Home > Arthur (Grail Quest #1)(24)

Arthur (Grail Quest #1)(24)
Author: J.R. Rain

"Yes and no. Yes, there is an acceptable time for violence. Sometimes one must go to war, to have peace. Do you understand this concept?"

I nodded; I did.

"But solve your differences with kindness," he said.

"I don't want her to die," I said.

Arthur turned and looked at Marion for a heartbeat or two. There were tears in his eyes. "I don't either, my friend. More than you know."

I took a deep breath. "So you were going to give your life to me?"

"Of course," he said. "You have given your life to me, James. More than once."

"I don't understand."

"It's okay if you don't understand everything now. There is much to learn. But now, though, can we put all this behind us and get some work done?"

I nodded.

"Come," he said. "Then we must hurry!"

Chapter Thirty-two

The rain, cold and persistent, drove straight down through the roofless church as lightning flickered over the nearby hills. That is, I hoped it was lightning. Thunder followed a few seconds later. That is, I hoped it was thunder. Either way, the ground seemed to shake and the broken walls of the church rattled.

Not to mention I was cold as hell.

Cold as Heaven, I thought, catching myself. Was Heaven ever cold, anyway? Or too hot? Or was it always just right?

Focus, James.

Right.

With Excalibur hanging haphazardly from his hammer loop, Arthur stood on the platform, hands on his hips, frowning. In all, we were a motley crew. Well, except for Marion. Somehow, she still managed to look ravishingly beautiful, even in the wavering torchlight.

"It's around here somewhere," he said again.

"What's around here?" I asked again.

Through the broken, open entrance, I could see perhaps twenty men gathering outside the church, many with their own torches.

Probably didn't have cool Godfire torches, though.

Focus, James.

Right.

Anyway, the men seemed to be milling about, as if waiting for someone or for some sort of command. I adjusted my own grip on my broadsword.

"The entrance," said Arthur.

"The entrance to what?"

"The Underworld," he said patiently, and stopped before a flat, massive stone in the center of the raised platform. "Here," he said.

"Doesn't look like much of an entrance, Arthur," I said.

"Exactly," he said. "No one suspects it."

"Does Merlin know of it?"

"Of course," said Arthur. "He helped me seal the doorway, of course."

"Yes, of course. Silly of me to ask. Here's another obvious question: If Merlin knows where the doorway is, then why did he wait until now to open it?"

"Two reasons," said Arthur. "First, he has always been one to make a dramatic entrance."

Arthur knelt down, blew dust away and ran a finger along the seam of the fitted boulder's edge.

"And the second?" I prompted.

He looked up at me from the floor, torchlight flickering in his round eyes. He grinned.

"He needs you, of course."

Chapter Thirty-three

"Yes, of course," I said. "And why would he be waiting for me?"

"Because you are very much a part of this, James."

"A part of what?"

Arthur looked up from the floor, rain hitting him full in the face. "Why, the search for the Holy Grail, old boy, and the ushering in of the New Age of Enlightenment for all mankind."

"I need a drink," I said.

Marion suddenly touched my forearm. "Guys," she said, "I think they're coming."

I looked out through the broken front entrance. A steady stream of torches were coming our way. I suddenly felt like Frankenstein's monster.

I wheeled around to Arthur. "Can't you stop them?"

"And how do you propose I stop them?" he asked, somewhat jovially, perhaps too jovially for my taste.

"With one of your miracles," I said. "You know, pray. Or something. Thank God for kicking their asses."

"I can't do that, James."

I stood, pissed off as hell all over again. Arthur unsheathed his sword. By unsheathed, I mean he took it out of his cargo shorts. Excalibur glowed softly in his hands. I could almost hear it humming, a sort of subsonic metallic ringing.

"And why not, dammit?"

Through the front entrance, I saw some of the men spread out, probably to surround the entire stone chapel and seal us in.

Arthur said, "Some things must happen, James, for growth to occur."

"And being attacked by a dozen or so armed crazies from Narnia is one of them?"

"Apparently so," said Arthur.

"You mean, you don't know?" I asked, suddenly realizing that I was, in all probability, about to die.

"Not necessarily," he said, and I looked over at him curiously and saw something disturbing in his green eyes: excitement. I realized then that Arthur wanted this to happen. That he was having fun. Arthur continued, "It means, I don't want to know just yet."

"I don't understand," I said.

"It's called living, James. You should try it some time."

I saw that all exits were now blocked, with men even standing outside the open windows.

"But can't you just turn us invisible or something?" Lord, what was I saying?

"Perhaps, my friend. But I won't. Some things must be played out. Some things must first happen before other, greater things, can follow. Life must be lived. Life must be experienced."

"Well, I don't want to experience having a sword run through my gut," I said.

Outside, the men had parted to allow a tall figure to pass between them. A tall figure dressed entirely in black.

"Then I suggest you choose not to," said Arthur, his eyes fastened on the man in black. "I suggest you thank God in advance for seeing you through this night, so that the three of us can journey on into the Underworld."

"Why the Underworld?"

"Because we must first pass through the Underworld, my friend, before we can continue on into the Land of Faery."

My head was swimming. I needed someone to slap me. Hard. "And what's in the Land of Faery?" I asked.

"The Holy Grail, of course."

"And why is it there?" I asked.

"For safekeeping," said Arthur.

"Yes, of course," I said. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"You did," said Arthur, winking. "It was your idea a long time ago."

The figure dressed in black moved swiftly through the column of men, his dark robe swirling about his ankles. One of his men held out a torch for him, but he waved it off. Instead, he snapped his fingers once, and a ball of yellow fire rose up from his palm and drifted over the stone chapel, lighting his way as he approached.

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