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Author's Chapter Notes:

Here's the conclusion of the League's origin. It contains some foreshadowing for what may turn into League Book 4 (this dang thing's turning into a novel, LOL). As always, I really appreciate anyone who reads and comments on these stories. I know they're not the usual fare for the GTS scene.

Part 5

With the group assembled, Merlin and his new allies began the journey back to Britain. Princess Haru, not wishing to be parted from Issun, got leave to accompany them from her father, the daimyo. This presented an issue, for the full-sized princess required use of the bench that the little people had previously inhabited in the Barge of Avalon. Rather than risk being sat upon, they found themselves once again in her lap, which proved a much softer and more pleasant way to make the trip.

 

“Now, this is traveling in style!” Thumbling declared, settling down and getting comfortable—perhaps a little too comfortable. Issun frowned at him and placed a hand threateningly on the hilt of his katana.

 

They arrived back in Camelot that evening and the four little people stood on the edge of the Round Table where they were presented to King Arthur. Queen Guinevere and Lady Viviane, however, had pushed past the king to get a better look and were now crouched down and cooing over the tiny creatures.

 

“How simply precious!” Viviane cried.

 

“Hullo, little ones,” Guinevere said. “Gracious, this one is even smaller than you, Sir Tom!” She reached out and tickled Issun-boshi. Princess Haru shifted uncomfortably nearby. As a guest in a foreign land, she did not wish to offend the ruling monarchs. Nonetheless, she stood ready to snatch Issun away if these women stepped out of line.

 

“Aww, they have tiny little swords,” the queen observed. “How sweet!”

 

“We’re all adults here,” Thumbelina muttered to her companions. “Must they fuss and baby-talk like that?”

 

“I don’t really mind,” said Thumbling, allowing Viviane to scratch under his chin with her fingertip.

 

“Yes, very amusing,” Arthur said, seemingly unimpressed. “You found the individuals you sought, Merlin. Now, what is it that you plan to do with them?”

 

“Think, Arthur!” the wizard told him. Arthur flinched slightly, for this phrase brought back memories of his days as Merlin’s pupil. He half-expected to be turned into a bird or a fish as the magician continued.

 

“Think what can be done with beings this small yet possessing the full intelligence of a normal man. They are the perfect candidates for espionage. With such minute dimensions, they could infiltrate the camps of our enemies, unseen and unnoticed, and report back to us on their activities. Imagine it, a League of Homunculi—Camelot’s personal spies, invisible to all!”

 

Arthur stroked his beard thoughtfully, considering this proposal. “Yes, I begin to see the advantage. But if they were discovered, I fear our wee friends would be killed with relative ease.”

 

“These homunculi are by no means defenseless,” Merlin insisted. “Thomas has been trained as a knight. Issun-boshi has the skills of a samurai, the great warriors of the East. Princess Maia has the magic of the Fair Folk at her disposal. And the Thumbling is a crafty trickster.”

 

“All well and good,” said Arthur. “But a three-inch man is still a three-inch man, skills and abilities notwithstanding. A well-placed foot could be the end of him, if you will excuse my bluntness, small ones.”

 

“Your concerns are understandable, your majesty,” Tom admitted. “But I beg of you, allow us to prove ourselves before you dismiss the idea. We have already faced and overcome dangers to arrive here.”

 

The king could see the fire of determination in the tiny knight. Tom, it seemed, was most eager to command a unit of similar beings, to finally feel useful to his lord in a manner other than dancing in ladies’ palms or performing tricks on the royal banquet table.

 

“Very well,” the High King said. “But I will require a trial run before I am convinced, a mission for these wee folk to carry out. Let me see…”

 

“I may have a suggestion, my love,” Guinevere told him. “Princess Elaine of Corbenic is staying at court this evening for tomorrow’s spring festival. I believe that she has in her possession a stolen ruby ring which rightly belongs to me.”

 

“Why would she have such a ring?” Arthur inquired. This made the queen visibly uneasy.

 

“That is…unimportant,” insisted Guinevere. “Suffice it to say that I would dearly like it returned to me. We could send these little ones to confirm my suspicions and perhaps retrieve the ring via stealthy means.”

 

Arthur thought about this for a moment. “Very well. That seems as good a proposition as any. Sir Tom, you and your allies will infiltrate Elaine’s chambers without alerting the lady to your presence. Find this ring, if indeed she has it, and fetch it for the queen. If you can do this, I will consider employing your League of Homunculi.”

 

“It shall be done, my liege,” Tom announced, beaming with pride. The League had their first mission.

 

* * * *

 

Elaine of Corbenic hailed from a distant and mysterious kingdom about which many legends were told. Its ruler (Elaine’s father) was old Pelles, the so-called Fisher King. Many tales were whispered of these two for it was believed that they were guardians of some ancient and sacred relic. Some claimed it to be the Grail, the cup of Christ himself. As such, King Pelles’s realm was affected by many strange enchantments which vexed knights questing within its borders.

 

As the homunculi walked down a shadowy hallway, they listened wide-eyed while Tom related these rumors. “Why would a lady entrusted with a holy artifact stoop to stealing someone’s jewelry?” Thumbelina asked.

 

 “I don’t know,” said Tom. “But I suspect it has something to do with Sir Lancelot.”

 

Elaine was deeply in love with Sir Lancelot, though to all appearances, he did not return her feelings. The rumor at court was that the brave knight of Gaul was hopelessly smitten with Queen Guinevere herself. If Elaine held a ring belonging to the queen, her romantic rival, that was surely no coincidence. She was left to pine for Lancelot in silence, and would likely resort to anything to win his love.

 

In truth, this was a wretched condition that she shared with another Elaine, the Fair Maid of Astolat, who had also fallen in unrequited love with the knight. For that matter, Elaine was also the name of Lancelot’s mother, the Queen of Benwick far across the sea. As such, Lancelot had to resist running for the hills whenever a woman introduced herself as “Elaine.” And for whatever reason, there were a many of them in that era – Elaines of Corbenic and Astolat, of Benwick and Garlot, of Listenoise and the Fens.

 

“What is with this name?” Thumbling threw up his hands in exasperation after Tom had finished. “Do people in Britain have no imagination?”

 

“Hush now,” Tom ordered him. “We’re here.”

 

The four little figures slipped under the door of Elaine’s guest suite. It was late at night and they assumed that the princess had already retired to bed. As they crept through the blackness of the chamber, this assumption was sorely challenged for all at once, the ground began to rumble. Again and again it shook with the footsteps of an enormous form. The homunculi could still see nothing and began to panic, unsure of which direction to flee. Finally, Thumbelina removed a phial of faerie potion from her belt. The tiny beaker glowed slightly with an inner light, allowing the little folk limited vision in the dark room.

 

It was not a moment too soon. High above, they saw the shape of a large, bare, feminine foot. Its wrinkled sole hovered over them and each dainty toe was bigger than their heads (or, in Issun’s case, bigger than his whole body). As the foot descended, the team scattered, narrowly escaping before it touched down with a crash. Oblivious, Princess Elaine continued across the room and lay down on the bed.

 

Tom’s heart was pounding in his chest and it took a moment to catch his breath again. “A well-placed foot indeed,” he muttered, echoing Arthur’s words.

 

The wee folk hid themselves until the sounds of rhythmic breathing and the occasional snore reached their ears. Satisfied, they began to search the room, clambering up atop the furniture by the light of Thumbelina’s potion. Elaine had no jewelry boxes and the queen’s ring did not seem to have been left lying about. There was no sign of it on the bedside table, nor in any of the drawers which they managed to pry open with difficulty. Feeling a sense of dread, they gathered at the edge of the table and confirmed their worst fears—the ring was still on the princess’s finger.

 

Silent as mice, they hopped across the gap from the table to the bed, landing on the soft field of a massive blanket. The vast body of Elaine stretched out before them like a human mountain. Her figure formed the occasional hill below the covers and they could see silken curtains of golden hair draping down across the pillow. In her unconscious state, Elaine’s hand was draped absently across her chest.

 

With shrugs of acceptance, the homunculi began to scale the bedding. A moment later, they found themselves atop the blanket, standing on the princess’s belly. The ground rose and fell gently beneath them and they tiptoed cautiously up the length of her torso, balancing precariously.

 

With care, they set about trying to slide the ring off the sleeping giantess’s finger. While their teammates pulled, Issun and Tom had boldly clambered onto the top of the lady’s hand to push at the ring from behind. The bump of her knuckle proved an obstacle however, for the ring was designed for another woman and fit too snugly on the princess’s finger. The wee folk pushed and pulled with all their strength but only succeeded in moving the golden band a fraction of an inch. Issun in particular was straining mightily. The large ruby of the ring was nearly as big as he was.

 

All of a sudden, they felt the living landscape beneath them begin to stir. The homunculi fled as Elaine’s hand started to lift but Issun found that he’d gotten his foot wedged under the band of the ring. As the hand rose and tilted ever so slightly, Issun clutched himself against the jewel, both for balance and to try and remain inconspicuous.

 

Still half-asleep, the princess reached up and scratched her nose. Issun was immediately dislodged and fell onto the surface of her face, landing right between her closed eyes. In the pitch blackness, he couldn’t see where he was or how to navigate his way to safety. Fearing for their comrade, the others were ready to climb up and assist him. But so many tiny feet upon her face would surely awaken the woman. Motioning for the others to stay put, Thumbelina lifted the glowing phial and quickly took to the air. She glided gracefuly over Elaine’s face and grabbed Issun’s hand, pulling him to safety. But the sudden breeze had awakened the princess.

 

 

 “Eh? What on Earth was that?” Elaine mumbled, sitting up.

 

Fearing to be spotted, Thumbelina hid the potion back in her belt-pouch. Elaine looked about fruitlessly in the dark, hearing the flutter of tiny wings. Clearly, Camelot had a pest problem of some sort. As she fumbled to light a candle at the bedside table, she reminded herself to speak with the king about it in the morning.

 

A faint, flickering light soon illuminated the chamber and Elaine turned back towards the bed to check for further creatures. The League froze in fear, exposed at last. Elaine gasped as she caught sight of the tiny figures at the foot of the bed.

 

Thumbelina swooped away with Issun as swift as an arrow while Tom and Thumbling jumped down to the floor. Elaine threw off the covers and gave immediate pursuit, her richly embroidered night gown swaying at her ankles.

 

“Wait, please!” the colossal princess called.

 

In but a few steps, she had overtaken the fleeing little men. Elaine placed a dainty foot in front of them, blocking their path. Tom slammed right into the side of this appendage and fell over backwards while Thumbling simply vaulted over it. His mischievous pranks had given him plenty of practice escaping from angry giants.

 

Dropping to a crouch, Elaine swept Tom into her hand and reached out after Thumbling. Though fast, Thumbling’s little strides had not yet taken him beyond the reach of her arm. Seconds later, he too was the princess’s prisoner.

 

“Sweet Jesu,” Elaine breathed, staring with disbelief at the tiny human-like forms struggling in her hands. “What are you?”

 

“Let them go!” Thumbelina shrieked, swooping about Elaine’s head like an angry hornet. Issun was still in her arms, shutting his eyes to their imposing height in the air. Elaine shifted her captives to the same hand and reached out to grab this flying figure as well. After a few tries, she succeeded, closing her fist around Thumbelina. Soon, all four of them were enclosed in the woman’s delicate fingers.

 

“I repeat…what are you?” Elaine said, staring down at them. “I’ve never seen such little people before. And believe me, one sees many strange things in my father’s enchanted land.”

 

Tom eventually stopped struggling and looked up into the lovely blonde noblewoman’s eyes. “We are the League of Homunculi, duly designated agents of Camelot. As loyal servants of the Pendragon, we demand that you release us at once!”

 

Elaine’s lips curled into a smile and she gave a slight giggle. She squeezed her hands tighter around her hostages, provoking groans and renewed squirming. “I hardly think you’re in a position to issue demands, little one. Especially not to the Lady of Corbenic. But let’s say I believe you. What then were you doing in my bedroom?”

 

Tom looked questioningly at his teammates but the others nodded their ascent. The game was clearly up.

 

“We were sent for your ring,” the tiny knight said at last.

 

“My ring?” said Elaine, turning her hand to the side to look at the ruby. Thumbling and Tom were tilted sideways as she did this and began to feel a bit dizzy.

 

“Whatever for?”

 

“The High Queen believes it belongs to her,” Thumbelina explained.

 

“Ah,” Elaine said, understanding at last. She turned her hand back and righted the little men (much to their relief). “I suppose it does. I had forgotten. My serving-woman fetched me something of Guinevere’s as part of…an elaborate deception.”

 

“Did it have to do with Sir Lancelot?” Tom inquired. Elaine’s eyes grew wide

 

“I’ve said too much,” she muttered. “But it seems you’ve already guessed part of it. I feared so. One cannot keep a secret forever.”

 

The little people became somewhat nervous at this. They were still (quite literally) in the princess’s clutches. If she felt they knew too much, would she simply stomp the four of them flat?

 

Thankfully, Elaine was too demure to even consider such an action. And in truth, her guilty conscience made her glad to get the secret out in the open at last. She sat down on the bed and set the homunculi on the bedspread beside her. The lady placed her hands around them in a semi-circle until she was certain they wouldn’t run away.

 

“No scurrying off please. We trust each other then?” she asked. “Excellent. Then here is the truth of it: the scheme was that my servant would bring Lancelot to me by cover of night. Hampered by the dark and addled by wine, he would see only the light reflecting off of Guinevere’s ruby. Thinking me the queen, he would at last be mine, if only for one night.”

 

The princess lowered her gaze in shame. “I know it was wrong to trick him. But that night…holding him in my arms, kissing his sweet lips, giving him my love…that was the best night of my life. I would not change it for the world. And even if I can never be with Lancelot again, I still have a part of him with me.”

 

Elaine placed a hand upon her belly, which the homunculi noticed at last was slightly distended. The young woman was pregnant.

 

“My Galahad,” she whispered, rubbing her stomach with affection. “Please understand, I did not do all this purely out of selfishness. My father is sometimes given to prophecy. He believes that the child of Sir Lancelot is destined to achieve the Grail, which so many knights have sought for.”

 

“Sought for?” repeated Thumbling. “I thought you and your father were guarding it or something. What’d you do, mislay the darn thing?”

 

Elaine smiled. “We are its custodians, yes, as our forefathers were, all the way back to Joseph of Arimathea. But even we are not privy to its secrets. And we’re certainly not going to hand it over to just anybody. One day, it is said, a champion will bring the Grail’s glory to the land, healing great wrongs with divine grace. Father is convinced that the son of Sir Lancelot will be—”

 

Tom rubbed his temples, clearly distressed. “This is all too much, my lady. This must be between Lancelot and yourself. The League will not get involved. We ask only for the ring so that we can complete our quest.”

 

“Yes, of course,” Elaine said, sliding the ring off her finger. She handed it to Tom, who clutched it with both hands and stooped slightly from the weight of the jewel. “Promise me you won’t breathe a word of this to anyone. I will tell Lancelot in my own time.”

 

“Of…course…your highness,” Tom agreed, still straining to hoist the ruby.

 

“But in return,” Thumbelina insisted quickly, “you must not tell the king or queen that we were here. This was meant to be a stealth mission, after all.” She smirked up at the towering damsel. The League now had leverage and the tiny princess was prepared to take advantage of it.

 

Elaine smiled down at them. “My lips are sealed, little ones.”

 

* * * * *

 

“Job well done, gang,” Thumbling announced as the League carried the ring down the hallway.

 

Issun shook his head. “What began this night is clearly not over,” he said. “There was more behind this than a simple lost ring.”

 

“You can say that again,” agreed Thumbling. “Holy Grails, divine prophecies, enchanted kingdoms—I’ll say this much, Briton…” He turned to Tom and nudged him in the side with his elbow. “…your life here sure isn’t dull.”

 

Tom remained silent and lost in thought, hardly noticing Thumbling’s teasing comments. Thumbelina turned to their leader with concern.

 

 “What’s on your mind, Tom?”

 

“If what Elaine claims is true,” the little knight said, “Lancelot was only too eager to leap into bed with Queen Guinevere. Or someone he thought was Guinevere. Such an easy betrayal from one of Arthur’s champions is cause for concern. I fear what this may mean for the kingdom.”

 

  “Then we shall have to keep an eye on him,” the faerie princess reasoned.

 

  “A fine idea, ‘Lina!” Thumbling remarked.

 

  Thumbelina raised an eyebrow in annoyance. “’Lina?”

 

 “Would you prefer Sweetcakes?”

 

 “’Lina it is,” she said with a scowl.

 

“Merlin proposed this League to learn the secrets of Camelot’s enemies,” Tom continued. “But it seems there is treachery within the castle’s walls as well. This then is our charge, my friends—to be the ever-watchful eyes and ears of the realm. We shall be unseen, undetected, an invisible presence seeking signs of threat to the kingdom. We will learn the strategies of Arthur’s foes and keep his allies honest. The League of Homunculi will be ever-present, supporting the efforts of the High King.”

 

“Quite a flair for the dramatic you have, Tom,” said Thumbelina with a smile.

 

“Never mind all that,” Thumbling scoffed. “Where are the serving-wenches’ quarters? If all British girls look like that Elaine, I think I’m going to like it here!”

 

* * * *

 

In the tallest tower of the castle, Merlin stood hunched over his scrying pool, deep in thought. Faint images shimmered and danced in the small bowl of water, showing the miniature League’s activities. They’d achieved the ring, as the druid knew they would. Elaine was a gentle soul and would never have harmed them. No, this mission was mere prelude. The homunculi’s true challenges were still to come.

 

As a vision overtook him, Merlin could see the little creatures’ adventures as plain as day. His precognitive gift allowed him to perceive all possible outcomes and identify the connecting threads that would produce them. As such, every man, woman, child, and homunculus in the kingdom were like chess pawns to the wizard. All could play a potential role in his crafting of a kingdom.

 

His reverie was disturbed when the water suddenly rippled and the images reformed themselves into a new pattern. Where four tiny manikins had been, there was only the face of an achingly beautiful woman. Piercing green eyes met the magician’s gaze and long, dark hair as black as a raven’s feathers flowed in an unfelt wind. Though lovely, the lady’s expression was cold, haughty, and filled with scorn.

 

“Hullo, Myrddin,” the vision said. This was momentarily surprising, for the enchanter’s visions were not usually accompanied by sound.

 

“Morgan,” he answered curtly, inclining his head to Viviane’s former apprentice. “Co-opting my scrying pool, eh? An impressive feat. Your power is growing.”

 

“What is this new game you’re playing, old man?” the woman demanded. “Tiny doll-men to carry out your whims? Surely, this is a joke.”

 

Merlin smiled mysteriously. “You’ve caught me, my lady. They’re of utterly no use. Why, whatever was I thinking? I must be reaching senility at last.”

 

Morgan glowered at him below the liquid surface. “Fine then,” she muttered. “Keep your secrets. I know you’re planning something. The actions of the great Lord Emrys are never needless. These wee pixies have some role to play in your schemes.”

 

“Think you so?” the wizard smirked. “They are clever little things, aren’t they?”

 

“I will allow you your amusements,” said the sorceress. “For now. But I warn you, Myrddin…if these creatures cross me, I’ll annihilate them utterly. Grind them to offal under my feet. Just as I will to my brother, Arthur, and his precious knights.”

 

“It need not be war between us,” Merlin stated. “Lady Viviane is here at court. She misses you, Morgan. You were her finest pupil. Give up this foolishness now and you could come back to us.”

 

The woman’s features contorted with rage and the water of the small pool began to boil. “I did not strike the first blow of this war, Emrys! You saw to that when you ensorcelled King Uther! He raped my mother, slew my father, and placed his bastard son on the throne that should be mine! Now Arthur and his pious hypocrites fight for their martyred god. His priests deny the Mother Goddess and condemn my people—OUR people, you traitorous wretch—as heretics and heathens!”

 

“No, Myrddin,” she hissed. “This war has already begun. And to win it, I’d slaughter you, Viviane, the druids of Avalon, and half of Britain itself if I must!”

 

The image of Morgan abruptly vanished, taking the water of the pool with it in a cloud of blazing steam. Merlin stepped back, lest his face be scalded by the heat. He collapsed into a nearby chair, clutching a hand to his temples and feeling the weight from every one of his many years and regrets. After a moment, the aged magician shook off this melancholy and returned to his plans for the kingdom. Four tiny beings, unassuming and supposedly harmless, were never far from his thoughts.


The End (of the Beginning)

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