The Excalibur Murders (28 page)

Wearily, he stood. "Yes, Arthur, of course."

A young soldier rushed into the room. "King Arthur, sir."

"Walter." Arthur smiled an artificial smile. "Walter of Londinium. Do you two know each other?"

Merlin had seen the man about Camelot, but they had never actually met. Arthur introduced them. But Walter had something on his mind, something evidently urgent. "Sir, I just went to take King Pellenore his breakfast."

"Yes?"

"He's gone."

Arthur froze. Slowly, he said, "Repeat that."

"The cell is quite empty, sir."

"That isn't possible."

Suddenly Merlin burst out laughing. "Of course. He tried to tell me last night, but I was too tired or too slow to grasp it."

Arthur rounded on him. "You were with him last night?"

Merlin nodded, still laughing. "This castle used to be his, remember? He knows it better than you or I could, every hidden passage, every concealed corridor. He tried to tell me that, but I didn't hear him properly."

"What were you doing there?"

Merlin shrugged. "I went to see him. He's an old--no,
friend
would not quite be the word, but we have known each other a long time. That precious man. You all think him mad, and he's made fools of you."

Angry, seething, the king turned back to young Walter. "Find him. Search. There must be a way out of the dungeon. Discover it. But find me that man."

Walter saluted crisply and rushed off.

"It's no use, Arthur." Merlin's laughter was starting to abate. "Pellenore, crazy old Pellenore, has won. He's beaten you. Can't you see that? These old castles are riddled with hidden hallways and secret passages. Whatever madman planned this place must have included them in his plans. For Pellenore. He could live in them for months--maybe years--like a phantom. The mad old king has won."

"Go to your damned library, Merlin, and learn about the stone. Do something useful. And for God's sake, stop laughing at the rest of us all the time."

"I can't help it. Nothing is funnier than a human being with delusions of control."

"I am the King of England, damn it. I will not be the object of ridicule, not for you and certainly not for Pellenore. Go and do what I ordered you to do. Learn how to master the Stone of Bran."

Not hiding his amusement, Merlin stood to go. He realized with pleasure that his painkiller had started working already. "Yes, Arthur. Of course. All you have to do is order up miracles and you will get them."

"Get out of here, Merlin. I've never lost my temper with you before, but there is a first time for everything."

"Yes, Arthur. Of course."

"I want miracles."

"Yes, Arthur."

And so the hunt for Pellenore began. Teams of knights, squires and pages scoured Camelot, checking walls for hidden seams and secret hinges, to no avail. One team found a hidden door in the armory; other than that, the search turned up nothing.

Arthur himself oversaw the search of Pellenore's dungeoncell. "There must be a hidden passage. There must." But none was found for the longest time. Then by chance Arthur sat on the stone ledge, leaned back against the wall and felt the stone shift slightly. No one could find a latch or spring mechanism, but when main force was applied, the stone swung back, revealing a long, dark--and perfectly empty--corridor.

It was thirty feet long and ended in a blank stone wall. More force was applied, but these stones proved unyielding. Worse yet, there was no sign anyone had been there for years; the floor was littered with dirt and debris and cobwebs hung undisturbed. There were no footprints, no hand-prints, nothing.

Merlin couldn't resist observing that there might be other passages as well, that this might not be the one Pellenore had used in his escape. Arthur fumed.

But over the following days, Pellenore was seen, or rather evidence of his presence was seen. Food disappeared mysteriously from the kitchen. Blankets and clothing were taken from knights' rooms. A maid, tidying Accolon's chambers, shrieked in terror and ran when a man emerged from a wall there. He took a pillow and vanished again. No one knew where the mad king would appear next, and given his supposedly homicidal bent, everyone was on edge.

"I want him found." Arthur addressed a gathering of his officers and knights. "
I want him found
, do you all understand that? Midwinter Court will be happening soon. I'll be sending out heralds to summon everyone. We can't very well have Pellenore leaping out of walls, terrifying our visitors. Or worse yet, slaughtering them."

And so the hunt continued--and continued to be fruitless.

Merlin watched it all, deeply entertained. "Wanting to isolate Pellenore and incapacitate him, Arthur has done the reverse. "

Nimue was anxious, like everyone else in Camelot. "Has it occurred to you that he may be right? That Pellenore may actually have killed the twins? That whatever Mark is up to may be unconnected?"

"And I suppose you think the old man's dragons and griffins and whatnot are real?"

"No, of course not. But he thinks they're real. He could easily have killed the boys, for whatever mad reason, then convinced himself it was really his imaginary beasts who did it."

"Better still," Brit added, quite diverted by it all, "they may actually exist."

"Dragons that kill with swords? Of course." He snorted.

"I know you, Merlin." She scowled at him. "I know the way your mind works. You've never liked the military. You want Mark to be the murderer."

"I feel guilty about all of the wars I set Arthur on, yes. When I rigged the--when he pulled Excalibur from the stone, I expected him to become king peacefully. The idea was to use people's superstition against them, and for their own good. Instead there was nationwide warfare. Death and bloodshed on a vast scale. Do you really think I think framing Mark for the murders would atone for that? If you do know the way my mind works, you must know better than that."

"I know there's a murderer loose and we're all in danger. Wouldn't you say so, Colin?" Since their journey to Cornwall together, Brit and Nimue had found a measure of respect for one another; at least the active suspicion and hostility between them had abated.

"I don't know what to think," Nimue said. "I'm still new here. Merlin knows everyone so much better than I do. But--"

"But what?" Merlin was losing his patience.

"But--can we afford to take the chance?"

Suddenly, his face lit up with a broad smile. "Of course! That's it!"

It caught Brit off guard. "You know where he's hiding?"

"No. But I've suddenly realized how to flush the real killer out of secrecy."

"How?"

"Never you mind. I'll explain in good time. But it relates to what we've been talking about."

Brit frowned. "I can't stand you when you're smug and cryptic."

"I know, I know."

"Then stop it. Explain yourself."

"Not now. I have to find the king."

Merlin rushed through the castle as quickly as he could on his injured leg. Just as he reached the foot of Arthur's tower, he met Greffys. "Is he up there?"

"No. He's in the Great Hall with the heralds."

"Good. I only hope I can catch him in time."

Together they headed for the hall, Merlin limping behind the boy. People gaped as the two hurried along corridor after corridor. No one could remember seeing Merlin in such a hurry, wounded leg and all. His cane tapped the stones like a woodpecker.

They found Arthur sitting on a table in the Great Hall with a plate of honey cakes in front of him. On the other side of the hall two dozen of his heralds had gathered and were waiting for him to finish his treat and address them.

"Merlin, Greffys, have one of these. The cooks are getting better."

"So am I, Arthur." Merlin beamed. "I've found it."

"Found what? What the devil are you talking about?"

Merlin looked around and lowered his voice. "The stone--I've found the key to unleashing its power."

The king gaped at him. "You're joking."

"No."

"Did Morgan tell you?"

"No, Arthur, I found it myself. I'm not called the greatest scholar in England for nothing, you know."

"What is it, then? Tell me."

"Not yet. I still have to track down some details. But I'm glad I've caught you before you sent the heralds out."

"You want this announced?"

"To everyone. I want the whole country to know the power the Stone of Bran has given us."

"This doesn't sound like you, Merlin. What power?"

"The power," he said slowly and carefully, "of life and death."

Arthur fell silent for a moment. "It is that powerful?"

Merlin nodded gravely, in his best "sage" manner.

"You're right. All England must know of this. This will make us the greatest power in Europe."

"If not in the entire world." Merlin was pleased at the way this was going. If Arthur believed his tale, then it seemed likely that most everyone would. "Have the heralds announce it. Tell them I shall demonstrate at Midwinter Court. Everyone in England will see the truth then."

"Excellent work, Merlin."

"And it might be wise to have military escorts accompany the heralds, at least the ones who are summoning Morgan, Guenevere and Mark. Just to make certain they accept your gracious invitation."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "We know who did the murders, remember?"

"Yes, of course, Arthur. I simply want to make sure, that's all."

"You're up to something. But I'll do it."

"Oh, and something else occurred to me."

"Yes? What?"

"Have you given much thought to the entertainment for court?"

"No, I can't honestly say that I have. Why?"

"While the heralds are out, have them look for Samuel Gall's company of actors. They are the best in the country. Have them summoned here to perform for the assembled nobles."

Arthur bit into another cake. "I will. But it isn't like you to worry over performers. What's back of this?"

"Why, Arthur." He was all innocence. "I simply want your court to be memorable, that is all."

NINE

ILLUSIONS

It snowed for three days. The world was soft, white and frigid. On the second morning Merlin was in his tower reading, with Roc on his shoulder, when he heard a scratching at the window. The other two ravens, the ones that had been missing, were there, trying desperately to get inside.

He opened the shutter and let them in. They flew directly to the hearth, not too close, and warmed themselves. Then a moment later they flapped their wings and went to his shoulders and nuzzled him.

"I thought you were dead," he whispered. "But you've come back. Is that a sign?"

Roc, standing at the edge of the table, squawked shrilly as if to say, "The world does not send us signs."

Merlin named the other two birds Phoenix and Osiris, after two mythological figures who had conquered death. They began responding to their names almost at once.

By the third morning, Merlin was feeling restless. He headed to the stables and asked one of the grooms to prepare a horse cart for him.

Camelot was full of activity as the household staff decorated for Midwinter Court. Every available space was hung with holly and evergreen branches, to signify the triumph of life over death on this feast when the sun reached its lowest point and began to climb in the sky again. Hundreds-- thousands--of candles were set about; the castle would be ablaze with light as, at least in theory, the heavens were. Singers and musicians and handbell ringers rehearsed, loudly, songs celebrating the season. And great stores of provisions were being brought in from surrounding farms and villages so that Arthur's guests would want for nothing.

Arthur circulated through the castle, overseeing it all and beaming at the work, and even helping to arrange the holly now and then. When he encountered Merlin he greeted him heartily. "They're doing a wonderful job, aren't they? I love holidays. The lights, the colors . . . and we're having plays. One of the heralds found your friend Samuel Gall."

"Fine, Arthur." He adopted his patient teacher manner.

Arthur blinked and gaped at him. "Do you mean to tell me you don't like the Midwinter feasting?"

"I do not mean to tell you anything at all about it. But since you ask . . ."

"Merlin, how on earth can you not enjoy this? The lights, the colors, the music . . . I've loved Midwinter since I was a boy."

"You are still a boy, Arthur, in more ways than you realize. "

The king looked at him suspiciously. "Explain yourself, killjoy."

"I have never understood the concept of happiness by the calendar. 'Oh, goodness, it is such and such a date. That means I'm going to feel good and find life wonderful. Never mind that there are assassins on the loose.' "

"Go and have a drink, Merlin. You need it."

"As it happens, I'm heading to the kitchen, for some breakfast."

"Even that will help."

So Merlin left Arthur happily hanging holly and humming hymns to the newborn sun. In the refectory he encountered Petronus who, always anxious to make himself useful, offered to be his driver.

They finished eating and walked to the stable together. "But, sir, where are we going?"

"A great deal is going to happen here in the coming days, Petronus. I need to be alone, to think and to meditate, at least for a few hours. There is one place in the world where I have always been able to do that."

"And where is that, sir?"

"Stonehenge."

"But . . . but that is in Salisbury, sir."

"I know it. If the roads are passable we can get there in two hours or so. Let us hope. You may go to the local inn to keep warm while I spend contemplative time at the monument. "

"But won't you be cold?"

"At my age cold is a constant. I need this time alone."

Petronus fell silent for a few moments. Then as they walked to the stable he said, "It sounds as if you are going there to pray, sir."

"Don't be preposterous. Stonehenge is a gift of the ancients, who could not possibly have envisioned the circumstances that take me there. It is a place of harmony and proportion, of intellectual peace. In a snowfall it is even more so. I need to experience that just now, before the guests arrive for court. There may be danger here; I need to think and prepare myself mentally for what I have to do."