The Excalibur Murders (13 page)

Not certain whether to be offended, the boy said good night and left.

"Well, Brit. Look at the way the symbols are arranged. They run in lines down various corridors, leading away from the Great Hall."

"If we're right and this
is
the Great Hall."

"We have to assume it is. How else can we proceed? I think the little symbols must trace the movements of our suspects."

"That could be. Or they could be arranged according to some other pattern that isn't occurring to you."

"Possibly, but . . ." He rubbed his chin, furrowed his brow and went over the diagram still again. "I think we have to assumethis charts their movements until that assumption becomes untenable or something stronger occurs to us. There are four symbols. That means four suspects he learned enough about to think they were worth concentrating on."

"Four." She leaned next to him and studied the scroll. "Mordred and Lancelot. Those are the obvious ones. And . . . Pellenore?"

"Maybe."

"And then . . . who is the fourth?"

He stood up and exhaled deeply. "How well do you know the servants?"

"Better than most of the knights, I think, but not really well."

"Will they talk to you? Open up to you the way they did to Ganelin, I mean?"

"I don't know. I can try." She hesitated. "We can always force them to talk."

"No, Brit. Arthur has banned that. It is out of the question. "

"And if there's no other way?"

"There is. And we have to start confronting the suspects. Gently. Obliquely. We don't want anyone panicking, and we certainly don't want any more murders. But if we can put what the servants know together with what we learn from the suspects themselves, we should be able to match each symbol to the right person. Once we've eliminated the ones we can account for, the one left is the killer."

"It's cold in here." She walked to the window and started to close it.

"Don't. My raven will come back soon."

"Raven? One? What happened to the other two?"

"A hawk got them. Or they got sick or had an accident. I don't really know."

"Merlin, we can't assume Ganelin identified every possible suspect." She crossed the room and stood by the fire.

"We can't assume anything else, not till there's a reason to."

"People left the hall for the privy. Even Mark told us he did that."

He rolled up the scroll. "This is all we have to go on, Brit. At least for now. If we work slowly, steadily and carefully we can solve this."

"A star, an X, a triangle . . . It's like some mystical code."

"It
is
a code, but there's nothing mystical about this. With thought and reason and careful analysis we can unmask the truth."

"Does truth need unmasking?"

"It rarely needs anything else."

FOUR

THE INVESTIGATION BEGINS IN EARNEST

The next day Merlin went to Arthur and explained what he thought Ganelin's chart represented. They were in his study, the room where Borolet had been killed. "So you see, by learning what we can from the servants and putting it together with what we learn from the suspects, we may be able to discover the killer's identity. I think we have a very good chance."

"Suppose these symbols mean something else?"

"They may. There's no way of knowing till we investigate. "

The king listened patiently, frowning occasionally, examining the chart, trying to follow it all. "How long will this take?"

Merlin smiled. "How can I know that? Weeks. Possibly longer. If you want prophecy, consult Morgan."

"Her prophecies are always wrong. Well, nearly always."

"Heavens, I can't imagine why."

Arthur bristled. "You're not going to make any friends being skeptical of religion, Merlin."

"This isn't a matter for Morgan's hokum. If we're going to find the killer we must rely on reason. The more so since Morgan is under suspicion herself."

"You cannot go around accusing the nation's chief priestess of murder. Not without firm evidence.
Irrefutable
evidence."

"If you want the murderer unmasked, it hardly seems wise to place one of the prime suspects off-limits to the investigation, Arthur."

He sighed. "I'm not placing anyone off-limits. And you have every right to be as skeptical of the gods and their priests as you please. But you have to understand, it's not a prejudice most people are likely to share."

"Fine. Point taken. But I need you to promise me your full support if I'm to go ahead with this. As you've pointed out yourself, the queen and the chief priestess--the king's wife and sister--are under suspicion. This will take some delicacy."

"Delicacy? Is that really the word you mean?" Arthur suddenly turned to the door and cried out, "Greffys!"

The squire came running. "Sir?"

"There's no more wine. Rush and get me some, will you?"

He went.

Merlin brought him back to the subject at hand. "Perhaps you should do the investigation yourself, Arthur. No one could question its 'delicacy' then."

"Don't be foolish. You're the wisest man here."

Merlin narrowed his eyes. "You don't want to deal with this."

"Of course I don't." Uncharacteristically, Arthur explodedin anger, pounded the table and began to shout. "My boys are dead--horribly so. Their mother is dead. And every time we talk about it you tell me either my wife or my sister is probably behind it."

"You can always tell me to abandon the investigation completely."

"I wish I could. But . . . but . . . I don't know what to do." Deflated, he picked up the diagram, glared at it then put it back on the table. "You're my chief advisor. Tell me what to do."

"You know what I think is necessary for finding the assassin. Let me do it."

Arthur stared at him without saying anything.

"And then," Merlin went on, "there is the bigger question of what might be done to prevent this kind of thing from happening again."

Arthur sat again. This was obviously a new thought to him. "Yes?"

Softly, Merlin said, "Education."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Education. Schools."

"What the devil are you talking about?"

"Education always pays off--always enriches a society. It makes things run more smoothly."

"You have a way of making me feel dense, Merlin. I'm not following you at all."

"If Ganelin had simply noted the names of the suspects, we'd have the killer already. Instead he used these little symbols."

"What of it?"

"Arthur, the boy couldn't read and write. This cryptic chart is the best he could come up with. We should be glad we have it at all, but even so . . ."

"Guenevere can read. Morgan and Mordred can read. Yet you suspect them of villainy."

"Learning increases the potential for crime, yes. But it also increases the odds of solving the crime. Arthur, teach your pages and your squires. Establish a school here. Teach them about Rome and Athens, about the magnificent things mankind can accomplish. If nothing else, learning about government--about the benefits it brings us, the order, the stability--will make it less likely anyone will strike at your kingship in this way again."

"You've been trying to get me to do that for years. You know the risk--the knights wouldn't like it. Focus on finding the one who killed my sons. We don't even know that these killings were an attempt to 'strike at my kingship.' It may have been simply theft. We'll talk about schools later."

Greffys came back with a skin of wine and poured a cup for Arthur. The king drank, satisfied, thanked him and told him to go. Then to Merlin, he said, "Have you tried this? Mark's people have taken to cultivating vines in Cornwall. He says it's the only part of the country suitable for wine-making. It's pretty good. With luck we won't have to import our wine from France much longer. Guenevere's father will be most unhappy." He grinned like an impish boy. "You are going to have Mark work with you on this investigation, aren't you?"

He'd been hoping it wouldn't come up. "Not right away, no."

"What the devil do you mean?"

"Once we've cleared him--"

"Cleared him?" Arthur bellowed it. "Do you mean to say he's under suspicion, too? My military commander? Is there anyone near me you don't suspect of murder?"

"He was seen leaving the Great Hall at the start of the ceremony, Arthur. He's even admitted it himself. And he was not seen to return."

Arthur got up and started pacing. "What will you need? And who? I want this ended as quickly as possible."

"I'll have to visit the various suspects on their home ground. I'll need plausible reasons for that. With Mark, we can come up with some reason for me to inspect the tin mines. Perhaps we can concoct some story for Morgan about wanting to go over the ceremonies for Midwinter Court. For Guenevere--I don't know. Nothing convenient occurs to me. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Not offhand. She's likely to be suspicious of any story, anyway."

"A fine wife."

"What do you think wives do? She has her fortieth birthday coming up next winter. Perhaps we can tell her we want to make it a national feast or something, and you're going to visit her for preliminary discussions."

"Do you want to make her birthday a national feast?"

"Don't be absurd, Merlin. But I'd be surprised if the idea hasn't occurred to her already. So there's nothing to lose. Maybe we can invite her father and then imprison him."

"Provoke an international incident?"

"He's as minor a king as you could find in Europe. I doubt if anyone would mind. And it would give Guenevere a reason to start behaving herself." He drank. "For once."

"Well, fine, then. Let's give all of this some more thought, though, shall we? There's no sense stirring things up more than we have to."

"I thought you liked stirring things up."

"Don't
you
be foolish, Arthur." He stared at the chart. "There has to be a way to decipher this." Then he looked at Arthur again. "I want Britomart. I know her and trust her. And I know she can't be the killer. She was with me in the Great Hall the whole time. Can you do without her for a time?"

"Fine, yes, take her. Who else?"

"My apprentice, Colin. I know I can rely on him."

"Fine. And who else?"

"I may need Greffys. Or at any rate someone who's on good terms with the servants. I suppose any of the pages would do. But since Greffys is already involved in this, I think . . ."

"Fine. Anyone more?"

"No, I don't think so. We'll need horses for ourselves, and a few more to carry luggage and supplies. And I think that should be all. For the time being, at least. I don't think we should travel with an armed escort. It will be better to keep a low profile."

"Good. Go and get started. Remember, Merlin, I want the killer exposed by Midwinter Court."

"I'll do my best, Arthur."

"Good." His cup was empty. He picked up the wineskin and took a long drink from it. "I don't mean to roar at you. But this situation . . . it's so horrible. Who else do you suspect? "

"Well . . . Pellenore."

Arthur snorted derisively.

"I know how unlikely it is, but we can't afford to overlook any possibility, can we?"

"I suppose not. And who else?"

"Those are the most important suspects. Everyone else who left the hall that night seems to have come back fairly quickly. It's unlikely any of them did the murder. Oh, and it might be useful for you to write Morgan, Mark and Guenevere to let them know I'll be visiting them on your business."

"Draft the letters. I'll sign them and send them."

"You'll have them by morning."

"They may be suspicious. Especially Guenevere. The notion I want to honor her on her birthday will put her on her guard at once. You'll never get her to talk. And Morgan won't be any easier."

"I plan to be subtle. You're a warrior. You wouldn't understand. Besides, it's primarily Lancelot and Mordred I plan to cross-examine. Neither of them is exactly . . . well, you know."

For a moment Arthur fell silent. When he spoke again he avoided looking at Merlin. "You know me. I'm not a thinker. I like to believe I'm an able administrator, a competent general, an honorable man--but I don't think a great deal. But Merlin," he turned his head to face him, "I honestly can't think of anything that's getting better."

"Middle-age weariness, that's all. When you reach a certain age, nothing in the world looks good anymore."

"No, that's not what I mean. I remember what it was like when I first became king. When I first conquered all of England. You knew me then, you were there. I had such hopes. Such dreams for the kind of land I wanted to build." He picked up the wineskin and poured more. "I'm so afraid this isn't it."

"Nothing human is perfect, Arthur."

"I'm not talking about perfection. I'm talking about simple peace. Find the killer for me, Merlin. Find him. And while you're at it, find my crystal skull and its shrine. And Excalibur. I feel naked without it."

On the way back to his tower, Merlin encountered Pellenore. The man was galloping as usual along a winding corridor, astride an imaginary horse, shouting, "Giddyup, boy! Faster! Faster!"

Merlin stepped back into a recess, hoping the mad fallen king wouldn't see him. And for a moment it seemed that he wouldn't. He came careering along, directly toward Merlin, and seemed about to keep going. But then he pulled up his steed and stared straight at him. "Have you seen them?"

"Your dragons?" He was not in a mood to humor the man. "No, Pellenore, I haven't seen them, no more than anyone else has."

"See how cunning they are? They need to be rooted out and killed."

"Of course." He stepped out of his recess and started to walk away. "Pellenore, I wish I didn't find you so alarming. "

He ignored this. "I was a king, you know. I deserve a bit of respect. I never get it."

"No, I suppose you don't. You're not a king any longer, after all. Arthur is the one."

"For now."

Merlin looked around. "There are people who would consider a statement like that treasonous. There have been murders. You might want to be a bit more discreet."