TALES OF THE PENDRAGONS	Tales of the Pendragons, featuring
#36
Early 1400s	Part Three

#36 - "Masters of Evil"
Written and HTMLed by: Adrian J. Watts
Editor: Barry Reese

This is a timeslip tale; it diverged from the Pendragons Universe in the early-1400s, C.E.

Nosbert's Cove, 200km south of Tintagel Head

My name is Nathan Garrett. I was born, bred, and raised in England, but now my travels have led me to Scotland, where I'd heard that the sword of my uncle, Sir Percy of Scandia, had been found in the ocean. I'd be looking for the weapon, and my uncle, for weeks, and the rumour was just what I'd been waiting for.

But this place, Nosbert's Cove, was not where the body had been discovered. This was where Prince Namor, the ruler of the undersea kingdom of Atlantis, had hesitantly agreed to meet me. He was not pleased with dealing with what he called a "surface-dweller", but I could promise him something that he could not attain himself: victory over the evil god, Lordrom.

Namor had stumbled across the Asgardian "ebony sword of twilight" a few weeks back, a weapon that had been used by my uncle, Percy. No-one but one of his bloodline could harness the true power of this sword, not even Namor. So in return for him helping me now, by leading me to where he found the sword and by giving me the armour and weapons that were my heritage, I was going to help him take contol of the area of the world surrounding Atlantis.

I found Namor in an inn run by a nice fellow named Jarvis. He, too, was English, yet he was fascinated with the "wizards" that had shown up in Scotland of late, apparently serving King Mordred. They called themselves the King's Vengeance, and they consisted of the realm's mightiest heroes. I sat down at the bar, next to the monarch, who looked at me with an odd expression.

"Are you Namor?" I asked. He looked like Namor, right down to the winged feet, but one could never be sure, not with the crafty art of sabotage that the rebels known as the Picts were capable of.

"Yes," he said. "Are you the one called Garrett?"

"Aye," I replied. "Are you ready?"

"Not quite," said Namor. "I shall show you where your relative's sword was found, but you must allow me to use the weapon to kill the King's Vengeance. Lordrom prevented me from battling them properly when I last met them, but this time, with the sword fully at my disposal, they won't escape my wrath."

I smiled, "Of course." What did I care for the King's Vengeance? I'd only just heard of them.

"NO!" yelled Jarvis, the innkeeper. "Ye'll call the guard in with talk like that. Now out wit' the lotta ye, afore the guard comes and destroys my bar dealing with you traitors!"

Namor didn't like that. He picked Jarvis up, and looked ready to throw the man through a wall, before a razor sharp, spinning shield separated them. "King's Vengeance!" Namor yelled.

"Yes, Namor," said a firm, strong voice from behind me. "Now leave that man and come with me!"

"And why would I do that? Are we not friends after I helped defeat Lordrom?" asked Namor. But a fast moving arrow hitting him in the arm answered his query. It was Clinton LeBarr, firing a warning.

"No, we're not," said LeBarr. "We heard you talking about killing us. And me and my friend? We take exception to that."

"No!" yelled Namor, grabbing me by the shirt, and tearing off through the roof of the bar with me in tow. "Perhaps we'll need that sword sooner rather than later, Garrett."

Tintagel Head, Scotland

We took off for a forest near Tintagel Head. Namor needed to tend to his arm. He couldn't let it be as it was; the pain must have been agonising. Namor landed there, in the forest, and while he looked after his wound, I went exploring. What I found will haunt me to the day I die. As I walked through the forest, it seemed to get wilder, thicker. It got to the point where I had to pull out a small knife to hack my way through. But then, I reached what was at the center of what must have been protective overgrowth.

Why must it have been protective? Because at its very center, I found a huge dwelling. The only way that much growth could have grown on that spot would be if the house was abandoned, or if the growth was deliberately cultivated to grow in such a manner. I suspected that if someone was... odd enough to live in an estate in the middle of a forest, the latter possibility was more likely.

So I pushed my way through the dense foliage, and made my way to the dwelling's front door. I knocked loudly upon it, hoping to signal my presence to any who may be in the house. I waited for many minutes, knocking repeatedly, until finally I heard:

"Depart." The word was spoken by a voice deep within the house, nowhere near the door.

"Who lives here?" I asked.

"That is not your concern," replied the voice. Before I could speak again, large vines and grass grew over the abode and completely concealed it from view.

London, England

Simon Willhelm wandered the streets, utterly lost and confused. The last thing he could remember with all certainty was his journey to the place called Avalon, where he tried to repair damage done by Morgan Le Fey to the magickal realm. Then, all of a sudden, he was in London.

So he wandered around, unsure of what to do next. He could make it to Avalon or Tintagel in less than an hour, flying, as he was an entity of pure magick - but he thought he had first better find out why and how he ended up in London.

Stumbling down an alleyway, he felt something clutch his foot. Looking down at the ground, he saw a man, dressed in green and yellow robes. Recalling what he was taught in school, it appeared that the vagrant might be Lordrom, the norse god of evil.

"He-e-elp meee!" the vagrant called.

Simon looked down at the "god". He was beaten and bruised - obviously he was on the wrong end of a magickal. He decided to help the god - maybe he could help him find out what got him here. Simon grabbed the man's arm, and, switching to his magickal form, he infused the god's physical form with healing magic, which restored him to his regular self.

"Ah!" sighed Lordrom, up and about again. "I've been freed from the Isle of the Silent Ones! When Namor defeated us with a mere physical attack, which knocked us here from Tintagel, our forms must have been separated. Now that I am free, it is time to deal with Donar."

Lordrom looked at Simon. After a few moments, he realised Simon wasn't sharing his enthusiasm.

"What are you talking about?" asked Simon.

"You do not remember?" asked Lordrom.

"No," said Simon.

"Then I shall tell you what caused us to be here...." began Lordrom. "A few weeks ago, you and I were repairing the damage done to fair Avalon when my half brother, Donar, and the evil monarch known as Prince Namor, under the orders of King Mordred, attacked us!

"We retaliated, and nearly managed to defend ourselves. But then a horde of Atlanteans attacked Mordred's castle, and while we tried to help protect it, Donar and Namor attacked us together, hurling us here!"

"They attacked us? For helping Avalon?" asked Simon.

"Yes," said Lordrom. "They didn't want to us to repair the damage they had done."

"Then we should avenge ourselves, and return to save Avalon!" said Simon.

"Yes..." said Lordrom. "And a plan begins to form..."

The English Channel

A ship from Germania made its way through the English Channel, having come all the way from Germany with a full cargo load. Its cargo, however, was not food or gold that the Germans wished to trade with the English. Instead, its cargo was... men!

The longship was captained by a German with more than a little wealth. He didn't need to get his hands dirty trading slaves and mercenaries, but he enjoyed it, especially if it meant the chance to bring down the English monarchy. His name was was Baron Heinrich Zemo, and that was what he was doing - taking a veritable army of mercenaries and slaves to support the Picts, a rebellion in the south of Scotland doing everything it could to destroy King Mordred and his militia.

He rested in his cabin, with his rapier by his side. He was a skilled swordsman, and he did not trust any of his crew, least of all the two men who shared the cabin next to his: Erik Josten, a Scandian skilled in smuggling anything and everything and Norbert Ebersol, a fellow German, whose knowledge of science and explosives knew no equal, although Zemo's certainly came close.

They had just crossed the halfway mark of the English Channel when a sudden gust of wind rose up. There had not even been a slight breeze the second before, and Zemo didn't doubt the unearthly origin of the winds. He leaped from his cot and out onto the ship's deck where he saw, to his astonishment, two men floating in the sky above him. One seemed composed of a shimmering purple energy and the other looked normal, garbed in a yellow and green cloak.

"Demons!" Zemo snarled at the two figures. "I knew Mordred's evil ties knew no limits."

"We are not demons, Captain," Lordrom, the cloaked figure, explained. "In fact, the opposite is true. I am a god."

The forest near Tintagel Head, Scotland

Nathan Garrett finished bandaging Namor's injured arm. The wound from Clinton LeBarr's arrow was deep, and the Atlantean king had lost a lot of blood. Nathan had torn off a piece of his tunic to use as a bandage, though he knew that wasn't ideal - it was dirty, and it ran the risk of giving Namor an infection. He wondered if the person dwelling within the forest could help, but -

"Ow!" Namor winced.

"Sorry," Nathan replied. "I'm just a little pre-occupied."

"That will do!" Namor snapped. "My physician in Atlantis can properly tend to my wound when I return to my undersea kingdom. Let us away."

"Before we go, Namor..." Nathan began. "As you know, I went exploring earlier. I found a large house in the center of some dense foliage. When I knocked upon the door, the plants suddenly grew to completely conceal it."

"Why would I care? What does this have to do with the ebony blade?"

"I don't know," Nathan replied. "But I would like to find out."

"Very well," Namor said. "Once you have obtained the sword and armour that only you can fully utilise, and I have been avenged, you can return and - "

"No!" Nathan snapped. "I want to find out who lives here now, Namor, and if you don't help me you'll never regain your honour."

Namor thought for a moment. His first instinct was to simply crush Nathan Garrett than and there, but the human had a point - without Nathan, the true power of the Ebony Sword of Twilight and the armour of Sir Percy could not be fully used, and then Namor would never get his revenge on the 'King's Vengeance'.

"Very well," Namor conceded. "The sooner we dismiss your trivial sidetrack the sooner I can gain my vengeance!"

Nathan led the Atlantean King to the mound of grass and vine that had covered the house. He outlined where the door had been, and this time we didn't bother to knock. Namor stepped back and flew at the door, smashing into it with all of his vast strength. It collapsed and flew inward, but entering the home was not so easy. As the regal amphibian tried to cross the threshold, a semi-transparent rose-coloured barrier appeared to bar his way. Namor tried to smash it down, but his blow backfired, knocking him several feet away from the door. It must have been magic!

"Who disturbs Merlin the Mystic in his own home?" the voice Nathan had heard earlier called out.

"Um, it is I, Nathan Garrett, again," Nathan replied. "The world thinks you're dead, Merlin."

"I know."

"You know of King Mordred's oppression of everyone across the Isles? You know of the doom his 'King's Vengeance' have declared for all who oppose their master?"

"... yes."

"Then you're pathetic," Nathan remarked. "With your vaunted power, you could save us all, but instead you cower like a whipped dog in the heart of a forest where few would dare look for you."

There was silence for a moment, then "Enter."

Namor and Nathan found that they could freely explore the mystic's home, but also found themselves drawn to a particular room downstairs. They navigated their way there and found that it was a huge laboratory.

"Merlin," Nathan asked as they entered, "how can you be alive? Many have reported that Morgan killed you."

"Hah!" Merlin scoffed. "I will tell you what truly happened... Sir Pency of Scandia - a relative of yours, I believe - and I had plotted to eliminate Mordred and Morgan, who had unfairly broken the enchantment on Excalibur that was to make Arthur Pendragon king. I entered the castle and attacked Morgan, but my magick was not powerful enough to destroy her."

As Nathan listened, the events seemed to physically unfold around him. He found the experience terrifying... but wonderful.

"I used the last of my power to hurl us both into the astral plane, where I intended to keep us trapped for eternity. But Morgan was more powerful than I expected; she fled the astral plane, and where she went I do not know. I emerged and returned here, where I set to work finding out what Morgan had done that made her so powerful. Now I know."

"What did she do?" Nathan asked.

"Years ago, Morgan tried to take over the realm, and it took our best warriors to defeat her. She fled, into the future, where she lived in an Age of Marvels. After almost two decades there, where she bore her son, Mordred, she found the means to return to the present with vastly improved magical abilities," Merlin explained. "She then modified the enchantment on Excalibur, installed her son as king, and destroyed the High Priestess of Avalon. She took control of my laboratory off Tintagel Head, and used the devices she found there to bring the essence of the heroes of the future back to our time, and she instilled them in normal men. Some have become 'the King's Vengeance'. Others, like the two of you, have taken other paths."

Nathan was shocked. "If we could find the others - "

"We could destroy the King's Vengeance!" Namor cried. "Quickly, mage, you must find them."

"Patience, Namor," Merlin said. "That will take time. For now, you two may remain here in safety. But first," he waved his right hand through the air, "these might be a nice fit for Master Garrett." As Merlin finished moving his hand the armour and sword of Sir Percy of Scandia found their way to Nathan's feet. Nathan picked them up and donned them before following Merlin's directions to a chamber on the floor above.

When the two heroes were gone, a young boy stepped out of the shadows.

"There is more to that story than you're telling them, isn't there?" the boy asked.

"Yes, Stephen," Merlin replied, "and all will be revealed in time."

The English Channel

Lordrom used his vast powers to raise Heinrich Zemo's ship a few feet above the water, as a show of his awesome strength, and began to address the crew. His powers as a scion of Asgard were greater than most people could ever suspect, and he knew all about the ship and the unique talents of its occupants. One by one he called the key crew members above decks and unleashed their awesome potential. As he spoke to each, Simon Willhelm released a small portion of his magickal essence that surrounded them and cloaked them in a protective aura that took the visual form of colourful armour.

"Melany O'Rourke, or Ireland," he said. "Your inhuman vocal cords allow you to make sound solid, and this is a skill that will serve you well in my service as Songbird. Erik Josten, of Britain - you wield the magickal knowledge to make items shrink and grow. This has allowed you to smuggle treasures from all corners of Europe. Now, your powers shall extend to yourself as the size-changing Goliath!" As Lordrom finished speaking, the rust-haired Erik Josten grew to titanic proportions.

"Abner Jenkins," Lordrom continued. "Long did you live under the shadow of Anthony Stark in your blacksmith shoppe at Tintagel. Now I shall enhance your magick armour with my own strength, giving you access to never-before-seen spells of great magnitude.

"Norbert Ebersol. You are a self-styled tinkerer, able to construct machines that rival those conceived by Merlin himself. You shall serve me and your allies by providing mechanical resources to use in battle. Finally, Karla Sofen, you who served my brother Donar in his guise as King of Scandia, and who even now seek to report what you have spied here to the stubborn fool. I give you a choice - wield the enchanted nornstone you have secreted in your possession as my minion, or be returned to your master in one thousand thousand pieces."

Karla Sofen thought about the offer for a moment. She had stolen one of Donar's mystic nornstones, enchanted stones of magical power that had fallen from fabled Asgard, in order to convince Heinrich Zemo of her worth as a criminal and to get aboard his ship as a spy. It had been tempting to keep the immensely powerful stone for herself and use it to overthrow her liege, and it had taken great will to suppress such thoughts. Now, she was being asked to do something far worse, and join forces with her sire's mad brother to overthrow an entire empire. It would be insane to accept. But wouldn't it be more insane to choose death over power?

"I... accept," she said reluctantly.

"Very well, my Nornstone," Lordrom finished. "Together with the unskilled and untrained paeons who man this ship, you shall be an army to reckon with and more than powerful enough to overthrow the King's Vengeance, which even now seeks to destroy the Pict army you intended to reinforce."

"And then we can avenge Avalon, right?" Willhelm asked.

"What? Oh... OH! Yes, of course. Avalon shall be avenged this day..." Lordrom said. You fool, he added silently.

South of Tintagel Head

A mystic portal closed just east of Nosbert's Cove after expelling its new army of superhuman warriors. It was the work of the mad god Lordrom, who had tapped into Simon Willhelm's magickal energy to teleport his new forces, and the entire ship that carried them, halfway across the large landmass that was Britain.

When the ship settled, the crew and cargo disembarked and Heinrich Zemo, once a lord of his domain, now stood in shackles with the paeons he intended to sell. The Pict army surrounded them, unsure of whether to trust the newcomers, until Lordrom descended from the sky and addressed the crowd.

"I am Lordrom, one of the powerful Aesir gods of Asgard," Lordrom explained. "I come not as an enemy, but as an ally. The King's Vengeance have done me and my friends a great wrong, and we are here now to support your effort against King Mordred and his army."

Lordrom left with the Pict leader as Zemo's forces waited to know whether they'd be joining the Picts or destroyed by them. As they waited, Nornstone took Goliath to a quiet corner and spoke to him in hushed whispers.

"You know, Erik," she said. "We don't need to do this. I think that if you, Abner and I combined our powers, we could defeat Lordrom and take control of this entire army."

"I don't," Goliath replied simply. "And even if we could, Willhelm would just - "

Goliath was cut off by an arrow that split the air between he and Nornstone.

"Halt, there!" Clinton LeBarr, Longbow, cried. Nornstone looked around and saw the King's Vengeance had surrounded the Pict camp, obviously drawn there by the presence of the sea ship. Nornstone had to think quickly; she didn't want to attack the King's Vengeance, at least not until she had the chance to weigh up her options. She trusted the King's Vengeance far more than she trusted Lordrom, and she thought that if she approached them, tried to explain her position to Longbow and Yeoman Armorique, perhaps they'd believe her.

She used her artefact-born magickal ability and took flight, heading straight for the leaders of the Vengeance. It wasn't until she was almost upon them that she realised they may think her actions were an attack - and the realisation came too late. Longbow fired one of his arrows, which hit the protective aura with which Willhelm had imbued her but still packed a powerful punch. She dropped to the ground in a barely conscious heap.

Chaos ensued. Abner Jenkins energised his magickal armour and took to the air in search of Anthony Stark, the Iron Knight. They found eachother high above the Pict camp and began to battle. Iron Knight tried to use his magical force to repulse the attacking Jenkins, but the powers that Lordrom had supplied were too powerful - Jenkins unleashed a volley of magickal darts that struck Iron Knight's armour again and again, leaving him unable to fight back and barely able to defend himself.

Gigantus and his partner, Pixie, bashed their way straight into the middle of the camp and were met by Goliath. Goliath grew to match Gigantus' size but, rather than meet him in battle with massive fist against massive fist he simply broke pieces off Zemo's ship, enlarged them to almost twenty times their usual size and hurled them at the king's servant. Gigantus and Pixie were left only able to deflect or destroy the shrapnel which was thrown their way, but Goliath knew that the moment he stopped to rest the two militiamen would be upon him.

Songbird and the Tinkerer set their sights on the three remaining members of the Vengeance: Wanda Maximoff, Longbow, and Yeoman Armorique were fighting against the non-powered Picts, and making quite substantial headway. Songbird created a barrier of solid sound that kept the three cut off from their fellows while the Tinkerer created and hurled dozens of traps into the confined space, where Armorique and Longbow soon became exhausted protecting their female teammate from metal spikes, acid bombs, and metal shrapnel.

One member of the King's Vengeance had been forgotten. Peter Maximoff sped faster than many men could see around the camp, heading straight for the small hut where Lordrom and the Pict leader were speaking. He burst through one of the flimsy walls of the hut, surprising the two occupants, and immediately launched into a furious assault on Lordrom.

Lordrom wasn't fazed. Although the attack took him by surprise, the superhuman speedster was not much of a threat to a god. Lordrom made a small gesture with one arm, and Peter Maximoff was stopped in his tracks, as though he had run into a massive tree branch that struck him in the stomach. He lurched backwards, clutched his stomach, and collapsed to the ground.

Outside, Heinrich Zemo scrambled, still shackled, to the limp form of Nornstone. Employing his deft and precise skill as a swordsman, he intercepted a magickal strike from Simon Willhelm with his shackles - it meant that his opponent would live a moment longer, but at least Zemo was free; and all Zemo cared about was Zemo.

With his hands now free, Zemo roused Nornstone. She rose slowly, unsure of her surroundings or her footing, but she soon realised that her certainty of anything was irrelevant - Zemo shot out one hand and grabbed the woman around the neck. He lifted her a few inches off of the ground, his own muscles straining, and spoke softly.

"I overheard you and Josten earlier," he whispered. "Thank you for giving me the key to victory. When I turn you in to Lordrom, with the backup of the loyal Goliath to support me, I suspect that I will be the new guardian of the mighty norn stone and you shall be joining the other paeons in the galley of our former sea vessel!"

Nornstone tried to speak, but Zemo squeezed so tightly around her throat that she could not summon enough air to make a sound.

"Oh, keep quiet," Zemo snarled. "There is nothing left that you can do."

The battle was a stalemate. The Beetle and Iron Knight were deadlocked, with neither unable to circumvent the other's magickal shielding. Goliath managed, although he was tiring quickly, to hold Gigantus and Pixie at bay. Simon Willhelm's magickal blasts kept Longbow and Yeoman Armorique from getting anywhere near close enough to strike at him. Songbird and the Tinkerer held Wanda Maximoff at bay with a series of solid sound cages and explosive blasts that the young magician could barely avoid, let alone defeat.

The battle was a stalemate, until Lordrom emerged with the limp body of Peter Maximoff slung over his shoulder. He tossed it to the ground, where the messenger's twin sister could see it. In horror, she lowered her defences, and a strike from the Tinkerer knocked her unconscious.

"The King's Vengeance," Lordrom muttered. "So outnumbered. You cannot win."

"Oh?" Yeoman Armorique began. "You have not yet - "

The leader of the King's Vengeance was cut off as a semi-transparent wave of green interlaced energy washed over the area. Before the eyes of Lordrom and his new forces, the King's Vengeance seemed to turn to dust and be swept away with the energy wave. After a few seconds the energy disappeared, leaving Lordrom to survey the damage the battle had caused which was, as far as he could tell, very little.

"You have done well in your first battle against the oppressors," Lordrom said. "Yet more is still to come."

"Master Lordrom!" Zemo cried, still holding Nornstone. "There is a traitor in your midst!"

"Oh?" Lordrom approached Zemo, but paused a few feet away. He examined the German swordsman for a second, and then clearly made some kind of decision as he made a simple gesture that threw Zemo several feet backwards, causing him to drop Nornstone. "A traitor, eh?"

"Yes, master!" Zemo gasped. "She sought to overthrow you. She even approached Goliath with her plans, but he turned her away. He is a good ally, but she is an enemy." Goliath looked at Zemo with a raised eyebrow.

"I suspected as much," Lordrom remarked. With yet another simple sweep of the forearm, Nornstone was raised into the air and drawn slowly toward the norse god. When she was within arm's reach, Lordrom stopped using his awesome power and threw one arm around her. "You thought to betray me?"

Nornstone shook her head.

"Here is a suggestion," Lordrom began, as he used his free hand to reach deep inside Nornstone's chest, where he grasped the nornstone. Nornstone looked down at her chest. To her surprise, there was no visible wound. The pain, however, was excruciating. "Never try to deceive the god of lies!"

NEXT: The return of Morgan Le Fey! It all comes down to this - be here for Queen's Vengeance Pt.4, "Morgan's Run"!

Feel free to send comments, questions or concerns to bella1@netspace.net.au

June 2, 2005