Twice the Dragons Duelled: Part I

Merlin

Many decades ago, in the oldest town in Wales, there lived a young boy called Merlin. 

Merlin had hair as black as coal and wild, stormy blue eyes that seemed to hold a certain wisdom far beyond his years. 

The boy could often be found outside the walls of Carmarthen, playing on the banks of the river Towy or running through the woods and meadows. Alone of course, for he was an outcast. 

The town feared him for many reasons. 

The boys his age simply found him strange, so preferred to not play with him. Not that he ever tried to join them. They didn’t really know why, but their parents would pull them in closer whenever they passed Merlin in the streets. 

The parents had more established reasons. Weird things also seemed to happen when Merlin was close by. 

“I swear, on an otherwise calm and still day, a sudden gust of wind hit me as Merlin walked by.” 

“Well, I swear I heard him talking to my cat. But here’s the thing, it sounded like my cat was responding to him! I don’t trust Merlin or my cat for that matter.”

Alongside this, the parents also remembered the rumours of Merlin’s mother from ten years prior. She had been hidden away from the world in a covenant, on her father’s orders. 

Yet, somehow, without any contact from the outside world, she had mothered a child. The father, she claimed, was a spirit that had visited her. The townsfolk brushed this off as a lie, deciding that both the mother and the child were just strange and it best to ignore them.

One day, when Merlin was ten, riders came into Carmarthen. They wore the colours of King Vortigern and bore his seal upon their red cloaks.

“We are looking for a boy with no mortal father.”

The people saw their chance to rid themselves of the boy and his mother, so pointed the men towards the river and told them they’d find a fatherless child down there, probably covered in mud and talking to a fox. 

The riders split into two groups. The first group went to the covenant to collect Merlin’s mother. The second followed the river until they came across Merlin kneeling at the water’s edge. 

They told Merlin that he was to come with them, for the king had summoned him. 

Merlin obeyed and didn’t say a word. In fact, he rose from the riverbank, brushed the muck off his knees, and said, “I know.”

The men felt uneasy, but nevertheless, they lifted Merlin up onto a horse and rode out of the town with him and his mother. 

As they journeyed northward, Merlin was mesmerised by the land unfolding before him. Hills gave way to greater hills, and before long, they were dwarfed by the mountains of Eryri.

At last, they arrived at a royal camp, not too far from the home of Gelert the Brave. The city of tents was bustling with soldiers, craftsmen and cooks. 

Beyond the camp rose a steep hill, littered with debris from what looked like a ruined castle. Yet, the stones were bare of moss and showed no signs of weathering. It was as if the fortress had been built and destroyed that very day. 

Merlin was then brought before King Vortigern himself.

“This is the boy?”

“Yes, my lord,” whispered one of the advisors. “At least, his mother claims he was fathered by an immortal spirit.”

The King studied Merlin from his high throne, his face pale and his eyelids dark from many sleepless nights. 

“If it is true what they say about you, boy, then killing you would break the curse that torments me every night. The curse that leaves me surrounded by rubble every morning.”

Vortigern, the king of the Britons, told Merlin the story of how he came to be driven to these lands by the Saxons. 

Seeking refuge and needing a place of strength, he had chosen the hill near Dinas Emrys to build his new fortress.

Wood was cut, stone was quarried, and deep foundations were laid so work could begin. The workers toiled from dawn till dusk, and by nightfall, the first walls began to rise. 

This was to be a mighty castle. 

Dinas Emrys

But when the sun rose the next morning, the fortress was gone. Every wall had collapsed, as though the earth of North Wales itself had rejected it.

Somehow, no-one had seen what happened. 

Suspecting that Saxon saboteurs had snuck in during the night, the King ordered the work to begin anew and doubled the number of nightwatchmen. 

Again, the walls were raised, and again, by morning they had fallen. 

The guards claimed that it was impossible to stay awake during the night, almost as if the stars were casting a spell on them.

Vortigern tested their claims and found them to be true. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stay awake to witness the construction collapsing in the night. 

He sought advice from his closest advisors and court magicians, who told him that the curse could be broken by sacrificing a boy with no mortal father. 

And now, that boy stood in front of him. 

When Vortigern finished, Merlin was silent for a moment. Then he said, quietly but with a certainty that made everyone lean closer:

“Your fortress falls not because of poor materials, Saxons or a curse, but because of what lies beneath it. You must dig deep into the hill and you shall find the cause of your ruin.”

Vortigern gave the order.

As the men dug, Merlin sat nearby upon a rock.

“While they dig,” he said, “I shall tell you the story of Lludd and Llefelys…”

For Harper

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“The title promised dragons, and not a single dragon showed up. Not even a little one.”

Well, it’s only part I. I promise they are coming.

Much like season 1 of Game of Thrones, you’ll have to just be patient and wait for the dragons.

I wanted to begin with telling the story of young Merlin, and allude to his rather biblical birth story.

Merlin will go on to be a very important figure in British mythology. Alongside the likes of Gandalf and Dumbledore, he is probably the first image that comes to mind when people think of a classic wizard.

Though at this point in his life, he didn’t have the grey beard…or pointy hat.

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