Chapter 16: 35AD Battlefield-strategist

Sal sliced the enemy. One moment his opponent still stood there, frozen in time, then he simply fell. His body hit the floor, his blood trenching the earth and his head rolling of to cuddle to one of his alleys.

Sal turned away, used to the gruesome pictures death could paint.

He stopped one moment to check his right shoulder. The opponent's blade had ruined his leather-armour and sliced his flesh. He changed his sword-arm, swinging the long knife with his left instead with his right. No problem - he had learned fighting with both hands years ago and the damaged one still could use his staff…

Then his attention turned to his head. He had a bump where a shield had hit him and did not wear a helmet anymore. Blood had clumped his hair and he had to remove some blood from his eyebrows, which was threatening to fall into his eyes.

Head-wound. He felt a little bit dizzy, but it was nothing he could not cope with.

"Alright" he thought and turned again to the battle. "Still a few to go."

And so he went on, searching for a comrade in need, battling the enemy with all he had - be it magic, knowledge or sole strength. He joined the battle, still aware of the enemy and the tiny huts behind him, just protected by his long knife and his will.

Several hours later the battle had succumbed. Here and there were still fighting pairs, but the most of the invaders had been killed, had fled or were prisoners.

Sal sighed and looked again at his hurt shoulder. He had had no time to cleanse it or to bandage it. He had just used a spell to stop the blood-flow and had went on.

Now he touched his wound, really looked at it and sighed. There was no way that this would not scar. He knew that, he had learned that a long time ago.

With practiced moves he removed his tunic and cleansed the wound. The pain was horrible, but he had to do it. Gangrene was nothing he could afford to have.

"Hey, need help there, my friend?"

Sal looked up and saw a goblin coming in his direction.

"This looks pretty awful" The goblin said, taking a look at Sal's shoulder.

"It will heal" Sal answered confidently.

"It will" The goblin answered. "And now let me do this. I will treat it temporary until you can find someone to treat this. I might not be a Healer, but I am a good first aid."

Sal smiled at the goblin.

"I am a Healer" He said, still smiling. "Don't worry - it's nothing grave. It must be cleansed and bandaged, with some potion laced bandages it will heal by itself in a few weeks."

The goblin raised an eyebrow.

"You're a Healer?" he asked astonished. "Are you human Healers so bad at your profession that you have to go to battle to get some praise?"

"No" Sal answered laughing. "I did not join the battle for praise. I had to defend the village." He gestured to the still standing village a few yards away from the battle field. "I joined as soon as the invaders broke through the defence. I could not let them enter the village and hurt the children."

The goblin looked back at the village, then at Sal.

"I never heard of a Healer joining a battle" He said. "No goblin-healer ever would think of that. I thought the human healers were much the same."

"They normally are" Sal answered while letting the goblin bandage him. "But I am no normal Healer."

"You're not?" The goblin asked while wrapping the gauze around Sal's shoulder but then he nodded.

"Yes, you're definitely not." He said. "A children defending, battling Healer is not usual, but a human Healer defending a goblin village against humans is definitely odd."

Sal blinked at these words. He knew he had had no regular contact with other druids but surely…

"So you want to tell me that a… well… normal druid never would have thought of defending the village - just because they're goblins ?!" he asked astonished and appalled.

The goblin looked at him oddly.

"That's the usual behaviour" he said staring at Sal as if he was a foreign species. "Did your master never tell you something like that?!"

With this question he turned Sal's head, looking at the head-wound.

"Why should she?" Sal asked blinking and forgetting that the goblin would maybe know the names, he continued. "Medrawd and I never heard her say something against any other creature - well, except of Medrawd's father. She hates Arthur's guts."

"Medrawd? Arthur?" The goblin asked, now clearly stunned. Then suddenly he grabbed Sal's chin and turned his head so that Sal had to look in his eyes. The death-green eyes of the Healer met the warm, brown eyes of the goblin warrior.

"By the buried treasures!" The goblin exclaimed, still staring at Sal, but now with absolute worship in his eyes. "You're Morgana's son!"

Sal was baffled.

"Uh…" He said. "I'm not Medrawd."

"Of course you're not, child" the goblin answered bemused. "You told me about your brother before."

"Hu?"

"Now hush child, my clan will help you now. You need some rest."

"But…"

"It's alright child" The goblin said, shaking his head. "I know most of the druids don't like your mother - but you can't deny your ancestry. You have inherited her eyes…"

"I know…" Sal answered while letting the goblin cleanse his head-wound. "She was not sure if she really liked it that I had her eyes while Medrawd…"

"So Medrawd hasn't Morgana's eyes - that's something new, even for the goblin" the goblin said interested.

"Well, no" Sal answered still a little stunned. "He couldn't. He has not the right mind-concept to inherit them. He hasn't the 'people-saving-thing' you must have to inherit the line of Pendragon - and because the LeFay-line has mixed with Pendragon he also hadn't the right mind-set for the LeFay-line's green eyes. It's complicated."

"So you inherited the Family Magick of LeFay because you're not Pendragon?" the goblin asked interested while also starting to bandage Sal's head.

Sal rolled his eyes.

"I am Pendragon" he said. "But unlike Medrawd, I unfortunately have inherit this 'people-saving-thing' - or why do you think I am a Healer and have joined a battle I would definitely have done without?"

The goblin chuckled.

"I see." He said and let Sal go. "I am Vayland by the way."

"Salvazsahar" Sal answered, the goblin raised an eyebrow at the name.

"That's a mouth-full" he said. Sal stared back.

"Not more than Vayland" he countered.

The goblin laughed.

"You might be right, Morganaadth" he answered still chucking. "You might be right."

"Uh… it's Salvazsahar" Sal corrected.

"I know, Morganaadth" the goblin answered, "I know. And now, up with you. We should bring you to a Healer."

"Later" Sal answered. "First I have to aid the wounded."

"You're hurt yourself" the goblin countered, but Sal would hear nothing of it.

"It is my duty to heal" he said. "I am born with gifts - I will not let these gifts go unused just because I have some scratches."

The goblin blinked surprised, then he chuckled again.

"Ever thought about living with us goblins for a while?" he asked.

Sal shrugged.

"No" he answered truthfully. "Never. I have lived with the elves and some other Firbolg - but it just happened. I never thought about living with any of them until I did, why?"

"Well, because I would invite you to." Vayland answered. "You seem to fit in our culture without trying - so why not testing to live with us."

"Uh…" Sal stared at the goblin in front of him, trying to figure out why he had been invited. "I am not Morgana's son." He finally said, thinking that the invitation might base on that.

"Whatever you say, Morganaadth" the goblin answered while following Sal from patient to patient. "Whatever you say."

Somehow Sal doubted that the goblin really did believe his words…

But now, he had no time to argue with the goblin. Instead he had a job to do - and a horrible job it was.

The goblin had won against the wizards - but the price was high. Sal finally decided to put the most of the wounded in stasis and continue on. He would have to treat them later - now he had to try and put as much under stasis as he could to save their lives.

"What are you doing?" Vayland asked him while following him over the battlefield.

"Stasis-runes" Sal answered. "Most of them are too hurt to live on without them. I have to stop their death before healing them."

Finally the rest of the small battles succumbed and other healers started to fill the battlefield.

"Put them under stasis and move on" Sal advised. "There are too much too gravely hurt to heal them thoroughly now. For the less hurt use simple first aid. We have to stop the dying first."

The other healers followed his advice instantly, no one questioned his authority. Maybe no-one dared to question it. Sal was an experienced healer - he was field healing people since more then five hundred years, even if he was healing professionally just since ten years - and his experience were showing in everything he did.

Sal did not know it, but all the others - goblin and wizard alike - could see the aura of authority and power around his person. No-one dared to question it.

And Sal was right. They worked three days straight before the last stasis charms could be lifted. Later this battle would written down as the 'Great battle of the North Fields' and it would be marked as the battle with the least dead.

But while Sal was working with the stasis-charms and all his abilities he never thought of history. He just saw the lives that threatened to end and his ability to prevent it. Of course he could not rescue all. Some were injured too much and some had died while the battle was still on. But a lot of deaths could be prevented.

When it finally ended, Sal was utterly exhausted. His shoulder hurt and he could not see straight anymore. He finally just succumbed to his exhaustion and fell unconscious after he ended the final stasis of the last of the wounded.

He woke up two days later in the care of the goblin healers. Next to his bed stood Vayland and another, more impressive looking, elderly goblin. Both goblins looked a lot alike so Sal guessed that the older goblin was Vayland's father.

"So you are finally awake, Morganaadth" Vayland said, looking down at him, then he gestured to the elderly goblin. "My father Gringooed" he said. "Father wanted to see you as soon as you wake up."

The other goblin scrutinized him. "We are impressed" he finally declared with a voice that sounded like coming from a tomb. "We goblin never have seen someone like you before. Being able to cast stasis-charms like that and after that healing the wounded - impressive."

Vayland nodded enthusiastic. "Now we know why your mother is feared by so much druids" he added while showing his teeth slightly. Sal would later learn that it was an expression to show your graditued.

Sal just blinked surprised and a little bit unsure. He still felt tired and it took a moment before he could catch on.

"I am a Healer" he finally said, trying to downplay his deeds. "I am here to prevent death as good as I can. I had to give my all."

The other, elderly goblin snorted.

"And that you did. First shielding our young and old ones and after that rescuing our warriors. And you even aren't one of us." Sal just shrugged.

"It does not matter." He answered.

"Oh, but it does" Gringooed said. "As chieftain of the goblin nation it is my duty to repay the debt we have. But what is enough to repay the debt of our lives? There is not enough gold on this earth to repay what you have done for us."

"I do not need repayment" Sal answered. "And you aided me when I was hurt - that should be repayment enough."

"But it isn't" Vayland and Gringooed insisted before Gringooed continued. "I spoke with the elder-council. We decided there is just one way to repay you. We will make you one of us. You will be a clan-leader and your family will be part of the goblin nation."

Sal stared at him unbelievingly.

"I thought you would not let druids join your world."

"Normally we don't. But you are special" Gringooed answered shrugging. "Even if there are some elders who would like it more if you were a Firbolg like us and not… a druid." He grimaced.

Sal stared at the grimacing goblins in front of him, then he finally decided to ease the unease the two goblins were feeling.

"I am not human" he said and Vayland and Gringooed blinked surprised.

"Mother was an Olde one and father also. I cannot be a human because I do not have a human soul at all." Sal explained and suddenly Gringooed grinned.

"So I am able to present you as a Firbolg-born - and as such as a mixed Firbolg." Gringooed summarized.

"Well… yes" Sal answered nervously.

"But you don't have the abilities of your inheritance?" Vayland asked interested.

"Well, some I have" Sal answered. "I can heal with my tears like the Phoenix I am descendent from and I am poisonous like the Basilisk."

Sal decided to skip that he also could kill someone with his gaze or the fire of Arthur if he really wanted to. He also skipped the Family Magick of Morgana. It would not go over well to frighten the goblin.

Gringooed instead grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"Did you use your tears to heal some of the goblins?" he asked interested.

Sal just shrugged.

"Some" he answered. "But they are my last resort. It is tiring to produce tears to heal. They are laced with my magic - and as such I will tire if I use them too often."

The goblin just nodded.

"That would explain why a Phoenix does not often heal others with its tears" he said thoughtfully. "Their power might be unbelievable strong - but the price they pay is high so they save it for the last resort."

Sal just shrugged again.

"Maybe" he answered, not really caring. Well, he did not care until he remembered his second year at Hogwarts and the fight with the Basilisk. Fawks had done everything to aid him - he even had finally healed him. Why?!

When it took as much strength as it did for Sal, why did the Phoenix heal him at all?

His thoughts were interrupted by Vayland.

"Are you able to stand up, Morganaadth?" he asked. Sal nodded tiredly. He slowly stood up and followed father and son out of the cottage he was in.

They still were in the village Sal had helped to defend. But now the market place of the village wasn't deserted like it had been while the fighting had taken place. Instead a council of several old goblins was waiting for them.

"So this is the human that defended us, chieftain" one of the old goblins said.

"He is the one who defended us" Gringooed answered. "But my son was mistaken. He isn't a human at all."

As soon as he said that the atmosphere changed. Where there had been distrust before there was suddenly a hopeful surprise in the air.

"So, what is he then if he isn't a druid?" the same old goblin said.

"He is a Firbolg-born. A child of the Firbolg - and his soul is as non-human as ours" Vayland replied for his father.

"And do you have other evidence then his words?" the old one asked.

"Several of our warriors have been healed by Phoenix tears - that is something the healers have told us themselves. What we did not know was that it had been his tears as he is a Phoenix-born." Gringooed answered.

"Have you seen it yourself, chieftain?"

"No."

"Then you did believe him because he told you that?" the old one said. "We cannot believe something on hear-say."

"I don't think that Morganaadth would lie to us" Vayland answered for his father. "There is no reason…"

He trailed of when suddenly murmurs erupted between the old goblins. Then the speaker of them stepped forward until he reached Sal and turned his face so that he could see Sal's eyes.

"You really have Morgana's eyes" he said surprised. "Tell us - are you really her son as Vayland said or are you simply someone who has eyes like her?!"

Sal opened his mouth to deny his relationship with Morgana but instead he answered. "I am her son."

"With whom, child?"

"My fathers are Arthur Pendragon and Myrddin Emrys."

When he closed his mouth again he saw a rune flicker in the air. A truth-rune. Sal cursed inwardly. He had been asked if he was Morgana's son. As she had adopted him he really was - even if she hadn't birthed him. As he could not lie he had told them the truth - and this truth contained that he was Morgana's son, if he wanted or not.

"So you are Medrawed."

"No. My name is Salvazsahar. I am the younger one." And he was as he had been adopted by Morgana after Medrawed had been born.

And suddenly the elder goblin smiled. It was a little bit frightening to see the sharp teeth of the goblin, but Sal dismissed the unsettling feeling he had and crafted a mask on his face.

"The son of Morgana LeFay and Arthur Pendragon" the goblin finally said, forgetting that Sal also had added Myrddin's name to his parents. "A child born to two families that are still counted as Firbolg among us even if they truly are the descendants of Firbolg. As your parents both are counted as one of us there is no problem to count you as a Firbolg as well."

"So there is no objection in claiming him as kin to us goblin?" Gringooed asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Non at all, chieftain. Forgive me, I doubted your lead."

"As you shouldn't have" Gringooed said coolly but then he nodded and turned to Sal.

"Welcome home, Morganaadth, child of Morgana and Arthur. Welcome to the way of the goblin." Years later Sal would learn that those words where the traditional greeting a chieftain or a clan-leader greeted a new-born babe.

"And now" Vayland said. "We will do something against that pitiful thing you call a weapon. I could not stand the sight of this thing in battle - and I definitely will not let a clan-leader of the goblins run around aimed with garbage!"

Sal stared at the goblin, then his gaze followed Vayland's gaze to his short sword.

"It has aided me well" he finally said and Vayland snorted.

"It is nothing a respectable goblin would be seen with" Vayland said. "You are a clan-leader - you would die before carrying a… thing… like that!"

"Er… I would?"

"Yes!" Vayland replied. "And now come along. I will craft you weapons that are worthy of a healer, defender and clan-leader!" With that he turned and Sal, still feeling a little bit lost, followed the goblin after being literally pushed by Gringooed to follow Vayland.

Vayland was still muttering under his breath about a healer carrying garbage to battle. Sal decided not to comment. He knew his sword was not as good as Arthur's Caledfwlch which had been embodied with magic by Myrddin himself but Sal still thought that his sword was not garbage!

Vayland brought him to a blacksmith's shop - a shop, that Sal learned a minute later, that belonged to Vayland himself. Sal soon learned that even high born goblins like Vayland were working in professions like smiths or farmers. They were high born but they worked like all the other when they had time to do so.

"So - let's look for a suitable steel for your sword" Vayland said, pulling out a weird formed Amethyst.

"Imbed your magic in there, please" he said. "I will be able to work like that much better."

"Er… all right…" Sal softly pulled inwardly at his magic until he was able to lead it into the stone in the hands of the goblin.

The goblin examined the stone, one eyebrow raised.

"You've got an interesting soul" he finally declared and suddenly grinned. "I will love to craft you some weapons! Oh… where to start?! You need some knives - you're definitely better when fighting with knives - but also a sword! No goblin leader should go without a sword!"

"Er… all right?" Sal said hesitatingly when he heard the enthusiastic goblin rumble.

"Silver… you need definitely goblin silver for your weapons… we will imbed shadows in your knives… and emeralds… maybe… and… yes! That will fit! Rubies for your sword… of course also silver… you're magic is not fit for gold…"

"Er… when you think so…" Sal answered while watching the goblin running through his working place, throwing things left and right - diamonds, sapphires, steel blocks and gold landed on the floor while the goblin searched for who knows what.

"Well - that should be enough" the goblin finally said, his hands full with silver, rubies and emeralds. "We will start with the knives! They will be fantastic!"

And the goblin was right.

Sal watched Vayland while he crafted the knives. There were four of them - two throwing knives and two long knives.

When Sal finally had them in his hands he just stared at them.

Engraved just beneath the hilt of the long knives were the words "Salvazsahar" on the first and "Morganaadth" on the second. The blade of all four knives looked like touchable shadows and the engraving glowed in an unearthly eerie green light that matched Sal's eyes.

"Perfect" Vayland had commended when he handed the knives to Sal. "They are absolutely perfect." Then he had returned to his working place to craft the sword.

When the goblin handed the sword to Sal, Sal recognized it instantly. It wasn't the first time he was holding this sword. Years ago - and at the same time years in the future - he would hold it again. There was just one different: This sword had no inscription beneath its hilt. It was made of silver and rubies and a tiny basilisk and phoenix graced the hilt - but the inscription "Godric Gryffindor" was missing.

Sal stared at the sword.

"A master piece" Vayland said. "And definitely better than the garbage you used to carry. It just needs a name - and then it is ready."

"A name?"

Vayland huffed.

"Of course a name! Every sword needs one! Name it and claim it!"

"Er… I have no idea… I never had to name a sword before…"

"No wonder when you just were wearing garbage. I also wouldn't have named that thing you were carrying before!" Sal wisely decided not to commend on Vaylands words. Now, since he had the sword in his hands he could understand why Vayland was claiming Sal's sword was garbage. The sword in his hands simply seemed to fit - like an extra limb.

"Well? Will you stare at it until I am old and grey or will you claim it?"

"I never…"

"Just look at the sword and say the first thing that comes to your mind aloud" Vayland answered.

"Er…" Sal still looked at the goblin quizzically, but then returned his gaze to the blade. It glowed in the light of the fire it had come from. And in his mind he saw it coming out of the head like the legend said Excalibur had come out of the stone…

And before Sal could stop himself he said "Excalibur."

Vayland stared at him.

"Exccaliebor" he repeated. "in Gobbledegook that means 'Basilisk-born' - an interesting choice of a name for a sword. A fitting name when you look at the bearer. Basilisk-born - Exccaliebor - it is."

And runes etched itself in the hilt, stating the name. For a moment they glowed and shimmered over the blade itself, then the runes vanished, leaving an unblemished blade and hilt.

And Sal's only thought was: "What have I done now?!"

He would find out years later.

For the next eight years Sal continued to live with the goblins. He learned a lot from them. He learned to fight with his knives. He learned to speak the language and to act like a goblin. He even learned to craft himself because Vayland insisted. And maybe he would have stayed longer, wouldn't have one day travelled news to them.

"The romans have come to Britannia" the messenger said. "There was a battle with King Arthur and his men. They were able to defeat the romans for now but more are coming and the king's sword, the sword of his father that Myrddin had put into the stone until Arthur was old enough to claim it, has been shattered. Arthur is wounded and there are rumors that he will not see another day…"

When the news reached Sal, he turned to Gringooed and Vayland who had become his family at the goblins.

"I have to go home" he told them.

"Home?" Gringooed asked interested and Sal sighed.

"I might have been taught by my mother the way of the LeFay but I have been living with my father before that. I cannot stand by and watch my father die. I am a Healer, I am his son. It is my duty to heal him to the best of my abilities."

And Gringooed smiled.

"You're a good child. Your parents should be proud of you. Return home - but don't forget: You will always have a place to live in our nation. You have a vault in your name, you have a sword that shows your status, you are a clan-leader of the goblins - you have the right to turn to us if you need us."

With that said he let Sal go.

And that was the time, when Sal was first and forever adopted by the goblins.