Nightside 11 - A Hard Days Knight

inhumanly slender, she was also naked; but her ivory pale skin was marked with intricate tattoos, from her bald head to her clawed feet. Celtic and Druidic designs, mostly. Her ears had points, and her eyes were golden. Elven blood. A halo of flies buzzed round her head.
    There were no more knights in dark armour, no guards, not even any courtiers. Merlin wanted no witnesses to see him forced to bargain with Stark for the sword Excalibur.
    I came to a halt a wary distance short of the two thrones and nodded casually to Merlin. Suzie sniffed loudly. Merlin smiled happily on both of us.
    “Allow me to introduce Morgan Le Fae,” he said. “Now I am King, she shall be Queen. Because it pleases me.”
    “She reminds me of my mother, Lilith,” I said. “And not in a good way.”
    “My mentor,” said Morgan, in a harsh, rasping voice. “Long ago, now. And my ancestor, of course. So welcome, cousin. The family can always use an infusion of fresh blood.”
    “Okay,” I said. “That was creepy, on a whole bunch of different levels.”
    “Are you an elf?” said Suzie, with her usual bluntness. “I thought Merlin killed all the elves here.”
    “All but this one,” said Merlin. “I thought she had ... potential.”
    “I never liked the others anyway,” said Morgan.
    “I’m not here to talk to you,” I said. “Stark! Stark, where are you? Come on, I know you’re here; I Saw you.”
    He stepped out from behind Merlin’s throne and met my angry gaze impassively. He still wore his fine armour, the helmet tucked under one arm, but the gleaming steel had been fouled with blood and filth and gore. His face was empty, blank of any emotion. There was no sign of Excalibur anywhere about him, and a chill touched my heart as I wondered whether I was too late after all. If he’d already given Merlin the sword ... But no; Stark wouldn’t give up Excalibur without getting what he wanted first. And there was no sign in the Court of his wife Julianne, living or dead.
    “You took your time getting here,” Merlin said to me. “I’ve been expecting you.”
    “You know how it is,” I said. “Taking in the scenery ... things to do, people to kill. You do know we killed King Artur? Suzie blew his head right off, so I wouldn’t recommend trying to bring him back.”
    “His conversation never was that thrilling,” said Merlin. “But I take your point. Yes, I knew he was dead the moment it happened. Pity ... After all the trouble he caused me, I would have enjoyed killing him myself. And the example I would have made of him would have traumatised generations. Still, I would have killed him anyway even if he hadn’t run away. I don’t need him any more. I’ve finally grown tired of the old stories. No more Arthurs; none of them were ever as much fun as corrupting the original. Fallen saints always make the best sinners ... Now I am King, and I have taken Arthur’s sister as my Queen. Ah, the progeny we’ll have.”
    “Oh puke,” said Suzie.
    “Speaking of family,” I said quickly, “we met your brother on the way here. Prince Gaylord the Damned. We sent him back to Hell with his tail between his legs.”
    “Made him cry like a baby,” said Suzie. She let her shotgun drift from Merlin to Morgan Le Fae and back again.
    Merlin laughed abruptly and clapped his hands together in glee. “Happy news! You have done me a service, John Taylor; I owe you! And since I can’t stand to owe anyone anything, your suffering shall be legendary, even in Camelot.”
    “Big talk,” said Suzie, “for a fat man with no clothes on.”
    “Don’t taunt the fat psychopath sorcerer,” said Stark, unexpectedly. We all looked at him, but he had nothing else to say.
    “Stark will be leaving us soon,” said Merlin. “Once we’ve closed our little deal. And then, through him I shall make contact with Queen Mab and her army of elves and use them to conquer your world. Ah me, a whole new world to play with ... I can hardly contain myself.”
    “Try,” said Suzie. “It’s messy enough in here as it is.”
    Merlin looked at her. “One more interruption, and I’ll turn you into something amusing. Where was I ... ? Ah yes; the elves. I’ve often wondered whether I was right to let them stay dead ... I think they would have appreciated what I’ve done with the place.”
    “No,” I said. “The elves, for all their differences, have always understood honour.”
    “And taste,” said Suzie. She grinned nastily at Merlin.