“Time out,” Ere cut in between them. “Debate later, act now. What’s the plan?”
“We liberate Merlin, break the spell, and together, repossess his Eye,” Morgan declared.
“The Eye he’s got or the Eye he hasn’t got?” Ere asked.
The witch frowned with irritation.
“Naturally the Eye he’s missing,”you duncewas left unsaid.
“Where is it?” Rui inserted.
“In one of Guinevere’s secret chambers,” Morgan responded. “I have never been able to find it, no matter how I used my magic to try. The fog in the castle weakens my powers. This is why we need Merlin with us to recover it.”
“I thought the Eye was yours,” Ere said.
“Of course, ’tisn’t mine,” Morgan retorted. “Do I look like a dragon missing an eye?”
Ere glared feelingly. Gods save him from sarcastic witches.
“I only put spells on it so Guinevere can control it.”
“Why would you help her?” Rui asked.
“Not by choice,” Morgan said defensively. “She has Arthur’s life in the palm of her hand. Literally. I’ve seen how she can easily make him writhe in pain and spew blood with just a crook of her little finger. I don’t know how she got control of him like that. It happened gradually. He was infatuated with her at first sight, married her and made her queen practically overnight. By the time I first saw them together, he was already under her spell. Though, at the time, it seemed harmless. Like any lad under any pretty lass’s spell.”
“When did you detect aught was amiss?” Wolfe asked.
“When he started aging prematurely. He always seemed hearty and hale when he went off to war. He was invincible. Truly the fiercest warrior in these lands. But every time he came back, after even a night with his queen, he would look gaunt and depleted the next morning. Listless. His eyes blank. And then, he’d go off again into battle, and return good as new despite whatever wounds he accumulated fighting off invaders. Somehow, he always looked weakest during the interludes between campaigns.”
Morgan looked away from the group, murmuring more to herself.
“Over the last years, I think he finally realized what she was doing to him. Perhaps the love spell, or whatever hallucination she has him under, has worn off. In moments of lucidity, I can see the hatred in his eyes for Guinevere. Of course, she knows it too. She keeps him closer and for longer periods than before, likely to strengthen her hold over him.”
“This must be why Lancelot, Modred and Gawain lead battles more and more instead of the king,” Wolfe said. “I have heard the talk amongst the men at the front. When Arthur is there, he appears to be a mere figurehead. He simply sits atop his horse and watches the action from the high ground.”
He refocused on something else Morgan said.
“How did Guinevere gain possession of the Eye in the first place?”
Morgan frowned.
“I do not know.”
“How was Merlin imprisoned?” Wolfe persisted. “He is a powerful dragon.”
“I can only speculate,” Morgan answered. “I have not seen him myself. Like I said, as the stories go, Merlin defeated the white dragon for Uther at great cost to himself. I suppose that’s when he lost his eye, though I do not know how Guinevere came to possess it. Perhaps he was too weakened by the battle to guard himself against the queen’s sorcery.”
“He was powerful even after he lost an eye,” Wolfe recalled with a growl. “I saw him. He was a fucking monster.”
“What sorcery does Guinevere have?” Rui put in, distracting the focus from Wolfe’s hatred of the dragon.
“What sorcery doyouhave, Morgan?”
“I believe I inherited my Gift, if you could call it such, from my mother,” Morgan replied.
“Your mother as well,” she said to Wolfe, looking at him.
He looked away.