Lethowsow and other stories

[darkisrising]

It's a nice Sunday Sun's out, and it's not too windy, at the very least. Merlin pokes Arthur where he's lying on the sofa checking twitter after breakfast. "C'mon, let's go out for the day."

Arthur looks at him over his cup of tea and phone. "When we say out, do you mean surfing? The waves aren't any good."

Merlin rolls his eyes. "I mean *out*, Arthur. As in out of the town. Away from where we normally go."

Arthur narrows his eyes. "If this involves hiking or one of those bloody national trust gardens, I'm vetoing it. Cafall and I have made an executive decision that mud and green things are wrong today, even if there is cake and homity pie at the end of the walk." He pauses. "Plus half of them will be closed as it's off season.

Merlin rolls his eyes. "No, the ferries might be closed, not the gardens themselves. Anyway, Cafall likes mud and green spaces, Arthur. You're just lazy. Anyway, I was thinking more of Marazion. Show him what different beaches are like, it's a very lazy amble along the path from the station, and we can have a swim if we take our wetsuits. introduce Cafall to jellyfish."

Arthur sips his tea. "It's doable, beaches are doable. Have you checked the tide times?"

"If we go now it'll be an hour after high tide when we get there, and low tide is really low at this time of year so we'll be able to see the stumps of the wood." Merlin says, bouncing up.

"Merlin, if you want to do experimentation, we're leaving you there." Arthur says, getting up and going to rouse Cafall. "Also, we're not going up the bloody rock. There is a no-hiking clause in this trip, and a ruddy great sheer rock sticking out of the sea counts as hiking." He wrinkles his nose. "Plus it's a castle cum house and another bloody garden. Seen enough of those, been in that particular one, and the last time you made me go in there, the tourist guides kept eyeing me suspiciously because I happen to know that there is some frankly obscene graffiti carved into one of the walls behind the curtains and couldn't stop smirking in that room. And the fact that I want to sneak back and check if there's that really weird message still carved into the base of that bear statue from Warwick. Seriously, what were they smoking when they sent that thing over?"

"Probably tobacco." Merlin says. "And drinking coffee. dangerous stimulants a few centuries ago."

"Very funny, you know perfectly well they were using other things as well." Arthur says, poking Cafall, who's found a patch of sunlight and is a bit resentful at having to get up. "but like I said, there is a veto on gift shops and medieval and renaissance leftovers. And big oil paintings of a bunch of people with the same nose and their horses and yappy dogs."

"Nah, boring." Merlin says, head in the cupboard where they keep their wetsuits. "There's been nothing new found there recently anyway." He emerges with them and bustles off to get the towels. "Besides, remember last time we climbed it without going in? That woman ahead of us was wearing heels. Actual heels. and she climbed the entire thing without taking them off."

"Yes, you had a bet going with the little old lady who'd outpaced her WI group on when she'd slip." Arthur says, grabbing the treats. "She made you buy her an ice cream after she won."

"Mm. She did win fair and square, though." Merlin says, getting their trunks and cramming them in with the towels and wetsuits. "Though I dread to think what that woman's bunions were like, they must've been like bloody rocks."

It stays a very nice day, the train ride only has a few yelling kids, and he walk from Penzance station to Marazion and St Michael's Mount is very nice. Brisk and refreshing with enough of a breeze that you need a hoodie. When they get to the beach, cafall has a whale of a time, barking and chasing the tide. then he attempts to creep up on the birds, which is just hysterical. Especially the sand piper possibly curlew who just looks down its beak at him. And then there's the great dane who thinks this yappy little puppy could possibly make a very good apprentice, getting Cafall to mimic it up the beach.

Arthur whistles. "Come on, Cafall, over here." Cafall pauses, shakes himself off and gambols over.

The great dane's owner looks impressed. "That's a good whistle. did you do time with sheepdogs?"

"No, just hunting dogs." Arthur says. centuries and centuries of experience of getting a dog to come when you call for it, and no-one used leashes. and what'll get it to let go of the wolf or deer on command. "There's a kind of training they respond to. The whistle commands become second nature after a bit with any dog." Any time he's got a dog with when he's a kid, everyone's always very impressed at how well a small boy manages to single-mindedly train his new puppy. Or the family pet. He supposes he could set himself up sometime as a trainer and earn a fair bit off that. Currently he's got the café with Merlin, but it's not to say they might not need a sideline at some point. Economy being in the toilet and so on.

The beach gradually widens out, the stone wall taking a jump when it gets to the car parks and before then the public loos that for some reason are now closed, but the sign stating that's only on the door so you can't see until you get there from the beach, bursting for it and no other loos visible for another mile or so, the sharp sea grass and path and sand and ocean stretching out to the sky covered in grey cloud.

As they reach the car park, Merlin puts his hand up to his face, shielding his eyes. "Tell me, German or Danish today?" it's a game they play. Guess the coach parked in the car park.

Arthur glances up and winces slightly. the giant colour photo on the side is particularly horrific today. "German."

"They're always good. Is there a human?" Merlin asks.

"No, no glossy-haired fabulously teethed overly sun bed attached photoshop today." Arthur says.

"Castles?" Merlin asks as cafall bounces around their feet.

"Way off the mark." Arthur says.

"Is it that company we saw last year with the parrots and the palm trees?" Merlin asks.

"Yep. It's just as much an eyesore as it was last time." Arthur says. The red parrot is really a work of horrificness in giant six foot side of the coach stickers. The palm trees only add to its cheesiness. and then there's the cheery German phrase complete with over enthusiastic exclamation point. They tried to speculate last time on which bit was actually the company name and what was the oh so cheery equivalent of 'getting you there to the sunshine in style!' Since it's not like there aren't travel companies called sun seeker happy days.

"It's nice to know they have favourite destinations." Merlin says, leaning down to pet Cafall. "See, Cafall? For when you really want to travel in glorious air conditioned unbelievably clean style, with probably very bad German snacks, choose giant parrots on the side of glossy giant coaches. He pauses, scratching Cafall's ears. "They're better dressed than the Americans but have really strange haircuts."

Finally St Martin's Mount stops being a distant landmark and becomes big enough to be real, a rock with a castle stroke house in the middle of the sea. A bit like Alnwick. Small enough to actually look like a house, but still fortified enough to look like it means business. The ferry boat's at the rock on the beach, waiting for customers.

Arthur and Merlin dump their gear and change into their trunks and wetsuits, splashing into the water, cafall yipping into the shallows behind them. It's shallows for quite a ways, given how long and flat the bay is. "Water's nearly warm enough to not wear these." Arthur says as they stride out, cafall starting to paddle a bit. It'll takes a good few minutes of walking until it'll get up to their knees.

Merlin crouches down and splashes him. "You lie. It's only warm if you're from Falmouth, and that's because their beach is an ice pit." He gets back up, stirring the water thoughtfully. "It might be okayish once the sun's had a chance to warm up a bit, but even then it'll be cold. I'm sticking with the wetsuit."

after a bit, Arthur picks up Cafall as they wade out, since although he's a decent swimmer, at his age there's no guarantee how long he can go for, and the water gets to about 7 or 8 feet deep, especially by the harbour and around the sides of the castle. Too deep if he gets tired and starts to founder, so they head for the rock and the causeway, stopping to let the boat go past.

The man guiding the boat waves, and the tourists stare as they wave cheerily back, not quite able to believe there's people willing to swim across. It's best fun in summer when you can emerge from the rocks from seeming nowhere by the head of the causeway. they just completely forget that it's quite possible to swim, and that the causeway and boat are not the only ways to get across to the castle. It's not like it hasn't been surprised like that before. You just have to be willing to tie your stuff to your head and keep it above water. Fortunately there's very little current, though the rock s are somewhat sharp around it. Arthur will not admit to posing a bit as people gape. the only problem, as Merlin points out, is getting across the rock pools in bare feet. Grit your teeth and bear it, and try not to wobble as you pick your way across them. Emerging at the boat launch is a bit more dignified, since you can just walk up, but it's not as showy-off. Even if a lot of mermaids have done it in their time.

By the time they get to the head of the causeway, Cafall's being held in front of Arthur like a flotation device, barking as his feet go like the clappers as the humans swim, the water having been deep enough for the last fifty yards or so to necessitate swimming. "Annnnd.... feet down." Merlin says as they're over the causeway.

"Remind me why we couldn't have just left him on the beach?"Arthur says as they wade the last few feet. "And they we had to dump our gear over there rather than just wading across the causeway like sensible people?"

"Sensible is no fun." Merlin states as Arthur puts Cafall down. "Now, you explore the rock pools We're going to swim around, we'll be back in a bit. if in doubt, go harass some tourists. look cute, though Pant a bit and cock your head on one side, it helps immensely."

Arthur ruffles Merlin's hair. "Because that's never worked for you, honest."

Merlin looks at him. "How could you ever, ever say that. I'm shocked and insulted."

"Last week. The washing up." Arthur states.

"I also promised a foot massage, if you remember." Merlin says.

"true." Arthur says, bending down to rub Cafall's ear. "There's plenty to explore. But try to stick to the rock pools, okay?"

They don't go far, just around the island, weaving in and out of the currents and the deeper water on the water side. Arthur dips under a few times, but he can't see too much. It's murky and a little dark, and he hasn't got his goggles. Still, interesting. They'll come back when the tide's out, which'll be another few hours. plenty of time to chase cafall up and down the beach and laze about.

By the time they're back - not much more than half an hour - the tide's receded a bit from the causeway and Cafall's made some friends. Two teenagers and a couple of little girls. and playing it up shamelessly.

Merlin grins. "I'm so proud of my padawan."

"Very funny." Arthur says. "It's bad habits, is what it is." he puts his fingers in his mouth and whistles the sit, stay signal. cafall huffs and puts his bum down.

"Thanks for taking care of our dog." Merlin says as they approach and the kids notice. "Was he much trouble?"

"No, he was fine." One of the teenagers mumbles.

One of the little girls is round-eyed. "How did you get him to do that?"

"Lots of training." Arthur grins, and whistles again. cafall gets up and goes to his feet. The girls get even more round-eyed at this, if it's possible.

"It's like he's one of those robot dogs..." One whispers.

"Only better." The other says firmly. "He's furry and plays catch."

"Trust me, he's not a robot." Arthur says. People really have to train their dogs better these days. "But we do have to go now, so thank you again."

This time they go via the causeway, so Arthur only has to pick him up when it starts to get really deep, and even then they never go below shoulder height. Cafall swims a fair bit of it. Arthur sighs. "So much better."

Merlin shrugs. "The swimming was more entertaining. and we got to freak the tourists out."

"True. But next time, we leave the dog on the shore." Arthur states firmly.

"You are no fun whatsoever." Merlin says.

"You're not the one carrying him." Arthur points out.
on beach.

"I remember when all this were woods." Merlin says lazily as they lie on the beach, drying out, gesturing across the bay, and then at the rock. "and that was just Karrek Loos yn Koos, the rock in the wood. Good for... what was on it again?"

"More trees." Arthur says. "And a temple and a fort of some kind, I think. Didn't go up there much when it was still Lethowsow, we lived in the low lands. It was just a really tall sodding rock, and you know my feelings on hiking."

"If the gods wanted us to travel long distances on foot for fun, he wouldn't have invented horses." Merlin says promptly.

Arthur makes an agreeing noise. "Precisely." He pauses. "There was a gathering point up there when the floods started, but I never went there, we were further out near the Scillies. Well. Scilly. They were just the high ground back then." He sighs. "Thinking about it, I miss Lethowsow a bit. It was really warm. Decently fertile land, all the little streams, the woods and the villages scattered across."

"I thought I was the one who reminisced about the warm periods." Merlin says, poking him.

"Except that bit around Tudor times." Arthur says.

"Forgive me for not liking a mad religious spy-littered atmosphere as much as you, mister adrenaline junkie." Merlin says. "But warmth is always nice. anyway, it wasn't tat warm, it was near the end of the ice age. It was just warmer than everywhere else."

"Still remember it as warm." Arthur shrugs.

"and then it got a lot warmer and we *really* shouldn't've liked those summers so much." Merlin adds.

"It's not like we knew, Merlin." Arthur points out. "We'd never seen anything like it. And you definitely didn't, mister I told you so."

"Wiseness comes with age." Merlin says haughtily, then shrieks as Arthur rolls over to tickle him. "No! No fair!"

"You know perfectly well this is the punishment for that kind of talk, and it always has been." Arthur says, going for his sides. "Take it like a feckless wizard."

"Feckless wizards are very bad at this kind of thing - argh, noooo, you bastard!" Merlin cries.

"Feckless wizards really need to learn that I lay in wait for this kind of remark." Arthur replies, twisting out of Merlin's sad attempt at catching his wrist.

Eventually they come to a panting, giggling heap, covered in sand and their towels in some kind of mangled mess, Merlin half sprawled on top of Arthur. He raises his head to glare at Arthur. "I hate you so much."

"Only on Tuesdays and alternate Saturdays" Arthur says, raising his hand to comb some of the sand out of Merlin's hair. "Those are the designated times for hating my existence, we agreed ages ago."

"I'm changing the rules." Merlin huffs. "It now includes any time you tickle me, and any time you insist on watching something else when the Princess Bride or Gremlins is on."

"Or Ghostbusters or Indiana Jones." Arthur says.

"Please, like you wouldn't be the one to dive for the remote first if you heard even a whiff that they were on. You start humming the theme in anticipation two hours before the film is even due to start." Merlin says, then looks down. "Oh, look, I ended up on top."

"All part of my nefarious plan." Arthur says, pulling him down for a kiss.

Merlin grins, meeting his lips. It starts slow, but doesn't really get a chance to get enthusiastic because a very wet cafall jumps on their legs. "Cafall, off!" Merlin yells, then squints at Arthur from the very close distance. "If you can teach him to respond perfectly when you whistle, how come you can't teach him to not jump on us when we're in bed or lying down?"

"That, I'm blaming on whatever mix of breeds he is." Arthur says darkly as Merlin rolls off him to tell Cafall off. He sighs, going to get the towels and shake the sand off them.

When Merlin feels he's sufficiently scolded Cafall, Arthur's rolled the towels up and put his trainers on. "That's the secret sign for you want lunch, isn't it?" Merlin says, tilting his head to one side.

"Nothing escapes your attention." Arthur says, putting them in the bag. "Come on, let's grab some food and then we can have a stroll out into the bay."

"One day we really need to get a boat to take us to go see the buildings out by the Scillies." Merlin says once they've got some soup. "Get some scuba gear, pretend we're archaeology enthusiasts."

"Instead of your usual resisting the urge to heckle at the back and then wandering off by ourselves to find things we remember." Arthur says, pointing his spoon at Merlin. "Remember the time you got ejected from one dig you'd managed to wangle your way onto?"

"That wasn't my fault, they were just jealous that I was so lucky in where I chose to dig." Merlin says. "So a bunch of them ganged up on me and the bloke running the dig decided he'd prefer to take all the glory himself and not have a nameless nobody in the academic field be the one whose name ended up in the headlines."

"Mmm. Lucky. For a given value of 'used to live here, so i should bloody know where the well is." Arthur replies. "And where the rubbish heap is. And look for that purse you tucked round the back of the fireplace for safe keeping. The fact that you came back so much later that it was actually buried under the dirt that the coins were actually worth even more than their metal value says nothing for your absentmindedness. At all."

Merlin gives him a look, putting down his spoon and buttering a bit of bread. Pointedly. "I might've thought to go back if I hadn't been traipsing all over the country in the ongoing quest to save your sorry arse."

"It's a lovely arse, Merlin, admit it, you know you want to." Arthur says cheerfully. "You have enough times."

Merlin kicks him in the ankle. "I was probably drunk."

Arthur eats a spoonful, a thoughtful look on his face. "Actually, given the last time you were perving over it was during my last rugby game, I can well believe that."

"It was cold, it was wet, we needed something to keep us going since we weren't the ones running around and rolling in the mud to keep warm." Merlin says.

After lunch, they meander up and down the beach a bit waiting for the tide to go out a bit more. Cafall chases the surf, chases it back again, discovers the fact that sand that's been exposed by the tide going out has hard *ripples* packed into it, and isn't that fascinating, and then makes many new friends. Many of whom think he's absolutely adorable, and he plays up to them something chronic. Arthur looks on in disgust. "What have you been teaching my dog, Merlin?"

"I thought you said it was our dog." Merlin comments. Not grinning. Honest.

"...He's named Cafall, it's a reflex." Arthur mutters, kicking a shell. "Anyway, he should have some dignity." He looks up, and whistles. Cafall stops playing up to be petted, gets up and trots obediently over to Arthur. "Good lad. Stay."

The kids who'd been playing with him scurry over, wide-eyed. "You did that with just a whistle? Can you do other whistles? mate, how well trained is your dog? Can you do it again?"

Merlin nudges Arthur, grinning. "Go on, show off. You know you want to."

"I can''t make him do tricks." Arthur states. "It's just simple commands."

"Yeah, but you did it just by whistling, my dog at home would never do that."

"Mine won't even fetch a ball...

"Don't dare take ours off the leash, he's dreadful."

Merlin grins. "he's so well trained that we don't need a leash most of the time. Go on, Arthur, show them a few whistles." He turns back to the kids. "It's like watching sheep trials wit this one around."

"He only says that because he's never bothered to learn." Arthur says dryly.

"Oh, go on, it'll fill some time in while we wait for the tide to go out." Merlin says.

Arthur rolls his eyes, gesturing and whistling. cafall scampers away until Arthur does a short whistle. at which point he stops and waits for more instruction. Well, technically it's the 'stay with what you've found until we catch up' whistle. Another whistle and he comes back. High pitched blast, he stands in front of Arthur and eyes everyone else beadily. "And that's the guard mode one."

"Cool, is there an attack one?"

"Don't be silly, they put dogs down for that." Merlin chides. There is, obviously, and yes Arthur has taught the attack ones to Cafall, but he’s definitely not showing off that he has. they just... might come in useful one day. You never know. All right. Arthur is incapable of doing hunting dog training without teaching it all the hunting dog training, which includes the raw meat test and the dragging a deer twice your size one and, yes, the attacking one.

Eventually the tide goes right out - and it's really low this time, plus Arthur suspects Merlin may be giving it that little extra push - so they put their wetsuits back on and walk out, Cafall on their heels until they can start wading through the water. after a bit, Cafall gets sent back to play with the waves, and they keep going, out until they can see the first bits of building and tree stumps.

Arthur stops and stares. "I still can't believe that this was all... well, I remember walking amongst these trees. it's not like castles and living woods and old stones, people have done things to them. Touched them, sat on them, grafittied them, knocked them down. Nicked the stone for their building work. Hundreds of people have normally been around the places we built or lived in or nearby or worked the land. Adjusted bits. Even if you leave something on the top of a mountain or in a cave, normally someone's been there. Whereas this ..." he stares again, tries to make some sort of gesture to sum it up. "We were the last humans to see it intact. It's like Herculaneum or something. Obviously the mermaids and selkies probably came around fairly soon after, but - one minute it was there and next, the waves just swallowed it." he and Merlin have made the trip out here quite a few times over the centuries. Just to have a look. Early on, they did bring a boat out to check if there was anything left to retrieve - the pair of them probably count as some of the world’s most consistent and persistent grave robbers given the amount of times they've gone to retrieve something if not the next lifetime then a few lifetimes down the road - but it's still scary to look at. What was your home just covered by the sea. maybe it's like that further up the English Channel, or the Black Sea, or in Egypt - the port town of Cleopatra's that they found off the coast, the one that slipped into the harbour during an earthquake.

Merlin and Arthur - well, they have memories of seeing the water come in and swallow it. Merlin shakes his head. "Yeah, I know. Still odd. come on, let's explore a bit more and then go back."

Once they get back to thigh height, Arthur glances back. "Remind me, how much did you have to do with the sinking of Lethowsow?" Arthur asks.

Merlin looks at him. "Very little and you know it. I've told you plenty of times, and you were there. I actually helped stop it long enough to get more people out."

Most of the channel and waters around Britain flooded gradually as the last of the last great ice age receded, the ice uncovering more of the land of Britain as it did, the river channels getting gradually wider, the water rising until the land was uninhabitable, more river bay than anything, up to the miles of rough water that's tricky enough on the wrong day to be impassable that now exists. Lethowsow - Lyonesse - was different. They'd had the signs for decades that the water was rising and the streams were getting wider. warmer weather meant more storms, longer summers, better fruit and veg even as some of the ones the people living there had eaten died out in the new weather conditions and new ones grew better. Like Pompeii and Herculaneum. The earthquakes were just things that happened, and some years they were bad, other times it was just a tremor, but it's warm and the soil's so fertile, the sea rises and earthquakes just happen around there. so came the storms in Lethowsow as the warmer, wetter weather caused the air pressure to change. But the winters weren't so harsh and they had sunnier days. Food grew better now the weather wasn't so cold. animals had more young that survived, and so did the humans.

Then came... well. They'd had some truly horrendous storms. The rivers had been at their highest for months, and the floodplain - which had been increasing over the years - had been underwater for a good few weeks. Some had already packed up their families and moved away to higher ground. And then the signs and portents started to come thick and fast. Flocks of birds. Piskies muttering a *lot* and twitchy, breaking into fights regularly. The Bucca kept going by, moaning and making noises. The knockers in the tin mines were nearly frantic as normally, it would be the occasional noise, and a few persistent knocks when someone forgot to leave offerings of food for them. Suddenly it went from relatively normal to it sounding like the mine was due to be abandoned or collapse all day and all night. the miners refused to go down until they stopped even though all the supports were checked and verified as sound. Of course, it's possible the knockers might have gone barmy eventually anyway as the waters gradually rose and everything gradually became waterlogged and unsafe, but then... it was still dry. The miners, in hindsight, quite sensibly refused to go down. If the knockers were making the warning signal constantly, worse than had ever been told of, there was no way they were going down there, and all the prodding with sharp sticks by smiths and merchants in need of raw materials wouldn't convince them to go down. all of the little folk and spirits knowing something was up, and they should have listened to their fear and superstitions sooner. But storms come and go in batches, don't they? You'll have a bad couple of years, then a few good ones. Seasons of floods. The crops were still growing, the animals weren't getting sick, and the land was still fertile. There was no blight on the land. No reason to go yet.

Then one morning, one of the seers woke up screaming, as did Merlin. Then another and another. The water was coming, the waves were coming now, *today*. Magic users had felt something break, something went wrong, it was too fast, but the water was coming now now now in great volume, they had to make for the higher land to the east and west. And the reports started coming in from the north. The water was coming. Not more than at a slow walking pace, but a slow walking pace was fast enough and entire fields to the north were under water. It wasn't a flash flood, the water didn't come crashing down a river in a wall of approaching death that swirls all before it, bridges, walls, trees, not yet. But it kept coming and coming, like the tide creeping inland, only faster. Arthur had turned to Merlin, and it was agreed that Arthur should round everyone of their towns to the east up and get them out of there, go to the higher land in the east. They could leave everything, come back for it once the waters had receded, but they had to go now. The people who'd had to move from the floodplain or lived too close to it learnt that years before. the waters would recede, and you could get your belongings back. And as it got a little more certain, maybe a little more frequent, the flood damage becoming too much to repair, when you died or a new baby was born and your family needed a bigger house, the house would be mined for building materials and you'd move to one further away from the river. It wasn't so bad back then to move - there was plentiful wood, and stone would be reused easily for the foundations. A house built on land that was not so flat.

Merlin went with the other magic users, to see if they could slow it, and a few hours later, as Arthur was in the middle of rounding people up, getting carts loaded up with chickens and getting cattle driven forward, Merlin came back. they'd delayed it. maybe only by a couple of hours, but it was still coming, there was no way to stop it. They could only buy a breathing space with all the magic and spells they could summon. he'd seen Merlin combat giant waves and rock slides that seemed to contain half the mountain before, but this was different. Merlin had shaken his head with a defeated expression, tired from t he amount of magic expended, Arthur knew that look. A sudden event, that was one thing, Merlin explained. But this was the sea, and it was coming, would just keep coming, and eventually the amount of magic and concentration it would take - they'd end up as a bubble in the middle of the flood that was coming, and he didn't think he'd be able to stay awake long enough to keep the bubble from popping. When it popped, it would be worse, because then the water that his magic had been holding back would all rush in a few minutes as the biggest wave they'd ever seen, taller than the rock to the east, killing everyone it hit in its wake. this, the gradual tide coming in, they could flee from. They couldn't flee from a giant wave.

So with grim determination, Arthur had driven everybody forward, telling t hem not to stop, and if the cattle were too slow, they had to leave it. The cart space was to be used for the old and sick and lame. Nothing else. Their valuables meant nothing, their lives were what was important, and tears and pride could be dealt with later. the trek was awful. They kept walking at a steady pace, and there was a lot of moaning and crying and protesting for the first hour or so. people who didn't see why they hadn't just stayed and gone up trees like several people who had chosen to wait it out, because surely it was just another flood, and this was all a fuss over nothing. The seers were just excitable. And then they paused to check up on the stragglers, this train of people and carts and cattle and goats that was nearly a mile long itself, and the stragglers were scared. actually scared, because they could see the water coming, this long grey glistening line that had appeared over the horizon as though they'd got closer to the sea. But the flood waters were coming to them. The put a bit of a sting in people's tails, and the complainers shut up after that, everyone just kept walking, picking up those that'd fallen or strained something, those who weren't used to walking for so long, children on people's backs and shoulders, swapping them in and out of the carts. Having to give the animals pulling the carts rest stops otherwise they'd keel over, they're just not made for walking all day at a constant pace. By the time the light started to dim, they were exhausted. dragging their heels. But the water was lapping at the back of the party's feet, far more clumped together, and they hadn't got to the rock yet. The fitter ones had been carrying people for a mile or so at a time, just to make sure they didn't fall behind, and they'd already lost cattle who'd given up.

When they got to the rock, as many as possible went up it, an odd combination of the weakest and the ones who could still climb, scrambling up it frantically, driven by the fear of the oncoming flood that kept pace with every footstep. that lot just couldn't walk any further, but the rock rose so steeply and quickly out of the ground, towering above everything else for miles around, so surely they should be safe there. If they were marooned, so be it. The others, they kept going further up to where the land rose properly. It wasn't as high as the rock, but it would have to do. They'd spent the last couple of miles knee-deep in water. Arthur still gives thanks that the water was only going one way - if there'd been any sort of current, people were so exhausted that they'd have been knocked over. when the waters finally stopped, and they were perched on the high ground to the east in the evening, the storms came again, lashing away at them as they huddled there, the water having finally stopped lapping at their heels.

The next morning, Arthur got up to find a bunch of people staring out in shock. In the dim light of the last part of the trek, they'd just seen the next bit and the next bit, just not looking back until they stopped, because a glance back meant seeing the inexorable creeping tide coming in and just not stopping.

Centuries down the line, everyone across the Roman Empire heard about how Pompeii and Herculaneum had just... disappeared. The mountain had started smoking, and then exploded in lava and rock and rained ash down, and the sea had boiled as new land had been created. The towns were buried, you couldn't see anything but rock, and the noxious gases were impassable.

But at least you could see where those towns had been. Lethowsow - later called Lyonesse - just wasn't there any more the sea had swallowed it. All you could see from the high ground that they'd spent the night on was the grey flood waters, lapping around the edges of the rock that had been a hill in the middle of the woods, the only sound the birds and this strange, sonorous tolling out in the water, the bells in some temple or a cauldron banging against each other as they were shifted by the water. they waited as long as they could before they had to move on, to find shelter and food aside from the little they'd managed to bring with them, but the water only went out a couple of miles, and then came back with the tide. it only came up to just around the back of the rock - the sea got higher over the next couple of thousand years - but that was enough. All the fields and all the houses were drowned. When the tide was low you could see roofs and the tops of trees. The wood soon became gnarled and broken limbs, as they died off soon enough with the influx of salt. Some trees can survive being submerged in salt water. Those trees couldn't, and their corpses served as a remnant gravestone of where an entire community had lived. Thirty miles of land, gone overnight. Several bodies did wash ashore, and they had to buried or burnt. but most of them never reappeared. Not in the numbers that had to have drowned. it's thought that the currents of the new sea kept the bodies down, followed by being eaten by the new inhabitants of Lethowsow, the fish and seals and dolphins, swimming along the old roads and in and out of the trees and houses.

Hundreds died. The ones who'd insisted they'd be fine on their own. the stubborn ones who thought perching in trees would be fine and then couldn’t get down as the waters rose. Some of the ones who'd had boats were never seen again, probably lost in the storms of the night. He doesn't know how many were killed in the west of Lethowsow, the ones who made for the Scillies, it was over a lifetime and more before he was able to take a boat to get there and find what the stories said of people doing what they'd done, fleeing the floods. But hundreds survived, which Arthur counts as a win.

By the time they're out of the water and Cafall's back at their heels, Arthur pokes at the sand. "I don't know how the legends changed the numbers so much. How do you go from hundreds of exhausted people to one man on a white horse that's lost a shoe?" He glances at the sea. "Plus, how's a horse supposed to outrace a giant wave?"

Merlin makes a tssking sound. "Fairytale physics, well known variable."

Arthur rubs his neck. "But hundreds to one man on a horse? It's a bit of a leap."

Merlin looks thoughtful. "Remember that Greek history student who laid out all the reasons 300 was wrong, wrong, wrong? The Spartans edited out all the Helots who'd carried their shields and spears and armour, and the other armies who fought with them. Some storyteller probably told the tale of a person who'd made it out on a horse and whose entire family died in the water as the first part of a story that talked about all the great adventures he went on to later, and then people only told the first bit and that became the story of Lethowsow. they only remembered about him getting out."

"Never mind that the man's wife, kids, sister, brother and nieces all survived." Arthur huffs. "And the horse was almost certainly being used to transport the kids."

Merlin nudges Arthur. "At least they got your name right, Trevelyan." That one still rankles a bit too. Remember the name of the man who led the tribes out for some bloody stupid reason. he wasn't a king or a great warrior, he was just the headman whose cousin was one of the mystics. a very annoying, block headed mystic, but still, a mystic.

Arthur sighs. "I'm still amazed it stayed intact that long. Well, pronounced a bit differently. The arguments about Artos and Arthur are ridiculous."

The German tourist coach with the frankly quite demented looking parrot is gone from t he car park when they pass it again. Just normal cars, a plumber's van and a Kernow Corp van there now. oh, and a national Trust one, doors open to catch the unwary traveller with their subscription deals.