Untitled (31 page)

   Petronus laughed at this. "People compare me to Socra­ tes?"

   "No, of course not. But being too smart or too clever al­ ways makes one supicious in the common mind. I often think that is what did in Athenian democracy. When a leader displayed too much cunning or resourcefulness, the people invariably turned on him. It was the fools, the pan­ derers, the gulls who got embraced by the hoi polloi. But all of this is speculation. We can converse about it on our journey, if you like."

   "It fascinates me. But where are we going?"

   "As I said, to France." He paused, then added, "To Camelliard." He briefly explained the situation. "So, you see, a great deal depends on what we learn from this jew­ eler, this Beliveau. Do you know him, by chance."

   Petronus nodded. "Yes, Master Beliveau. He's a nice man. Almost fatherly. He's a couple thousand years old. I never really had the inclination to socialize with him, but as a mentor and advisor he was always very nice to me. He is one of very few people I miss from Camelliard."

   "I will need you to keep your eyes, ears and mind open while we are there. You must point out anyone you see be­ having out of the ordinary, anyone who might be putting us in danger."

   "You think there might be danger?" There was a tone of mild alarm in his voice. "I mean, I'm not much of a fighter. If anything happens—"

   "We will be traveling with a dozen knights, and we will all be disguised as Christian monks."

   "I'm too young to be a monk."

   "You will be our novice, then. A devout, prayerful young man. Do you know much about Byzantium and its relations with Leodegrance?"

   "I think it was Queen Leonilla who always managed our foreign affairs."

   "Or mismanaged. Leonilla, for all her craftiness, is the kind of ruler the hoi polloi have always loved. Venomous creature that she has always been, she keeps tripping over her own intrigues. Look at all her botched attempts to make inroads in England. Venomous in small, she has never been in control of large events. I can only imagine what a mess she would have made of them. But at any rate, we will be attempting to gather intelligence on Justinian's activities. You will be a great help there, too."

   "But—but suppose you can't learn what you want from Master Beliveau?"

   "We must be clever. We must be devious and learn how many of those knives he made, and who he made them for. It is perfectly all right for a king's
advisors
to be clever, after all."

Arthur was uncomfortable at the thought of Merlin penetrating enemy territory, especially in company with Petronus; but he agreed, quite reluctantly, that Merlin was the person best suited to question and evaluate the jeweler. He gave his permission for Merlin to leave as quickly as the party could be readied. "And I suppose you should take the boy. If nothing else, I'll sleep easier with him in France."

   "I am more and more inclined to believe he was an in­ nocent pawn, Arthur. I do not believe he meant harm."

   "We'll see, I suppose."

   So on the third day Merlin, Petronus and a dozen sol­ diers, all wearing the robes of Christian monks, took ship at Corfe bound for France. There had been some discussion about a larger party, but there was concern that it would only make them more conspicuous, and a smaller ship could leave Corfe harbor more easily. The port was unusu­ ally busy, as various delegations readied their ships to leave England. Fortunately none of them paid the "monks" any attention.

   The Channel was uncharacteristically calm when they crossed. Except for a stronger than usual south wind, the crossing was uneventful. The soldiers were commanded by Martin of Cokesbury. Merlin didn't know him well, so their conversation was limited to technical and logistical matters—the wind, the weather, what to expect when they got to France.

   "I've never been to France before," Martin told him.

   "No wonder Britomart chose you."

   "She said she thought we'd get along. She always tells me I'm a smartass."

   "The pot calling the kettle black."

   "I once heard the king complain that if sarcasm were power, England could rule the world."

   Petronus was excited by everything about the trip. "I can't tell you how grateful I am that you've trusted me to help on a mission this important."

   "I need someone who knows Camelliard." Merlin was offhand.

   "But . . . I'm still ashamed of the way I let them play me. When I think what might have happened to the king when I . . . when I . . . Thank you for trusting me, Merlin."

   "That is all in the past, Let us leave it there."

   "This is a chance to redeem myself, isn't it?" The boy looked anxious.

   "I suppose that would be a reasonable way to look at it."

   "I overheard some of the soldiers say that Britomart spe­ cially told them to keep a careful watch on me. If I do any­ thing they find suspicious they will . . ."

   "Just keep your wits about you, Petronus. Think before you say or do anything. Better still, say nothing. We're supposed to be an order of silent monks. Of all the squir­ relly customs . . . But I suppose we can use it to our ad­ vantage."

   "I'll try. Sometimes . . . sometimes I just get carried away."

   "Do not let that happen."

   They sailed south through the Pillars of Hercules, bound for Marseilles. As they passed Gibraltar a playful ape threw stones at the ship. Merlin commented that he hoped it was not a sign of things to come. One of the soldiers got his longbow and shot the offending ape; it plunged into the cold Mediterranean, struggled briefly, then disappeared under the waves.

   "There," Martin said. "Let us hope that
is
a sign of what's to come."

   "I would rather hope for an easy, nonviolent trip."

   "If there is to be violence, you should hope it will be ours, Merlin. Otherwise, why bring us?"

   The voyage took a day and a half. The port at Marseilles was crowded and busy and alive with activity. Merlin told Martin, "Instruct the men not to talk to anyone, not even to each other. They must leave that to either you or myself. I am the abbot; you are my lieutenant."

   Petronus couldn't take his eyes off the city. He told Mer­ lin, "I've never seen a place as large as this."

   "Never? Have you not had the chance to travel?"

   "When I came to England, it seemed the most thrilling place to me. But Corfe and Camelot aren't much bigger than Camelliard. And that's as much of the world as I've had the chance to see."

   "You will see more, I am quite certain. But for now it is time to get into your monk's habit."

   "I'm too young to be a monk."

   "Novice, then, as we said before. Do it. I'm told priests are fond of them. But you must wear it. We cannot take the chance that someone might recognize you. This is a
secret
mission, remember?"

   Martin's men rummaged through a pile of clerical robes and found ones that fit them reasonably well. There was a small robe that seemed tailor-made for Petronus. Merlin was the last to find his habit; the second one he examined fit him perfectly.

   "Excellent. Let us all put up our hoods, make certain our weapons are well-concealed, and go forward. And we must all remember at all times that we are pious Christian cler­ ics. Be humble and devout, with everyone, all the time. And keep your eyes and ears open for anyone who might be a Byzantine."

   Martin laughed. "We're soldiers, Merlin. Humility does not come naturally to us."

   "Nevertheless, our lives may depend on it, and we must all make the effort. We have a long way to go. It is time we enter Marseilles."

"Where is Merlin? I've been asking for him for two days now. One of the servants finally let slip that he's gone off on a trip to somewhere."

   Guenevere had sent for Nimue/Colin, who had been ne­ gotiating her way among all the delegates and all their de­ mands. So far, only two had left. The rest were waiting for the harbor to be cleared completely, and they were feeling edgy and impatient. Food and other supplies were running lower and lower. The last thing she needed to deal with was Guenevere, who still seemed to think herself in charge.

   "Merlin has gone off on a short holiday," she told the queen. "That is as much as I know."

   "Rot. I've seen the two of you together. You're like his second self."

   "I presume you mean that as a compliment? Thank you."

   "Don't patronize me, young man. How can Merlin have gone off in the middle of his investigation?"

   "I don't know a thing about his investigation, Your Maj­ esty." She leaned on the final words ironically. "He said he needed a break. That is as much as I know."

   "Break, break, break. If my mother had run Camelliard as loosely as Arthur runs England, it never would have amounted to a thing."

   "It seems to be coming to nothing anyway. Or haven't you heard?"

   Guenevere narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Hasn't your mother been to see you?"

   "Leonilla and I were not close even before she went off her head. Now . . . I want to know what Merlin has discov­ ered about the murders. And I want to see Lancelot."

   Nimue shrugged. "No one can think of a reason why Lancelot should have killed Podarthes. Not that it matters. Convicting him of one killing will be more than sufficient."

   "But—but the two must have been committed by the same person."

   "How can you know that, unless you had something to do with them?"

   "Do not try to be foxy with me, young man. Neither Lancelot nor I had a thing to do with either killing. If Mer­ lin was half the detective you all seem to think he is, he would know that by now."

   "Yet people keep dying, and Lancelot always seems to be on the scene or nearby. Perhaps Merlin is trying to find evi­ dence that you are involved. Have you thought about that?"

   Guenevere glared. "Leave me. Now."

   Nimue stood to go. "With pleasure, Your Majesty."

   Guenevere turned to her mirror. But Nimue decided not to let her off so easily. "One more thing."

   Without turning to look at her, Guenevere said, "Yes?"

   "There is a court jeweler at Camelliard. A certain Reynaud de Beliveau. What do you know about him?"

   "Beliveau? He is a fool. There were always rumors he had been one of mother's lovers. If that is true, he is the only one who managed to survive. Lucky for him she al­ ways liked pretty things. He must be the only lover she ever took who was older than herself." She turned suspicious; her eyes narrowed. "Why?"

   "Pretty things? Do you mean him or his jewelry?"

   "I told you to leave me. Leave me."

   "Yes, of course." Making a showy mock-bow, Nimue turned to go.

   "No, wait."

Nimue smiled to herself. "Yes?"

   "You said there has been intelligence from France. What is it?"

   "You mean your mother's . . . paramour has gotten word and you haven't? How interesting."

   "Tell me. Please, young man."

   "I have a name, you know. If you'll excuse me, I have duties to attend to."

   Guenevere steamed, but Nimue left her and placed a guard prominently in the doorway.

   Merlin had instructed her to keep a careful watch on Eu­ dathius, who she still thought of as "the Lithuanian." So far he had done nothing suspicious. But on one of her mad walkabouts Leonilla had been found in his quarters, sitting on his bed and talking incoherently to herself.

   And Andrea of Salesi had become increasingly strident, demanding special attention, demanding extra food for his retinue, demanding all sorts of things Nimue was hardpressed to provide. The last thing she needed was trouble from Guenevere, and she was grateful their audience had gone as well—and as briefly—as it had.

   The harbor at Marseilles was crowded with people and bursting with activity. It did not take long for Merlin to learn that the same storm that had crippled England had also ravaged the French ports on the Channel and the North Sea. As a result, virtually all marine traffic had to pass through Marseilles; there was no other choice. Merlin had decided to land there because access to Camelliard, to the north, would be easier; and it proved to have been a fortu­ nate choice. His soldiers tended to stay together, a short distance away from him. Petronus was his company.

   The harbor was crowded with ships of every description, from small sloops to galleys to, ominously, the most impos­ ing Byzantine war craft. There seemed to be ships from every part of the Mediterranean world.

   Merlin relished everything he saw. "When I was a younger man I traveled everywhere I could," he told Petronus. "Greece, Egypt, Byzantium, or Constantinople, as they call it now. I went everywhere I could. But I've never seen this city before."

   "It must have been wonderful, Merlin. I'm jealous." Petronus talked in a whisper to help maintain the fiction that only Merlin was allowed to speak.

   "I almost made the journey to India and Cathay. My wanderlust was that strong. Let us find an inn and eat some­ thing."

   With hand signals he told Martin and his men to follow him. The streets were full of travelers of every kind. Merlin was delighted to notice Egyptians among the crowd. "When I lived there, Egyptians tended not to travel. They thought their country the center of everything. The great god Khnum fashioned mankind on his potter's wheel there, so why go to any other place? I'm pleased to see their world has widened."

   "Or ours has."

   "Look—those men. They look like Byzantines. Let us listen."

   They were speaking Greek with a distinct Constantino­ politan accent. Merlin tried to pick up the sense of their conversation, but they interrupted it to suggest they take a meal in an inviting inn.