The Midnight Man is under guard at a camp of Mordred’s men.
Midnight Man — Greatest Vigilante in the World — protects civilization from predators both human and cosmic. From deep within his hidden Midnight Cave, he strikes out against all things evil, and always before they strike first. He is a Shadowy Paladin who instills fear in the hearts of all those who wish to do injustice to others.
More myth than man, the ultimate realization of humankind, he is the only thing that stands between us and the darkness…because, Midnight Man is DARKER than the darkness…
Chapter 3: Escape!
“So,” asked Sir Affelette sipping back his mead, “Who are you?”
The Midnight Man had constructed a story for himself. “I do not know,” he told them. “I have no memory from before this morning.”
“You do not know your own name?” asked Korone.
“I do not.”
“And you found yourself naked and without your past?” asked Affelette.
“Yes,” said the Midnight Man. “I know not where I came from, or where I must be going.”
“Perhaps you were a warrior, injured after a battle?” said Affelette.
“One of Arthur’s warriors?” suggested Korone.
“No,” Midnight Man said. “I was no warrior. I can sense … killing is not in my blood.”
Affelette laughed at this. “Well, perhaps you were a priest.”
“Perhaps,” said the Midnight Man.
“Then that is what we will call you — Priest. We could use a priest here. God favors us, this we know, but we could use a man who could speak directly with Him.” Affelette said, nodding to the heavens.
“I cannot promise as much,” Midnight Man said. “But I can swear peace.”
“Sounds like a priest alright,” said Korone, lowering his guard.
“Yes,” said Affelette. “Perhaps you were cursed by a witch or a devil. I do not know, but your mystery shall entertain us while we wait for sign of Arthur. A good omen, I think, to rescue a priest.”
Korone snorted.
The Midnight Man said nothing.
Night fell. The knights sat around a fire on the beach, sharpening their swords and readying for war. Midnight Man sat in a circle with Affelette and Korone, watching as the orange sky turned blue and gray.
The Midnight Man carefully gambled. “Tell me, do you know the name Merlin?”
Affelette eyed him with suspicion. “If you are without memories, how do you know that name?”
“I cannot say,” The Midnight Man said, innocently. “It hovers in the fog of my thoughts.”
“That wizard is no more,” said Korone. “He was tricked by his lover, Nimue, into a prison he will not escape from. He is gone.”
“Yes,” said Affelette. “No longer will his sorcery choke this island.”
“Perhaps he is the one who did this to me,” Midnight Man suggested, speaking the truth. In fact, Merlin had done this to him.
“If you are an enemy of Merlin, you are a friend to us,” said Affelette.
“Not necessarily,” Korone pointed out.
“He sounds like an enemy,” continued the Midnight Man, hoping to gain their trust.
“Well worry no more,” said Affelette. “For the wizard will not trouble us any longer.”
“And what about this, Nimue?” asked Midnight Man. If Merlin is locked in a prison, how can he get back to his time?
“She is of no matter to us,” said Affelette. “The time of the druids has ended. Christ is our lord now. Christ and Mordred.”
The Midnight Man nodded. He said no more. He was tired, and he could still faintly feel the effects of time travel. His lethargic eyes roved the hillside. Something caught his eye — something silver in the dusk light.
Silver hair. Merlin.
Midnight Man squinted his eyes. Yes, there he was, about fifty yards up —
Young Merlin hid behind a large rock, watching the camp below.
Affelette and Korone retired to their tents while the rest of the men went to sleep, save for two sentries who kept a vigilant watch. The Midnight Man found a place to lie down away from the warriors and settled onto his back to look up at the starless sky. He was bone tired, but he knew sleep was a dangerous luxury he could not afford. He was typically a light sleeper. Using a technique he learned as a young man in Korea, he dosed slightly, always with part of his senses guarding him in the real world. It allowed his body to rest without losing awareness of the dangers around him.
After a few hours of this, he noticed quiet, measured footsteps coming towards him. As this interloper drew close, the Midnight Man sprung awake and knocked the stranger from his feet, casting the man onto the ground, where he climbed atop him and grasped his throat, all without a trace of a sound.
“What is your business?” Midnight Man whispered like an artful scalpel, not wanting to wake anyone else.
“If you want to live, you’ll come with me,” the man croaked. He was in his fifties, gray-haired, with a tyrannically shaven face.
“Why should I believe you?” asked Midnight Man.
“Merlin,” the man breathed.
They looked each other in the eye. Midnight Man let him up. They crept silently through the camp disturbing nothing. Midnight Man wondered if this was a trap. What choice did he have?
They bypassed the sentries and made their way up the beach, where the old man had two horses waiting. They mounted the horses and rode off, just as alarm sounded in the camp.
“Do you think they’ll follow?” Midnight Man’s rescuer joked.
“I think they will,” Midnight Man replied without mirth.
“They’ll suspect murderous treachery,” his companion pointed out.
“Then we better hurry.”
They rode hard, and they rode fast.
“Who are you?” Midnight Man shouted over the thunderous hoofbeats of their horses.
“I am Sir Durant, servant of the King and the Round Table. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“You have? Do you know who I am?”
“Of course! You are the Midnight Man. The Shadow Paladin. The knight from beyond the Western Sea to help us.”
Farfetched — yes, but was it as farfetched as a time traveler?
“Yes,” acknowledged Midnight Man. “That is where I have come from. Where is Merlin?”
“Well,” said Durant. “That is a complicated question.”
“Why?”
“Well — now there are two of them. Or one of him, but younger now.”
“He has brought me here,” said Midnight Man.
“We ride to meet him.”
“And what happened to the other?”
“That is not certain. But rumor has it he was betrayed by his lover, Nimue, who stole Merlin’s power, and imprisoned him in a crystal trap he can never escape.”
“I have heard the same,” said Night Shepherd, regrettably. He thought for a moment. “What does the younger Merlin say about it?”
Durant laughed. “I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to make such polite conversation with the young wizard. I will tell you this: this young Merlin’s magic is haphazard, at best.”
“How so?”
“I saw him accidentally light his robe on fire, when he was just writing a letter to the King. And he made a love potion for a friend of mine that turned him into a poetry-reciting swine.”
This was new knowledge to the Midnight Man. Well — the time machine had worked.
“Sir Midnight,” said Durant, sensing the Midnight Man’s qualms, “perhaps you will be killed and won’t have to worry about any of these dilemmas!” He nodded his head behind them. “They’re following!”
“Where are we going?” asked Midnight Man.
“I know of caves further up the shore. I know them well. If we can reach them, we are saved. Merlin waits inside.”
“Won’t they follow?”
“We’ll seal the entrance behind us with burning oil I have secured in the cave for the occasion.”
“Sounds like a dead end.”
“It’s no dead end, as you say,” promised Durant. “There is an entrance … and further in there is an exit — that leads us to the forest to the east. And even once our foes get past the fire, they do not know that cave. Only I do.”
The Midnight Man smiled. Sounded like a plan he himself could have thought of. If he believed in Providence, this would be a perfect time to thank it. “What is our plan?”
“Once we bypass the cave, we’ll head to a village to the northeast, Chronham, which is immortally loyal to the court. There, my men are waiting.”
“Has Mordred seized the castle?”
“He has. There is word he has had his way with the queen.”
“And what are we going to do about that?”
“We are to rescue her of course,” said Durant. “That’s why you’re here, is it not?”
“Yes,” agreed the Midnight Man. “That is why I am here.” He had long ago mastered disguising puzzlement on his face.
