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   "Are my ravens all right? What was killed this time?" Merlin didn't try to hide his alarm.

   "As near as we can tell, nothing and no one. We haven't been able to find out where the blood came from."

   Nimue asked, "You're certain it was blood, then, and not—I don't know—cider or something?"

   "It looked and smelled like blood. That's as much as we know."

   "And when did this happen, Brit?"

   "Two nights ago."

   Merlin said, "I wish I had been there. I might have no­ ticed something no one else did."

   Arthur hadn't said a word, just listened and frowned at it all. But now for the first time he showed signs of animation. "Merlin, the great detective."

   "This is not a thing to joke about, Arthur. Your life is be­ ing threatened, quite clearly. Someone who could sneak a bloodstained knife into your bed could just as easily use it on you."

   "I'm not worried, Merlin. Don't you be, either. If the vil­ lain wanted to hurt me, he would have done so by now."

   "He has, once. Have you forgotten?"

   Nimue leaned forward. "Has it occurred to anyone but me that these incidents—call them threats or whatever— must have been done by someone in the inner circle at Camelot? Someone with easy access to the King's Tower?" She glanced quite pointedly at Petronus. And the boy slumped down in his chair and looked away.

   Just then there was a knock at the door and a young woman came in. Seeing her, Petronus's eyes widened and he jumped to his feet. "Petronilla!"

   She smiled at everyone around the table. "Good after­ noon, everyone. For those of you who don't know me, I am, as my brother so abruptly announced, Petronilla, secre­ tary to Queen Guenevere."

   Petronus could not hide his astonishment. "Her secretary?"

   "You must all excuse my younger brother. He has al­ ways been slow to pick up on obvious points."

   "But—but—" the boy sputtered. "You're all right. I mean, what are you doing here?"

   "Later, brother." To the rest of them, she said, "The queen welcomes you to Corfe Castle and hopes that your stay here, in observance of her birthday, will be pleasant."

   Arthur sat up. "You may tell the queen that we are pleased that she seems to be content at our generosity in providing her this castle."

   "Might I suggest, with respect, Your Majesty, that you have one of your own people convey that message to her?"

   "Are you afraid of her, then?"

   "Let us say that I know her moods. And I am not a brave woman."

   At this Petronus laughed out loud. "No, not brave, only brazen."

   Merlin interrupted this. "You may tell Guenevere that we are all here, safe and sound. No more."

   Petronilla smiled. "I will certainly do so, sir. Is there anything else any of you require for the moment?"

   They looked at one another and said nothing. Merlin told her, "I think we are all quite fine, thank you."

   Petronilla made a slight bow, turned and left. Everyone in the room turned to Petronus.

   "I—I didn't know she was here, like this" he stammered. "Honestly."

   "We believe you." Merlin made his voice reassuring, glanced quickly at Nimue and said, "But we could not es­ cape the conviction that you are not exactly close. Would you prefer to return to Camelot?"

   "N-no, sir. I don't want to miss all the grand delegates and all the ceremonies. And the performers. Please let me stay."

   Softly and gravely Arthur asked, "What kind of woman is your sister? What should we know about her?"

   "Well, sir . . ."

   "Yes?"

   "She's . . . she's a bitch. From my earliest memories she has hated me. I've never understood why."

   "I see. We shall have to keep you away from her then."

   "But . . . but can I stay?"

   "Yes, I think so. But stay out of trouble. And stay out of Petronilla's way."

   "Yes, sir. You can count on it."

   Two weeks later the delegates began to arrive. Some came singly; some had traveled together. Most brought aides and attendants. The Armenian was a short, plump man who wore bright red silk trousers and wore them os­ tentatiously. His name was Phenobarbus. There were leg­ ates from Spain, Morocco, Libya, Sweden, Castile, Salesi, from every conceivable quarter of the Mediterranean world, even a place called Flausenthurm, a region Nimue could not find on any map. Merlin's friend Germanicus Genentius arrived with four young boys as his body servants. Even though most of these people were technically vassals of Justinian, they presented themselves as representative of sovereign, independent courts. Of Podarthes there was no sign as of yet.

   Merlin and Germanicus got reacquainted over a noon­ day meal. "I hope you traveled well."

   "The sea was most cooperative."

   Germanicus could not hide his interest in the castle's curious architectural plan. Merlin explained the building's history. "As far as I am aware, neither the Romans nor any­ one else ever repeated the experiment."

   "Our Roman forebears were not always as wise as we like to imagine."

   "They were geniuses, Germanicus. Their aqueducts still water a great many of our cities. Their roads cover Europe and are still in use."

   "And so are the tortures they devised. There's no need to lecture me, Merlin. I know all that. But have you ever seen the ruins of Nero's Golden House? The word
folly
hardly seems adequate."

   "Nero was mad."

   "Can you think of an emperor who wasn't?"

   Merlin laughed. "Be grateful Podarthes is not here yet."

   "I know him. I am."

   The delegates' self-importance was a source of constant

amusement to the Englishmen. The Roman pope sent a priest named Gildas, who announced to a startled court that he had been appointed Bishop of England. He was tall, parched, unnaturally thin; he looked as if he hadn't enjoyed anything since before puberty. "It is the will of Honorius," he proclaimed serenely, "that I serve here."

   "Do you mean to say you will be staying?" Merlin didn't try to hide his shock at this arrogant breach of proto­ col. "Remind me—when did we request a bishop of our very own? There are no Christians here for you to preside over."

   "That unfortunate fact will be corrected in good time. I intend to prepare you all for your meeting with the Al­ mighty in Paradise in the next life."

   "Excellent," Nimue told him. "Now may we move your luggage out of the hallway?"

   All in all, and given their pretensions, they were not a promising lot. Merlin complained about it to Germanicus, who was unmoved. "What did you expect? You've visited most of these courts and you must have at least secondhand knowledge of the rest. Petty nabobs and ambitious nobod­ ies, starting wars for their own personal gain or amusement, jockeying for position with Justinian . . . You know interna­ tional diplomacy well enough to have known it all and ex­ pected it."

   "I often accuse Arthur of naïveté. I suppose I am guilty of the same thing myself, in my old-fashioned way. And yet Arthur thinks me a cynic."

   "You are a cynic, Merlin. In the high old sense, in the sense the Greeks meant. 'The Cynic questions everything in order to learn what is true.'"

   "And what did Zeno's cynicism get him? He is quite as dead as the Epicureans and the Stoics."

   "So you think the point of intellectual inquiry is immor­ tality? A good cynic could tear that proposition to shreds."

   "Be quiet, Germanicus."

   "I'd like to get some exercise. Is it possible for me to work out with some of the knights?"

   "I'll arrange it."

Over the following days more and more delegates arrived. Before long the harbor at Corfe was crowded with their ships.

   Nimue served as official greeter when Merlin was occu­ pied with other business. She saw to their comfort, ex­ plained when the ceremonies would begin and what they would consist of. Then they went their own ways, conspir­ ing together, plotting against mutual enemies and friends, trying tirelessly to find ways to use the gathering to their advantage. Both Merlin and Nimue tired of them quickly; when they were alone together they expended a great deal of wit at their guests' expense.

   One bright, cool afternoon Germanicus took advantage of the chance to exercise with the knights and squires. Petronus and Greffys were among them. They were in a paved courtyard between two of the castle's arms. Some wrestled, some ran footraces, several of them practiced with their longbows. Lancelot, under heavy guard, was permitted to practice with the bowmen. Germanicus joined them.

   Nearby, Arthur, Merlin and Nimue strolled, chatting about the coming events, making minor corrections to the plans. Suddenly, as if from nowhere, an arrow whizzed past Arthur's head, missing him by barely a few inches, and drove itself into the stone castle wall.

   Immediately knights surrounded the king, swords, spears and other weapons at the ready. Others surrounded and seized Lancelot. Greffys wrested the bow from his hands. Once he was certain the king was unharmed, Merlin rushed to join the knights.

   "He did it, sir," Petronus told him, pointing to Lancelot. "He shot the arrow at the king. I saw it." Several of the knights backed him up.

   Merlin turned to Lancelot. "Is this true?"

   "It was an accident, Merlin," the French knight said. "My hand slipped. One of the others—this boy, in fact— jostled me as I was about to shoot."

   "Jostled you? The targets are thirty feet from where Ar­ thur was standing. That would take a lot of jostling."

   He fought against the men who were restraining him. "It's the truth. Ask any of them."

   Merlin was skeptical and said so.

   "For heaven's sake, Merlin, I'm already a prisoner. What would I gain by killing my jailer?"

   Merlin's face broke out in a sardonic smile. "Revenge?" To the knights he said, "Take him away. Not to the rooms where we have been keeping him. Find the deepest, darkest dungeon and lock him there."

   They led him away; he did not stop fighting them for a moment. Everyone else in the courtyard had watched what happened, riveted. The various delegates were already sepa­ rating into little groups to gossip about it.

   Germanicus crossed to Merlin. "He's telling the truth, you know. I saw it. One of the young men bumped into him and threw his aim off."

   "I do not doubt that that happened, Germanicus. But I do not doubt that Lancelot would have taken advantage of such an accident to provide cover. It hasn't been noised about, but Arthur is holding Guenevere and Lancelot pris­ oners here." He lowered his voice. "They've been conspir­ ing against him."

   "I know that. Everybody knows that. Still—"

   "You do?"

   "Of course." He put on a smug little grin. "You know how news travels. Especially bad news."

   Merlin put an arm around Germanicus and led him back inside. "We were so certain we were in control of the situa­ tion."

   "This is Europe, Merlin.
Modern
Europe. No one is ever in control of any situation. Not even Justinian. The world has become too complex and chaotic for that. Justinian steals, he plunders, he sends out Belisarius with an army large enough to take what he wants. But not even he has found a way to stop gossip and rumor and innuendo. They're the lifeblood of governments."

   Merlin sighed heavily. "I do not know much about the religion of the Christians, but I know about their monaster­ ies. Men go there and forget about the world, and they live lives of quiet and contemplation. They never even talk to anyone, not even each other. I would be so happy for a life like that."

   "You're an old fraud, Merlin. You—live in silence? Within five minutes you'd be bursting with news about some new lens you'd ground, or a new insight into Plato."

   "You are right." Merlin exhaled deeply again. "We haven't seen each other for years. How can you know me so well?"

   Germanicus shrugged and laughed. "You have become like the books you love—open and waiting to be read."

   "Don't be rude, Germanicus. Here—come up to my chambers and let's drink some wine and talk."

   "We'll have to talk softly. There are no doors to these rooms. What's wrong with you English?"

More and more delegates arrived. Of Podarthes there was still no news, neither where he was nor when he might ar­ rive. It was not even known how he was traveling.

   But nearly everyone else who was expected had arrived, and Corfe Castle was bursting with activity. The legates and their retinues filled the halls and chambers, prying gently, trying to find out everything about everyone. Word about the attempt on Arthur's life spread quickly; opinion was divided on whether it had really been an accident. People who knew Lancelot insisted it must have been deliberate; he was too skilled an athlete for it to have been anything else. Others were more inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt, choosing to accept Germanicus's account.

   The only ones in the castle who remained silent and avoided speculation were Guenevere, Leonilla and Leode­ grance.

   Then the next morning Guenevere, attended by Petronilla, burst into Arthur's chambers. A meeting was in progress. Arthur, with Merlin, Nimue, Simon and Bri­ tomart, was going over all the plans for the celebration. Suddenly the door-curtain flew wide open. Brit jumped to her feet at once and drew her sword. Guenevere stood at the threshold, tall and imperious, attended by Petronilla; be­ yond them in the corridor outside two of Arthur's soldiers waited, looking concerned. Arthur waved at them to let them know this was all right. Slowly the queen took a step into the room.