Authors: Eileen Hodgetts
Violet ran her hands gently across the skeletal remains, finding the place where the ribs were crushed.
“Traitorous whore,” said Rowan suddenly.
Violet nodded. “She certainly seemed to be,” she agreed.
“So what became of them?” Elaine asked.
Violet looked at the crushed ribs. “I don’t know,” she said. “Lancelot had no strength. He could barely lift the sword. I imagine that he died. Guinevere saw him taken away.”
“And Nareena?” asked Rowan
“I don’t know,” said Violet, “she was wrapped in mist.”
“She did not return to Avilion,” said Rowan. “We have no more knowledge of her.”
Violet touched the small bundle of bones. “There was nothing honorable about this queen,” she said.
“It is as we suspected,” said Elaine. “She betrayed her husband, her king, and her country.”
“And Lancelot betrayed her by loving Nareena,” said Violet. “What a sorry story.”
“Such a waste,” said Rowan. “Did she really think to give Excalibur to Lancelot and make him High King?”
“Yes,” said Violet.
“All of this for a foolish dream,” said Rowan. “Lancelot could never be king. Only Arthur can return Excalibur to Albion. It was Guinevere who condemned us all to this endless war that cannot be won or lost. If Arthur cannot freely give the sword to his heir, then it must be taken from him in battle, there is no other way. And now Excalibur is lost. Arthur is healed, his knights are healed, but Excalibur is not here.”
“Is there anything here that tells you of the sword?” Elaine asked.
“It was taken from Lancelot, that’s all I know,” said Violet.
“But how did the Queen make her way here?” Rowan asked. “How did she die?”
“The memory is faint,” Violet said. “When I search for her thoughts I can see her scrambling down the cliff path and screaming Lancelot’s name. She doesn’t know if he is alive or dead, but she sees him tied across the saddle of a horse, and she sees that one of the attackers has taken Excalibur. They don’t look back. They don’t even see her.”
“Then who wounded her?” Rowan asked.
Violet shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know,” she said.
“Perhaps she fell and hit her head,” Rowan said. “That would explain why the memory you are retrieving is so confused.”
Violet touched the broken ribs and shook her head. “It’s not clear. I know she was in terrible pain.”
“Her pain is nothing compared to the pain she has inflicted on others,” said Rowan sharply.
“ I have a sense of her crawling through darkness on her hands and knees.” Violet said. “She has no light but she knows the way. She’s returning to the cave. She wants to die among the sleeping knights. Her mind is filled with thoughts of the glory days.”
Guinevere is a queen again in the fullness of her youthful beauty. The king adores her, the people cheer as she passes by and the most handsome knight in all of Albion is her champion. She is returning to lie by his side.
She comes quietly to his bedside. He has made the bed ready for her, piled high with a feather mattress, and dressed in finest damask. She will slip in beside him and they will lie together, and no one will ever know.
Something is wrong. She is on her hands and knees beside the bed straining to stand. Her hands clasp at the covers and come away empty. There is no bed, only an empty wooden bier. There is no fine fur rug beneath her feet, only a cold stone floor. There is no lordly bedchamber, only a dark cave. There is no handsome lover, only the still form of Arthur, the king she has betrayed
.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Todd
“So are we going to do a bit of B & E?” Freddie asked as they turned into the driveway and saw the impressive bulk of Griffinwood Manor ahead of them.
Mandretti turned around from his seat beside Freddie and looked back at Todd as if he thought Todd would provide a translation of the question. Todd, already fractious from a night without sleep and a caffeine loaded morning, not to mention the fact that they still had not found Violet, could only shrug his shoulders and wish himself anywhere except where he was.
“He’s asking if you’re planning on breaking into Griffinwood Manor,” Molly Walker said. “B and E, breaking and entering.”
“You any good at that?” Mandretti asked Freddie.
“Been known to do a bit in my time,” Freddie replied with equanimity.
“I don’t think it will be necessary,” Molly said as they rounded the final curve in the driveway and the massive oak doors came into view. “It seems that someone left the door open.”
The doors were indeed wide open, lights were on inside the house and a black Mercedes was parked in the gravel turnaround.
“Oh dear,” said Todd. “Is anyone thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Depends on what you’re thinking,” said Molly.
“Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly,” Todd replied.
“Yes,” said Molly, “it certainly does look that way.”
Freddie brought the limo to a halt beside the Mercedes.
“You going in?” he asked.
“I’m gonna knock,” said Mandretti, “and see what happens.”
He climbed out of the car and faced the open doors. Todd saw him squaring his broad shoulders and adjusting the set of his jacket; then he slipped his right hand into his pocket.
Well, it’s not a gun, Todd thought, because Freddie already told him no guns, so I guess it’s a knife.
Mandretti pounded on the open door but no one appeared. He turned and looked back at the limo and gestured to Freddie. Freddie climbed out from the driver’s seat and went through the same routine as Mandretti, squaring his shoulders, adjusting his jacket and slipping his hand into his pocket. The two men disappeared through the front door.
“Go and get in the driver’s seat,” said Molly.
“Me?” said Todd.
“In case we need to get out of here in a hurry,” she said.
“Not me,” said Todd. “You all drive on the wrong side of the road.”
With a deep sigh, Molly climbed out of the back of the car. She was opening the driver’s door when Mandretti and Freddie reappeared.
“Ain’t no one here,” Mandretti called. “Come on in.”
Todd approached the front doors with caution, hiding as much as possible behind Molly’s bulky body.
“They haven’t searched the whole house,” Todd complained under his breath. “They weren’t in there long enough.”
They passed through the front doors into the gloom of a cavernous foyer with black and white tiled floor. Molly looked around and spotted two suits of armor. “Fake,” she said dismissively.
Mandretti stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Freddie’s searching downstairs, we’ll take the upstairs,” he said. “There’s no sign of anyone.”
He looked at Todd. “You been calling Ryan like I told you to?”
“I have,” said Todd, “but he doesn’t answer.” He checked his phone. “No signal in here,” he said.
“So,” said Mandretti, “Ryan could be here, but just not hearing his phone, and Violet don’t have no phone. They could both be here.”
“All night?” Todd queried.
Mandretti looked at him with raised eyebrows. “That supposed to mean something?” he asked.
“No, of course not,” Todd said.
Mandretti started up the stairs with Molly close behind him and Todd bringing up the rear. They stopped and huddled together at the first landing looking right and left along wood floored corridors. All the doors were closed.
Downstairs a door slammed and Todd gasped in surprise, moving closer to Mandretti. Mandretti pushed him away. “Go open some doors,” he said. “You go right, the Prof can go left and I’ll go on up to the next floor. Yell out if you find something.”
As Todd approached the first door he tried to hide himself behind a stage character. Who could he be? He had never actually played a door busting hero, or really any kind of hero, and a hero was needed to open all the doors and look inside. They could be dead, both of them. Marcus Ryan and Violet could be behind any of the doors, lying dead, their sightless eyes still open and staring. On the other hand they could both be alive and waiting desperately for rescue. They could be waiting for Todd to be a real life hero.
He opened the first door, a bedroom, shabby and dusty, but empty. He continued along the corridor opening doors with increasing confidence and finding only shabby bedrooms, and even shabbier bathrooms, and no sign of either Ryan or Violet.
As he reached the end of the corridor he heard Mandretti calling from the landing.
“Nothing here,” he shouted. “
Una perdita di tempo
. Don’t waste no more time looking. They ain’t here.”
Mandretti raised his voice several more decibels. “Hey Freddie, where you at?”
Freddie’s voice drifted up from somewhere downstairs. “Come and have a butchers at this.”
“What?” said Mandretti.
“He wants you to look at something,” Molly said, appearing from the other corridor. “Butcher’s hook, look.”
Following the sound of Freddie’s voice, they hurried down the broad staircase, past the suits of armor, and into a huge reception hall with beamed ceilings and stained glass windows. A massive brick fireplace occupied one end of the hall, and above the fireplace hung a collection of weapons.
“Those must be the weapons that the museum returned,” Molly said. “Find a light switch. Someone turn on the lights.”
Freddie found a switch and lights came on along the walls with a spotlight focused on the fireplace and its collection of fearsome weapons. Todd could not name all the weapons he saw but he recognized swords and sabers, spiked balls on the end of chains, vicious looking axes, antique pikes, massive hammers, and short stabbing knives. The weapons were dusty, and some looked rusted, as though no one had cared for them in a long time.
Molly seemed to take no time at all in making up her mind. “Not here,” she said.
“How do you know?” Mandretti demanded. “What about the swords?”
“No,” said Molly again. “Nothing there fits the description.”
“You sure?” Mandretti asked.
Molly nodded. “Quite sure,” she said. “It would be a brilliant hiding place. Just cover the sword in dust and stick it on the wall with all the others, but it’s not there. If it was there the guy who’s pretending to be Crispin Peacock would have found it, not to mention the fact that Marcus would recognize it immediately.”
“Perhaps he did,” said Mandretti, glowering at Molly from beneath his lowered eyebrows. “Perhaps that’s why we haven’t heard from him.”
“There’s no empty space,” Molly said. “Look at the way they’ve been displayed. They form a pattern and there’s nothing missing.”
Freddie scrutinized the wall. “No hooks,” he said.
“What does that mean?” Mandretti asked. “I don’t understand a word this guy says.”
“It means exactly what it sounds like,” said Molly. “There are no empty display hooks. The sword was never on this wall.”
“Then where the hell is it?” Mandretti shouted, “and why are you all standing around? “
Because we don’t know what else to do, Todd thought, but he didn’t voice his opinion out loud. Mandretti’s frustration was obviously building, and Todd kept thinking of the way Mandretti had slipped his hand into his coat pocket. He had something in there, something sharp and dangerous.
“Well,” said Freddie, “I’m going to take a gander at that car outside.”
Todd tried to sort out Freddie’s strange goose reference but it soon became obvious what Freddie had in mind because he once again went through the ritual of squaring his shoulders and straightening his jacket, and apparently fixing some little problem inside his trousers. Todd had never been in a brawl and had no idea what would need to be adjusted in the crotch area in a situation that involved a goose and a car.
“Good idea,” said Molly. “Let’s all go and look. Strength in numbers, you know.”
Oh, Todd thought, we’re going to check on the black Mercedes outside. Good idea.
They made their way back through the gloomy foyer and out through the front doors. Freddie was first to reach the Mercedes and peer in through the windows.
“Is it locked?” Mandretti asked.
Freddie turned his back on them and a few moments later he turned around and smiled. “Not anymore,” he said, as he slid behind the wheel.
“Pop the trunk,” said Mandretti.
“Open the boot,” Molly translated.
The trunk opened with a faint hiss. Todd stood back. Once again he feared what they might find. Given everything else that had happened, finding a body in the trunk seemed a distinct possibility.
Mandretti shook his head. “Clean,” he shouted. “Anything on the seat?”
Before Freddie could answer they were interrupted by the sound of a car coming up the long driveway. Todd caught a flash of blue before the approaching car disappeared from view, hidden by a curve in the driveway. By the time it reappeared Mandretti and Freddie were both out of the Mercedes. They were standing quite still but, nonetheless, giving off an air of aggression.
The car was small, a tiny blue hatchback dwarfed by the size of Freddie’s limo. The little car screeched to a halt, the passenger door was flung open and Violet practically fell out onto the ground.
“Violet,” Mandretti shouted,. “where the hell have you been?”
Todd managed to bypass Mandretti in time to help Violet to her feet. She leaned heavily against him and stared at the faces around her.
“Did he find it?” she demanded. “Where’s Ryan? Did he find it?”
“Do you have my sword?” Mandretti asked.
“Your sword?” said Violet. “Your sword? No Michael, it’s not
your
sword.”
“What the hell?” said Mandretti.
Violet ignored him. She looked at Todd. “What are you doing here?” she asked, and then she saw Molly. “Molly? Oh God, wait till I tell you. You were so right, Molly, so right.”
“About what?” Molly asked.
“About everything,” said Violet.
Todd was taking in his sister’s windblown appearance; dragged backwards through a hedge came to his mind. “Where have you been?” he asked.
“Yeah,” said Mandretti, “where the hell you been? What do you mean, it’s not my sword?”
Before Violet could answer, Todd saw another woman climbing out of the car. She was a pretty blonde with long tangled hair and a figure hugging blue dress. “Where’s Professor Ryan?” the blonde demanded.
“We don’t know,” said Todd. “We don’t know where anyone is. Where you been, Violet?”
“I was....somewhere else,” Violet said vaguely. “Doesn’t Ryan have a phone?”
“He’s not answering it,” Todd said.
“Did you find the museum?” Violet asked.
“Yeah,” said Mandretti, “we found the museum but the sword ain’t there, and what do you mean by saying it ain’t my sword? What the hell do you think I’m paying you for?”
Violet ran a hand through her already tangled hair. “We don’t have any time left,” she said, “The water’s rising.”
“What water?” Todd asked.
“The water in the cave,” said the blonde girl. She turned to Violet. “I don’t know what else to do?” she said. “Without the sword, we ....”
“I know,” said Violet. “But what about the children?”
“What children?” asked the blonde girl.
Todd saw the confusion and frustration on his sister’s face.
“Barry Marshall’s children,” she said. “If we get the sword, we have to give it to…Oh hell, I don’t even know who to give it to. It’s him or the children. The king or the children.”
“There are swords inside,” said Todd in an attempt to be helpful, “ but Professor Walker says that they’re not what we’re looking for.”
“They’re not,” Molly insisted. “I know what I’m doing.”
“We have to look,” said the blonde, rushing ahead of them through the front door.
“Who is that?” Mandretti asked, “Where did she come from?”
“That’s Elaine,” Violet said, “and I’ve been with her and....well, I can’t really say anything else, not yet. Where are the swords you found?”
“On the wall above the fireplace,” said Molly, “but I can tell you___”
Violet was already gone, following Elaine through the front door. Todd had never seen her move so fast. As he turned to follow her he heard a loud crash from just inside the door followed by a penetrating female scream.
Mandretti was halfway to the door when Violet reappeared holding a sword, with Elaine following close behind her. Both women were flushed and exultant.
“This is it,” Violet shouted. “This is Excalibur!”
“No, I looked,” said Molly. “It wasn’t on the wall.”
“The armor,” said Elaine.
“Fake,” said Molly. “Cheap imitation.”
“The armor’s fake,” said Violet, “but not the sword. He hid it in plain sight.”
“Where?” demanded Molly.
“In the scabbard,” said Violet.
“But we all walked past it,” Molly complained. “How did you find it?”
“It’s my gift,” said Violet.
Todd observed that his sister did not look as smug as she usually did when she found a lost object, or boasted of her gift. She looked overwhelmed.
“Well done,” Todd said softly. “But is it really___?”
“Excalibur,” said Violet. “Yes, oh yes, this is the real thing. I can hear its voice. She closed her eyes for a moment. “What shall I do?” she said. “How do I save them all?”
“Well,” said Mandretti triumphantly, placing an arm around Violet’s shoulders and ignoring her distress, “we don’t have to wait for Ryan. We can go home without him. I ain’t giving him no commission on this, you did all the finding while he disappeared.”
Violet pulled away from him. “What are you talking about?” she said. “You can’t take this to Vegas. The sword has to stay here.”
“We had a deal,” Mandretti said, “I’ve shelled out a lot of money to get you over here to find this, and it seems it don’t belong to this Peacock fellow because he’s not really who he says he is, so that makes it mine.”