knew amongst them there were treasures that Ellie wouldn’t forgive him for losing. But this is the only way. Gather intelligence, put it to use, and we might have the last laugh…
“Good and evil are a complicated matter.” Max snorted softly, eyes wide as he looked around, taking a deep breath of satisfaction. “Her end goal is laudable, if you wish to survive. Of course, bending the knee, losing freedom, might not be a price all would pay for safety. The woman is crazed, the same madness as infests my brother. The ends always justify the means, no matter how ruthless. I happen to disagree, but…” He bent down, picking up a broken sword from the pile. “Yes, this one has a heavy Geas for me. I can take it. But… my brother can have it. A broken sword from our broken father, who broke faith and murdered his own father. Perfect.”
“Is that what you came for? Just who… is your father?” Henry asked, and Max shook his head. “Father and mother are long dead, and brother stole their bodies. He is obsessed with returning them to life, but he will fail, as he always does. I had not seen him in a long time. Until he darkened the doors of the Wild Hunt, looking for vengeance. Such a sorrowful sight. Now… back to Mary Stuart… she is powerful, and ruthless, but her temper burns hot. Such converts are always the most fanatical.” He bent down once more, and retrieved a spear from the pile, looking satisfied.
“Yes. This one calls to me. The Geas on it makes me smile. Knives will never be greased, and breath will never smell of ale.” Taking a practice thrust with it, a red glow struck the wall, and the knotwork began to crack and burn. “Two old opposing Gods, and both have blessed me it seems, no matter how unwillingly. Rather apt, considering my task here.”
“Your task? So, you’re not in charge?” Henry asked, and the shifting, multi-hued eyes of Max were turned on him, a wry expression on his face.
“Probing me? I am not my brother, eager to destroy my own plans through hubris. No, I am not the master of my destiny. Few are, and often only those willing to trample on others for their own gain, such as my aunt. Even this Mary Stuart, powerful though she is, serves man, and above that, a God.” He turned away, rooting through the treasures, tossing aside rich jewels, fine cloth, bottles of strange liquids, one of which shattered, the clear liquid within seeping into the ground.
It's now or never. He’ll not keep his word, I don’t have to be intelligent to recognise that. Besides… Henry’s thoughts were growing muddled, slower, as if he was wading through tar when he tried to concentrate. Looking down, he could see his body was starting to steam, silver mist rising from deathly pale skin. Clutching the sceptre under his shirt with his one remaining hand, he knew it was now or never. The moment of victory, that’s when he’ll be most vulnerable…
“I have it.” Max smiled, his hand turning to silver, the bindings on Henry loosening and vanishing. Max picked up a basketball-sized black stone, roughly spherical, and the moment his silver hand touched it, the silver metal smoked and bubbled, ruddy light leaking from the object. “Yes, this is quite dangerous. A fragment of a divine power, not in the hands of humans. I will be well-rewarded for this. Unlike brother, who came begging, I…”
You say your brother sabotages himself, but from where I stand, you shouldn’t throw stones in glass houses… “By The Authority Of Rome…” I think… I’m done. Not sure if I’ll survive this, but if I pour all my power into the command of the sceptre, I should be able to return to where Ellie and Mel are… “Give that stone a great big hug!” Aether flooded from Henry, and he lost his grip on the sceptre, everything going dark, but as he did so, he heard a baleful, agonised screeching noise, and the scent of burning flesh and smoke filled his nostrils, a predatory red gleam shining… This hurts… like my body is burning too. Ellie, Mel, grandmother, brother Richard, mum, dad… hope I get to see you all again…
********
“What in God’s name is going on?” Eleanor wasn’t one for blaspheming, but on entering her Avalon, she was amazed at the chaos. The gates of the Tower here, so impervious, had been opened without her consent, and hundreds of black feathers and disintegrating corpses of ravens were surrounding it. To the west, Mary Stuart was there, her face bloody, surrounded by broken suits of living armour. Henry. Please don’t die, you foolish man. Several-dozen other people, dressed in a mixture of armour and ornate religious robes, were engaging the remaining defenders, the creatures that had been called upon by her allies, though their numbers were rapidly dwindling.
“Princess, by the salt and smoke, you came.” Raidre declared, and Eleanor turned, shocked to see him already in seal form, and covered in numerous savage injuries. “The situation is grave, as you can see.” He smiled, bloody tusks curving up like ivory knives. “Yet with you here, there is hope that the stormy tides will turn. What of the others?”
Drawing her sword, hair streaming behind her, red ribbon holding it in a ponytail, Eleanor glanced down, seeing the resplendent green and copper armour covering her body. “They should be coming soon. Together, we’ll make Mary Stuart regret this.” If you’ve hurt Henry you’ll find that I’m not forgiving.
“They’re strong in numbers.” Raidre growled, a long whale rib, sharpened into a huge scimitar, gleaming in one massive fist. “And the bitch, she is crafty. But we have the advantage.” Raidre raised his head, now that of a humanoid seal, and let out a great bellow. A dozen more transformed selkie, some with injuries, one missing an eye, one an arm, came out, clutching their weapons. “Kin of Bermondsey Isle, we claimed this place for our kind after we left the Court, tired of the politics and the infighting. Now, our lands are threatened, and the guardian of our land, the Princess, she is imperilled. Well, no crawling back to the Court now for aid, we are selkie! Proud dwellers of salt, smoke and sea, we fight!”
At the cheers, Mary Stuart turned her cold gaze on us, and the Choir, formed up behind her, began to sing, and a shining halo of aether gathered. How did they get in? My barrier is weakened, but not completely destroyed. Enough. For Henry, Britain and all who live here… Mary staggered, and the singing of the Choir was disrupted, the halo dimming as they faltered, the weight of Eleanor’s Avalon oppressing them.
Seeing that, Raidre grinned anew. “Charge, spill their blood, let none escape! For Bermondsey Isle!” He paused as his troops cheered. “Though to be fair, it would not be bad to have that little weasel princess and her consort here, if they could take the Spring of Clear Reflections, they would make short work of this bitch.”
I would not turn down the aid, either. She surprised herself with her thoughts, before rushing forwards, towards Mary Stuart. “You bitch!” Eleanor swore with feeling, the haunting sight of Henry losing his limbs in front of her, helpless to stop it, bringing tears of frustration and hatred to her eyes. “I knew you wanted what we guard, but to think you’d stop so low, breaking in here and hurting Henry! That’s treason, bitch!” She flourished her blade, wishing she could drive it into that smugly smiling face. “How did you even get in here?” There should be more defences, no? Some are gone, I can tell, but what about…
“Hurting Prince Henry? Well, I did little more than talk to him, before he set those annoying tin men on me. To injure a woman’s face, the Prince really is the boor our tabloid press says he is.” She scoffed. “I was going to teach him a lesson in courtesy and respect towards a woman of the cloth, but he scampered away like a little rat. Tell me, how did he manage to come here? Perhaps a treasure of your family?”
Not answering me, huh? And if you’re not lying, then you didn’t do that to Henry… “If you didn’t harm Henry, who did? And what of the Tower? How could you attack it outside of Avalon? Don’t you want to keep these matters secret like us?”
Eleanor could see the puzzlement on her face. Behind them the halo of light flashed and a selkie was torn in half, blood scattering, but Raidre had killed one of the Judges, his rib-blade cleaving through armour, flesh and bone alike. A melee was breaking out, occasionally interrupted by bolts of rainbow energy flying from distant defences, harassing the forces of Mary.
“The Tower? No, what I want can’t be reached in the humble world devoid of hallowed ground.” Mary said, confused. “Did someone…” her green eyes widened in surprise. “Maxwell Power! How… why? Has he betrayed me? Does he not fear for his immortal soul?” Her face twisted into a wild grin. “Well, no matter. He cannot steal the false Holy Grail from us. Princess, now I offer you a final chance. Join us. I respect your passion, your bravery. I can give you salvation, and we can lead Britain into the arms of the Ninth Heaven, and know sanctuary! Otherwise…” she trailed off, stunned by something.
“What the fuck is this bitch saying?” Eleanor heard the familiar voice, only to see David striding forwards, face set in an angry scowl, mace in hand, the heavy, spiked head ominous. “Well, who fucking cares? Guess our man was right on the money. Well, he’d give me shit if I let you get hurt, Princess, after he came all this way to warn you. I am he who stands to defend these isles, on this ground I shall remain undefeated. Mars Caturix!”
Aether surged as David drew upon his blessing, his muscles bulging. It was then an arrow flew out and pierced one of the members of the Choir, taking them in the throat, song interrupted by the strike, blood fountaining down their white vestments, red and silver. Eleanor looked to see Aditi hefting her bow, eyes set tragically with remorse for killing another person. Beside her was Donovan, spear in hand, and Sir Arthur, who ran up to her and David, the fiery redhead Sarah beside him, heavy round shield held in a protective position.
“Get a fucking move on redhead, old geezer.” David said, and Sarah waved him off.
“Ye’ve got longer legs, David. Besides, we made it in time, ye ken?” She turned to Eleanor. “Mary-Jane, she’ll be late.”
“I am sorry I was not here to protect you and Henry.” Sir Arthur said solemnly. “But now I am, and I will let nobody touch you, not even a woman of faith.” He glared at Mary, who was rooted to the spot. Her forces were giving a good account of themselves, but against the surviving selkie, as well as the arrow barrages of Aditi, they were being pushed back, the oppression of Avalon too much for them. “For shame, Miss Stuart. This is a grave sin, such misdeeds.” He turned back to Eleanor. “Henry woke up for just a moment before passing out. The blood loss is critical so he is being airlifted out immediately. Mary-Jane will join us momentarily.”
He's alive. Thank heavens.
“It was not I who maimed Prince Henry.” Mary said calmly, and Eleanor felt there was something wrong. In the distance, back towards the Palace, they could see Mary-Jane jogging towards them, heavy staff in hand. “That godless bastard Max has fooled me. Even so, if your brother could get into the final basement, I would never have let Henry slip through my fingers. Speaking of…”
[Who Warned You To Flee From The Wrath To Come? There Shall Be No Retreat From Hallowed Ground.] At her indecipherable words, everyone stumbled, and as Mary’s bloody mouth split open further, her cheek oozing gore, she smiled. “I learn from my mistakes. I put a lot of power in that. After all, just as Metatron, I speak for the Lord of the Ninth Heaven. If only the words of God were not so painful to speak.”
“Tch.” David spat. “Doesn’t matter. This is our turf, you’re outclassed, and soon you’ll be going back to London in a wooden box, bitch.” He swung his mace in a test swing, like playing baseball. “Give me the word, Princess.”
“We need her alive. I’ve got a lot of questions.” Eleanor said coldly. “But let’s not drag this out. Raidre’s people are dying, and our Avalon is taking significant damage.” Besides, I want to see Henry, and Melissa will be in a terrible state.
“All right then. Broken bones it is!” David roared, rushing forwards with the greatest speed Eleanor had ever seen from him. “Get fucked, bitch!”
Seemingly unable to respond, Mary looked up at the shadow of David as he leapt at her, mace held high. Closing her eyes, she smiled, and Eleanor felt a great chill. There’s something wrong…
A shining red glow illuminated the air, and the numerous small bells that adorned Mary’s robe began to chime softly in the sudden breeze. David was thrown back, mace jarred from his hands, eyes wide. He landed heavily, stunned. “What the fuck?”
My thoughts exactly. Footsteps echoed as a person walked past them, red hair blowing in the breeze generated by the collision, to stand beside Mary, her shield held defensively, the ruby glow fading. As Sarah smiled sadly, she shrugged. “It’s nae personal, David, Eleanor. Just… this is best for everyone, ye ken? Now, Eleanor, if ye could take Mary to that basement, nae more people have to get hurt.” Moments later, bolts of aetheric light began to surge from the distance, this time targeting the selkie. One fell, head pierced, and Raidre had taken several hits. Moments later, a dark tide of goblins, wolves and other creatures, their eyes devoid of life, only acting on instincts, rushed towards them.
“That’s… the army Sarah has been gathering…” Sir Arthur said heavily. “How long has this been plotted, Sarah? We are comrades who have fought together, shed blood, tears and laughter.”
“Like I said, it’s nae personal. I like ye all, really, I do. But…” she shrugged. “I nay want the world tae end, get it? All ye have to do is let Mary have what she wants. It’s that easy.”
“Oh, don’t be so humble, Sarah.” Mary said, turning to the oncoming Mary-Jane. [The Lord Has Broken The Staff Of The Wicked, Though They Be Ignorant…] Her strange words echoed again, and there was a number of sickening snaps. Mary spat a tooth amongst bloody saliva, while Mary-Jane folded in half, one arm bent backwards savagely, her precious staff wrenched from her shattered fingers.
“You fucking bitch!” David roared, enraged beyond reason, charging them, only to be slammed back by Sarah’s shield.
“Sorry, man. I guess this means ye ain’t so sweet on me now, right? Well, maybe when this is all over, we can talk it out over a beer, aye?” Her kind words only stoked him to a greater fury, then for David to scream in pain as something struck him from behind.
What’s happening? I can’t keep up. Events had overtaken her reason, and as she watched, David turned, touching the protruding spearhead pushing through his stomach, sparking electricity arching, burning his skin. Following his gaze, they all turned, to see Donovan standing there empty-handed, Aditi lying on the ground beside him, paralysed, blood seeping from wounds in her arms where she had been stabbed, lightning crackling.
“You… too… you little… shit?” David coughed sparkling blood.
“Sorry.” He giggled shamefacedly. “But to get what I want, I have to do this.” He looked at Eleanor then, and her skin crawled as his eyes roved over every inch of her, a madness within. “Well, I might as well join in. It won’t be long now…” There was a scream, and Mary-Jane vanished. “… yes, there goes her banner. Next would be…” his gaze flickered to Aditi, lying beside him. “It doesn’t sit well with me, hurting such a pretty girl as you, Aditi…” he leaned down, lovingly caressing her hair, as she looked at him, horrified. “... but then, compared to our noble Princess…” his foot came down on her wounded arm, making her scream. “You’re nothing, all those other girls are nothing more than a one night stand, something to pass the time.”
“This has to be charm, right?” Eleanor said desperately. “Max Power has bewitched you all. You can’t mean this, can’t do this…” No, this wasn’t supposed to happen. We were comrades, we’ve fought together, laughed together…
“Maxwell Power, that wretch. How he fooled me I have no idea, but… charm? The only words I listen to are the Lord’s. He is a persuasive little sinner though, I admit. There will be much wailing and gnashing of teeth when I catch him he will wish for fire and brimstone. No, Sarah here is a wise, God-fearing woman. As for young Donovan… well, if you had been reasonable, Princess, you could all have continued to be good friends, working for the Lord.”
“I’ve handed control to you, Sarah. I don’t want Aditi to suffer. As for the others…” He looked at David and Sir Arthur coldly. “Always laughing at me, David. Don’t think I didn’t see your mockery. Well, muscles don’t beat brains. Now, I have to go. Princess, you always enter Avalon from that room in the Tower, right?”
He's right, I do. Still trying to disbelieve the evidence of her own eyes, even as another selkie fell, overwhelmed by the tide of enemies, and Raidre staggered, the bolts of aether ravaging him, the barrage from Sarah’s Avalon fierce, Eleanor nodded rustily, frozen.
“Well, I’ll see you soon, Princess.” And with that he vanished.
“Fuck. You’d sell the Princess to that piece of shit?” David staggered backwards, towards Eleanor and Sir Arthur, dripping blood.
“I nay like it, not at all. Honestly, I never thought our wee Donovan was such trash.” She sighed, looking at Eleanor, her gaze sympathetic. “Eleanor, just say the word tae the Cardinal here…” she nodded at the grinning Mary, as a halo of light blasted another selkie into ashes, the Choir singing loudly again now that Aditi’s arrows had stopped. “… and I’ll go put a stop tae it. Don’t see this as a betrayal, I’m just doing it tae help ye. Help ye all. Sorry David.” She apologised again, and he laughed incredulously.
“Funny fucking way of helping. Everything’s ruined now. Shit. Sir Arthur… Raidre…” he raised his voice, shouting to the beleaguered Fae. “Protect the Princess with your lives!”
“Of course. The Princess is as a favourite niece to me. I’ll die before I let her come to harm.” Sir Arthur said, clutching his relic sword.
“By the salt and bloody seas, shut up.” Raidre roared, his berserk rage increasing, shrugging off the blows landing on him, two more members of Mary Stuart’s host dying beneath his blade and fists. “We are the…”
“Selkie of Bermondsey isle, I fucking get it.” David spat blood with his cold words. “Why not try and prove you’re better than that maid? Now… Princess… not sure if we can trust the others, but I know who we can’t trust…” he glared at Sarah balefully. “… so stay safe and run, until you can shake off whatever curse that mad bitch put on us. As for me… guess I go out on my terms.”
With a grin he roared. “I am the Chosen of Caturix, and I’ll be fucking damned if I lose here!” Somehow he wrenched free the sparking, buzzing spear, nearly falling to one knee, before his wounds started to close. Grabbing his mace, he hefted it in trembling arms.
“Run, Princess!” Sir Arthur shouted, and with one last, desperate look at her allies, she turned and sprinted towards the river to the south.
“I think not, [All Shall Kn…]” Mary’s strange words were cut off by a roaring gale of wind, as Sir Arthur unsheathed his full might, a cyclone twisting around his blade.
“I think not. If you wish to harm her, it is through me.” Sir Arthur declared grandly, like a man half his age.
“Don’t do this.” Sarah warned. “The longer you delay, the more time Donovan will have to do something bad. I only want her to return what her family, Britain has stolen. Then we can go back to being friends again.”
“Oh, like our schoolteacher, and Aditi?” David spat blood once more, though the flow was diminishing, a thick silver steam rising from his overstressed body. “Fuck you Sarah. You asked for this. I’m King of the… shit. Promised I wouldn’t anymore. Well now I’m King of bashing your fucking skull in!” He roared, and as Eleanor leapt into the water of the wide, slowly-flowing Thames of her Avalon, she looked back once to see them clashing, her friends, split apart...
What do I do now? Without me, Mary Stuart can never get to where the legacy is, but… I’m going to lose almost everything else, though my banner is set in a place she cannot reach easily... No… As she swam across, heading in the direction of Bermondsey isle, she vowed to herself that she would protect everything, just as she had been doing up until now. If I have to start from scratch, I will. And this time… she drew her sword, the blade piercing through her metal gauntlet and her palm, blood flowing into the water. Even as she pulled the blade free, flesh and metal were healing, but the fading pink spreading around her was testament to her vow. …I’ll do whatever it takes. Henry, Mary-Jane, Aditi, David, Sir Arthur, Raidre, all of those who are fighting for me… I won’t let you down! Now she just needed to think of a way to turn the tables on an impossibly unfavourable situation. Before it’s too late…